Sample Essay #5 |
UNTITLED (The screaming silence) |
The following essay was written by one of my students for the Common Application essay.
When reading it, note the following:
Untitled
As the intermission of my high school’s production of Cats came to an end, the lights went down and the musicians played the opening notes of the third act—at least, they tried. While the actors began dancing, it became awkward when no sound came from the band. The show had already started, and being the sound designer, I started to panic.
My head grew heavy and my shoulders tensed up as I ran backstage to fix the problem. With people shouting at me, I couldn’t concentrate on the sound issue. One hundred voices yelled in my head as I tried and failed to locate the fatal flaw. One of the voices said, “We must stop the show for technical difficulties.” I pushed it out of my head, rendering this not an option. I looked up, however, and realized that the voice was not inside my head—it was the voice of the stage manager who had gone on stage and stopped the show. Anxiety overwhelmed me as I realized that my first show as a sound designer had been ruined because of a flaw in my sound design.
Realizing that I could not fix the problem, I plugged the instruments into guitar amplifiers rather than through the sound system. This would compromise all of the sound quality and four weeks of my hard work on the sound system, but poor quality beat no music at all. Once the sound was up and running, the show resumed as I collapsed face-first backstage.
After the show, I calmed down and looked backstage. Sure enough, the problem was right in front of me the whole time: one lousy unplugged cable. I secured the cable with approximately seventeen thousand pieces of electrical tape so that it would not get unplugged again. Later, I saw a message on the whiteboard backstage that read, “Kudos to Jack for doing a good job handling a stressful situation.” I turned to my friend and we both immediately burst out laughing. As much as I appreciated the positivity, unless running around screaming was considered constructive, I recognized that I did not do a good job at all. Rather, I spent ten minutes sprinting around the theater losing my mind. The panic had paralyzed me as I watched the disaster unfold.
I wrote my own message on the board in response:
“Thanks, but this is untrue.”
While I was able to laugh at myself after the show, it was important to me that people understood that I did not deserve those kudos written on the board. I had not systematically analyzed the problem the way I should have, and for this reason, I did not want people to believe that I was some technical genius who found and fixed the problem. Rather, I came up with a temporary fix in the heat the moment. It wasn’t the real solution to the problem, but at least it allowed the show to resume as soon as possible.
While I was having a meltdown backstage, I never could have fathomed that an hour later I would gain an optimistic perspective of the issue. The show was only held for a total of ten minutes, and the audience was happy to socialize for a bit longer. Nobody (to my knowledge) went home and said, “I liked the show, but that long intermission really ruined my night!” While I had beat myself up over the mistake earlier in the evening, I was not going to let one mishap negate the incredible experience I had working on the show. I went to the cast party that night with a clear head knowing three things: One, I need to stop and take a breath next time I’m in a stressful situation. Two, I can put a positive spin on anything to keep up my spirits. Lastly, and most importantly, there’s no such thing as too much electrical tape.
When reading it, note the following:
- Catchy introductory paragraph
- Vivid descriptions throughout
- Uses embarrassing moment to reveal problem-solving skills, determination, humility, sense of humor, and positive attitude
- Honest self-reflection shows the lessons learned
Untitled
As the intermission of my high school’s production of Cats came to an end, the lights went down and the musicians played the opening notes of the third act—at least, they tried. While the actors began dancing, it became awkward when no sound came from the band. The show had already started, and being the sound designer, I started to panic.
My head grew heavy and my shoulders tensed up as I ran backstage to fix the problem. With people shouting at me, I couldn’t concentrate on the sound issue. One hundred voices yelled in my head as I tried and failed to locate the fatal flaw. One of the voices said, “We must stop the show for technical difficulties.” I pushed it out of my head, rendering this not an option. I looked up, however, and realized that the voice was not inside my head—it was the voice of the stage manager who had gone on stage and stopped the show. Anxiety overwhelmed me as I realized that my first show as a sound designer had been ruined because of a flaw in my sound design.
Realizing that I could not fix the problem, I plugged the instruments into guitar amplifiers rather than through the sound system. This would compromise all of the sound quality and four weeks of my hard work on the sound system, but poor quality beat no music at all. Once the sound was up and running, the show resumed as I collapsed face-first backstage.
After the show, I calmed down and looked backstage. Sure enough, the problem was right in front of me the whole time: one lousy unplugged cable. I secured the cable with approximately seventeen thousand pieces of electrical tape so that it would not get unplugged again. Later, I saw a message on the whiteboard backstage that read, “Kudos to Jack for doing a good job handling a stressful situation.” I turned to my friend and we both immediately burst out laughing. As much as I appreciated the positivity, unless running around screaming was considered constructive, I recognized that I did not do a good job at all. Rather, I spent ten minutes sprinting around the theater losing my mind. The panic had paralyzed me as I watched the disaster unfold.
I wrote my own message on the board in response:
“Thanks, but this is untrue.”
While I was able to laugh at myself after the show, it was important to me that people understood that I did not deserve those kudos written on the board. I had not systematically analyzed the problem the way I should have, and for this reason, I did not want people to believe that I was some technical genius who found and fixed the problem. Rather, I came up with a temporary fix in the heat the moment. It wasn’t the real solution to the problem, but at least it allowed the show to resume as soon as possible.
While I was having a meltdown backstage, I never could have fathomed that an hour later I would gain an optimistic perspective of the issue. The show was only held for a total of ten minutes, and the audience was happy to socialize for a bit longer. Nobody (to my knowledge) went home and said, “I liked the show, but that long intermission really ruined my night!” While I had beat myself up over the mistake earlier in the evening, I was not going to let one mishap negate the incredible experience I had working on the show. I went to the cast party that night with a clear head knowing three things: One, I need to stop and take a breath next time I’m in a stressful situation. Two, I can put a positive spin on anything to keep up my spirits. Lastly, and most importantly, there’s no such thing as too much electrical tape.
