Can you guys read my essay?

Chance Me / Match Me!
1

<p>Hey you guys. I wrote my first draft of one of my personal struggles. Tear it apart! Not literally of course. It sucks, so I need all the help I can receive.</p>

<p>I’ve been walking home for the past eleven years, currently working on my twelfth. I’ve hiked over steep hills which resemble mountains, waded through deep puddles, and climbed up millions of steps. My brother also has for a short while, but now he always seems to find a ride home. I still prefer walking. </p>

<p>I live in a modest, middle-class neighborhood, rife with white picket fences, fresh, mowed lawns with that lingering mint aroma, and paved concrete and brick paths, unmarred by time and weather: the perfect scenery to engage any mind. I observe the families—the wife, husband, children—all getting along well with glowing smiles and vibrant laughter. But then I realize that my thoughts are merely ideals. My family is nothing like them. </p>

<p>We live in a redbrick house, adorned with goldenrod yellow and aqua-blue wildflowers that blend with the brick path. But they are pretenses, a beautiful blanket only used to conceal the wretched abomination underneath. For the past fourteen years in this country, I have never experienced a full night’s worth of sleep without remorse or despondence. Every morning, I wake up, listening to piercing yells and heart-wrenching sobs. My parents are shouting at each other over mundane matters, ranging from food to bookshelves. And in rare instances, one wreaks even more havoc by shattering an expensive dish or cup. The slamming of the door signals the end, and my brother and I come out. It is time to dress, eat, and go on with our lives.</p>

<p>My family has been suffering, but not anymore due to the wonderful prospect of divorce. Recently, my mother’s financial security has plummeted, leaving my brother and me alone at home, yearning for that motherly affection. She has become a stranger, a silent apparition quietly leaving early in the morning and trudging in late at night. That leaves us with my Father, the semi-portly Asian engineer with a penchant for “social drinking” and golf. His work comprises most of his time, so he rarely visits. </p>

<p>My little brother and I have been struggling to keep each other’s hopes alive. We’ve delved into books, trying to live vicariously through others and absorbing some of their charms—Oliver Twist’s unwavering compassion, Francie Nolan’s relentless persistence. And we’ve tried ignoring our problems directly, foolishly bottling up our sorrow and anger and focusing on academics, sports, and extra curricular activities. But those actions also were fruitless, producing a fleeting hedonistic pleasure followed by a terrible emotional meltdown.</p>

<p>But now, things have changed. I am seventeen, working on my twelfth year, currently walking, but running mostly now. My neighbors happily greet me and I wave back accordingly, but instead of envy, satisfaction flowers. Maybe it’s the cool mesmerizing autumn season with the gentle gliding of maple leaves and the fleeting breeze, maybe not. But I know my life has been an adventure with obstacles only a countless few have experienced. It’s not the perfect family, but only my own.</p>

2

<p>I am a senior this year and know virtually nothing about college essays, but my AP English teacher recently told us what not to write about. The list included: death, drugs, depression, DIVORCE, etc. I would suggest finding a different, more original angle of personal struggle.</p>

3

<p>Not to be mean, but...</p>

<p>About half (or more) marriages end up in divorce, so that doesn't necessarily show how you're unique.</p>

<p>Now, if the essay specifically asked for a personal struggle, comment more on how you coped with it, how you learned from it (examples!), how it has influenced your personality...</p>

<p>happy applying!</p>

4

<p>I like how you looped back to the walking sentence again in the last paragraph. Some basic things I noticed were excessive use of "I". I'm not sure if that was on purpose for some effect or anything. Also, your essay seems to just be TELLING about your hardships. (I.E. "My family has been suffering", "my mother's financial security has plummeted"). It would be to your advantage to somehow show these things subtly instead of just stating outright how horrible your life is. Yeah, it would take more words to do so, but you chould just keep some of the main points and emphasize/elaborate them more.</p>

5

<p>Yeah, I've noticed that too. I do use "I" too many times, and it's really getting redundant. Thanks guys. I'll try to elaborate more upon the outcome rather than the struggle itself. :)</p>

6

<p>No offense, I know that this was probably I mean of course it was a big personal event in your life (that obviously affected you in a big personal way) but this essay sort of turns me off in terms of what makes you unique, and what makes you stand out. I've read in various places that "sad stories" are fine, but sob stories you want to avoid. I don't mean to insult you at all or anything really but this really feels more melodramatic than anything else.</p>

<p>I'm sure there's a way you can make this work without stuff like "struggling to keep each other's hope alive" "I have never experienced a full night’s worth of sleep without remorse or despondence." I mean this may all be true, but as machiavelli said--you're just telling us not showing us. If you can successfully show it than you can change the essay from generally sounding like more of a vent-fest (or nothing terribly unique. I mean, my parents went through the same thing but I don't necessarily define it as something that shaped me--something like that.) into something genuine ^.^</p>

