Hi, this is my common app essay. I tried to talk about the importance of my parents on my life but I am not sure if it works. I am also considering deleting one or two of the body paragraphs but I am not sure if that would help or hurt. Any and all comments would be much appreciated. Thanks! :)
Some students have a background or story that is so central to their identity that they believe their application would be incomplete without it. If this sounds like you then please share your story.
Everyone has a story: a series of events, moments, or memories that capture the essence of their existence. My story is about optimism, about encouragement, and most importantly, about my parents.
On the piano in my living room there is a picture of my parents. My father is standing tall and proud. My mother is glowing, an aura of youth and beauty encircling her. With their arms entwined they are holding a small bundle of blankets. Poking out of the sides you see two little arms stretching up towards the sky, five little fingers reaching for the stars. Without even looking at their faces, you know my parents are smiling because as they gaze at the small bundle that rests in their arms, they see the future. What they portray in this single snapshot of life is an incomparable certainty in tomorrow; an undying trust in the fact that tonight the sun will set behind the mountains, and tomorrow it will rise up again even brighter.
Two years after the picture was taken, the small child was just learning to walk and was adding many new vocabulary words to the family's language. While she was babbling at every minute detail, our nation was looking to the sky as the space modules Zarya and Unity were launched into our atmosphere. These first components of the International Space Station were a sign that our country had taken the next giant leap for mankind. But while the country had its eyes glued to the sky, my mother was gazing at her child thinking, "one day, you will conquer space".
Three years later, that small bundle had grown into a bright and energetic kindergartener who, on September 11, 2001, was playing the drums to an unspoken rhythm when a siren went off. The news reporters and radio hosts were frantic; a feeling of insecurity and fear was spreading quickly around the country. But there was no fear that day in the eyes of my father who looked down at his child in a time of wide spread panic and, with the same optimistic expression that was seen on his face five years prior said, "one day you will bring peace to the world".
Four years later, in 2005, the child had grown into a bright young student, fascinated by the world that surrounded her. Five days away from the beginning of fourth grade she was sharpening her pencils and organizing her notebooks when disaster hit the Louisiana coast. Over the next week, the winds and waters of Hurricane Katrina took the lives 1,833 people. But as the number gradually grew, my mother did not sit with her eyes glued to the weather channel, instead she sat facing her child and said, "one day you will keep us all safe".
Twelve years after the picture was taken, the child was in the eighth grade. She had just finished a long night of homework and was dotting the "i"s and crossing the "t"s when, on November 4, 2008, the United States of America elected its first African American president. No matter your political affiliation, this day represented a turning point in American history; no longer was race a barrier. But as equality celebrated its newest victory, my father turned to his child and said, "one day you will be the first female president of the United States of America".
It has now been seventeen years since the photograph on my piano was taken, and very little has changed. Though my fingers have grown quite dramatically in size, they are still reaching for the stars and with every success and failure, every triumph and tragedy, my parents are right there with me, encouraging and optimistic no matter what is happening around us. These are my parents; they are my story.
Some students have a background or story that is so central to their identity that they believe their application would be incomplete without it. If this sounds like you then please share your story.
Everyone has a story: a series of events, moments, or memories that capture the essence of their existence. My story is about optimism, about encouragement, and most importantly, about my parents.
On the piano in my living room there is a picture of my parents. My father is standing tall and proud. My mother is glowing, an aura of youth and beauty encircling her. With their arms entwined they are holding a small bundle of blankets. Poking out of the sides you see two little arms stretching up towards the sky, five little fingers reaching for the stars. Without even looking at their faces, you know my parents are smiling because as they gaze at the small bundle that rests in their arms, they see the future. What they portray in this single snapshot of life is an incomparable certainty in tomorrow; an undying trust in the fact that tonight the sun will set behind the mountains, and tomorrow it will rise up again even brighter.
Two years after the picture was taken, the small child was just learning to walk and was adding many new vocabulary words to the family's language. While she was babbling at every minute detail, our nation was looking to the sky as the space modules Zarya and Unity were launched into our atmosphere. These first components of the International Space Station were a sign that our country had taken the next giant leap for mankind. But while the country had its eyes glued to the sky, my mother was gazing at her child thinking, "one day, you will conquer space".
Three years later, that small bundle had grown into a bright and energetic kindergartener who, on September 11, 2001, was playing the drums to an unspoken rhythm when a siren went off. The news reporters and radio hosts were frantic; a feeling of insecurity and fear was spreading quickly around the country. But there was no fear that day in the eyes of my father who looked down at his child in a time of wide spread panic and, with the same optimistic expression that was seen on his face five years prior said, "one day you will bring peace to the world".
Four years later, in 2005, the child had grown into a bright young student, fascinated by the world that surrounded her. Five days away from the beginning of fourth grade she was sharpening her pencils and organizing her notebooks when disaster hit the Louisiana coast. Over the next week, the winds and waters of Hurricane Katrina took the lives 1,833 people. But as the number gradually grew, my mother did not sit with her eyes glued to the weather channel, instead she sat facing her child and said, "one day you will keep us all safe".
Twelve years after the picture was taken, the child was in the eighth grade. She had just finished a long night of homework and was dotting the "i"s and crossing the "t"s when, on November 4, 2008, the United States of America elected its first African American president. No matter your political affiliation, this day represented a turning point in American history; no longer was race a barrier. But as equality celebrated its newest victory, my father turned to his child and said, "one day you will be the first female president of the United States of America".
It has now been seventeen years since the photograph on my piano was taken, and very little has changed. Though my fingers have grown quite dramatically in size, they are still reaching for the stars and with every success and failure, every triumph and tragedy, my parents are right there with me, encouraging and optimistic no matter what is happening around us. These are my parents; they are my story.
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