Johns Hopkins Supplemental Essay
Hello, I was wondering whether an essay about taking care of my aunt's children as she battled a disease would count as an impressive extracurricular for Johns Hopkins University whose question is the following:
Successful students at Johns Hopkins make the biggest impact by collaborating with others, including peers, mentors, and professors. Talk about a time, in or outside the classroom, when you worked with others and what you learned from the experience.
This is my answer to the prompt and I have already submitted it to several universities so there's really no plagiarising. Please respond with edits as soon as possible.
I had almost reached my saturation point. While picking up my cousin's rattles, I tripped on the juice spilled from her sippy cup. My sister, in the other corner of the room, had let a Lego block suck the soul out of her foot. Although taking care of my cousin was crucial, as my aunt battled post-partum depression, it was no painless feat.
From delving into piles of soiled diapers to interpreting the monotonous cries of a toddler, nothing in this world could have prepared my sister and me for all the trials and tribulations being a child's non-biological mother brought to the table.
It almost felt like the tenderness of our mid-teen years was in shambles. A responsibility far beyond our bodies' capacities had been thrust upon us and much to our dismay, there was no excuse along the lines of "my dog ate my homework" to rid us of it.
My cousin's incessant crying, accompanied with the bags under my eyes, had led my sister and me to the conclusion that this task demanded scrupulous planning and thus even the smallest of our shortcomings could easily lead to major repercussions.
And so we drafted what we called The Ploy. Uncannily similar to a serial killer's hit list, except instead of people's names, one would spot the number of bottles to be filled with formula milk every hour, as well as who would cradle the child and when.
At first, days went by like months, but soon our lives started to revolve not around the intensity of the little one's cries or the sleep deprivation they had caused, but the sparkle in her eyes every single time one of us shook her milk-filled bottle in front of her and the toothless smile we received whenever we sang her a lullaby.
It's baffling, isn't it? How a soul so unfledged can make two relatively mature ones realize the power of organization is still a mystery to me, but it's, regardless, something I am perpetually indebted to my cousin for.
Despite not being able to utter a single word, the little one had managed to put our lives in order, using simple human expression.
And while initially my sister and I had assumed that we would have to teach her how to live life, we now look back and realize that it was, in effect, the exact opposite.