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See How John’s Essay Was Transformed By An EssayEdge Editor, Which Got Him Admitted To His First Choice School.

Before

I still remember, quite vividly, that one day about ten or eleven years ago. A family friend had just brought me and my sister home from an outing, and he was walking us into our house. I would soon discover that after walking through my white front doors, I would never be quite the same again - I would finally and completely realize the grave situation that would have the most influence on my life thereafter. Upon entering the house, I could smell a very sour and acrid odor emanating from the living room, and I could also hear a person groaning disconcertingly. As we walked slowly into the living room, a staggering sight met our eyes. There, lying face down on a couch, was my father, with an ashen-faced complexion. His head was completely bald, and his grisly figure appeared enervated. He was gasping for air, and then suddenly, without a warning, he grabbed a blue pan, put his face to it, and just vomited with such vehemence that it really shook me. Before this, I used to think words like "cancer", "tumor", "chemotherapy", etc. - were all terms describing a simple illness that went away as fast as the common cold. Upon seeing what was happening to my father, I then realized that colon cancer was neither quick nor painless, but rather agonizing and disturbing. After vomiting, my dad lifted his frail head up and uttered a weak "Hello," before vomiting even more. I looked at our friend, and I understood the look on his face. "Let's go to my house, Jeff," he said, "Let your dad rest - he has been fighting brave and hard."

My dad, my hero; the one whom I cherished and looked up to for love and guidance, was now battling for his life. His colon cancer was first detected in 1987, and for the next two years or so, things got worse as the illness became more and more malignant. The whole situation was then exacerbated by a series of debilitating surgeries and chemotherapy treatments. Because of this ordeal, my mom had to spend most of her time, energy, effort, not to mention large amounts of money, taking care of my father's health. As a result, my mother had to set aside both my needs and my sister's needs. Because of this involuntary neglect, I, as a seven-year-old developing child, never got much of a chance to expand my talents and personality, and many opportunities, such as learning piano at a very young age, had to be put off because of this family crisis. I had trouble coping with the absence of my father, due to his constant hospitalization, and I had problems finding my identity, lacking a close role model to look up to. I had difficulty performing well in school, and I felt bad when I saw other children already cultivating their talents and skills at very early ages. From around age seven to recent times, I've been at a disadvantage compared to my peers, in terms of personal maturation, intellectual development, and talent growth. I had been "lagging" behind.

Like my father, I too had a struggle to overcome, and I was determined to fight on. But the path ahead was not going to be easy; it was going to be a test of patience and perseverance.

Growing up without a "dad" figure at my side, I had always felt different from the other children. In elementary and middle school, I noticed that most other youths always seemed happy, easy-going, and extroverted. I remember that I knew a lot of peers around me who always got the newest clothing and toys, but since my family had a tight budget, we weren't able to afford any luxuries. I saw other kids taking long family vacations with their dads, while I saw my own father lying in bed. I remember a classmate asking me, "Where are you going this summer?" and I replied, "I'm going to the hospital to see my dad." I was quiet, shy, and timid, since my parents weren't always there to encourage me to express myself openly. Thus besides having kept to myself, I had problems communicating with others, and at one point it had gotten so bad that I was avoiding human contact, and couldn't bring myself to look at people's faces when they were speaking to me. Some children considered me an outcast; therefore I was often the target of harassment and ridicule. Early on, I had a low self-esteem, which was worsened by my poor performance in school. My dad had always stressed academics quite heavily, but after seeing my grades, I felt like I had failed my father, just like his health had failed him. Adding to the blow, I saw others around me already learning instruments, attending tutoring programs, and picking up art lessons - all at very young ages. I was a late starter, and that would be the cause of my struggle. Often, my predicament seemed hopeless - others were better off than I was; I was picked on and ignored by peers; I had an identity problem and was unable to express myself well; I had a hard time in school, and my talents were atrophying away. At a lot of times, I would simply say to myself, "I can't take this any longer. I don't have the patience or the spirit for this - I just don't know what to do anymore."

