What is a College Essay?

The seniors we asked gave these top three answers:

1. An essay about something that is impactful in my life

2. A look into my deeper self

3. Stressful and tiring

This page includes real college essays from seniors in schools throughout the Ojai Valley.

Throughout my academic career, I have always felt a love for English. Every year, it is the only class I look forward to as summer comes to an end. My love for the subject began with my love for reading, specifically the fantasy genre. I plowed through “The Land Of Stories” and tore through “The School For Good and Evil.” I always felt like a book had so much more to say than any movie, video game, or TV show. The emotions, personas, and depth of literature always astounded me and kept me turning pages for hours on end. Relatives always knew they could give me a book as a gift for Christmas or birthdays and it would actually be read. The satisfaction of adding a completed book to my bookshelf was better than any A+ in math or history.

Reading helped increase my vocabulary from a young age. I found it easier to pull ahead in writing classes and anything involving spelling. I even won my elementary school spelling bee in sixth grade with my above-average vocabulary levels. I savored assignments centered on poems and short stories as they provided my favorite creative outlet. Honors English classes led to AP classes, and I eagerly accepted the new knowledge with an open mind. My sister and I log all of our reading in an app called Goodreads where we rate our favorite books and write reviews for other readers. We also create lists of books we hope to read, and I even own a book embosser to mark all of my favorite books with “Maggie’s Library.” In college, I hope to pursue my love for English in a book club or story-writing class as a possible minor for my undergraduate path. Books will always remain close to my heart and their characters have become my acquaintances as I relate their lessons to my own life. The world inside of books has guided my love for English from Day One, and I will always be in love with the vivid world of literature.

The Captain’s heartbeat was calm and steady, even though the soft tendrils of fear had begun to creep up his throat. He knew somewhere, somehow, he had left Earth behind and was now traveling through the Beyond. Its innate loneliness licked at his feet, kept at bay by the allure of the unknown. Taking a deep breath, the Captain relit his lantern and crouched over the helm, scanning the flat stretch in front of him. How exciting, the Captain thought, and it was as if someone had heard his thoughts, for suddenly an even more bewildering phenomenon occurred. His motion ceased, and the Captain felt a strange, weightless sensation. He was floating now, and he squinted, overwhelmed by the light. This land had dimension, and it curved all around him into a dizzyingly gigantic sphere. Gaping holes and rips dotted the curved expanse, and dazzling white light shone through the openings. So this was the truth behind those starlit skies he had seen every night on Earth, the truth behind those glittering stars in the darkness above. He knew what he had to do. Filled with an eerie tranquility, the Captain began to haul in his sails and tighten his ropes. He adjusted his cap, patted his ship’s weathered helm lovingly, and turned o his lanterns. With his fishing knife in one hand and the helm in the other, he jerked his ship toward the blinding lights and braced himself for impact.

I was born into a paternalistic Northern Vietnamese family, which strongly emphasizes the importance of having a son. Besides the primary reason for continuing the family lineage, I was taught about the strict expectations placed upon me as I learn to become the head of the family. However, there are also numerous things that are forbidden as a result of this familial pressure. For example, I am not allowed to prepare any food within my family home.

That said, I have always fantasized about being a top chef, and when leaving Vietnam for boarding school in the U.S., there was a kitchen that was not olimits to me. As I recognized this unique opportunity to expand my culinary knowledge and explore without restraint, I decided to cook for myself. I spent the weekends practicing my skills from a traditional Vietnamese cookbook. Through numerous blunders, I learned the basics. Eventually, I sought opportunities to learn from others in my community. I approached a fellow student known for his culinary prowess and asked him to take me on as an apprentice. We made a dynamic duo and were even o ered an opportunity to attend a food festival and represent the Vietnamese community on campus. When my partner graduated, I continued to explore my culinary capabilities, which had become my passion. I wanted to test whether or not I could diversify Vietnamese dishes with international cuisine. For example, I have fused traditional dishes with soul food and flavors of Cajun cooking. I have elevated classic American dishes with spices from India, China, Vietnam, and the Philippines. Most importantly, my twists on cuisine have garnered praise and excitement from my friends. I have learned how to use food as a means to connect with other individuals in my life. Cooking has allowed me to experiment, try new things, and connect with others in ways that I could not back in Vietnam, and I plan to continue surprising others with my creations and fostering this talent even further.

As I became further distanced from the self-confidence and passion of my youth, my mom made the bold move of signing me up for the local youth choir. On the first day, I was slow to exit the car.

