Personal statement #1
What would you say is your greatest talent or skill? How have you developed and demonstrated that talent over time?
Every Saturday would be a good day, until my dance teacher would sneak in little comments about me. She would compare me to professional ballet dancers. She could go on for hours about how tall and skinny they are. As time passed by, I started to realize that I wasn’t skinny, nor tall. I also started to realize how she would always look at me when talking about a ballerinas physique. I wasn’t sure she was trying to hint something at me, I thought maybe she was, but I wasn’t completely sure. Not until one day she grabbed my and pulled me in front of my other dance partners. “A ballerina should be at least 5’6’’, and you are?”, she asked me. “I’m 4’9’’...” I responded, self conscious and scared of what was next. She looked at me, then at them with a raised eyebrow. “A ballerina needs a long neck, long legs, long torso, a flat chest, and back.” She said all of that while pointing at me, and basically telling everyone my physique was the opposite of a ballerina.
Saturdays weren’t what I looked forward to anymore. I dreaded them. I loved ballet, but I wasn’t sure I loved myself anymore. Every time I went into class, I had to fake a smile at everyone. In the end that’s what ballerinas do. We stand on our toes, making sure our chest is flat, our legs are completely straight, and trying to pretend we’re “perfect” while everything is the total opposite. No matter how much your body aches, you have to smile and seem delicate. So that’s what I did, for a little over a year. Everything hurt, this time it wasn’t just my body, it was also what was inside.
Ballet was my happiness. It was taken away from me, and ripped right in front of my eyes by the person I trusted would share the same passions and dreams with me. After almost two years, I couldn’t fake being happy and perfect all the time. Ballet was my passion, now it is something I can’t stand.
Personal Statement #2
Think about an academic subject that inspires you. Describe how you have furthered this interest inside and/or outside of the classroom.
I have always loved writing. My mom says I get it from my dad, and I can see why she says that, but sometimes I wish I didn’t get it from him. I wish I got it from her, the person that has supported me and my brothers for more than ten years. I did not want to get my love and passion for writing from him. He who I don’t remember. He who is just a face I recognize in a few pictures. This has stopped me from doing many writing assignments in school. I struggled so much with writing just because of him.
Everything changed when Junior year started. I started the year off really closed off, not wanting to open up to anyone. This all changed when we were assigned to write a short “Who I Am” poem. When the teacher was talking about it in class, I felt horrible. I knew I was already off to a bad start. Even though it had to be short, I just wasn’t emotionally ready for it.
Once I got home, I did all of my homework except the poem. I was sitting on my desk using my phone, pretending the paper wasn’t there. It wasn’t really that I couldn’t do it, it was just that I didn’t want to. Writing poems made me think of him, and I hated that. I did not want to think of him.
After a while of pretending the paper was not there, I grabbed it and just started to write and write. My pen would not stop moving and even though my heart was hurting, I did not stop. I kept going and going until I was finished. It was short, but the feeling it gave me was amazing. I had overcome something I struggled with over five years. It felt like there was a weight off my shoulders. As I rushed to turn it in online, I knew Junior year was going to be my best year.
What would you say is your greatest talent or skill? How have you developed and demonstrated that talent over time?
Every Saturday would be a good day, until my dance teacher would sneak in little comments about me. She would compare me to professional ballet dancers. She could go on for hours about how tall and skinny they are. As time passed by, I started to realize that I wasn’t skinny, nor tall. I also started to realize how she would always look at me when talking about a ballerinas physique. I wasn’t sure she was trying to hint something at me, I thought maybe she was, but I wasn’t completely sure. Not until one day she grabbed my and pulled me in front of my other dance partners. “A ballerina should be at least 5’6’’, and you are?”, she asked me. “I’m 4’9’’...” I responded, self conscious and scared of what was next. She looked at me, then at them with a raised eyebrow. “A ballerina needs a long neck, long legs, long torso, a flat chest, and back.” She said all of that while pointing at me, and basically telling everyone my physique was the opposite of a ballerina.
Saturdays weren’t what I looked forward to anymore. I dreaded them. I loved ballet, but I wasn’t sure I loved myself anymore. Every time I went into class, I had to fake a smile at everyone. In the end that’s what ballerinas do. We stand on our toes, making sure our chest is flat, our legs are completely straight, and trying to pretend we’re “perfect” while everything is the total opposite. No matter how much your body aches, you have to smile and seem delicate. So that’s what I did, for a little over a year. Everything hurt, this time it wasn’t just my body, it was also what was inside.
Ballet was my happiness. It was taken away from me, and ripped right in front of my eyes by the person I trusted would share the same passions and dreams with me. After almost two years, I couldn’t fake being happy and perfect all the time. Ballet was my passion, now it is something I can’t stand.
Personal Statement #2
Think about an academic subject that inspires you. Describe how you have furthered this interest inside and/or outside of the classroom.
I have always loved writing. My mom says I get it from my dad, and I can see why she says that, but sometimes I wish I didn’t get it from him. I wish I got it from her, the person that has supported me and my brothers for more than ten years. I did not want to get my love and passion for writing from him. He who I don’t remember. He who is just a face I recognize in a few pictures. This has stopped me from doing many writing assignments in school. I struggled so much with writing just because of him.
Everything changed when Junior year started. I started the year off really closed off, not wanting to open up to anyone. This all changed when we were assigned to write a short “Who I Am” poem. When the teacher was talking about it in class, I felt horrible. I knew I was already off to a bad start. Even though it had to be short, I just wasn’t emotionally ready for it.
Once I got home, I did all of my homework except the poem. I was sitting on my desk using my phone, pretending the paper wasn’t there. It wasn’t really that I couldn’t do it, it was just that I didn’t want to. Writing poems made me think of him, and I hated that. I did not want to think of him.
After a while of pretending the paper was not there, I grabbed it and just started to write and write. My pen would not stop moving and even though my heart was hurting, I did not stop. I kept going and going until I was finished. It was short, but the feeling it gave me was amazing. I had overcome something I struggled with over five years. It felt like there was a weight off my shoulders. As I rushed to turn it in online, I knew Junior year was going to be my best year.