Wait a second!
More handpicked essays just for you.
More handpicked essays just for you.
The power of perseverance essay
Persistence is the key to success
The power of perseverance essay
Don’t take our word for it - see why 10 million students trust us with their essay needs.
Recommended: The power of perseverance essay
Barnebey Letter of Recommendation
Persistent/Determined:
The end of my sophomore year, I had spent a lot of time reflecting on the classes that I wished to take going into Junior year. My options were limited: IB Math Studies or AP Calculus. I have always been an advocate for free choice and independence when it comes to your education and although I valued the importance of math, I knew that I didn’t fit in with the rest of the AP Calculus students. So, I signed up for IB Math Studies with the notion that I could improve my math skills in the areas that I was struggling in. However, the math department didn’t understand my reasoning. They believed that I needed to follow the path with the rest of the students into AP Calculus. And that was what bothered
…show more content…
I’ve spent a majority of my high school working as a babysitter to make extra money. However, there aren’t a lot of days besides Saturday and Friday nights that parents need babysitters. So I decided that I should apply for a job-a real job. I thought that applying for jobs would be easy, but I was really, really, really wrong. After walking from store to store around Fashion Island, I ended up with about three job applications and I wasn’t convinced that they were even looking to hire. But, I spent the day filling out the applications and the next week sitting by my phone waiting for a call from them. I finally got hired at Muttropolis, a retail store for pets, and was thrown into something I wasn’t familiar with. I learned all about how to be professional, how to give good customer service and how to work the cash register. Frankly, I sucked at all of it. The first week there, I was convinced that I was going to get fired for not putting the collars in the right order, or for not giving back the right amount of change. But, I stayed hopeful and open-minded that I would find my groove. Through dedication and time, I found it and began to fit right in with the people who had been working there for
She stands a staggering 5 feet 2 inches tall, weighs a massive 95 pounds, and has short, brown hair and brown eyes. I see my older sister Leslie. Others see a model of perfection. Don't get me wrong, my sister and I are close and have been inseparable since birth. My mother has kept pictures of us ranging from the time we shared a playpen as babies to just recently at Leslie's graduation. For seventeen years, we've shared every life experience imaginable, and we've dealt with the trials and tribulations that come with growing up. But in September, she left home to attend the University of California at Irvine, leaving me to face life alone. However, it gave me the opportunity to live life by myself as Ryan, instead of Leslie's little brother.
Sweat dripping down my face and butterflies fluttering around my stomach as if it was the Garden of Eden, I took in a deep breathe and asked myself: "Why am I so nervous? After all, it is just the most exciting day of my life." When the judges announced for the Parsippany Hills High School Marching Band to commence its show, my mind blanked out and I was on the verge of losing sanity. Giant's Stadium engulfed me, and as I pointed my instrument up to the judges' stand, I gathered my thoughts and placed my mouth into the ice-cold mouthpiece of the contrabass. "Ready or not," I beamed, "here comes the best show you will ever behold." There is no word to describe the feeling I obtain through music. However, there is no word to describe the pain I suffer through in order to be the best in the band either. When I switched my instrument to tuba from flute in seventh grade, little did I know the difference it would make in the four years of high school I was soon to experience. I joined marching band in ninth grade as my ongoing love for music waxed. When my instructor placed the 30 lb. sousaphone on my shoulder on the first day, I lost my balance and would have fallen had my friends not made the effort to catch me. During practices, I always attempted to ease the discomfort as the sousaphone cut through my collar bone, but eventually my shoulder started to agonize and bleed under the pressure. My endurance and my effort to play the best show without complaining about the weight paid off when I received the award for "Rookie of the Year." For the next three seasons of band practice, the ache and toil continued. Whenever the band had practice, followed by a football game and then a competition, my brain would blur from fatigue and my body would scream in agony. Nevertheless, I pointed my toes high in the air as I marched on, passionate about the activity. As a result, my band instructor saw my drive toward music and I was named Quartermaster for my junior year, being trusted with organizing, distributing, and collecting uniforms for all seventy-five members of the band. The responsibility was tremendous. It took a bulk of my time, but the sentiment of knowing that I was an important part of band made it all worthwhile.
Because as long as I live, I aim to find my purpose, my voice, which I find most during my times of advocacy.
Writing a self-reflective tirade is perhaps one of the most difficult tasks to perform. I have found myself pondering this topic for an unusually long time; no one has ever asked me to write about my culture-- the one thing about myself which I understand the least. This question which is so easy for others to answer often leads me into a series of convoluted explanations, "I was born in the U.S., but lived in Pakistan since I was six. My brothers moved to the US when I was thirteen" I am now nearly twenty, which means I have spent half my life being Pakistani, the other half trying to be American, or is the other way around?
In the beginning of 2012, I lost my job and have been searching for a job for several months. At that time I was very stressed because I could not find anything that was suitable for me. One weekend, I decided to go to the shopping mall for some window shopping because i...
