College Admission Essays: Sounding Strong and Mature

Projecting confidence

“I think I may be right for your school.” Can you imagine a statement that is more weak-kneed than this one? Probably not. If you’re right for the school, say so. If you’re not, don’t apply. No matter what, don’t sit on the fence. Make a statement and stand behind it! Here are some tentative statements written in answer to real application questions, along with an improved, confident version of each:

Question: Write about a book that affected you.

Tentative: I enjoyed Charles Dickens’ Great Expectations, which may be one of the best novels ever written.

Confident: When Pip receives notice that he has “great expectations,” I was hooked. Dickens’ novel is one of the best ever written, and certainly the best I’ve read.

Why version two is better: The writer describes the feelings more concretely and specifically and eliminates qualifiers. (For a more in-depth discussion of qualifiers, see Chapter 15.)

Question: Describe something you’ve done that you consider creative.

Tentative: I thought I might turn my campus into something that looked like a tented caterpillar, a project that was more or less inspired by the artist Christo and seemed creative to me.

Confident: My creativity was stretched to the limit when I erected a giant tent over the campus, a project inspired by the artist Christo.

Why version two is better: You must make a definitive judgment to answer that question, and you must also evaluate your own actions. Version one gives the impression that you are not up to either of those tasks.

Question: Translate a visual image into words and explain your rationale.

Tentative: Picasso’s painting Guernica makes me think about the horrors of war, though other viewers may have a different impression. Everyone sees art in a unique way, and no one can say that one way is more correct than another.

Confident: Picasso’s painting Guernica presents the horrors of war.

Why version two is better: You’re not answering a question about everyone’s views of art, and inserting a statement about others’ opinions takes the focus off your own ideas. And that’s where the focus of your essay should be!

Question: What characteristics of our school influenced your decision to apply?

Tentative: I think I might enjoy the all-night pre-game parties, though I’m not sure whether or not I’d actually attend, depending upon the amount of work I have to do.

Confident: All work and no play is a cliché, but it is based on a true assessment of human nature. When I visited Partydown University, I attended an all-night pre-game party. The students assured me that they had already completed their course work and were now ready to relax. Such a schedule appeals to me, though of course I must concentrate primarily on my studies.

Why version two is better: Okay, version two is not better in that you shouldn’t explain your partying plans, regardless of how responsible you intend to be. (I was just having some fun with the example.) Apart from the subject matter, version two at least expresses your views with assurance!

Sounding confident is not the same as over-simplifying a complicated situation or emotion. Suppose that you’re writing about an issue that matters to you (a real question). After examining all the facts, you see that several solutions are possible, but no solution is perfect. Or, perhaps you have mixed feelings about a person who has had an impact on your life (another real question). In your essay, acknowledge all the ins and outs of the topic you’re pondering. Be honest about your conflicting impulses. Chances are the admissions committee will appreciate the depth of your analysis and the degree to which you’ve tried to grapple with its complexity.

Most of us have learned that to brag about our accomplishments is to risk eating lunch alone for the duration of the school year, if not longer. But explaining what’s good about yourself and what you’ve accomplished is not bragging. In fact, you must do so in order to write a good admission essay. Check Chapter 2

Winning without whining

“The process of applying to college is so unfair.” Such a statement may be true (and in the middle of college applications, it certainly feels true). Nevertheless, it comes across as a whine. You’ll never win the prize — an acceptance letter — if you expend essay lines crying about how horrible you feel about writing an essay. The admissions counselors are well aware of the limitations of the college application process. They understand that they’re not getting a complete picture of each and every person who knocks on their college door. But until someone invents a way for the counselors to get to know a few thousand applicants intimately, the process is the only thing they’ve got. Besides, if you want to talk about fairness, consider the burden of reading thousands of pieces of paper, each carrying the hopes and dreams of an applicant. Plus, the salaries are low.

In your essay you may certainly talk about the hardships in your life, and if those hardships have had a significant impact on you, you probably should make them the topic of your essay. Just don’t whine when you do so. (Also, keep your own trials and tribulations in perspective. Check out the next section, “Keeping perspective,” for tips on how to do so.)

Steering away from a whine is easy. Here are a few “before-and-afters”:

Whine: I’ve got 12 pages of history to read, a term paper to research, and 15 math problems for homework. Plus I’ve got to write this essay.

Non-whine: Everyone told me about the challenges of senior year in high school, but I never understood the concept of time management until I sat down to read 12 pages of history, research a term paper, solve 15 math problems, and write this essay explaining who I am.

Why version two is better: The second sentence hints at a context — time management. The essay goes on to discuss how the writer packs all those tasks into one day. Thus the reader sees a point, not just a complaint.

Whine: I wanted to take AP English, but the teacher chooses only her favorites, and how was I supposed to know in ninth grade that the literary magazine was going to matter?

Non-whine: I considered AP English, but in the end I enrolled in senior elective courses highlighting Chaucer and Virginia Woolf, which have introduced me to rich and satisfying literary works.

Why version two is better: The second version is positive. The first sentence tells the college that you’re going to hit the ceiling every time a course you want is filled before you have time to register.

Whine: The issue that matters most to me is the environment. My generation will have to pay the price for the stupidity of the older generation, which treated our air and water as garbage dumps.

Non-whine: The issue that matters most to me is the environment. My generation will have to face the consequences of decades of mismanagement of the earth’s air and water resources.

Why version two is better: The people reading your essay are probably members of “the older generation,” and they won’t enjoy a blanket statement condemning them for stupidity. Version two doesn’t assign blame. The essay focuses on a description of the problem and possible courses of action to remedy the situation.

