College Admission Essays: Interprets a Story Essay Example

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Below is an example of a college admission essay where the writer interpret the story for the reader.

It feels strange when I recount some of my experiences working on Arthur Black’s senatorial election campaign, since, for as long as I can remember, I have been best friends with his son, Jon. Seeing things as both an insider and an outsider has always allowed me to know the candidate as more than just another politician, a name on some ballot. At the same time, though, it has left me with a distance letting, for example, my parents' dinner guests to criticize him without reservation in front of me. I no longer remember whether I had first encountered the candidate as a father, joking around with Jon and me as we passed through the living room, or if I had seen him first as a political figure, posing beside the mayor in the New York Times. So, as a result of the two contexts in which I knew him, I took on a dual role in working on his campaign.

When Jon would ask me whether I could give up a few hours to hand out literature down in Union Square, I would be doing my friend a favor to accept. If the campaign office managers sent me down to City Hall to record a press conference, I was working on a serious election. At first, despite my minimal knowledge of Arthur Black's political stance or experience, I figured that Jon's dad was a worthy cause. And so I had agreed to volunteer as an intern on the Friends of Black campaign and report each morning to a small closet-office, where my job consisted of mindlessly entering data into a computer or delivering packages. But, before I knew it, I became interested and more involved. I became an enthusiastic member of the Black team.

Once, outside a candidates' debate, Jon's older sister Jean, the volunteer coordinator, suggested that I be the one to publicize over the megaphone. I had the privilege of shouting to the whole block, “What color is that car? Is it Smith (his opponent)? No, my friends, it’s black!" I was Jon's loyal, funny friend, there to help out.

There were, however, instances that forced me to abandon my particular view of Arthur Black as Jon's father and view him purely as a political figure. I was put in the position of defending and advocating my candidate, pointing out his years of experience, his attention to the average consumer, and his plans to re-build public schooling. And, although I knew in both my heart and mind that I was supporting the correct candidate, it amused me to see the shift that had taken place in my perspective over the past few years, a shift from strictly emotional to more rational judgment, without which, I am certain, I would have devoted far less of my time and energy to the campaign.

As the race intensified, I began to hear very disparate accounts of the election, first from Jon and then from local news correspondents. To each, I had a different reaction: a tacit sympathy for my friend and a relatively objective view of a candidate's political strategies. The week of the election, wearing the Black paraphernalia, the t-shirt, the stickers, and such, I was simultaneously advocating a candidate and offering support to Jon. Election Day, watching the poll results waver, I wondered, as a citizen, who would be my next state senator, and asked myself how I would console my best friend if his father were to lose. Perhaps one of the biggest challenges of being a good friend would be picking him up when things were looking down, and at that point they were; we were faced with a question I couldn't yet answer: “What if he loses?"

I supposed, when Arthur Black lost the election, that all the volunteers were equally upset. Still, remarks that he was just another politician struck a chord that resonated against my image of the decent man and loving father I had known growing up, and I never understood how he could bear such slander. Often, discussing the issue with my father, who suggested, "That's politics," I realized that, for me, that wasn't politics. Politics meant where all our years of hard work would end up and how my friend would take the results. Politics concerned much more than just an agenda or a resume, but I accepted that voters would, and probably should, see things through different eyes; it was just a shame we didn't succeed in showing them how deserving and qualified a candidate he was, and, to them, Arthur Black became perhaps a name on some ballot after all. But whether it was, in the end, the campaign platform or the loyalty that I had to my friend that drove me to get involved, I'll always be proud of having worked on that campaign and having felt that human side of politics, to have supported a real person.