While I was doing homework at three am, I heard the door open and the sound of my father's hacking cough resounded through the house. He was finally home after sixteen hours of work. I was afraid that my father wouldn't live to see his grandchildren. His habits of excessive smoking and drinking began at the young age of seventeen. At the age of fifty, my father had lost most of his hair and all of his teeth. He had a pot belly the size of a pregnant woman's stomach, a hunched back of a mad cat, and the wrinkles of a ninety year old farmer. My father's appearance seemed too old for his age. Appearance reveals health. To state it bluntly, I thought that my father would die an early death if he didn't change his bad habits and improve his health.
I tried to preach good health to my father. I told him to get a check-up, but he wouldn't because we had no health insurance. I told him to quit smoking, but he continued to smoke a pack a day. I told him to drink less, but he couldn't swallow down a spoon of food without a beer. I told him to come home earlier, but he never came home before midnight. My father seemed like he would never change his habits.
One night at four am, my father came home from work and stepped into the shower. I heard the water splashing down on the floor tiles. At five am, the sound of water persisted.Something seemed suspicious, so I knocked on the bathroom door and shouted my father's name. There was no reply. I woke up my mother for help. She opened the door with a bobby pin and found my father lying on the floor of the shower. He was not moving. For a moment, I thought that I lost my father, but it turns out that I did not lose him. After a few minutes, my father woke up. He was not dead. He had only fainted, which is still quite a big deal. I told him to go to a doctor to find out the causes of his fainting. He objected. So I went online to research the causes of fainting. My father's stress, alcoholism, and smoking turned out to be causes of his fainting.
After my father's dangerous blackout, I couldn't let his bad habits continue. I couldn't risk losing my father, so I ended his habits with force. Whenever he bought cigarette packs, I would hide them away. I took all his beers bottles from the garage and poured out all the beer into the sink. When he tried to restock, I would continue to destroy. After midnight, I would lock our house's front door with a metal chain so that my father couldn't get in even with a key, forcing my father to come home before midnight. My actions really frustrated my father. He was a grumpy and depressed man during his transition period, but my actions were for his own good. My father's transition was successful. He quit smoking, drinking at home, and coming home late. I could see the changes in his appearance. Vibrant color returned to his former gray skin and his clothes no longer smelled like ashes. The whites of his eyes were no longer bloody red. Because of my father's change in habits, I became less paranoid of his early death.
What will happen when I leave to college? What if my father falls back into cigarettes and alcoholism? Will he wake up the next time that he faints? I want to protect my family's health. I want to know how to nurse them to health when they become old and weak. With that realization, I discovered that my dream is to be a nurse. Only with proper knowledge of health care can I take care of my family's health.
The Prompt is either :Prompt #1: Describe the world you come from - for example, your family, community or school - and tell us how your world has shaped your dreams and aspirations.
Prompt #2: Tell us about a personal quality, talent, accomplishment, contribution or experience that is important to you. What about this quality or accomplishment makes you proud and how does it relate to the person you are?
I don't feel very passionate about the above essay topic, but I feel that it has more positive meaning to it than the essay below.
"Mole! Bloody mole! We're not supposed to talk about the bloody mole, but there's a bloody mole winking me in the face! I'm gonna cut it off, chop it up, and make some guacamole!" When I heard this "joke" from the Austin Powers movie as a five year old, I touched the big mole on the center of my chin and felt a lump in my throat. I was to start kindergarten soon. Were people going to make fun of me because of my mole?
My fear came true. "Is that wart contagious? Get away from me!" "Are you Chairman Mao's great-granddaughter? You have the same mole as him but it's black." "Wipe your chin! There's something dirty on it." These were some comments that elementary schoolers made about my mole. I didn't know what to do or say, so I walked away without revealing any emotions. I avoided talking, for it drew attention to my face. When I was forced to talk, I avoided looking people in the eyes, for I feared that they would look back at my mole instead of my eyes. I covered my chin with my hand so they couldn't see my mole. I wanted people to judge me for who I was, not for a circle on my face, but I was so afraid to show myself because the first thing people saw of me was my face contaminated by my mole.
During the spring break of ninth grade, my dermatologist diagnosed my mole with early melanoma, a type of skin cancer, so he cut my mole off. I felt petrified to return to school. I felt like m mole defined me. What would people think of me when they saw that my mole was gone? Would they think that I got plastic surgery? Would they still recognize me? My solution was to apply a bandaid to my chin every single day. It felt like a safety blanket to me, but I knew I was not safe. I felt like people were thinking, "Why is she trying to cover up her mole? Everyone already knows it's there." Many people were curious and asked me "What happened to your chin?" Depending on the person, I would reply "I fell", "I got a pimple", "It's personal", or the truth. One morning, I ran out of bandaids and was forced to go to school without protection. People found out about my mole removal, but after a few months, I got over it.
Two years after the removal, I thought my mole was of the past. It was gone, but a girl who hadn't talked to me since eighth grade held it against me. When I met new people, the girl would tell them about my mole that I used to have and the rumor that I removed it for cosmetic reasons. She told them that they should not be my friends because I was horrible in the past. Then I learned that the girl wanted to get double eyelid surgery to enlarge her chinky eyes. How hypocritical! She insults my insecurity of my mole when she is insecure of her eyes.
Then I realized that people didn't make fun of me because I had a mole. They made fun of me because I was insecure about my mole and they could sense my vulnerability. Putting me down made them feel better about their own insecurities. Even when my mole was gone, they still wanted something bad about me to bring me down and to make themselves feel better.
I have decided not to be saddened by what people think of me anymore. No matter what I do or what I look like, haters will always find a way to make me feel insecure. I can't let the opinions of others control my emotions. I need to learn to love myself before others can love me.
