Writing in a Winter Wonderland

At the end of every year, the greater western world begins to slow. Politics takes a pause. Snow begins layering across the once-green fields. While Mother Nature covers herself in harsh storms of ice, you can’t help but appreciate those brief moments of simplicity: hot chocolate by a fireplace; or sledding down glistening snow tops; or helping the rest of your community stay warm, fed, and in good company. A calm begins to envelope the stresses of the past year; everyone knows that a fresh start is soon to arrive. Suddenly, our worlds shrink just slightly smaller as joy that radiates from home to home, warming the spirits of families reunited in celebration. 

The holiday season has the opportunity to work wonders on a great many individuals, homes, and communities. But for a small minority of students, Winter break is a dreaded occasion filled with countless essay revisions. I’ve always found it quite amusing that the holiday season aligns so well with college application season.

I ended 2022 typing away, preparing over 45 essays for my initial round of college applications. I ended 2023 doing the same yet again, readying myself for the transfer application process. It’s almost amusing at this point, but this winter will be my third spent working on college applications. Despite a successful transfer season last year, my decision to take a gap year has once more left me stranded in the Common Application yet again. So, instead of sledding down local hills or relaxing by a well-lit fire, I’ll be clacking on my keyboard well into the New Year. Applying to college has transcended from a one-time process into a holiday tradition.

Putting Yourself on a Page

With my sheer amount of experience in writing college essays, you would think I’d be better at it. Yet, while my writing has improved exponentially I remain indefinitely bound by the simple fact that it’s difficult to translate life experience into a script. Describing yourself is not an easy feat, especially when you don’t even know who you are. That brings me to my biggest qualm (among many) with the college application process: humans are 3-dimensional; fitting them into a 2D page means that only select angles can be described at any given moment. The challenge becomes creating a multifaceted application while cherry-picking your identity. 

It’s been snowing throughout the Denver slopes, limiting my outside contact and keeping me begrudgingly at home. This has, however, given me time to ponder on my own identity. Am I a pre-medicine student? Am I interested in the political sciences? A mix of both? Perhaps my real calling is in movie-making or chess, who knows. My past applications tend to scream indecisive; in trying to establish a well-rounded identity I’ve made myself into a bumbling yes-man. I’m now left with the ethical ponder on if it’d be more accurate to tell my application readers that I love everything, which is more truthful but sounds unrealistic in a world where specificity is key, or I just cherry-pick what is important and what isn’t.

For many students, there is a legitimate worry that either A. they’re not good enough for _____________ school or B. they are good enough, but couldn’t seem to accurately depict it in 500 words or less. In the Common Application for Transfer, you are allotted an infinite number of spaces to place activities, extracurriculars, research, and family responsibilities. Then, if you’re as conscious of yourself and your relation to the application as I am, you begin to worry. Is this amount of information enough? Is this information too much? Will I bore them with too many activities? Or will they think I haven’t done enough if I don’t list _________? College applications, for the kids who struggle to define themselves, becomes a manifestation of self doubt where you pick at every tiny scab and mole in both your writing and your lifestyle. It’s easy to overthink and stress about every allotted word.

Snowfall is Indiscriminate

I care very deeply about the college application process. Perhaps too much. As I go about writing my third set of college application essays, I’m once more bound by word counts and text boxes, trying to choose what deserves mention. It’s a delicate balance of showing who you are, but only what you think they would like to know. Simultaneously, it’s describing yourself as the best version of you, but also not too perfect to which you seem braggy, or worse a liar. College has filled my mind for far too long now, and I’ve spent too many winter seasons clacking letters across a Google Document instead of calling friends on Discord.

I say again: it’s easy to overthink and stress about every allotted word. As I write, snow lines the streets outside indiscriminately. Whether you’re in Denver or Durham, Providence or Pittsburgh, snow falls all the same: white, fluffy, and annoying on the roads. It’s a calm reminder that the calculus taught at Harvard is the same as that taught at my local high school. For most, worrying about something as fickle as college remains a momentary speck of time, a small fraction of what makes a life whole. Manifesting a life into a college application is far easier in the long-run than manifesting a college application into a life, and even that isn’t something to stress over. It doesn’t matter the school; it matters what you make of it. 

So, while I remain finicky with my word choice and sleepless over my transcripts, I’m also reminded that tis the season for joy and family more so than it is a time to write essays. When the outside world looks more cold than warm, let it be a reminder that a fresh start is soon to arrive. Suddenly, our worlds shrink just slightly smaller as joy that radiates from home to home, warming the spirits of families reunited in celebration.