Thought this might be Helpful

<p><strong><em>DON'T TRY TO IMPRESS</em></strong></p>

<p>it’s so common. and we’re all guilty of it. i was guilty of it. i’m STILL guilty of it.</p>

<p>we try to say the things we THINK will make the admissions folks go “wow, he’s not in it for the money! he cares about people! SIGN THAT KID UP IMMMEEEEEEEEJITLY.”</p>

<p>well, here’s why it doesn’t work.</p>

<p>it’s always. always. always transparent.</p>

<p>let me say it again for a little emphasis.</p>

<p>it’s always transparent.</p>

<p>k, what does that mean though. what does it mean to try to impress. how’s that different from ACTUALLY impressing?</p>

<p>well, i’ll toss in some examples in a second. but first, just wanna illustrate something by analogy.</p>

<p>we’ve all been up against that salesguy who pushes juuuust a little too hard. we can feel him chomping at the bit to MAKE THAT SALE. you’re looking in the mirror and can see the frickin shirt is wayyyy to big. you know it, everyone snickering around you knows it…. but this salesguy tells you “you look marvelous. it’s perfect.”</p>

<p>here’s what happens.</p>

<p><strong><em>you stop trusting everything he’s going to tell you after that.</em></strong></p>

<p>because his intention to make that sale… to TELL YOU WHAT YOU WANT TO HEAR is so transparent, it just discredited him irrevocably. now, the guy’s sunk. even if you WANT to trust him, you’re looking at him through jaundiced eyes.</p>

<p>one last example, i promise.</p>

<p>you’re sitting at a restaurant. you ask the waiter for some help. you can’t decide between the chickem parm and the tuna casserole.</p>

<p>the waiter looks around. makes sure the coast is clear, and then makes a FACE at the chicken, “to be perfectly frank, the parm is only okay. go with the tuna.”</p>

<p>now, whether or not that’s good for business, it’s impossible to say. but for our purposes, we care ONLY about the trustworthiness of the author. in this case, the waiter. if this waiter can pan a dish at his own restaurant, i don’t know about you, but i’m liable to go along with other opinions he has.</p>

<p>it goes against expectation. no one in a MILLION YEARS would ever expect for a waitor to say anything negative about the product he represents. but, and here’s the kicker: he just EARNED CREDIBILITY.</p>

<p>as the author of application essays, it is crucial to earn credibility. after all, you want them to keep reading. moreover, you want them to be COMPELLED BY what they’re reading.</p>

<p>you can’t do that if you seem like the mouthpiece for Johnny Goody-Good.</p>

<p>why? because it’s just too obvious. everyone wants to cure AIDS. everyone wants to solve world hunger. everyone REALLY cares about “making a difference.”</p>

<p>now, here’s the thing. this little rant is not meant to suggest that you CAN’T write about those things, have those attitudes, etc. but you can certainly write about them in such a way that EARNS YOU CREDIBILITY.
when you were saving the forest one summer, was there ever a time you doubted the impact of the whole thing?</p>

<p>was there ever a moment when you threw your hands up and said “ugh, volunteer work kinda sucks.”</p>

<p>was there ever a moment when you thought “this is all great? but i would honestly much rather be in a hot tub somewhere watching American Idol.”</p>

<p>because if you did… and told me about it… and then went on to show how something clicked over time, or somehow those feelings were quieted when _____ or while those feelings always lingered, you did learn something interesting…. all of a sudden, i’m going to TRUST whatever comes next because you were brave enough to admit something that goes against expectation.</p>

<p>now, it has to come from an honest place. if you’re manufacturing a “negative” to earn credibility, you’re kind of missing the big picture.</p>

<p>okay, so here’s an example as promised:</p>

<p>SAMPLE A</p>

<p>I like to volunteer because I’m able to help others who can’t help themselves. There’s something indescribable about the feeling of watching needy, underprivileged children react to positive experiences that I helped bring about. I would wake up at 4am every morning to prepare the kitchen and tables, and work as hard as I could to make sure that every single child got their full serving of food. I’d even sit and chat with some of them to hear their stories. It was eye-opening. It shed a new light on a world I had previously known nothing about. I can’t ever forget this one child, Wombosi, who barely spoke English. We would joke with each other through broken English and laugh together. Helping people who can’t help themselves is something that has always meant something to me. And this summer experience cemented it.</p>

<p>SAMPLE B</p>

<p>Waking up at 4am is something I hope never to do again. The only positive aspect of it was the moment around 4:17 when the dry-heaving stopped. But it had to be done to get the kitchen ready for the needy kids. Sure it was satisfying to watch these hungry, hungry kids slop food into their mouths. Felt like I was doing something good. But to be perfectly honest, it felt a little put on, too. Was I happy that these kids were being fed, or was there some part of me that also felt proud of being a good sumaritan? Maybe a little of both. And I suppose that’s okay. It wasn’t until I sat next to one of these kids did I actually realize how important it all was. See, we sat there in absolute, horrifically awkward silence. And for about 5 excruciating minutes, had absolutely nothing to say to each other. But it was in those 5 minutes, I really felt the disconnect. I felt the disparities between our worlds. I understood “opportunity.” How I had it, and this kid didn’t. It was in his eyes. And in my inability to say anything to him. Somehow that silence 5 minutes knocked me silly. Waking up at 4 is still a crime against my body, but now at least there’s a flicker of purpose. Something clicked.</p>

<p>okay, neither one is awful or a work of art, but the ability of student B to reveal something honest makes me inclined to think of his experience as being more… meaningful, somehow. on a scale of 1 to 10, i’d give sample A a 2 for sincerity and sample B maybe a 7 or 8.</p>

<p>sample B might still be a little cheesy, but that’s okay. you can always tinker with it, make some of the cheese a little more specific, dig out a little more detail, probe further into some of those insights, inner-deliberations, blah blah blah, and maybe you can crank it up to a 9 or 10. but at least you’re starting from a place of honesty.</p>

<p>Sample B is a tad cheesy, but I get ur point...by the way (cuz i'm such a freak btw :p) u misspelled Samaritan...</p>