<p>Here is an essay that I wrote in English class that I am considering using for the prompt, “Discuss an event, formal or informal, that marked your transition from childhood to adulthood within your culture, community, or family.” :</p>
<p>A Child’s Heart
There’s a first time for everything, and many people’s firsts can be life-changing. I remember the first time I could ride a bike without training wheels. I rode around that afternoon for hours, with my back straight and my head held high, demanding to be recognized for my newly acquired skill. As a child, every experience was new. Around every corner lay something yet to be seen, felt, or heard, but rarely understood. Undoubtedly, the harshest truth about these new experiences is that not all of them were positive. Some experiences brought me face to face with the ugly realities of life, and I remember distinctly how unprepared I was.
The day that I went to my first Cincinnati Red’s game was also the day I saw a homeless person for the first time. Although there were many destitute persons in downtown Cincinnati that evening, I only clearly remember one. In particular, I remember the dull, floral-printed cotton dress hanging over her pregnant belly and rippling in the wind from the river as she slumped against the railing of the bridge. A sea of baseball fans elbowed their way past each other, racing to their expensive, well-shaded seats behind home plate and failing to notice her as I did. Consequently, I experienced another first. In that moment, I became acutely aware for the first time in my short life of how privileged I was. This kind of self-awareness was a new perspective that I was not ready for at eight years old, but I suppose life doesn’t wait for a convenient time to cut down a child’s innocence and fill the holes with brutal reality. The memory of that moment arouses an indescribably pungent guilt for my relative affluence. Even more potent, however, is the memory of my parents’ reactions to the situation I so desperately desired to assuage. They simply looked dead ahead as they walked, not making eye contact with any of the people sitting on the sidewalk edge. I didn’t understand this reaction because they were all I could look at. In retrospect, it could have only been because I was short and they were almost at eye level, but my heart tells me that the reason is a bit more complex.
Recently, I was waiting in a line of cars getting off the highway and saw a homeless man holding a cardboard sign and standing where the exit ramp met the conjoining road. I remember how his eyes bore into me, and I didn’t even look at him long enough to read the sign he held. I felt that pure, childlike guilt all over again. This time was not for my good fortune, but because I was no longer a helpless child, and still I stared straight ahead at the stop light. At the time, it seemed easier to harden my heart than go out of my way for another person in need. I suddenly understood my parents’ lack of eye contact with the homeless the evening of the Red’s game, but understanding did not cause me to justify their callousness nor my own. Rather, that understanding made me wonder about the weathering of the childlike impulse to help those in need. It made me hope that the day never comes when my heart is so hardened that I feel nothing for a destitute stranger.
If children owned all of the wealth in the world, I believe they would share it with everyone. It’s not the human impulse that causes selfishness, but rather the societal construction of what is “ours.” I hope I never forget that what is mine was granted to me by chance and that the tables could turn at any moment. For as long as they’re turned in my favor, I pray that I will give way to the child in me. </p>
<p>My primary concerns are:
Does or could the part where I mention “my relative affluence” make me seem spoiled or privileged to a college admissions officer?
Does or could the essay seem to have an overall air of pretentiousness?
Does the essay pertain to the prompt? (I feel it is a little abstract of an interpretation of the prompt, but maybe that’s a good thing?)
I am also concerned that while the essay provides an accurate picture of my skills as a writer, which are of paramount importance to a successful college career, that it may not say enough about me as a person. Just from reading this essay, what do you learn about me as a person and how does that affect your opinion and judgement of my character and personality?</p>
<p>Thank you in advance to anyone who replies to this post and critiques my essay. You need not write an essay in response. Any and all opinions are welcome!!! Thanks again!!</p>