I learned not to dwell over it because it was just a small part of life and not a big deal. I should worry about bigger problems in life. I spent so much time worrying about criticism from others but I realized that I don't need them to like me because all I need is to like myself.
Which one do you think is better? Should I pick a new topic? Can you help me revise the essay that you think is better? Thank you very much.
I tried to preach good health to my father. I told him to get a check-up, but he wouldn't because we had no health insurance. I told him to quit smoking, but he continued to smoke a pack a day. I told him to drink less, but he couldn't swallow down a spoon of food without a beer. I told him to come home earlier, but he never came home before midnight. My father seemed like he would never change his habits.
One night at four am, my father came home from work and stepped into the shower. I heard the water splashing down on the floor tiles. At five am, the sound of water persisted.Something seemed suspicious, so I knocked on the bathroom door and shouted my father's name. There was no reply. I woke up my mother for help. She opened the door with a bobby pin and found my father lying on the floor of the shower. He was not moving. For a moment, I thought that I lost my father, but it turns out that I did not lose him. After a few minutes, my father woke up. He was not dead. He had only fainted, which is still quite a big deal. I told him to go to a doctor to find out the causes of his fainting. He objected. So I went online to research the causes of fainting. My father's stress, alcoholism, and smoking turned out to be causes of his fainting.
After my father's dangerous blackout, I couldn't let his bad habits continue. I couldn't risk losing my father, so I ended his habits with force. Whenever he bought cigarette packs, I would hide them away. I took all his beers bottles from the garage and poured out all the beer into the sink. When he tried to restock, I would continue to destroy. After midnight, I would lock our house's front door with a metal chain so that my father couldn't get in even with a key, forcing my father to come home before midnight. My actions really frustrated my father. He was a grumpy and depressed man during his transition period, but my actions were for his own good. My father's transition was successful. He quit smoking, drinking at home, and coming home late. I could see the changes in his appearance. Vibrant color returned to his former gray skin and his clothes no longer smelled like ashes. The whites of his eyes were no longer bloody red. Because of my father's change in habits, I became less paranoid of his early death.
What will happen when I leave to college? What if my father falls back into cigarettes and alcoholism? Will he wake up the next time that he faints? I want to protect my family's health. I want to know how to nurse them to health when they become old and weak. With that realization, I discovered that my dream is to be a nurse. Only with proper knowledge of health care can I take care of my family's health.
The Prompt is either :Prompt #1: Describe the world you come from - for example, your family, community or school - and tell us how your world has shaped your dreams and aspirations.
Prompt #2: Tell us about a personal quality, talent, accomplishment, contribution or experience that is important to you. What about this quality or accomplishment makes you proud and how does it relate to the person you are?
I don't feel very passionate about the above essay topic, but I feel that it has more positive meaning to it than the essay below.
"Mole! Bloody mole! We're not supposed to talk about the bloody mole, but there's a bloody mole winking me in the face! I'm gonna cut it off, chop it up, and make some guacamole!" When I heard this "joke" from the Austin Powers movie as a five year old, I touched the big mole on the center of my chin and felt a lump in my throat. I was to start kindergarten soon. Were people going to make fun of me because of my mole?
My fear came true. "Is that wart contagious? Get away from me!" "Are you Chairman Mao's great-granddaughter? You have the same mole as him but it's black." "Wipe your chin! There's something dirty on it." These were some comments that elementary schoolers made about my mole. I didn't know what to do or say, so I walked away without revealing any emotions. I avoided talking, for it drew attention to my face. When I was forced to talk, I avoided looking people in the eyes, for I feared that they would look back at my mole instead of my eyes. I covered my chin with my hand so they couldn't see my mole. I wanted people to judge me for who I was, not for a circle on my face, but I was so afraid to show myself because the first thing people saw of me was my face contaminated by my mole.
During the spring break of ninth grade, my dermatologist diagnosed my mole with early melanoma, a type of skin cancer, so he cut my mole off. I felt petrified to return to school. I felt like m mole defined me. What would people think of me when they saw that my mole was gone? Would they think that I got plastic surgery? Would they still recognize me? My solution was to apply a bandaid to my chin every single day. It felt like a safety blanket to me, but I knew I was not safe. I felt like people were thinking, "Why is she trying to cover up her mole? Everyone already knows it's there." Many people were curious and asked me "What happened to your chin?" Depending on the person, I would reply "I fell", "I got a pimple", "It's personal", or the truth. One morning, I ran out of bandaids and was forced to go to school without protection. People found out about my mole removal, but after a few months, I got over it.
Two years after the removal, I thought my mole was of the past. It was gone, but a girl who hadn't talked to me since eighth grade held it against me. When I met new people, the girl would tell them about my mole that I used to have and the rumor that I removed it for cosmetic reasons. She told them that they should not be my friends because I was horrible in the past. Then I learned that the girl wanted to get double eyelid surgery to enlarge her chinky eyes. How hypocritical! She insults my insecurity of my mole when she is insecure of her eyes.
Then I realized that people didn't make fun of me because I had a mole. They made fun of me because I was insecure about my mole and they could sense my vulnerability. Putting me down made them feel better about their own insecurities. Even when my mole was gone, they still wanted something bad about me to bring me down and to make themselves feel better.
I have decided not to be saddened by what people think of me anymore. No matter what I do or what I look like, haters will always find a way to make me feel insecure. I can't let the opinions of others control my emotions. I need to learn to love myself before others can love me.
I learned not to dwell over it because it was just a small part of life and not a big deal. I should worry about bigger problems in life. I spent so much time worrying about criticism from others but I realized that I don't need them to like me because all I need is to like myself.
Which one do you think is better? Should I pick a new topic? Can you help me revise the essay that you think is better? Thank you very much.