<p>This is the first draft of my Common App essay. If you're going to critique it, please be brutal. In particular, comment on its length, topic, and pretentiousness:</p>
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2. Consider the tone of the essay, and avoid pretentiousness. Showcase yourself without bragging. Don't be shy, don't hide behind formal and ornate prose...let the adcoms see <em>you</em> as a person. Write as if you were telling the story or having a conversation with a respected adult you don't know too well. If you think your essay sounds egotistical and pompous, chances are your intended audience does, too.
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<p>That's well and good, but this is my style of writing. It's not fake, and I don't think I misused any words. I write well and know I do, and not in the sense of "IM MY SCHOOL NEWSPAPER EDITER LOL." I don't want to seem more "real" by dumbing down my writing, but I know that I come across as an arrogant douche bag.</p>
<p>Help?</p>
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I had seen the face before. The particular perching of the eyebrows, the slight elevation of the corners of the mouth, and the certain gleam in his eye were unmistakable. It bespoke malice yet affability, brutality yet cunning, arrogance yet stupidity. I was fully cognizant of its implications, even before he silently mouthed to his friends watch this.
Im short, very much so. Nationally, Im in the 10th percentile for my age; when ethnicity is controlled for, I fall somewhere around the 5th percentile. (Im white, and in a school whose student body is largely white, the problem is exacerbated.) People, due partly to my height and partly to my physical immaturity, real or perceived, tend to underestimate my age; consequently, Im perceived as younger, more immature, and less intelligent than I actually am. Coupled with my natural lack of proclivity for athletics and the fact that Ive always been a bit of a nerd, my social prospects are less than optimal, to put it delicately. Such events as these are, unfortunately, not uncommon.
We were beginning the unit on basketball, and the day was given to passing drills. The class had been split into a number of groups, each of which consisted of approximately ten students. The groups were then halved, with each half sent to opposite sides of the fairly large room. The students in each group were to pass to their counterparts on the other side; as the groups were arrayed in separate lines, once the students had done so, they were to retreat to the end of their respective lines. To my displeasure, within my group were a few older boys with a reputation for toughness, one of whom was poised to throw me the ball. He had done so not a few minutes before and, upon witnessing firsthand my athletic prowess (the ball, at full speed, glanced off my hands and flew well behind me), simply couldnt wait to do so again, this time in view of his eager friends. The ball, to which he imparted his full force, was on course to soar perhaps half a foot over my head. I feebly lifted my arms and attempted to stop the ball (this while the object of the lesson was to catch it), thus preventing catastrophic embarrassment, but I worsened the situation; the balls force pushed me backwards as it continued to move. Enjoying a chuckle at my expense, the boy who threw the ball sauntered to the back of the line.
Perhaps Ive made too much of what should have otherwise been a trivial incident. Regardless, that smirk will always remain etched in my mind. More than anything, then, it is what set the character of the incident, a character which has colored many happenings before and many since. Its the frequent and vigorous interrogation of my age, the adamant refusal of some to acknowledge that I might not like following sports (*<em>gasp!</em>*), and the tacit dismissal of my response to a question in class as nerdy while an equally good response from an athletic, outspoken peer goes vocally praised by many that I can't stand. Even among the academically inclined, theres no one in my school with whom I can readily discuss topics that interest me, like politics or philology. Those who are interested in these things are usually athletically inclined as well, and are of a different social standing entirely. Additionally, the high school environment doesnt exactly provide the most conducive atmosphere to reasonable discussions of President George W. Bushs foreign policy*. Its a shame, and though I sometimes wonder if itd be better to simply fake interest in how many home runs were hit in the game last night, I ultimately come to the realization that I love what I like and who I am, and wouldnt change it for the world.</p>
<p>*Then again, I suppose thats what college is for!
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