As I slunk into the music room, I kept my head down and pulled my bill cap over my eyes, thus, ironically, attracting even more attention. I was flushed, and my shirt felt sticky against my skin. As the other kids encroached to introduce themselves, I tentatively o ered my name. When it was my turn to sing a solo to determine my natural key, I shakily followed the conductor down the bell-like tones of the piano, praying my voice wouldn’t crack. Yet, as I descended down the scale, I felt relief wash over me. The feeling of fear that had churned in my stomach fell away, and I stood there bathed in something new.

Soon, my evenings were consumed by my passion for singing. I worked with a singing coach, and dove into the world of musicals, landing several leads. Through these activities, I woke to the realization that putting myself in strong, exposed positions brought me closer to the outgoing, confident boy I’d once been. Those who heard me sing recognized my internal strengths rather than my outward appearance, and it was so empowering. Whatever worries I had dissolved on stage. And while my social anxiety still loomed over me throughout high school, singing helped me cope. Although so much of my love for singing was about my own personal growth, I realized I wanted to be part of something larger than myself.

Now, if 8-year-old me met current me, I think he’d recognize himself. I’ve learned that the only way to transcend di culties is to walk toward them, with no expectation of the outcome. Singing taught me that I’m not defined by my fears, that the measure of one’s character lies in their advocacy for others.

Has life ever thrown a curveball at you before you knew how much it would a ect your future? Well, for me, that happened 17 years ago. At the age of 30, my father was in a terrible car accident, which caused him to lose all ability to walk. My mother became his fulltime caregiver and a stay-at-home mom. Me, you ask? I was 2 months old. I spent the first months of my life in and out of the hospital as my family spent time with my dad as he navigated his recovery.

Throughout my lifetime, my father’s accident has impacted me the most emotionally. Most kids get the chance to have their father drop o or pick them up from school, take them fishing, play tag, or wrestle. Not me. I never got to experience my father chasing me and picking me up. But I am beyond grateful to still have my father here with me today. I may not have gotten those experiences, but I got a lot of di erent opportunities. Although I haven’t experienced those moments, my father and I enjoy building things together. During the COVID pandemic, when we were on lockdown, my father helped me build a two-story chicken coop. When he and I build anything, I am his hands. We have adapted to work together as he explains while I attempt to follow his instructions.

My father’s accident has shaped me into the person I am today because he has taught me never to give up. Growing up and watching my dad relearn day-to-day things that most people take for granted provided me with a full view of what it really means to fight for what you want. Before my father was in his accident, he was always a hardworking man. This has never changed. My dad’s hard work now goes into successfully teaching his nieces and nephews how to drive the tractor, feed the cattle, and everything in between. All of my friends who come over are taught how to drive a tractor, pull a trailer with a truck and the maintenance required to keep everything working properly. As I’ve grown up and witnessed how hard my family works to always give me and my brother the best opportunities, my father has bestowed upon me the best gift a parent can: the attitude of “work hard, play harder.” This simple yet e ective quote is something that I strive to live by. This has made me the hard worker that I am today.

During my first semester of ninth grade, I struggled to find my community. This was until I joined the Asian-American Club where the members had similar experiences to mine and were a refreshing sight on a campus that is not known for its diversity. I thoroughly enjoyed my time participating in club events, such as traditional holiday celebrations and cultural education fairs across campus. However, the future of the club soon became murky when the board members began resigning as they graduated, and it was soon announced that the club would be disbanding.

I decided that I could not be a bystander and watch the community that had enriched my life fade. I created a proposal to elect new board members immediately in order to keep the Asian-American Club running. I was elected vice president and began reconfiguring the organization.

After elections, the club turned its focus to first-year students who are lost or seeking community during their first semester. To increase our club’s presence across campus, I researched and created weekly cultural showcases that presented unique foods, cultural traditions, music, and language to the entire campus. I also bolstered our club’s email and campus-event outreach in order to increase the organization’s student body.

Finally, I set up measures, such as board member elections every semester, to prevent the same risk of closure that the club had faced when I joined.

As people became increasingly interested, the number of events and members continued to grow. Over the span of 10 months, we quintupled our club’s student population while also maintaining our reputation as a highly inclusive organization. Anyone who identifies as Asian or AsianAmerican is welcome to join and share their cultural perspectives, which continues to enrich our organization and drive its mission. The success of the Asian-American Club proved to me that others find deep connection through our community, and it is still important to me that the club continues with that same goal in mind. Everyone in our community should feel at home, just like how I felt when I first became a member.