hey! I was wondering if anyone had any tips for my essay? I have already submitted my application, so no going back to edit this really, but if UCF doesn't take me then I could probably change this essay to fit other colleges prompts, but any tips on what I should cut since it is kind of long? What can make it stronger?
1. If there has been some obstacle or "bump in the road," in your academic or personal life, please explain the circumstances.
Every individual has a story that represents a fraction of who they are today. Although these stories may vary in length, they all hold the potential to demonstrate unique characteristics about possibly anyone. December 1, 1955, was an ordinary day changed by an unforgettable woman who would not give up her bus seat on the grounds that her skin color meant she had no need to rest her "useless" feet. Rosa Louise McCauley Parks was arrested and fined, but her small story did not end, it grew to become the spark for a life-changing movement. Immediately hearing that story, anyone would be able to tell from her actions that she not only exemplified moral courage, but a backbone harder than steel. Stories like these even find ways to skillfully illustrate how individuals deal with their own "bumps in the road," an experience no two people handle the same way. Rosa Parks, Alice Wells, Jane Adams, Barack Obama, and so many others took all their bumps and made history. Though I have found parts of my dynamic road to be free of pot holes and bumps, there are a few events that stand out as changing my whole foundation as a person, aiding me in becoming a highly motivated individual who will not stop dreaming until the legacy I strive for is finally created, free for the entire world to witness.
In July of 2007, a family of fresh faces brought their moving van full of useless items and clothes, moving right on into Grandma Coleman's house in Lawrenceville, Georgia. For me, moving at all from my beloved home of Florida was already enough to make me bitter. Obviously at first glance, one can write this off as the common story of a teenager forced to move from the place he loves, resenting all around him as if they had a part in making him move. And while I like to think of myself as unique and distinguished, I really did fit into that category all too well. I came into -my school- as a sophomore, ready to pounce on anyone who got in my way. My grades suffered in classes I knew I had the potential of doing better in, and I had absolutely no interest in participating in any club or community service related to -my school- or the state of Georgia. Through it all, though, I was able to realize who my real friends were in Florida because they were the ones constantly there for me, completely disregarding the fact that I was not down the street anymore, which helped make it feel like I never left. One of these individuals was a girl named Christina, who I could easily call my best friend. For the first few months of school, we talked on the phone (literally) every morning and she helped me feel like I was back home and nothing had changed. With her help, I gradually adapted to living in Georgia, eventually accepting the fact that the rest of my high school life would have to be in this new state.
The typical friend could have just said, "You live how many miles from me now? Why would I care about continuing a friendship when I will never see you?" Strangely enough, she had the exact opposite reaction, figuring out ways for our friendship to stay strong whether it be through adding a texting plan to her cell phone or reluctantly creating a MySpace account. She went above and beyond to let me know that she would always be there for me, something I desperately needed at that stage of my life. She inspired me because of how she went completely out of her way to help me remember I would never be forgotten, whether I was five or fifty thousand miles away. I knew this was the type of person I wanted to become, all because of the meaningful effect her type of personality had on my own life.
She dramatically affected my life again on August 18, 2008, when I received a call telling me that Christina had been in a car accident and did not survive. To actually have my heart sink as if it were in quicksand, my mouth panting with no words, my eyes gape with disbelief, my head pound with an unbearable headache and haunting memories I sought to forget, I felt like I had been made out of glass and that phone call was the hammer that shattered my whole body in only seconds. While it has been tremendously hard to live through, remembering her has become a huge influence and motivation to strive for the accomplishments I know I can obtain. I have recently joined a variety of clubs that are all about helping, whether it is cleaning up the school or raising cancer awareness, I finally am starting to form the new Mikael Coleman who is trying to leave handprints on people's hearts, just like Christina did for me. I never grew up as one of those kids with their dream college picked out by the time they were four; I also never grew up as one of those people who knew exactly what they wanted to be as soon as they turned thirteen, and I still have doubts about where my future is heading. However, one thing I am sure of is that I want to become a student at the University of Central Florida, and I know this university will provide me with the knowledge, ability, and foundation to succeed at whatever I attempt from this point forward.
