These are always very interesting to read and see the constructive criticism in the comments. I’ve already applied with this essay, so now I just want to see what y’all think for fun.
Just some background about me: I’m an Indian female from Arizona. My parents are immigrants but went to Graduate school in America (ASU and UofPhoenix). I’ve gotten into Arizona State University, University of Arizona, George Washington University, and most likely Northwestern for Class of 2023. Not really into how stressful and ruinous college apps can make seniors-- so went with a couple of out-of-state high tier schools (got rejected from almost all of them) because I’m really happy with Barrett, the Honors Program at ASU. Truthfully, I screwed up on a lot of early application essays and procrastinated. I’ve come to terms with it and won’t be doing that for med school. Just wanted some feedback for later and my entertainment.
Not sure if the essay is cliche or just boring, but wanted to get others’ opinions of it 
Here’s my personal statement:
Out of One Quarter
My mother placed a plastic jar, deformed from the bulk of alloy-plated American coins, in front of her eager, seven year-old daughter. Every few months, after grocery trips and loose change between car seats, it was Rolling Day. My mother and I organized the metal coins into cardboard rolls for the bank. In addition, we began a new project: collecting state quarters, two of each to complete a collector’s book.
In my passionate, Indian-migrant mother’s eyes, our hobby was about the process, not the result; the time spent together, the American pride cultivated from learning about each state, her assimilation as an American citizen, it was a gradual activity.
My motivation was to foolishly complete the collection hastily, disregarding my mother’s endearing reasoning.
No other child was as melodramatic about finding another simple eagle-marked quarter than I. From the moment I could feel the hallmark of a state animal or flower on a quarter, I was euphoric adding the state’s coin into its designated position. Each states’ identities carved into the inch-wide, metal canvases stared back as I opened the book. How were the sculptors able to manifest the character of thousands of Americans into one drawing? To that end, what would my own personal coin display?
In my question of identity, my American and Indian heritages conflicted. Since I was not ingrained in either culture, I became an outsider to both. I could not speak Gujarati with my Indian cousins. I was alienated from my white classmates, sometimes because of my aromatic Indian boxed lunches and sometimes because of my skin color. Instead of Christmas and Thanksgiving dinners, I celebrated Diwali poojas, yet I could not understand the pertinence of Jainism and its religious allegories in my life.
On another Rolling Day, I instead chose to focus on the front of the quarters: George Washington’s composed expression in front of me. From my mother and I’s online history research, I knew Washington faced a similar question of identity: the British colonist and soldier turned President of the United States disregarded his own wishes during his public service, until his unadorned lifestyle on Mount Vernon, with his notable cherry trees, took precedence. However, on the quarter, Washington’s gaze turned towards “Liberty”, accompanied by “In God We Trust”-- distinctly American citations.
Flipping the coin back-- a disappointing eagle etched on the coin-- I read “E pluribus unum”: out of many, one. Granted, the quote referred to the creation of our single union from many independent states, yet the meaning seemed to transcend the creation of the United States.
George Washington’s conflicted identity-- Loyalist or Patriot, public servant or private citizen-- was not the discord I perceived it to be. Rather, in promoting the people’s liberties, Washington trusted God’s destiny for himself. Thus, Washington’s legacy became a blend of the two responsibilities to America and to himself.
Similarly, my mother was satisfied with her dual citizenship from India and America, both integral parts of her evolved identity: along with our fascination of Presidential dollar coins, she collected Indian coins with Mahatma Gandhi engravings on our biennial trips to India.
Referring to “E pluribus unum”, I thought about my diverse qualities: these differences created a unique individual, sporting my own blend of traditions. In an attempt to blend into American culture, I abandoned what enriched my own melting pot of characteristics. Once I accepted my duplexity as an advantage rather than detriment, my confidence as a valued influence in society enhanced my individual perspective. I can unabashedly learn Kathak Classical Dance and socialize with my religious youth group while in American society. I can proudly eat samosas during the Superbowl and decorate our Christmas tree with dupattas. These distinct customs create my coin’s design.
E pluribus, unum. Quite literally, out of many quarters, one dollar; out of many coins, one lifelong hobby; and out of many qualities, one identity.