Woe is chris....
So here it is, by popular demand, my Columbia Essay:
(Note: most, nay, all of this has been exagerated to make my childhood look more pathetic, and thus make my current state of affairs look like more of an accomplishment. My oppinion of this essay is that it is ridiculous, but Mrs. Marrs and my parents think it like pulitzer worthy. Hey, if it will get me into college...)
I am happy with who I am, and to me that is the most important thing in life. However, it has been a long, hard journey getting here.
In third grade, when I was eight years old, the teachers began taking me aside for special tests. They didn’t tell me why I had to take more tests than the rest of the class, and I didn’t really care except for the fact that I missed recess. About half way through the year, it all became clear when my parents informed me that I was going to skip a grade. Basically, I was in third grade on that Friday and in fourth grade the next Monday. While academically I was fine, making such an abrupt jump devastated me socially. I had been one of the most popular kids in my class, but the older kids told me I was just a stupid third grader, and that that was where I belonged. They also ganged up on me on the playground. It was about the most traumatizing experience in the world for an eight year old.
But things were about to get much worse. My parents had divorced before I was old enough to walk, but by third grade they both had remarried. Of my four parents, all of whom had active involvement in my life, my stepfather was the only one who acted more like a friend than a parent. While my dad was requesting extra math homework from my teachers so I could spend my summer breaks getting caught up with the fundamentals that I missed in third grade, my stepfather was building model rockets with me and showing me how to make the perfect fireplace fire. He was the one who was always on my side. When he died of an aneurysm, I was only ten. I felt like I lost my best friend, a situation made even harsher by the fact that I really didn’t have any friends at school.
At the end of that year, my parents decided that I would do much better in private school. Although I despised my public school and was glad to leave it (the curriculum was boring, and I was still isolated and friendless), the transition to private school was almost as traumatizing to me as skipping third grade. The difficulty of the curriculum increased by leaps and bounds, and my social ineptness was only compounded by the fact that I was again an outsider, one of the small handful of kids who did not go to Seven Hills elementary schools. Things were awful for another two years. Then, midway through eighth grade, people I didn’t even know began to laugh when I made jokes. That was probably the single most important revelation in my life: people didn’t really dislike me, I discovered, they just didn’t know me. I began to gain confidence that I had not had since I was eight years old. I could see that my classmates liked me, and I entered a new group of friends that I am still proud to call my friends today.
Looking back on my childhood, I realize how long I spent in isolation and boredom, and I find myself wondering if I would change my past if I could. While I certainly do not relish what I remember as a lonely childhood, my answer would be an emphatic NO! I could not imagine myself being happier than with how things turned out. I can conceive of no other group of friends that could replace the people I have come to love and trust. I am sure that if I had continued in public school and in my old grade, on paper my academic performance might appear much more impressive, and my middle school social life would have been more rewarding. If I were a high school junior right now in the Sycamore Public School district, I do not doubt that I could have a substantially higher GPA. However, I would not give any GPA for the things I have learned and teachers I have had in the Seven Hills School as a member of the Class of 2005.
(Note: most, nay, all of this has been exagerated to make my childhood look more pathetic, and thus make my current state of affairs look like more of an accomplishment. My oppinion of this essay is that it is ridiculous, but Mrs. Marrs and my parents think it like pulitzer worthy. Hey, if it will get me into college...)
I am happy with who I am, and to me that is the most important thing in life. However, it has been a long, hard journey getting here.
In third grade, when I was eight years old, the teachers began taking me aside for special tests. They didn’t tell me why I had to take more tests than the rest of the class, and I didn’t really care except for the fact that I missed recess. About half way through the year, it all became clear when my parents informed me that I was going to skip a grade. Basically, I was in third grade on that Friday and in fourth grade the next Monday. While academically I was fine, making such an abrupt jump devastated me socially. I had been one of the most popular kids in my class, but the older kids told me I was just a stupid third grader, and that that was where I belonged. They also ganged up on me on the playground. It was about the most traumatizing experience in the world for an eight year old.
But things were about to get much worse. My parents had divorced before I was old enough to walk, but by third grade they both had remarried. Of my four parents, all of whom had active involvement in my life, my stepfather was the only one who acted more like a friend than a parent. While my dad was requesting extra math homework from my teachers so I could spend my summer breaks getting caught up with the fundamentals that I missed in third grade, my stepfather was building model rockets with me and showing me how to make the perfect fireplace fire. He was the one who was always on my side. When he died of an aneurysm, I was only ten. I felt like I lost my best friend, a situation made even harsher by the fact that I really didn’t have any friends at school.
At the end of that year, my parents decided that I would do much better in private school. Although I despised my public school and was glad to leave it (the curriculum was boring, and I was still isolated and friendless), the transition to private school was almost as traumatizing to me as skipping third grade. The difficulty of the curriculum increased by leaps and bounds, and my social ineptness was only compounded by the fact that I was again an outsider, one of the small handful of kids who did not go to Seven Hills elementary schools. Things were awful for another two years. Then, midway through eighth grade, people I didn’t even know began to laugh when I made jokes. That was probably the single most important revelation in my life: people didn’t really dislike me, I discovered, they just didn’t know me. I began to gain confidence that I had not had since I was eight years old. I could see that my classmates liked me, and I entered a new group of friends that I am still proud to call my friends today.
Looking back on my childhood, I realize how long I spent in isolation and boredom, and I find myself wondering if I would change my past if I could. While I certainly do not relish what I remember as a lonely childhood, my answer would be an emphatic NO! I could not imagine myself being happier than with how things turned out. I can conceive of no other group of friends that could replace the people I have come to love and trust. I am sure that if I had continued in public school and in my old grade, on paper my academic performance might appear much more impressive, and my middle school social life would have been more rewarding. If I were a high school junior right now in the Sycamore Public School district, I do not doubt that I could have a substantially higher GPA. However, I would not give any GPA for the things I have learned and teachers I have had in the Seven Hills School as a member of the Class of 2005.