Is My College Application essay good enough?
Looking back on the past five years of my life, I wonder how I ever came so far. How did that proud young Nazi, that staunch fascist and passion-led creature ever become the critical thinking feminist, cultural rebel, and amateur philosopher she is now? It may have begun in the invasion of Palestine in 1948, or even when my mother remarried, but the wheels were truly set in motion on August 23, 2006, the day my father died.
My parents had been an incongruous couple. My father, born in the mid-fifties to a protestant family of farmers, carefree and lighthearted, and my mother, a “beautiful exotic” as my paternal aunt called her, from Northwestern Africa, a devout Muslim, ambitious, passionate and always ready to vehemently contend with any who slighted her or voiced opinions contrary to her own. They were good for each other; they moderated each other, checking the other’s extreme tendencies.
My mother changed after his death; her scathing criticism intensified, her disdain for American culture turned into disgust and her political agenda turned extreme. Maybe it was the fact that after my father’s death his family cut ties with ours, or her inability to moderate herself, or some inner weakness within. Nonetheless, my father’s death marked my indoctrination into antisemitism and Islamic Fundamentalism.
Americans, my mother taught me, were selfish, promiscuous, fat, belligerent, stupid, and above all, irreligious. My father’s family was held as the prime example of American sinfulness. Their selfish individualism in abandoning us, Cousin Louise’s promiscuity with her illegitimate child, Cousin Cassie’s obesity, Uncle Joe’s aggressive foreign policy, Cousin Steven’s poor grades and work ethic, and their sinfully lenient approach to religion. Happy memories of my paternal family were slowly eroded by time, my mother’s lessons, and their absence. In time, I came to hate them as false devils that represented all evil in the world.
I worshiped my mother, her being the only person in the world that would die for me as she constantly reminded me. Her words were sacred truth. Jews were liars who invented the Holocaust to garner pity and invade Palestine, the only acceptable form of law was Islamic Sharia, women were meant to be obedient to men, and freedom of speech was the devil’s invention. I proudly brought her beliefs to school and accepted ostracism and loneliness to come home to her praise and welcoming arms. At twelve, I possessed the answers to all the great questions in life, needing only to ask my mother and I would be enlightened. It wasn’t until my mother’s remarriage that I would start questioning.
Her new husband was a chauvinist whom she slavishly obeyed. Suddenly I could no longer speak with my male friends, I was forbidden from listening to music, and my beloved art was destroyed. My mother disowned me when she learned I had called the authorities when her husband attempted to molest me. In the midst of my pain a single, rebellious thought occurred to me: my thoughts have value. The supernova of my mind was sparked by that single thought and from the dust I have been reborn an ignorant but pure individual. I do not regret the things I have experienced; otherwise I would never have changed. I have been unable to stop thinking: are my perceptions real? Can the individual exist without Society? Does anyone truly do good or evil sincerely? I don’t know these answers, along with many others, but I do know one thing: I will always pursue truth and there is no greater peace than the peace of truth.
Do you think this is good enough to get into Wellesley? I only have a 3.0 but I’ve always taken the most difficult classes and I got a perfect 800 on the reading section of the SAT and I’m the president of a philosphy club and a volunteer club.
Well, I learned a lot about your mother and that you don’t know what a “Nazi” is.
I don’t think that this is necessarily a bad topic, but this essay is poorly written and boring. The admissions office wants to know about *you,* not your mother. You have an awful lot going on here, but it’s all boring. You’ve basically made a laundry list of why your life sucked – not what admissions wants to see. Work on exemplifying the phrase “show, don’t tell.”
I agree with the above response that the introduction and conclusion are too abrupt. Work on getting all the pieces to fit together. Make one single point and stick with it. Ask some of your teachers or other people with good writing skills to help you proofread.