College Essay, Your Voice? College essays are supposed to represent the applicant's personality; as their paper doppelgänger, if anything should "center" the student voice, that's it. Personal essay teachers are tasked with "preserving" student voice. As your guide, my style should be invisible behind yours. No ventriloquism here. But sometimes, easier said than done. And the issue is not just aesthetic, but moral. 826NYC & Voice Justice This week I attended the interactive workshop "Justice & Equity Dialogues: Centering Student Voice" 826NYC, an organization I've had a crush on for some time. They host their writing magic in a "secret library" behind a superhero supply storefront (I mean, you checked their site, right?). So, enough said. Their workspace has warm wood tables, exposed brick, and two clocks, for "Brooklyn Time" and "Manhattan Time." The latter is an hour ahead of the former because, well, you people in Manhattan rush a tad too much. Their library, airy and light, is filled with self-published student work side by side with destined to be classics like, ahem, that new ballsy Bunny Book by John Oliver. Language Unicorn The facilitator, Rebecca Darugar, 826NYC's Director of Education, began the workshop by asking us to draw a unicorn together in our small groups on chart paper with markers, no further instructions. There was no model unicorn for us to study. And yet, when we compared the four drawings, they all had...what? You guessed it: a prominent horn, a more-or-less horse's physique, a mane (but a rainbow mane, m'kay?). Darugar pointed out: See? A unicorn doesn't exist. But still, we all follow these rules, which we've created and agreed upon at some point, that the unicorn looks a certain way. And only that way. No one's unicorn had a giraffe's body, none a lizard's. An imaginary beast, it nonetheless cohered to a relatively limited set of features. And (the main point of the workshop) language is just like that: language is an Continue Reading …
Grammar
My college essay got me what?
My college essay got me in....to this It's 8AM on a Wednesday. I am 19 years old, drinking my 14th cup of weak college cafeteria coffee, staring at an ancient Greek verb. Eistha. I'm supposed to know something about this. I have clocked in exactly three hours of sleep. I know about as much as you do, reading this, right now. The verb stares back at me, equally uninformed. My life looked like this chart. My professor, Alan Boegehold (who died this week, 17 years later) is looking out at the two of us expectantly-- because, you got that right, there are only two of us in that class--, a map of Sparta under his thumb. The map is fuzzed at the edges, to appear antique. This is the battle that would change everything. If that everything means anything to you, now, thousands of years out. (But for you battle nerds, this.) Boegehold is recapping for us where all the warships are, waiting to attack a certain strait. He's so into the heated stakes, a scholar's video game. At this moment, the minor things matter the most-- is the verb in the future? Is the ship pointed a hair to the right? I'm wishing I had bought a Starbucks.The kind as black as night should be if you don't live in Brooklyn and if there is no moon. My college essay is to blame To get here-- this school, this class, this major-- I wrote a very very very (apparently) convincing personal essay for my college application essay-- BY HAND. That's right, by hand. In hand-writing. It was about a junior-year school trip to Spain, where I stayed with a family in Barcelona. On the first day there, I confused two nouns-- mariscos (seafood) and maridos (spouses, husbands)-- and so informed my host mother that I don't eat a lot of things, but I do eat maridos. Meaning, husbands. Instead of mariscos, meaning seafood. The car went silent. I have no idea how I concluded the essay, what lesson or trait my personal essay took pains to show. Maybe the importance of detail, the weight of a Continue Reading …
Say what you mean & mean what you say
Ever read something so convoluted that you can't even get the gist of what the writer is trying to say-- never mind the point of their words? The destination for a personal essay like that in the hands of an admissions team is... the recycle bin or garbage-- whichever is closer. I see this a lot in college essays, where students are so convinced their admissions audience needs them to sound a certain way-- over-educated, with a bloated vocabulary and complex syntax-- that they don't think about how their audience actually prefers them to be: natural, relaxed, and forthright. A telltale (but not the only) sign that you are reading or writing a convoluted, pretentious (yep!) essay is when a deluge of SAT words adroitly manifests in the plethora of language the text pitches aberrantly at the reader's perusal. If you know what I mean. No, forget that. We all know that writing is always "prepared" speech. It is not simply spontaneous expression, as the squeals of someone opening the front door to win a Publishers Clearing House check the size of Clifford the Dog (does that actually happen to anyone?). But still, there is a range worth respecting: I can write more or less like I speak, when I am actually paying attention to my words and thoughts. OR I can write like a rambling drunk person (that's not the kind of natural we mean, either). OR I can write so that even I find the text indecipherable. That last option does not make me sound smarter, nor like the kind of person you'd want to hang out with. There is a simple solution to overwriting your college essay that works wonders. Ask yourself (or your student), "What are you really saying?" If you don't know, then neither does your reader, nor will the reader ever. It is not the reader's job to untangle the writer's messes meant to impress. But if you know, and can say earnestly, "I'm trying to talk about how bad it felt to fail the declamation contest when I was assumed to be champion," the just Continue Reading …
Grammar As Game-Changer
Risky Statements Supposedly, Martin Luther King Jr. began his “Letter from Birmingham Jail” on bits of toilet paper—the only paper he could get in confinement. His need to express his position on peaceful protest, like the need to use the bathroom, was that urgent. This was a personal statement, impeccable in its grammar, that risked his personhood in order to stand up for non-violent resistance as a radical act of love. This mission was why he was alive, and also why he would not be alive for very long. Continue Reading …