Hey all - This is a very rough first draft of my personal statement. Since my intended major is Creative Writing I tried to showcase my writing as much as possible through this. I'm not sure if it came across as too much of a story rather than a statement, but I really would like to keep the essence of this.
Prompt
What is your intended major? Discuss how your interest in the subject developed and describe any experience you have had in the field - such as volunteer work, internships and employment, participation in student organizations and activities - and what you have gained from your involvement.
My body twitched with anticipation as I waited for the opposing pitcher to start her windup so I could begin my sprint towards third. I could taste the saltiness of my sweat as I licked my parched lips, digging the toe of my cleat into the dirt for more traction. As her arm came down like a sling-shot I was already well into my lead off, hurling my body full force towards the base in front of me. Habitually I folded my left leg beneath me and allowed myself to slide through the dirt, groping for the bag as I slid past it. A pang of pain immediately seized my right arm and it felt as if it had caught fire from the elbow down.
The day I broke my wrist I thought nothing of it; big deal another sports injury. What I hadn't prepared myself for was the phone call I received a few weeks after. "Long Beach is interested in you," my coach had told me, "they'd like to set up a date to come watch you play." At that moment my entire world came crashing down.
Not only had I broke my wrist, but during that same time I discovered that I had a torn rotator cuff. Any dream of getting a scholarship for softball was suddenly destroyed. I entered a state of panic; without softball I had nothing.
I sank into a deep depression over the next couple of years. I felt utterly lost, like my driving force had been taken away from me. The passage of time ran its course and I realized though one dream had been shattered I still had another to fulfill; to transfer to a University. Through this experience I channeled a raw form of energy I'd never noticed before, the power of writing.
When I was younger and people asked what I wanted to be when I got older I told them "a writer". I remember being greeted with blank stares and forced smiles accompanied with mumbled encouragements. As I grew older these encounters did not lessen, but instead grew worse with each passing year. I felt like unless I had a well-known published book I didn't earn the right to call myself a writer, so I stopped. The only person who ever truly believed in me was my mom. She advised me not to listen to what others thought, but to follow where my heart led me.
In my second year of college I got my second burst of wind for writing and took up a couple courses at the local community college. At first I was extremely intimidated; all the other writers seemed to be so much more experienced and worldly than me. I almost gave up but ended up sticking with them because I needed the credits. Hands down this was the best decision I've made in a long time.
After getting decent grades in my introductory writing classes I decided to take it further and enrolled in some specialty courses. After getting some constructive criticism (though it didn't seem so constructive at the time) I buckled down and began to come up with some really interesting stories and poems. I was amazed with how much I improved as a writer with those courses and it struck an old flint, sending sparks from my mind to my fingertips.
Though I am still figuring out who I am and what I want to be, I do know one thing for sure; I will write. It brought me back to life from a once dark place. It sparked the hope of a new beginning. It gave me the inspiration to discover who Jamie truly is, and for that I can never again turn my back on it.
Prompt
What is your intended major? Discuss how your interest in the subject developed and describe any experience you have had in the field - such as volunteer work, internships and employment, participation in student organizations and activities - and what you have gained from your involvement.
My body twitched with anticipation as I waited for the opposing pitcher to start her windup so I could begin my sprint towards third. I could taste the saltiness of my sweat as I licked my parched lips, digging the toe of my cleat into the dirt for more traction. As her arm came down like a sling-shot I was already well into my lead off, hurling my body full force towards the base in front of me. Habitually I folded my left leg beneath me and allowed myself to slide through the dirt, groping for the bag as I slid past it. A pang of pain immediately seized my right arm and it felt as if it had caught fire from the elbow down.
The day I broke my wrist I thought nothing of it; big deal another sports injury. What I hadn't prepared myself for was the phone call I received a few weeks after. "Long Beach is interested in you," my coach had told me, "they'd like to set up a date to come watch you play." At that moment my entire world came crashing down.
Not only had I broke my wrist, but during that same time I discovered that I had a torn rotator cuff. Any dream of getting a scholarship for softball was suddenly destroyed. I entered a state of panic; without softball I had nothing.
I sank into a deep depression over the next couple of years. I felt utterly lost, like my driving force had been taken away from me. The passage of time ran its course and I realized though one dream had been shattered I still had another to fulfill; to transfer to a University. Through this experience I channeled a raw form of energy I'd never noticed before, the power of writing.
When I was younger and people asked what I wanted to be when I got older I told them "a writer". I remember being greeted with blank stares and forced smiles accompanied with mumbled encouragements. As I grew older these encounters did not lessen, but instead grew worse with each passing year. I felt like unless I had a well-known published book I didn't earn the right to call myself a writer, so I stopped. The only person who ever truly believed in me was my mom. She advised me not to listen to what others thought, but to follow where my heart led me.
In my second year of college I got my second burst of wind for writing and took up a couple courses at the local community college. At first I was extremely intimidated; all the other writers seemed to be so much more experienced and worldly than me. I almost gave up but ended up sticking with them because I needed the credits. Hands down this was the best decision I've made in a long time.
After getting decent grades in my introductory writing classes I decided to take it further and enrolled in some specialty courses. After getting some constructive criticism (though it didn't seem so constructive at the time) I buckled down and began to come up with some really interesting stories and poems. I was amazed with how much I improved as a writer with those courses and it struck an old flint, sending sparks from my mind to my fingertips.
Though I am still figuring out who I am and what I want to be, I do know one thing for sure; I will write. It brought me back to life from a once dark place. It sparked the hope of a new beginning. It gave me the inspiration to discover who Jamie truly is, and for that I can never again turn my back on it.