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Essay Option 3: Susan Sontag, AB'51, wrote that "silence remains, inescapably, a form of speech." Write about an issue or a situation when you remained silent, and explain how silence may speak in ways that you did or did not intend. The Aesthetics of Silence, 1967.
It was horrible. That was the first thought I had when the train doors slid open. I noticed there was a homeless man sleeping in the corner with a McDonald cup by his feet. All the passengers were crowding away from him with their hands covering their nostrils, and even though I felt sorry for him, I joined the group. I felt bad for the man, but also useless. I couldn't help him in anyway. Then it came to me: I had a sandwich that I could give to him. It was made by Mama Chee, and anything homemade comes straight from the heart. I moved to extract the sandwich from my bag but stopped at the thought of physically giving it to him. What if the others judged me? It was a constant silent battle in my head. I spent so much time debating about whether I should step up or not that I reached my stop already, and I dragged myself out onto the platform with a sense of grief. When I took the bus home, I took out my sandwich. As I took bite by bite, the guilt was making itself comfortable and eating me up from the inside.
The next evening as the train flew by me, I saw the image of that faded maroon jacket that looked like Swiss cheese. The doors opened and my nose immediately familiarized itself from yesterday. Could it be that I just stumbled upon the same train cart and the smell was still here? I was not sure, but I was certain of one thing. The scene I walked in on yesterday was unchanged. The man was again in the same cart as I was. I sat down in awe. Was I given a second chance? Was this an example of what they called fate? This time, I made sure I did what I felt was right. People around me were sleeping, reading the New York Times, or simply covering their noses while furrowing their brows.
Right before my stop, I picked myself up and went over to the man. I cautiously tapped on his shoulder. As he pushed his wild hair aside, his eyes opened. There was a confused look in his charcoal eyes. I placed today's sandwich into his rough hands and our eyes stayed locked. It was a moment that was truly beautiful. The gaze he kept transitioned itself to one of gratefulness, one that really sent a sincere thank-you that landed straight in my heart. Everyone in the train was still quiet, but I felt the atmosphere around me change. As I turned to prepare for the doors to open, I noticed a difference. Smiles. Everyone there that wasn't knocked out from work had a smile that warmed me up. No words had to be said during those 5 minutes to make me happy. Silence spoke out to not just me, but to everyone in that train cart that day. Each individual saw that a ten second span can be engraved into a spot for special memories. The absence of speech brought out a powerful feeling at that moment. I felt amazing. It was better than winning first place in some tournament. It was much better. I guess silence really is golden at times.
548 words
Essay Option 3: Susan Sontag, AB'51, wrote that "silence remains, inescapably, a form of speech." Write about an issue or a situation when you remained silent, and explain how silence may speak in ways that you did or did not intend. The Aesthetics of Silence, 1967.
It was horrible. That was the first thought I had when the train doors slid open. I noticed there was a homeless man sleeping in the corner with a McDonald cup by his feet. All the passengers were crowding away from him with their hands covering their nostrils, and even though I felt sorry for him, I joined the group. I felt bad for the man, but also useless. I couldn't help him in anyway. Then it came to me: I had a sandwich that I could give to him. It was made by Mama Chee, and anything homemade comes straight from the heart. I moved to extract the sandwich from my bag but stopped at the thought of physically giving it to him. What if the others judged me? It was a constant silent battle in my head. I spent so much time debating about whether I should step up or not that I reached my stop already, and I dragged myself out onto the platform with a sense of grief. When I took the bus home, I took out my sandwich. As I took bite by bite, the guilt was making itself comfortable and eating me up from the inside.
The next evening as the train flew by me, I saw the image of that faded maroon jacket that looked like Swiss cheese. The doors opened and my nose immediately familiarized itself from yesterday. Could it be that I just stumbled upon the same train cart and the smell was still here? I was not sure, but I was certain of one thing. The scene I walked in on yesterday was unchanged. The man was again in the same cart as I was. I sat down in awe. Was I given a second chance? Was this an example of what they called fate? This time, I made sure I did what I felt was right. People around me were sleeping, reading the New York Times, or simply covering their noses while furrowing their brows.
Right before my stop, I picked myself up and went over to the man. I cautiously tapped on his shoulder. As he pushed his wild hair aside, his eyes opened. There was a confused look in his charcoal eyes. I placed today's sandwich into his rough hands and our eyes stayed locked. It was a moment that was truly beautiful. The gaze he kept transitioned itself to one of gratefulness, one that really sent a sincere thank-you that landed straight in my heart. Everyone in the train was still quiet, but I felt the atmosphere around me change. As I turned to prepare for the doors to open, I noticed a difference. Smiles. Everyone there that wasn't knocked out from work had a smile that warmed me up. No words had to be said during those 5 minutes to make me happy. Silence spoke out to not just me, but to everyone in that train cart that day. Each individual saw that a ten second span can be engraved into a spot for special memories. The absence of speech brought out a powerful feeling at that moment. I felt amazing. It was better than winning first place in some tournament. It was much better. I guess silence really is golden at times.
548 words