Funny how I said all that, because whenever I felt like giving up, my dad would pop into my mind: Boom. A crystal clear memory of that day when I saw my dad throwing up and dying right before my eyes, and when the family friend said to me, "Let your dad rest - he's been fighting brave and hard."

I saw the truth in this. My dad fought and struggled with the disease, and never once did he give in, because if he had, he probably wouldn't be alive today. By his bearing all that suffering just so that he could live another day to see his family, he had taught me determination and steadfastness. He taught me to never give up. I then realized that I had to go on and defeat this difficult but crucial time period in my life; thus, I made up my mind. I will catch up. I will fully develop my personality, which had been holding me back. I will improve my academics, no matter what, and I will go out of my way to harvest my talents. No more delays. No more fear. No more shame, and most importantly, no more giving up.

Beginning in middle school and all the way through high school, I worked hard and persistently to catch up, and I've accomplished a lot of my goals. Beginning in the sixth grade, I really started to focus on academics, and with each passing year, I got better and better grades. Particularly, these past few years in high school, I've been proud of my exceptionally high marks, and I owe all my determination to my father's high academic standards and the valuable lesson he had taught me. Also in middle school, I tried to catch up in cultivating one of my talents and interests - piano. I know that others who had been playing for a while had an advantage over me, as learning an instrument such as the piano is best undertaken at very young ages. But following my dad's attitude, I pushed myself; I practiced and practiced, although it became more difficult to find practice time as my grade level advanced. Finally, I had practiced so much that my teacher allowed me to skip levels in the piano Certificate of Merit exam, just so I could get up to speed with the others. As a result, I jumped from a CM level 4 to a level 8 in just two years. This is another accomplishment of which I am especially proud of, and in March of 2001, I achieved the level 9. My dad's tenacity had motivated me to pursue not only a musical talent, but other things as well, such as tennis, abacus, Chinese school, and tutoring. But I think the crowning achievement of my youth was my ability to overcome my personality flaw. In eighth grade, I sacrificed time for other activities, and joined an Asian youth leadership program, which basically taught me how to communicate openly and effectively as a peer mentor, and as a leader in the community. I am now able to speak clearly and confidently to my peers, and it has worked wonders. Last year, I was even able to host an open house event for the program, speaking comfortably in front of a very large audience, an accomplished feat of which I am very proud of and that I owe to my father, my reason for living.

My dad had been at my side all this time. Even if he had been lying sick in bed from chemotherapy treatments, his spirit was with me every step of the way. He taught me how to live life as well as the most fundamental of all problem-solving skills: never give up, no matter how desperate things seem. Watching him in deep discomfort and agony, seeing him suffer with dignity, is something that I'll never forget. His struggle with the cancer became a model for my own struggle to get caught up, especially during my early childhood and adolescence. I've worked long and hard, doing whatever I could to make up for all those years of lost progress. His will to live on became my will to work harder and to improve my person as a whole, all for the sake of catching up. Fortunately, my father's will paid off, as in 1992, there was a period of remission. He got better, but my struggle didn't stop then, because it was ongoing. I continued the fight through elementary, middle, and high school, and even now in my senior year, I've been struggling, especially with college entrance tests like the SAT. Nevertheless, I can never thank my dad enough for what he has given me. I think I'll go to my dad now, and really show him all of my accomplishments. Perhaps he'll then say to me: "I'm proud of you son...you've been fighting brave and hard."

 

AFTER

 

EssayEdge significantly improves each essay using the same voice as the author. The only way to evaluate editing is to compare the original essay with the edited version. We significantly improve essays both for clients who write poorly and for clients who write well.

Edited Essay

 

When I walked through my front door, the first thing I noticed was the odor. Then, I heard the groaning. I remember the occasion quite vividly, although it was ten years ago. My sister and I had just returned from the park with a neighbor, expecting everything to be normal. I soon discovered that nothing would ever be normal again.

