Here is my commonapp essay. The prompt is on someone who is influential to you. The minimum word limit is 250. This essay is around 538.
Heart to Heart
I never used to regard family as important. It was not until I nearly lost my father to heart failure did I realize how significant he was to me. He is a provider. He takes care of me and my mother with what little money he earns in this unfamiliar country.
Most importantly, he dictated my dreams and aspirations.
He chose my path for me: I was to become a doctor. Anything less would be unacceptable.
I did not understand his tenacity. Could this dream of his be tradition or culture or the idea that he could hold his collar up high and tell everyone his son is a doctor? Perhaps it would mean he no longer needed to work. Regardless, my life was decided for me and I chose to do nothing to understand it. Then the day came where I may never have had the chance to understand it ever again.
I was on my way home from my first varsity soccer practice on a brisk October day to find my father limping on the street with one hand clutching his chest so tightly that his fingernails dug into his skin. The puzzled look on my face turned to horror when I saw him collapse in the middle of the street. I ran over to him but could not force myself to do anything, not even ask what was wrong. I stood there helpless as a local mailman and a neighbor rushed over. The next hour was a blur of loud ambulance sirens, speeding hospital beds, closed curtains and yelling that told me to get out of the room. I stood in the hospital corridor dumbfounded by my vulnerabilities. Perhaps this is who I really was: oblivious, compliant, and helpless.
Something about me changed that day. I remember very little about what was going on. I knew that my father had a heart attack, that an hour immediately after that he faced a stroke, that the cardiologists at the hospital told me they were going to take care of him, and that I could possibly lose him forever. I never attempted to hold a conversation with this man. I never thought of forming a close relationship with him like the ones you see in movies of the father playing catch with his son. I was merely a roommate, yet I still cared about him. I stood there with tears streaming down my face. I cried about being helpless. I cried about being weak. I cried for my dad.
To this day I carry a responsibility for my dad's life. I've studied extensively about the heart. I memorized every single book I could find about the circulatory system. I even talked to my dad's cardiologist. I got to know him very well and decided that I would work under him and become a great cardiologist like him. To this day, I continue my cardiovascular research with my mentor. I study to become a doctor just like my father told me to. But I don't do it because he told me to or because my culture and tradition dictates it. I do it because it is my passionïI do it because I want to.
How is it intense? I need constructive criticism please.
you use a lot of short sentences expand them a little bit.
I've studied extensively about the heart, and memorized every single book I could find about the circulatory system. I even talked to my dad's cardiologist.
I would suggest changing some of your sentence structures, there are a number of noun-verb sentences. overall, very good!
He is a provider. He takes care of me and my mother with what little money he earns in this unfamiliar country.
Maybe:
He is the main provider for my family, taking care of me and my mother with what little money he earns in what we consider U.S. an unfamiliar country.
You don't have to take my advice but I think you should combine some of the sentences such as what I did.
Good Luck
I agree... overall it is a good essay, but it is a little choppy. I think that by rewording some of your sentences you could combine the information.
It was not until ...----> that.
It was not until I nearly lost my father to heart failure did that I realized how significant he was to me.
I memorized every single book I could find about the circulatory system. ---If you say this, it is impressive, but it is better if you give a few examples of books you've studied.
I think the ending is especially good... But I would take out a few words:
I do it because it is my passion-I do it because I want to.
This is a great essay!
not sure if im allowed to but -- bump?
Well, here it is again, slightly re-edited, just wanted to make sure no one corrected me for the same mistake twice.
Heart to Heart
I never thought my family was important, not until I nearly lost my father to heart failure. Only then did I realize how significant he really is to me . Back then , I viewed him as a provider-diligently taking care of our family with what little money he earned. Most importantly, he was the arbiter of my dreams and aspirations. He chose my path for me: I was to become a doctor and a nything less would be unacceptable.
I did not understand his tenacity then. Was it driven by tradition or culture? Or did he want to hold his head up high and tell everyone that his son was a doctor? Perhaps it would simply mean he no longer needed to work. Regardless, my life was decided for me and I did nothing to understand why. That is until the day I realized that I was running out of time to ask.
I was on my way home from my first varsity soccer practice on a brisk October day in 2005 when I saw my father limping down the street, one hand clutched tightly onto his chest, his fingernails digging deeper and deeper into his skin. The puzzled look on my face turned to horror when I saw him gradually collapse in the middle of the street. I ran over to him and caught a glimpse of his pale, stretched face. The excruciating sound of air being desperately sucked in through clenched teeth echoed through the air. I could not force myself to do anything, not even ask what was wrong. I stood there helplessly as a mailman and a neighbor rushed over. The next hour was a blur of loud ambulance sirens, speeding stretchers, closed curtains and faint yelling that told me to get out of the room. I just stood in the hospital corridor, dumbfounded by my appalling vulnerability. Was this really who I was? Oblivious, compliant, and helpless?
I do not remember anything from the rest of the night. I only knew that my father had had a heart attack and a short hour later he survived a sudden stroke. The cardiologists at the hospital tried to reassure me that they were going to take care of him, but I knew I would most likely lose him forever. I had never attempted to hold a conversation with this man. I had never thought of forming a close relationship with him like the ones you see in movies of a game of catch between a father and his son. We were merely roommates. Yet I still cared about him enough to let my emotions steadily trickle down my face and soak my shirt. I cried about being helpless. I cried about being weak. I cried for my dad.
To this day I carry a feeling of responsibility for my dad's life. I've studied the heart extensively, and I've memorized every single book I could find about the circulatory system. I have even spoken to my dad's cardiologist and got to know him very well. I decided that I should work under him and become a great cardiologist like him. To this day, I continue my cardiovascular research with my mentor. I study to become a doctor, just like my father told me to. But now I don't do it because he told me to or because my culture and tradition dictates it. I do it because it is my passion-because I want to.
