UPenn Optional Essay - p. 217 of 300 p. Autobiography - Still I Rise

By no means am I finished, I'm not even quite sure what direction I want to go in. I'm thinking how I met with my father in hopes of learning more about myself but I realized were not that much alike at all - maybe I'm more a product of how I was raised.. and through in some good stuff about myself.. Idk yet. ANY feedback at this point would be greatly appreciated! Thanks!

You have just finished writing you 300 page autobiography, write p. 217

Still I Rise: An Autobiography 217

I was just about to lie down when the phone rang. There was a strong temptation to simply let the answering machine pick it up, but then I contemplated the possible importance of the phone call and begrudgingly got up to answer. I put the receiver to my ear. The last voice I expected to hear sounded on the other end of the line. "Elizabeth? How are you?" The thick Nigerian accent that emphasized the "E" sounds in my name, was familiar and yet remote. It was a voice I had not heard in over ten years: the voice of my father.
"Fine." I choked out.
In a calm voice, he explained that he was in town taking care of some business and he wanted to see me. My heart started pumping wildly inside my chest.
"I talked to your mother." He said. "She'll be home shortly to pick you up."
I didn't know how to reply. As he said goodbye, I stood there and listened silently until there was nothing but a dial tone.
I started mechanically removing my pajamas and putting on my jeans without much thought. I had to get ready to meet my father. A man who left when I was six years old, without so little as a postcard to compensate his absence.
When he left I was too young to fully understand the gravity of what had happened. As it was, he wasn't a fundamental part of my life to begin with. In fact, after a few years, it was almost as if he had never even been there. Growing up, the words father, dad, and daddy became as foreign to me as sixteenth century Latin. My sister asked me once if I missed not having a father, and I simply replied "You can't really miss something you never had."
At least that's how I thought I felt. But in reality, I did feel like something was missing. More substantially I felt like a part of me was missing, this whole other half that I never got a chance to know.
Thus as I fixed my hair and reapplied my makeup that evening, no feelings of anger or bitterness precipitated in me, but rather I became enthralled with curiosity.

I think you could do something more effective with the last few sentences. Actually, reflecting on your changed feelings about your father could present you in the most positive light if you explain that your feelings changed from negative to positive when you were still very young, because you learned at a young age how to see things from the perspectives of others.

That is just an idea that came to mind. And I think the last sentence could be better, more useful. I also think it will be better if you find a way to let this reflect your meaningful career a little more -- the career that has its roots in your education at upenn.

You are an excellent, excellent writer!!!!! Seriously...

Thank you so much for your reply!
I will definantly get to work on that. =)