Keeping perspective

I once read a student paper (written by a ninth grader, not a college applicant) that referred to “that tragic day when they ran out of lobster before I had a chance to order dinner.” Schoolteachers’ salaries don’t run to daily (or even monthly) lobster fests. And even if our salaries were suddenly increased by a factor of ten (May the school board be listening!), I like to think that my colleagues and I would recognize that millions of people around the world go to bed hungry each night.

The point I’m making here is simple. As you check your rough draft, allow your global consciousness to dominate for a moment. If you’re presenting injustice, hardships, or tragedies, try to examine them in a larger context. Be conscious that whatever has gone wrong for you has probably hit some other member of the human race even harder. Or, as my mother used to say with depressing frequency, “Don’t make a mountain out of a molehill.”

Keep your life in perspective. An easy task, right? I don’t think so. You can only understand one reality completely — your own. And the things that have hurt or challenged you are real and important to you, regardless of whether or not some other people would love to have your troubles instead of their own. In your essay, you should explain what has been difficult in your life, and especially, how you dealt with your problems. Just don’t present the topic as if it were a matter of life and death — unless of course it is a matter of life and death.

To help you achieve the right tone, here are a few “before-and-after” examples:

Faulty perspective: No one has it harder than a student with a learning disability.

Better perspective: It has been a challenge to attend a competitive school and deal with my learning disability.

Why version two is better: A challenge, yes. “No one has it harder,” no. The first version ignores any other potential tragedies in the school, including students whose parents are ill, those who are dealing with financial difficulties, and so on. Also, the writer of version one completely ignores some of the other little bumps in life’s highway — war, famine, crime, to name a few.

Faulty perspective: My entire world crashed the day my father lost his job.

Better perspective: When my father lost his job, my family had to make a number of difficult adjustments.

Why version two is better: Okay, no one wants a ticket to the unemployment line, but “my entire world crashed” is far too strong. First of all, “entire” is an extreme. The sun still rose, the family was still there, and the polar ice caps didn’t melt and flood the family house, right? Second, your essay should concentrate on what you did in response to the challenge. Let the reader make the judgments. Your job is to supply the details.

Faulty perspective: If I don’t get into your university, I’ll kill myself.

Better perspective:

Why the line above is blank: You can’t renovate the first sentence into any acceptable statement. Suicide is a serious subject, and you shouldn’t make such a comment even as a joke. Also, after a string of student suicides, colleges are extremely nervous. They’re worried enough about the well being of their current students. Why should they admit any additional problems? Bottom line: If you mean it, seek professional help now. If you don’t mean it, don’t write it.

You’ve seen the ivy on the wall and you’re speechless with admiration. Fine. You’d like to convey that admiration to the admissions committee. Also fine. So you write:

I can’t believe that someone from Famousforever University is actually reading my essay. There’s no greater honor than to be considered for admission to the hallowed ground of your college.

Not fine. In fact, terrible. Admissions committees have a great deal of pride in their schools, and like all members of the human race, they don’t mind a well-deserved compliment. However, if they’re good at their jobs (and you should assume that they are), the admissions counselors also have a finely honed flattery detector. The preceding statement will set alarms jangling in about ten seconds, if not sooner.

Remember, you’re hoping for an acceptance letter, not the Golden Shovel Award. If you admire a particular aspect of an institution, you may say so, especially in answer to the “Why did you choose our school?” question. But don’t heap meaningless praise in hopes of impressing the reader. Some examples:

Meaningless praise: The long, star-studded history of your institution impresses me. So many incredible people went to Famousforever!

Legitimate compliment: When I look at the roster of alumni, I see many accomplished writers such as Felonia Handwringer, Jackson Flounder, and Philip Poeticall. The writing program that nurtured their talent has several aspects that attract me, including small seminars, peer-to-peer criticism, and intensive grammar review.

Why version two is better: Version two is much more specific. The fact that the essay writer knows about Handwringer, Flounder, and Poeticall indicates that he or she has some knowledge of the school. The details about the writing program show that the essayist values these characteristics and also indicates genuine interest in the school’s curriculum.

Meaningless praise: Words cannot express how totally honored I will feel if I am accepted to Famousforever University.

Legitimate compliment:

Why the preceding line is blank: You can’t fix that statement, so you should just delete it. Stay away from speculating about whether or not you’ll be admitted. Just comment on the aspects of the university that appeal to you and explain (with specifics) how your talents and goals mesh with the university’s programs.

Other sand traps in the application game

As you turn a rough draft into a final draft, don’t stumble into these pits:

• Don’t announce what you’re writing about. “In this essay I will show that I am the best possible applicant for Blockhead University.” Don’t talk about what you’re going to do; just do it.
• Don’t announce what you’ve written about. “In this essay I have shown that I am a complete blockhead.” Subtlety rules. Check out ”Getting Your Point Across,” earlier in this chapter, for tips on respecting your’ reader’s intelligence.
• Use good grammar. They want to know whether you can write, and they’re judging your level of education. Bad grammar tells them that you’ve got some catching up to do.
• Don’t lie or exaggerate. They’ll find out and then you’ll be sunk. Also, if you’re honest, you can face the world with a clear conscience.
• Don’t bore the reader. Be honest, yes, but present the truth about your life as vividly and dramatically as possible.
• Stay away from slang, profanity, and disrespect. You’re not having a burger with your pals after school; you’re talking to people who have power over you. Behave!
• Don’t boast, but do present your best qualities. Stay away from statements like “You won’t find a better student anywhere!” but do include comments about your accomplishments and admirable traits.
• Don’t rely on gimmicks. You can’t disguise a bad essay by writing it in gold ink on a picture of a pot of gold. You can ruin a good essay by writing it in gold ink on . . . well, you get the point.