As we slowly inched into the living room, a staggering sight met our eyes. There, lying facedown on a couch, was my father, ashen-faced and trembling. His head was completely bald, and his grisly figure appeared enervated. He was gasping for air, and then suddenly, he grabbed a blue pan, plunged his face into it, and vomited with such vehemence that I shivered. Only then did I fully understand what it meant for my dad to have cancer. At seven years old, I confronted the horrors of cancer in my living room, and realized for the first time that my father was fighting to survive. Catching me out of the corner of his eye, he raised his head from the blue pan and uttered a weak, "Hello," only to vomit again--this time missing the pan. My neighbor saw my face, put his hand on my shoulder, and whispered, "Let your dad rest--he has been fighting brave and hard."

My dad, my hero. The source of my love and guidance was now battling for his life. After the doctors detected the colon cancer in 1987, the tumor became more and more malignant, and the effects on my family were more and more severe. A long series of debilitating surgeries and chemotherapy treatments consumed my father's life, and by extension, enveloped my entire family. My mother, now a de facto nurse and breadwinner, spent her time and energy, not to mention large amounts of the family's money, fiercely battling my father's cancer. Meanwhile, my sister and I began to "lag" behind in school and in life--willing casualties of cancer's war.

Growing up without a father figure at my side, I always felt distanced from my classmates. In elementary and middle school, I noticed that most other kids communicated and played with ease. I, by contrast, was quiet, timid, and introverted, isolated at home and at school. I feared human contact so much that, for a period of time, I could not even bring myself to look into the faces of people who spoke to me. Some children considered me an outcast--an easy target for harassment and ridicule.

My depreciated self-esteem affected my performance in school. Ridiculed by my classmates, I lost the confidence to excel. In a vicious spiral, each bad grade would not only further undermine my confidence, but also make me feel as if I had failed my father, who cared so much about academics when he was healthy. I was ashamed of every report card I showed him, mistaking his concern for disappointment.

One day, I decided finally to change my life. Listening to my classmates' stories of art lessons and gymnastics, activities as foreign to me as family car trips and vacations, I recalled my neighbor's statement: "Let your dad rest--he has been fighting brave and hard." I finally realized that the example of how to improve my life had been in front of me the entire time. My dad had fought and struggled to survive his disease--a disease that has claimed millions of victims. By fighting it and enduring the suffering to live another day with his family, he had taught me in the clearest possible way that I should never give up, that I could surmount any obstacle, and that I could build a happy life for myself. I made up my mind. I would face the world "brave and hard," and I would cast off the anxiety which had so shackled my personality. I would work to improve my grades and would shine as a student. I would cultivate my talents with an active passion. No more delays. No more fear. No more shame. Most importantly, no more giving up.

After reaching this decision in middle school, I worked persistently to catch up and surpass my peers. I have accomplished my goal. Since the sixth grade, my marks in school have steadily improved, and I have been particularly proud of my strong marks in high school. In addition, I have applied my eager determination to mastering the piano, and I continue to cultivate my love for the instrument to this day. Although I have competed with musicians who have been playing since childhood, I have always remained resolute and committed. With the strength my dad taught me to apply to life, I have pushed myself forward, doggedly practicing despite the increasing demands of my high school curriculum. I recently passed "Level 9" of the Certificate of Merit exam, catching up with--and even surpassing--many other students my age and older.

More than any other milestone I have reached, I am most proud of my success in overcoming my shyness. In eighth grade, I made the decision to join an Asian youth leadership program, which would compel me to communicate frequently with my peers. I knew that my role as a mentor and community leader would teach me to speak clearly and confidently. My participation in this program worked wonders. I now feel at ease amongst my classmates and friends, and last year, I even hosted an open house event for the program, speaking comfortably in front of a large audience.

