Hi! This is my Common App essay. I don't think it's very good, but I like the topic. I wanted to make it more personal so I added the second paragraph, but it's too abrupt, I know. It would be great if you guys could read it and give feedback on whether it gives enough insight into me as a person, if the flow is good, and if it's a good Common App essay in general. Thanks soo much! btw, please be harsh!
Looking up above the spruce trees, past the 20-story high buildings, and at the last traces of clouds, I see not just the moon and stars, but also the universe that they make up. Compared to the 100,000 light year-wide Milky Way galaxies and the possibly infinitely large universe, I feel smaller than an infinitesimal speck, more powerless than a caged bird, and never more significant than any other human, knowing that no matter what I accomplished, my short life will soon only become a forgotten, distant memory. This was how I used to view humans' places in the world- as minute, unimportant, and restrained. I used to feel like we were just another combination of all the innumerable atoms on Earth; we were nothing different from ants or bacteria, but just had a different distribution of atoms. Now, however, I have realized that our existence was no coincidence at all. We were created to make advances and leave our mark in this world.
When I was young, just the thought of the size of our world terrified me to tears. My earlier experiences partly influenced this thinking. From the ages of two to five, I got extremely high fevers and went to the hospital every few weeks for shots. There was no diagnosis and I was scared that all the people I loved would suddenly be gone; that I would be gone. Fear drove my body to work harder to defend myself, and by the time I started kindergarten I was a braver girl with a stronger immune system. I was afraid that I would be forgotten, but at the end I realized that I had the power to push myself to get better.
I feel like our unique attributes set us apart. Our ability to love and hate, amuse and dishearten, captivate and repel are our special characteristics. We have taken resources provided by nature and innovated them into other-worldly creations. Our philosophies, technologies, sciences, and arts have made us advanced and have given us complex ideologies. Even though we are miniscule, our size is not a direct correlation to our power. Our abilities to feel and think are the real indications of strength.
The realization of our powers has propelled me to play my part in the advancement of our society. My constant pondering about our role in this world has led me to pursue in a variety of activities that involve anything from performing at retirement homes to researching in medical labs.
In addition, I have started to believe that my abilities do not just lie in the realm of playing piano or doing western blot, but that I can also influence my community by just initiating conversations with an unfamiliar acquaintance or spending more time with my family and friends. Reaching out to others in even the smallest way can create a monumental difference in somebody's day, and the power of one person can lead to the strength of our world.
Word count: 496
You guys don't have to read this part if you don't want to. Today I was trying to write a new one and I decided to write about how I cried about everything when I was young, and how I have evolved into a stronger person. This is the beginning of it. Thanks:)
"Honey, please stop crying. What is it this time?" my mother exasperated. It was only the first week of daycare and my mom, who works nearby, had already been phoned three times to come to the school and tame my uncontrollable cries. I tried to respond, but my throat was clenching too tightly around my larynx. Finally, between my rhythmic alternations of sobs and hic-ups, I managed to gasp out, "but mom, Sophie kicked me and it still hurts!" And so the crying continues.
That was me when I was young. I was not spoiled or perpetually sad; I just had a strange obsession with this act of secretomotor phenomenon. I cried every time someone pulled my hair, called me a crybaby; every time I recited the multiplication table wrong, or swallowed water in the swimming pool. Not only did I never stand up for myself, I was also weak. As I grew older and entered elementary school, my emotions began to stabilize.
I remember I was at one of my school swim team's daily practices in the outdoor pool that we rented. I remember panting as the nine-year-old me kicked furiously in an attempt to finish the last 50 meters of my twenty laps of backstroke. Listening to the pellets of rain echoing as they splashed mercilessly on the water as well as my face, I remember willing to give anything to be like those people that were snuggled up on their couches, watching the weather reporter talk about the storm invading the city outside. My skin was numb and my body was on the brink of collapse, but my brain had not been affected by the harsh weather. The whole time it reminded me that even though practice was hard, my persistence would help me until the end.
Looking up above the spruce trees, past the 20-story high buildings, and at the last traces of clouds, I see not just the moon and stars, but also the universe that they make up. Compared to the 100,000 light year-wide Milky Way galaxies and the possibly infinitely large universe, I feel smaller than an infinitesimal speck, more powerless than a caged bird, and never more significant than any other human, knowing that no matter what I accomplished, my short life will soon only become a forgotten, distant memory. This was how I used to view humans' places in the world- as minute, unimportant, and restrained. I used to feel like we were just another combination of all the innumerable atoms on Earth; we were nothing different from ants or bacteria, but just had a different distribution of atoms. Now, however, I have realized that our existence was no coincidence at all. We were created to make advances and leave our mark in this world.
When I was young, just the thought of the size of our world terrified me to tears. My earlier experiences partly influenced this thinking. From the ages of two to five, I got extremely high fevers and went to the hospital every few weeks for shots. There was no diagnosis and I was scared that all the people I loved would suddenly be gone; that I would be gone. Fear drove my body to work harder to defend myself, and by the time I started kindergarten I was a braver girl with a stronger immune system. I was afraid that I would be forgotten, but at the end I realized that I had the power to push myself to get better.
I feel like our unique attributes set us apart. Our ability to love and hate, amuse and dishearten, captivate and repel are our special characteristics. We have taken resources provided by nature and innovated them into other-worldly creations. Our philosophies, technologies, sciences, and arts have made us advanced and have given us complex ideologies. Even though we are miniscule, our size is not a direct correlation to our power. Our abilities to feel and think are the real indications of strength.
The realization of our powers has propelled me to play my part in the advancement of our society. My constant pondering about our role in this world has led me to pursue in a variety of activities that involve anything from performing at retirement homes to researching in medical labs.
In addition, I have started to believe that my abilities do not just lie in the realm of playing piano or doing western blot, but that I can also influence my community by just initiating conversations with an unfamiliar acquaintance or spending more time with my family and friends. Reaching out to others in even the smallest way can create a monumental difference in somebody's day, and the power of one person can lead to the strength of our world.
Word count: 496
You guys don't have to read this part if you don't want to. Today I was trying to write a new one and I decided to write about how I cried about everything when I was young, and how I have evolved into a stronger person. This is the beginning of it. Thanks:)
"Honey, please stop crying. What is it this time?" my mother exasperated. It was only the first week of daycare and my mom, who works nearby, had already been phoned three times to come to the school and tame my uncontrollable cries. I tried to respond, but my throat was clenching too tightly around my larynx. Finally, between my rhythmic alternations of sobs and hic-ups, I managed to gasp out, "but mom, Sophie kicked me and it still hurts!" And so the crying continues.
That was me when I was young. I was not spoiled or perpetually sad; I just had a strange obsession with this act of secretomotor phenomenon. I cried every time someone pulled my hair, called me a crybaby; every time I recited the multiplication table wrong, or swallowed water in the swimming pool. Not only did I never stand up for myself, I was also weak. As I grew older and entered elementary school, my emotions began to stabilize.
I remember I was at one of my school swim team's daily practices in the outdoor pool that we rented. I remember panting as the nine-year-old me kicked furiously in an attempt to finish the last 50 meters of my twenty laps of backstroke. Listening to the pellets of rain echoing as they splashed mercilessly on the water as well as my face, I remember willing to give anything to be like those people that were snuggled up on their couches, watching the weather reporter talk about the storm invading the city outside. My skin was numb and my body was on the brink of collapse, but my brain had not been affected by the harsh weather. The whole time it reminded me that even though practice was hard, my persistence would help me until the end.