1. If there has been some obstacle or "bump in the road," in your academic or personal life, please explain the circumstances.
Every individual has a story that represents a fraction of who they are today. Although these stories may vary in length, they all hold the potential to demonstrate unique characteristics about possibly anyone. December 1, 1955, was an ordinary day changed by an unforgettable woman who would not give up her bus seat on the grounds that her skin color meant she had no need to rest her "useless" feet. Rosa Louise McCauley Parks was arrested and fined, but her small story did not end, it grew to become the spark for a life-changing movement. Immediately hearing that story, anyone would be able to tell from her actions that she not only exemplified moral courage, but a backbone harder than steel. Stories like these even find ways to skillfully illustrate how individuals deal with their own "bumps in the road," an experience no two people handle the same way. Rosa Parks, Alice Wells, Jane Adams, Barack Obama, and so many others took all their bumps and made history. Though I have found parts of my dynamic road to be free of pot holes and bumps, there are a few events that stand out as changing my whole foundation as a person, aiding me in becoming a highly motivated individual who will not stop dreaming until the legacy I strive for is finally created, free for the entire world to witness.
In July of 2007, a family of fresh faces brought their moving van full of useless items and clothes, moving right on into Grandma Coleman's house in Lawrenceville, Georgia. For me, moving at all from my beloved home of Florida was already enough to make me bitter. Obviously at first glance, one can write this off as the common story of a teenager forced to move from the place he loves, resenting all around him as if they had a part in making him move. And while I like to think of myself as unique and distinguished, I really did fit into that category all too well. I came into -my school- as a sophomore, ready to pounce on anyone who got in my way. My grades suffered in classes I knew I had the potential of doing better in, and I had absolutely no interest in participating in any club or community service related to -my school- or the state of Georgia. Through it all, though, I was able to realize who my real friends were in Florida because they were the ones constantly there for me, completely disregarding the fact that I was not down the street anymore, which helped make it feel like I never left. One of these individuals was a girl named Christina, who I could easily call my best friend. For the first few months of school, we talked on the phone (literally) every morning and she helped me feel like I was back home and nothing had changed. With her help, I gradually adapted to living in Georgia, eventually accepting the fact that the rest of my high school life would have to be in this new state.
The typical friend could have just said, "You live how many miles from me now? Why would I care about continuing a friendship when I will never see you?" Strangely enough, she had the exact opposite reaction, figuring out ways for our friendship to stay strong whether it be through adding a texting plan to her cell phone or reluctantly creating a MySpace account. She went above and beyond to let me know that she would always be there for me, something I desperately needed at that stage of my life. She inspired me because of how she went completely out of her way to help me remember I would never be forgotten, whether I was five or fifty thousand miles away. I knew this was the type of person I wanted to become, all because of the meaningful effect her type of personality had on my own life.
She dramatically affected my life again on August 18, 2008, when I received a call telling me that Christina had been in a car accident and did not survive. To actually have my heart sink as if it were in quicksand, my mouth panting with no words, my eyes gape with disbelief, my head pound with an unbearable headache and haunting memories I sought to forget, I felt like I had been made out of glass and that phone call was the hammer that shattered my whole body in only seconds. While it has been tremendously hard to live through, remembering her has become a huge influence and motivation to strive for the accomplishments I know I can obtain. I have recently joined a variety of clubs that are all about helping, whether it is cleaning up the school or raising cancer awareness, I finally am starting to form the new Mikael Coleman who is trying to leave handprints on people's hearts, just like Christina did for me. I never grew up as one of those kids with their dream college picked out by the time they were four; I also never grew up as one of those people who knew exactly what they wanted to be as soon as they turned thirteen, and I still have doubts about where my future is heading. However, one thing I am sure of is that I want to become a student at the University of Central Florida, and I know this university will provide me with the knowledge, ability, and foundation to succeed at whatever I attempt from this point forward.