I am proud of the changes I have made in my life, and I owe all my strength to my father. My dad has been at my side every step of the way. Even as a bedridden cancer patient, ravaged by chemotherapy, his example taught me to face adversity and to conquer it, no matter the nature of the challenge. His struggle with colon cancer became a model for my own struggle to improve myself. Even today, I continue to fight, struggling with college entrance tests. Despite the challenge, I continue unshaken, knowing that the truest test of my ability is my determination to live bravely like my father and to overcome the hardships of life. I can never thank my dad enough for what he has given me. He has become my role model, and I hope that one day, many years from now, he will say to me, "I'm proud of you son--you have been fighting brave and hard."

 

Customer's Comments

"I am so happy I chose to use EssayEdge because of my teacher's recommendation. I expected a major improvement, but nowhere near the quality of both the comments and suggested revisions. You have a tremendously valuable service. The essay actually brought tears to my eyes, and you know what, I think it will do the same to the admissions office!"

 

Critique

Dear John,

This narrative describing your growth as the son of a cancer patient is well chosen, and your essay makes a very powerful statement. The description of how you learned to emulate your father's resolve after initially feeling like you lacked a strong "dad" role model is quite extraordinary. You are absolutely right to call your father, "my dad, my hero." I have no doubt that this essay will resonate with the admissions office.

Since it is evident that you have learned a great deal and have reflected upon your past astutely, I felt very comfortable improving upon the rhetorical elements of your essay and heightening the sophistication of your language so that admissions officers can gain the clearest and most complementary picture of your personality.

 

Here are my specific comments on the individual paragraphs of your essay:

Paragraph 1

Your original introduction was rather wordy, and it is essential that you grab the reader's attention with your first words. See how I have broken up your original introduction and have provided short, pithy sentences that immediately draw the reader into your narrative.

"Upon seeing what was happening to my father, I then realized that colon cancer was neither quick nor painless, but rather agonizing and disturbing."

It is important to illustrate how your understanding of cancer developed, but you do not want to suggest that you had entirely unrealistic perceptions of the disease prior to the experience of your father's illness.

Paragraphs 2 - 4

It was necessary to cut down on needless repetition in these paragraphs. You often began discussing a topic (for example, your shyness as a child), then you would change the subject (say, to financial problems), and then you would return to the original idea of being an introverted child. For this reason, I reorganized parts of these paragraphs in order to keep your ideas focused and to give them each their proper turn to be discussed.

It is useful to remember that admissions officers can be very impatient when reading applicants' essays (they often read dozens in a day). If they see you repeating yourself, they will think that you have no other thoughts to offer, and they may stop reading your essay altogether.

"Because of this ordeal, my mom had to spend most of her time, energy, effort, not to mention large amounts of money, taking care of my father's health."

This is a great supporting detail, but you can give it more verve by describing the specific new roles that your mother had to assume. Here is my suggestion: "My mother, now a de facto nurse and breadwinner, spent her time and energy, not to mention large amounts of the family's money, fiercely battling my father's cancer."

Paragraphs 5 - 8

You need to avoid being melodramatic in these paragraphs. You tread on dangerous ground in writing: "I think I'll go to my dad now, and really show him all of my accomplishments. Perhaps he'll then say to me: 'I'm proud of you son...you've been fighting brave and hard.'" Such effusive writing will alienate your reader, who will feel that you are manipulating his emotions and will doubt both your sincerity and the veracity of your account. See the revised treatment of this idea that I have proposed in my edit.

". . . whenever I felt like giving up, my dad would pop into my mind: Boom."

You should maintain a more formal voice in essay writing.

Overall, I found that your language was vibrant and that it required little improvement. You successfully varied sentence structure and length to avoid monotony, and your diction was easy to read and colloquial. However, I did notice that you often settled for bland verbs when more colorful and appropriate ones were available. For example, I changed "moved" to "inched," and "said" to "whispered." Always try to use active verbs since they give your writing more force. In addition, always be sure to eliminate the passive voice and to avoid "to be" verbs.

Your revised essay is much more powerful, as I believe you will see by reading the original and revised versions.

 

Sincerely,

Your EssayEdge Editor

 

 

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