So this is just my first draft for the common app open question. It has no title yet, but feel free to share any ideas on that. I'd really appreciate thoughts and constructive criticism!
At seventeen years of age, I am only slightly embarrassed to admit that I still own a baby blanket. Fourteen years in my possession have transformed the texture of my blanket from soft to aged graininess and the bodies of the polar bears, who break up the solid sky-blue fabric, from an audacious white to the modest beige of the pages of a well-worn novel. This childish comfort has become an integral part of my life, from travelling alongside me to actually being partially entrusted to the people who have meant the most to me in recent years.
Blankey actually had two predecessors, one who was lost and another who suffered a tragic end in the gullet of a hotel vacuum cleaner. At three years old, I personally choose the polar-bear blanket from the clearance table at Gymboree despite my mother’s preference for a yellow one with ducks. Since the day I picked that blanket, I never waivered in my attachment, although I’ve long since outgrown dragging it along for car rides and preschool. Just like I invested myself fully in the blanket I choose, I’m extremely committed to the activities and goals that I elect for myself. While the pressures of high school prompted me to cease piano lessons, which my parents choose for me, I have continued to play the euphonium, which I choose in sixth grade, despite the allure of another free period. Similarly, rowing is the only sport that I chose on my own, and it is the one that I intend to continue long past my high school years. While I have always been enthusiastic about service, the act I am most proud of was the fundraiser that I personally organized in eighth grade to help Darfur. Just like I am devoted to my blanket, I have fully invested myself in the things that I choose for myself.
Although Blankey’s days are typically rather monotonous, every now and then it accompanies me on some sort of adventure. I packed it for every camp I went to despite the inevitable embarrassment the first night I revealed my childish friend. The summer before my junior year, Blankey joined me for my greatest adventure yet, a two-week exchange in Holland. While I enthusiastically tried to immerse myself in Dutch culture, at times the extremely liberal and outgoing culture of my hosts made me uncomfortable, but Blanket helped me overcome any trepidation. Throughout all of my experiences away from my community and comfort zone, Blankey has served as a piece of what is familiar that enables me to dive headfirst into the unknown with some confidence.
Over the past two years, I have had to part from five people who have made huge impacts on me. As a way of staying connected to each of these girls, I have given away five pieces of my beloved Blankey as parting gifts. Now when I hold the incomplete fabric, I am reminded of the friends who taught me to accept people no matter how different they are, to occasionally step back and reflect on how fortunate I am, and to be inquisitive and unembarrassed to ask questions.
Part of me fears that Blankey will one day be near-nonexistent from giving away so many pieces, but I mainly look forward to meeting people who mean that much to me. As I anticipate the next great adventure in my life, I may not know where I’ll matriculate or what I’ll be studying, but I do know that Blankey will be in tow. Hearing that what school I go to is one of the biggest decision of my life only excites me because I know that I will fully invest myself in and make the most of where I choose to go just like I have certainly made the most of my beloved Clearance table find.
At seventeen years of age, I am only slightly embarrassed to admit that I still own a baby blanket. Fourteen years in my possession have transformed the texture of my blanket from soft to aged graininess and the bodies of the polar bears, who break up the solid sky-blue fabric, from an audacious white to the modest beige of the pages of a well-worn novel. This childish comfort has become an integral part of my life, from travelling alongside me to actually being partially entrusted to the people who have meant the most to me in recent years.
Blankey actually had two predecessors, one who was lost and another who suffered a tragic end in the gullet of a hotel vacuum cleaner. At three years old, I personally choose the polar-bear blanket from the clearance table at Gymboree despite my mother’s preference for a yellow one with ducks. Since the day I picked that blanket, I never waivered in my attachment, although I’ve long since outgrown dragging it along for car rides and preschool. Just like I invested myself fully in the blanket I choose, I’m extremely committed to the activities and goals that I elect for myself. While the pressures of high school prompted me to cease piano lessons, which my parents choose for me, I have continued to play the euphonium, which I choose in sixth grade, despite the allure of another free period. Similarly, rowing is the only sport that I chose on my own, and it is the one that I intend to continue long past my high school years. While I have always been enthusiastic about service, the act I am most proud of was the fundraiser that I personally organized in eighth grade to help Darfur. Just like I am devoted to my blanket, I have fully invested myself in the things that I choose for myself.
Although Blankey’s days are typically rather monotonous, every now and then it accompanies me on some sort of adventure. I packed it for every camp I went to despite the inevitable embarrassment the first night I revealed my childish friend. The summer before my junior year, Blankey joined me for my greatest adventure yet, a two-week exchange in Holland. While I enthusiastically tried to immerse myself in Dutch culture, at times the extremely liberal and outgoing culture of my hosts made me uncomfortable, but Blanket helped me overcome any trepidation. Throughout all of my experiences away from my community and comfort zone, Blankey has served as a piece of what is familiar that enables me to dive headfirst into the unknown with some confidence.
Over the past two years, I have had to part from five people who have made huge impacts on me. As a way of staying connected to each of these girls, I have given away five pieces of my beloved Blankey as parting gifts. Now when I hold the incomplete fabric, I am reminded of the friends who taught me to accept people no matter how different they are, to occasionally step back and reflect on how fortunate I am, and to be inquisitive and unembarrassed to ask questions.
Part of me fears that Blankey will one day be near-nonexistent from giving away so many pieces, but I mainly look forward to meeting people who mean that much to me. As I anticipate the next great adventure in my life, I may not know where I’ll matriculate or what I’ll be studying, but I do know that Blankey will be in tow. Hearing that what school I go to is one of the biggest decision of my life only excites me because I know that I will fully invest myself in and make the most of where I choose to go just like I have certainly made the most of my beloved Clearance table find.