My Community: College Admission Essay Sample

As I plug in the radio and balance the camera on a few shoeboxes, I yell for everyone to get in their spot, then hit record. We dance around the room and jump on the bed shouting the lyrics of the new Hannah Montana CD. I don’t have a worry in the world. Every day was a new adventure for my neighbors and I. Maybe we would sneak around the creek behind my house, or maybe we would go door-to-door, trying to sell our old stuffed animals. No matter what, we were always able to turn a mediocre day into something special.

The neighborhood where I grew up broke the stereotype of an African-American community. My neighbors were well educated, middle-class citizens, who not only looked out for themselves but for the well being of the entire neighborhood. I learned from a very young age to support those around you, whether or not you are related, look the same, or have the same beliefs. My neighbors and I didn’t talk about our differences – we went on playing, building our relationships – we didn’t care. Soon enough we were well-versed in one another’s culture and began taking on characteristics and traits of one another. We were good enough for one another and never dared to ask the other person to change.

While my parents were educated, we lacked the privileges many of our neighbors seemed to be able to afford – luxury cars and private schools. Suddenly in 2008, many of our neighbors were forced to leave their homes due to financial problems similar to those my family had been facing. A sense of community that was once there suddenly evaporated.No longer having my friends to confide in, I became overwhelmed with my secret academic struggles and social isolation.

As a third grader learning to read seemed like a hurdle I could never jump over. “Read the next paragraph,” my mom would say to me. But I couldn’t. Nausea. Shame. Defeated before even beginning. No matter how hard I tried, my eyes wouldn’t focus and the words would never come out right. There were tests and special materials given to prod my reading along until finally, the words began to make sense. Three years of feeling stupid and embarrassed led me to constantly compare my failures to others’ successes. I tried to mold myself into the things my new friends were good at, rather than what I knew would make me happy.

Homeschooled until the eighth grade, I was constantly encouraged by my family to think independently, but others in our local homeschool community frowned upon opinions that were not religiously motivated nor supported. My biology textbook condemned Darwin, and my teachers humiliated those who dared to ask about Evolution. I was consistently left with more questions than answers. When I started public high school I felt that my thoughts lacked merit and I wasn’t even sure of what I stood for as a person. My U.S. History teacher helped me realize that my opinions and thoughts were of intellectual value, reminding me that I was the only person who could truly decide what I believed in. My academic struggles have taught me how to be compassionate towards others and dedicate myself in whatever endeavors I choose.

My neighbors and family taught me to embrace the person I am, and to never make my voice smaller for others. Whenever a difficult situation arises in my life, I think back on how my neighbors, teachers, and family have supported me, and I realize everything they have told me is true – I can accomplish anything I want to, no matter what people tell me, what I tell myself, or what hurdles I may face. I can do anything.