College essays that made a difference - Princeton Review 2010
Clayton Kennedy
The applicants
Clayton was valedictorian of his class and honored as one of the top 100 graduating high school seniors in Missouri. He was active in his school’s theater department and excelled at soccer and cross country. Vice president of the National Honor Society, he devoted time to art, Spanish, and public service organizations at his school. Volunteer work included: Big Brothers/Big Sisters, Women’s Survival House, and Easter Seals, for whom he worked as a camp counselor for intellectually, physically, and emotionally disabled youth and adults. Clayton traveled abroad several times and taught English for three months in Parral, Mexico.
Stats
SAT: 1460 (690 Critical Reading, 770 Math)
ACT: 33
High School GPA: 11.1 (out of 11.0) weighted
High School: Warrensburg High School, Warrensburg, MO
Hometown: Warrensburg, MO
Gender: Male
Race: Caucasian
Applied To
Bard College
Colorado College
Goucher College
Hampshire College
Lewis and Clark College
New College of Florida
Pitzer College
Truman State University
University of Puget Sound
Essay 1
Clayton sent the following essay to every school to which he applied.
Describe a significant experience in your life.
The license plate of New Hampshire reads Live Free or Die. Undoubtedly, this refers to the revolutionary cry for liberation from repressive outside forces. A more befitting interpretation for me, though, would imply a deliverance from the abusively restrictive nature of myself.
The downward spiral was fast and fierce. It was the spring of my eighth grade year and with each passing day I drew increasingly within. My peers were waging a battle for sameness, and I stood confused, an all-too-conscientious objector. My intrinsic, subconscious need to fit in actively conflicted with my disgust of the “ideal” person I seemingly had to become to do that. Analytically, I was far advanced; emotionally, I was the runt. My world felt out of my control and I groped for something that was not. Jarring months passed, my parents dragged me to the doctor, and the words were finally spoken aloud: anorexia nervosa.
In the midst of one of the most rapid growth periods of my life, I was shutting my body down. My parents were terrified but were determined to help me trounce the disorder. In a plea for magic, my mother and I trekked down to rural, central Mexico where, for three months, we lived with a family and taught daily classes of English to local children. The hope was that the sudden and succulent change of scenery would snap me out of it. The scheme faltered and I returned not as a healthy, actualized young man, but a wasted, frantically weak sack of bones whose emotional fragility embarrassed even the little bit of himself that remained. My body had surrendered a third of its original (and never excessive) weight, and my psyche had relinquished even more. Without fear of over-exaggeration, my state was horrific—I could not even cognize what it would be like to be better. Doctors insisted I be hospitalized (“or else he might not wake up some morning …”), and there I stayed for over a month.
With parachutes open and uplifting drafts finally blowing through, the real journey began. The hospital gave me a calm reflection period, and in time, rational thought became less fleeting. Upon my release, I returned to my freshman year of high school, just over four months tardy. To say that the following period was plagued with failures is an understatement. I do not know if I will ever engage in a more difficult or perverted battle in my life. To actively fight oneself is insidious business. At all times I betrayed part of myself, causing emotional endurance to be nearly impossible to regain. I had to quadruple any willpower I had used in starving myself to now replenish my “masterpiece.”
From where did this willpower come? Having seen the grueling depths, the splendor of the crisp air above began to sink in. This world is full of harmony and I realized that I could be a player of it. I began to develop my worldly, aesthetic values. I found peace in everything from the sparkle of one’s eye to the hue in a stretching sunset to the innocence in a kitten’s face. In essence, these became my religion. I now live for that beauty. I strive to create that beauty.
I am that beauty.
I am Maya Angelou, spinning tragedy into harmony. I am Roberto Benigni, leaping across seat tops. I am the invincible boy who dreams to go to Mars. I am the wise and weathered grandma who cherishes her loved ones. I frolic in the gales, like the resplendent autumn leaves. I soften sharp edges, like the buoyant, babbling creek. My compassion is thrilling, my creativity transcending. I love unabashedly, sing uncontrollably. I am far too enthralled by the euphony of the world to experience anything less than adulation and a fierce desire to explore and help better it. Yes, I will be shot down, time and time again, but wounds heal stronger than before. Darkness is an essential step in true enlightenment.
In eighth and ninth grade, I was bloodied. I was bloodied by my peers and I was bloodied by myself. From the grotesque depths of helplessness, though, I have soared to individually unprecedented heights. I have opened myself up and found that I have the ability to be the very person I dream of being. Yes, I am still a teenage boy who goofs up all the time, but I am where I want to be in my mental, emotional, and (not to be forgotten) physical development.
More than any other achievement in my life, I am proud of this one. The chemical deficiency that led to this devastating, psychological disease was absolutely out of my control; the warm power that was used to beat it was not. What underlying, overriding lesson has enlightened me, then? Simplistically speaking, I suppose the expression Live Free or Die fits. A more personally appropriate way of stating it, though, is this:
If I live free, I fly.
Essay 2
Clayton used the following essay in his application to Bard, revising it for other schools.
Why are you applying to Bard?
I am a hungry, greedy little boy. I want it all, and have no shame in saying this. Though the bran of my life helped me build a powerful system, my body is aching for something new, something tastier, something richer, something better.
I am tired of airy snacks and refreshments; I long for more sustaining meals that will challenge and excite me.
I am tired of waiters and cooks who care little about their customers or commodity; I dream about gourmets who will not only personalize my feast, but will actually take me back into the kitchen and enlighten me the on process of making it.
I am tired of obnoxious atmospheres with rude or apathetic people; I desire a more intimate setting where my peers have both the aspiration and ability to recognize the fresh herbs we so giddily savor.
I am tired of monotonous, conventional meals; I drool for liberally seasoned cuisines to match myself.
I am tired of being the only one who actively enjoys and contemplates his food; I am ready for a place that demands it of everybody.
I want these things. I crave these things. In many ways, I need these things if I am to continue to develop in the ways true to my rhythm. Should I undergo a mundane, conventional education, I will make the most of it. I will feel, however, that it is an unfortunate waste of a fervent and fiery mind. Should I be able to attain a harmonious education from an engaging school such as Bard, I have no doubts that I will flourish in ways I cannot possibly imagine. It may be greasy, I may get messy, but I will end the experience a richer, “fuller” person.
See this page to find out where this student got in.