<p>ANYHOO. Best of luck and I hope I didn't offend anyone. :D</p>

7

<p>I did think that it was quite good, but was left puzzled as to what caused you to change.
You just tell us about the difficult circumstances, and at like the very last paragraph, you just state that now things have changed.</p>

<p>I think when you are writing about some difficulty you faced in your life, the focus should lie on how you handled it rather than the actual difficulty.
So try to have a bit more of a feel-good positive and optimistic second half.</p>

8

<p>yeh i agree, even if a topic such as divorce is not unique, it is rarely written well in. If you can right more about how it's affected you and how you and your brother have learnt to cope, that would be good. I like the walking part, it sounds familiar...</p>

9

<p>The essay is very well-written, style-wise, but like the other commenters, I am confused about why you changed. I read that you're supposed to keep your description of an event to about a paragraph and then use the essay to describe how the event affected you. </p>

<p>would love to see the final version...and hear your comments.</p>

10

<p>After reading your essay, I felt like killing myself because it was so depressing.</p>

11

<p>Even if your topic was unique, you would still be sending a "feel bad for me so please admit me message"--not a good idea. And as for style, I would watch misplaced modifiers; there are quite a few grammatical errors--read it over carefully.</p>

12

<p>Where exactly? I can't find the misplaced modifiers. Oh. Thanks you guys. I've written a second draft that explains more about how I've changed. :D</p>

13

<p>hey</p>

<p>cool. I've had some time (thirty minutes haha) to work on this. Can you give me any more suggestions? Thanks so much! I've tried to elminate a lot of unnecessary melancholy, which I think made the essay a bit droll and melodramatic. I've elaborated more upon the transition, but do you think it's concrete enough? </p>

<p>I’ve been walking home for the past eleven years, currently working on my twelfth. I’ve hiked over steep hills which resemble mountains, waded through deep puddles, and climbed up millions of steps, an incredible feat, all within in my first grade year. My brother also has for a short while, but now he always seems to find a ride home. I still prefer walking. </p>

<p>My neighborhood is the embodiment of traditional American Suburbia, rife with white picket fences, fresh, mowed lawns with that lingering mint aroma, and paved concrete and brick paths, unmarred by time and weather. Families sit out on the patio—the wife, husband, children—slowly passing time, getting along well with glowing smiles and vibrant laughter. But then I realize that my thoughts are merely ideals. My family is nothing like them. </p>

<p>Sadly, I have never experienced the pleasures of a full night’s worth of sleep. Every morning, I wake up listening to piercing yells and heart wrenching sobs. My parents are shouting at each other over mundane matters, ranging from food to bookshelves. And in rare instances, one wreaks even more havoc by shattering an expensive dish or cup. The slamming of the door signals the end, and my brother and I come out. It is time to dress, eat, and go on with our lives.</p>

<p>Recently, my mother’s financial security has plummeted, leaving my brother and me alone at home, yearning for that motherly affection. She has become a stranger, a silent apparition quietly leaving early in the morning and trudging in late at night. That leaves us with my Father, the semi-portly engineer with a penchant for “social drinking” and golf. His work comprises most of his time, so he rarely visits. </p>

<p>But even within this divided, chaotic place called home, my younger brother and I have created a close, cherished relationship, a means of comfort and happiness during hard and desperate times. And now, according to our neighbors, we are the modern versions of Bonne and Clyde, albeit a bit more pacifistic and loving. Together we have delved into books at the book store, trying to live vicariously through others by absorbing some of their charms—Oliver Twist’s unwavering compassion, Francie Nolan’s relentless persistence, and Peekay’s unwavering drive for perfection. And on occasion, we have walked to the park for recreational football, or on spontaneous, sweltering summer days, to the local juice bar for smoothies. </p>

<p>And now I am seventeen, working on my twelfth year, currently walking, but running mostly. My neighbors happily greet me and I wave back accordingly, but instead of envy, satisfaction flowers. I know my life has been an adventure with obstacles only a countless few have experienced, but a traumatizing stigma? No. More like something on the line of didactic, craftily molded to teach subtlety so hard to come by in this heartless place called home. Everything has its flaws, yet within the seemingly marred surface lies something unique—fragile but beautiful. Someday the portent will become optimism and the melancholy, mirth. But someday? No, I’ll make that happen today.</p>

14

<p>you talk about walking/running "home" in the beginning. what exactly is this "home" that you speak of? is it (what i think you mean) this nonliteral place that you feel comfortable in?</p>

<p>its gotten better but i still think that you need to talk more about how the experience affects you. cut the description down, and more explanation of YOU. i like the last two paragraphs a lot better than the middle - there should be more of that</p>

15

<p>I didn't learn much about you or why you should go to _____ school. You need to set yourself apart -- nearly half of American kids have divorced parents, so talking about divorce probably isn't going to do that. Also, you probably don't want to use a depressing tone/voice in your essay, as more often than not, you come across as whiny. Adcoms like to read happy essays, so unless the one defining moment of your life is hpoelessly depressing, I'd pick a happier one.</p>