<p>Hello,</p>
<p>Just as a little context, I'm a high school senior, and I'm applying to the University of the Pacific Advantage Dental Program. University of the Pacific uses the Common App and I've written the 500 word essay for it. As it turns out, my essay is exactly 500 words (unplanned :D ). It would be nice if some people could help me proofread it, and/or offer some advice :) thanks :D</p>
<p>I am anxious.</p>
<p>As the field comes into view, the anxiety sets in. The unseen tension flexes, and wavers as we quickly pivot to begin to march onto the field. The glaring lights bestow each of us with an X shaped shadow, extending in all four directions. Our bodies remain rigid, facing forward, even as our eyes flit about, discretely adjusting our positions by the shadows splayed out around each individual. But we are not individuals. Individuals in the past, now, united by a common goal, a team stands in the center of the field. </p>
<p>But who are we?</p>
<p>Snap to the summer. </p>
<p>Lost deep in the woods at an alienated camp, every day at Cispus is the same. Announced, literally by a fanfare of trumpets, the day begins as usual, twisting and turning in bed, trying to find the perfect position to block out the light, to silence the world. Our prolonging of the inevitable is useless. All day long, we march. Trampling the grass in the morning, we begin by freezing our feet, soaking each delicate toe in the morning dew, all the way until nightfall. As the sun's light dwindles, to compensate for what Cispus lacks in cell phone reception, cleanliness, and warmth, a multitude of insects descend upon us, vultures, feasting on, not unsuspecting victims, but fully aware victims. The imminent bug bites, the constant scratching, and the burning itches all approach, yet we must immolate ourselves, not for our directors or drum majors, but as a sacrifice to each other. </p>
<p>To succeed, we hold ourselves to a higher standard, a commitment to each person around you, placing that obligation above our own individual concerns. The sun slips below the horizon, our signal to end, and as each cabin fills with its respective students, our knowledge of our show trumps our knowledge the day before. Conditioning our muscles to memorize each set, there is no doubt in any of us, no hesitation. We know our show, and we know it.</p>
<p>The quality of work we produce relies entirely on our effort and to achieve great things, we set the bar high. Only the best will triumph and the knowledge of our impending competitions pushes us to new heights, to the next level of diligence and perseverance. Pushing us to the level of our band. The quality of our band.</p>
<p>Snap back.</p>
<p>Crowded into a tiny yet perfect circle, the booming voice of the announcer, amplified a hundred times, echoes around the stadium, announcing our band's arrival. The noise of the stadium, calms to a hum and cuts to dead silence. </p>
<p>The drum major's arms raise, to signal us to prepare. </p>
<p>We have done this before. In fact, we have done this dozens of times. But now is the time, the single time that it counts, the moment that we have all been training for. Hundreds of feet move, perfectly in synch, toes skimming the ground, as we push off into our show. </p>
<p>The very last time.</p>