Hey guys here is my personal essay from the Common App (haha I'm a little embarrassed sharing this). I'm thinking about fixing the end a little but not sure yet. Anyways, any opinions would be appreciated :) Thanks!
Prompt:Recount an incident or time when you experienced failure. How did it affect you, and what lessons did you learn?
PUBLIC SPEAKING
Public speaking was never my forte. For some reason, I could never get the right words out, and worst of all, I was always too tense during my speeches. That was why I found myself beginning to sweat when our newest class assignment was announced: a class debate. The situation was further exacerbated when I realized that only the victor of the debate was allowed to pass the assignment. On top of that, I was on the controversial side of against the death penalty and also against the popular opinion of the class. I was quaking in my shoes until I had heard my classmates, many times throughout the day, smirking to my opponent, "You're definitely going to win this," or "Andrew doesn't stand a chance." Soon my competitive nature took over and my fiery determination overcame over my jittery nervousness. This wasn't a school assignment anymore; this was a debate for me to triumph over inequitable odds.
On the day of the debate, I was no longer worried about fears of public speaking or the grade I was going to get; I had my mind set on winning. Soon, the debate commenced. After 40 minutes of intense debating, angry rebuttals, and bitter interrogation, our throats were sore and our audience had heard enough. Slowly, the votes were counted and the class fell silent in anticipation. Our teacher took a peek at the result and looked up astonished. For the first time in our class, it was a tie! Thus, the final vote rested on our student judge.
"I'm going to win," I thought. This was going to be the perfect movie-picture ending where the underdog overcomes all odds with a tight win that shocks everyone. With a grin on my face, I prepared myself for the victory. The student judge looked me right in the eye and muttered:
"Sorry, but I give my vote for the death penalty."
Although the grin I struggled to keep on my face felt strained, I tried to conserve the little dignity I had left by saying "Good job!" and "That was a fun debate!" However, deep down, I was utterly destroyed. Reality had slapped me hard across the face, waking me up from the delightful dream I was living in. This wasn't a movie, this was real life. Throughout the day and many days after, I cringed at the memory of my defeat. How could I have lost? This wasn't how it was supposed to go. It should have been my moment to shine. How could a class assignment have come to mean so much to me?
As the days passed, the fog of despair lifted, and I began thinking more clearly. I discovered that it wasn't the assignment that made me feel so devastated-I knew it was foolish to feel so disappointed by a mere class assignment-but instead, it was because I had failed myself. I had failed to prove my classmates wrong and, most of all, I failed to prove to myself that they were wrong. Desperately I searched for any hidden lessons behind this failure, but the more I searched, the more desperate I became. Suddenly, I realized that the lesson from this failure wasn't to continue searching for answers but to stop searching. Failing had made me endure the pain it brought: the shame, the disappointment, and the despair. But along with the pain, it also brought resilience and the strength to deal with future failures. As the pain lingers on, it will gradually evolve into regret and ultimately I have to learn to brush off the regret and accept the fact that I am not perfect and failure is just a part of life. This was just one of those failures that I would have to endure, shrug off, and move on.
Prompt:Recount an incident or time when you experienced failure. How did it affect you, and what lessons did you learn?
PUBLIC SPEAKING
Public speaking was never my forte. For some reason, I could never get the right words out, and worst of all, I was always too tense during my speeches. That was why I found myself beginning to sweat when our newest class assignment was announced: a class debate. The situation was further exacerbated when I realized that only the victor of the debate was allowed to pass the assignment. On top of that, I was on the controversial side of against the death penalty and also against the popular opinion of the class. I was quaking in my shoes until I had heard my classmates, many times throughout the day, smirking to my opponent, "You're definitely going to win this," or "Andrew doesn't stand a chance." Soon my competitive nature took over and my fiery determination overcame over my jittery nervousness. This wasn't a school assignment anymore; this was a debate for me to triumph over inequitable odds.
On the day of the debate, I was no longer worried about fears of public speaking or the grade I was going to get; I had my mind set on winning. Soon, the debate commenced. After 40 minutes of intense debating, angry rebuttals, and bitter interrogation, our throats were sore and our audience had heard enough. Slowly, the votes were counted and the class fell silent in anticipation. Our teacher took a peek at the result and looked up astonished. For the first time in our class, it was a tie! Thus, the final vote rested on our student judge.
"I'm going to win," I thought. This was going to be the perfect movie-picture ending where the underdog overcomes all odds with a tight win that shocks everyone. With a grin on my face, I prepared myself for the victory. The student judge looked me right in the eye and muttered:
"Sorry, but I give my vote for the death penalty."
Although the grin I struggled to keep on my face felt strained, I tried to conserve the little dignity I had left by saying "Good job!" and "That was a fun debate!" However, deep down, I was utterly destroyed. Reality had slapped me hard across the face, waking me up from the delightful dream I was living in. This wasn't a movie, this was real life. Throughout the day and many days after, I cringed at the memory of my defeat. How could I have lost? This wasn't how it was supposed to go. It should have been my moment to shine. How could a class assignment have come to mean so much to me?
As the days passed, the fog of despair lifted, and I began thinking more clearly. I discovered that it wasn't the assignment that made me feel so devastated-I knew it was foolish to feel so disappointed by a mere class assignment-but instead, it was because I had failed myself. I had failed to prove my classmates wrong and, most of all, I failed to prove to myself that they were wrong. Desperately I searched for any hidden lessons behind this failure, but the more I searched, the more desperate I became. Suddenly, I realized that the lesson from this failure wasn't to continue searching for answers but to stop searching. Failing had made me endure the pain it brought: the shame, the disappointment, and the despair. But along with the pain, it also brought resilience and the strength to deal with future failures. As the pain lingers on, it will gradually evolve into regret and ultimately I have to learn to brush off the regret and accept the fact that I am not perfect and failure is just a part of life. This was just one of those failures that I would have to endure, shrug off, and move on.
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