Sample College Admission Essay: Influential Person - Continued

by EssayEdge.com - The World's Premier Application Essay Editing Service

Page 2 of 3    Back

Sample College Admissions Essay One
Sample College Admissions Essay two

“Carrie, how could you get this question wrong?”

“I . . . I . . . don’t know,” I managed, lowering my head in shame, unable to look at Mrs. Stith’s disappointed face.

“Don’t you know what a preposition is?”

“Yes, Mrs. Stith,” I replied, knowing that this blunder meant K.P. duty. I would have to study my composition book a little extra tonight.

I can’t pinpoint exactly why, but sometime during those first few weeks I decided to study hard and make Mrs. Stith proud of me. Maybe I dreamed of following in my older brother’s prominent footsteps (sometimes I thought they were left by Bigfoot). I wanted to be as studious and intelligent as Christopher. I couldn’t destroy the name that my brother and I had established. Mediocrity wasn’t part of my vocabulary. I had always been the best in class, favored by my teachers and often chosen to read aloud or go to the chalkboard to do multiplication tables. The difference was that now it didn’t come so easily. I would have to work.

Two-page reports turned into detailed posters explaining the formation of igneous, metamorphic, and sedimentary rocks. Mrs. Stith noticed her students’ best efforts and rewarded us for hard work with smelly stickers. We loved those stickers and hung them on the wall. One could easily discern my long trail of grapes, strawberries and apples. Reading packets became enjoyable. I left the world of Ramona Quimby and discovered Miss Havisham’s mansion, the plummeting guillotine and Jacob Marley’s rattling chains. That year marked the beginning of my battle with the nerd syndrome.

Fifth grade helped establish my reputation as a brain. I would skip recess and stay after school just to talk with Mrs. Stith. I would spend hours every night studying beyond the assigned homework. I didn’t mind if other kids laughed at me for being studious; they just hadn’t met the real Mrs. Stith. I no longer saw her as a rigid drill sergeant; now she was a helpful platoon leader. For my part, I was no longer a raw recruit but well on my way to becoming a skilled soldier.