By unlocking the door to (name) past, one sees his thoughts and actions when they first took hold of his persona. This essay serves as a key to that door and to my current personality.
When I wake up to the ear-splitting sound of my alarm clock, and blindly search for the snooze button, a sudden thought dawns: "What am I doing?"
I didn’t want people to look at me and think that I have a disadvantage; I wanted to become the best at what I was worst. I started out by taking all honors classes sophomore year. I did well in all my classes except for English. I was hesitant to take honors again junior year, but I did it anyway. To my surprise I did extremely well, considering junior year was supposed to be the hardest year. I made A’s in all my classes except for a B in, of course, English. After seeing how well I did last year, I wanted more, I wanted to be better, I want the A’s, especially in English. Senior year I decided to take two AP classes, which include English and the rest honors. So far it has been a little bit of a challenging class, but I know that I will
College Admissions: What motivates you to seek a college education Why is Berea College a good choice for you
It is an interesting occurrence when something so entirely small can change your viewpoint. I haven't had many of these events happen to me, but when they did, it was illuminating. The term for these kind of incidents is called the "Butterfly Effect." Generally, the definition is captured in an example. It describes when a butterfly moves its delicate wings, it can cause a tsunami somewhere else. Many people disagree with this ideal; however, I tend to think of it in a more metaphorical way. To me, it means that even the most nominal events can cause the largest changes. I experienced one of those incidents a few years ago on the online writing platform of Wattpad, which changed the entire way I thought about myself.
In High School, college seemed to be the scariest thing that I could think of. Whenever I thought about it my stomach would immediately begin to spin in circles. Although I was ready to go off and be by myself and meet new people I was scared to death at the same time. I didn't know much about the "college experience" and what I did know (or thought I knew) scared me. I pictured hard classes that I wouldn't be able to keep up with, people that wouldn't like me, long hikes to get to my classes, and horrible food. I couldn't imagine leaving the security of my own room, my own stuff where I want it, my friends that I've spent practically my whole life with, my family who put up with all my little quirks, and my car!! What was I going to do without my precious car? Some of my friends that had already been to college and had come back to visit seemed so much older and more mature. I felt twelve years old in comparison. I thought that I would never be able to fit in. Everyone else that I talked to didn't however seem to have this problem. They all were thrilled at the thought of being on their own and not having to worry about their parents telling them what to do all the time. And sure, the thought was extremely exciting to me as well, but how would I survive without my family and friends and the things that had taken me eighteen years to get used to. I felt like going to college was pretty much taking everything that I knew and had grown accustomed to and throwing it up in the air. The worst part about it all was that I felt like I was the only one that actually thought about this. I felt so immature and childish for actually being scared to come to college. After I thought I wouldn't be able to take the pressures anymore, I decided to approach my mom about the subject. I told her that I was a little scared and the thought of being on my own made me a little uneasy.
As far back as I could remember, I was always in a rush to grow up and be responsible. I was about thirteen when I realized I wanted a job, so I could have my own money. I’d even fill out applications online, lying about my age but it never worked. A few birthdays went by and I was celebrating my sixteenth birthday and a few weeks later; I received my first retail job. My very first job was at a popular teen store called Aeropostale. I learned and experienced a lot working there and made friends as well. Although, I got what I desired, I often had uncertainties once I really got the feel for the part-time position. In life, people leave and things change and by the end of my employment, I would soon look back and realize it.
The crucial importance and relevance of economics related disciplines to the modern world have led me to want to pursue the study of these social sciences at a higher level. My study of Economics has shown me the fundamental part it plays in our lives and I would like to approach it with an open mind - interested but not yet fully informed.
College Admissions: The Outreach Program. The Panuluyan was a real eye-opener for me. It made me become aware of the things, which I normally take for granted. It was so surprising to see how little they have, yet at the same time they cherish each little blessing they receive and they never cease to be grateful for what is given to them.
I figured AP classes would be too common for any advanced student, and IB was a new thing for San Jacinto High School, so why not give it a try. The IB diploma programme was a two year process, my junior and senior year. Towards the end of the first semester of my senior year, my family and I had to move due to my father’s job. I moved to Indio, CA about an hour from San Jacinto, CA. I knew about the move ever since the summer, so since then I got in contact with the IB coordinator from La Quinta High School. She told me that, of course I could take IB courses, however, I would not be able to receive either a certificate or a diploma. I was at La Quinta for a week, until I realized that I had thrown away a stressful year of IB. I convinced my parents that I had to return to San Jacinto so I could finish what I had started. This impacted my grades to decrease, and I had to make up all the work I missed on. My family first decided we would commute everyday, however, it soon got quite difficult for all of us. I then decided to move to Moreno Valley with my grandparents, where I could drive myself to school. This was a great idea for all of us, simply because the moved caused things to be different at home. My parents were speaking of a divorce, and I couldn’t handle being there any longer. I plan on becoming very successful because I have two younger siblings, and it's my job to help them. If