Sample Essay Grades

Overall: 1

Content: 1
The essay topic is unclear and barely relates to the student; the content of this essay does nothing to provide a
positive picture of the student.

Style/Mechanics: 1
Student is clearly an ESOL student; several grammar and mechanics errors; virtually no sense of style

Uniqueness: 1
Essay neither grabs nor holds the reader’s attention.

All the countries in the world, they have different education systems. Thus, Korea and America have
different style of educations. In Korea, we have a really big test which called soo neung. This test is for high school
students to get into college. Students who are seniors can take that test once a year. This is why this test becomes
students to really important and big test. Because that time is an only chance for them. Most students don’t want to
wait until next year to take that test again. so they really hard try to make efforts on that test. The positive effect is
this test is that students can get more focus. Because they have a one test in a year. So they should well on that time.
And negative effect is that it can make some social problems. In Korean society, good college means that can
guarantees better future and also this way is most parents want their kids to get better future and get a good job. So
students really get depress with score and that depression connects to them to commit suicide. This shows that
society pressure force to students to get into good college. And as a result, students are struggling that with their
parents.

In America, we have SAT test to get into college. But we have more opportunities than Korea. Because in
America, we can take the test as many time as you want. So there are also positive and negative effects. Positive
effect is that people get less stress. Because we have more time to take the tests more, so if you got bad score at first
time, you don’t have to too much worry about it. And negative effect is that people are not really attention for that
test. Because they would think that they can do well next time. And they will not focus on that. I noticed that going
good college is important in our life. but in America, we don’t really much care about that which school are we
going. Good college is good for everyone. In this society, we shouldn’t go good college for good life. People find
something that they want. This is more meaningful than that. And this made me feel more freedom than Korea.
Because people get less stress and can think about more positively. And going good college is good for everyone but
more important thing is that we should find something we want to do.
Overall: 2

Content: 2
There is a clear attempt to paint the student in a positive light. There is a clear narrative. The “lesson/experience”
isn’t well explained, and the essay sort of jumps from the narrative to “this is the great thing I learned”.

Style/Mechanics: 2
Short sentences, lack of varied sentence structure, overly simplistic style.

Uniqueness: 2
What we refer to as a “coming to America” story, which is often overdone in college admission essays. This is not
as clichéd as many other similar essays, but still lacks a defining element to separate it from the crowd.

I am looking up at the sky. It is sunny outside. I am in the car driving on the road. The wind touches me
softly as if to whisper into my ears. I can feel an irresistible yearning of days gone by overwhelming me as I pass the
“Tree” on the right side of the car. It has been changed since I moved to America 3 years ago. The first time I saw
this pine tree was the day my family and I came to America. We were on the way to the house of my dad’s friend.
Thinking about living in that unfamiliar world, I remember a sense of hope and excitement, while another part of me
was full of worries about my future and life. With ambivalence, I was looking outside of the car window. All of
sudden, there was a short pine tree looking at me. I felt as if I was looking at a boy who was standing there and
smiling at me shyly. I will never forget how short, young, and immature that tree seemed. The “Tree” is reflection of
my past.

Things were about to change, however. Living in a different part of the world was a challenging
circumstance that really helped my personal growth and altered my life. When I look back on my first few years in
America, the feeling of nostalgia and notion of challenging moments come to my mind. I perfectly remember one
particular moment in my life, which later enabled me to embrace other people. On my first day of school in
America, I was surprised to find such a variety of people eating differently, thinking differently. Pretending to
understand what other people were saying to me, I often nodded as if to signify that I was in agreement with them.
In retrospect, I think that I felt I had to do that in order to get into their conversations. Not only was language an
obstacle, but understanding this new culture became a problem as well. Although I was unsure of whether I should
smile or not, I gradually began to talk more about myself. Later, I realized that I had become more mature as I
adjusted to this new circumstance.

Over the years, I have learned a great many things which have changed my entire outlook, not only on my
life, but also on the world. From the process of adjusting, I have gained an appreciation for different people.
Understanding them has helped me learn how to embrace and cooperate with them. I have experienced a lot of
things I would have missed had I never come to this country. Now, I am not afraid of the challenge. Because I know
I can do better when it becomes hard situation like this. Just as the “Tree” has become mature with the passing of
time, I have found myself growing also.
Overall: 3

Content: 3
Though there are a few minor issues, overall the essay paints the student in a positive light and tells a clear story of
personal growth. The lesson is slightly unclear and could be better connected with the story, but there is a great
deal of potential here.

Style/Mechanics: 3
There are some stylistic changes that could greatly improve the overall tone of the essay, but it is mostly error-free
and the student’s natural writing style is engaging.

Uniqueness: 2-3
This is another example of a “Coming to America” story, but it is told in a unique tone and with a unique approach.

“I don’t know how to speak Korean,” I lied to my Korean classmates weeks after moving to America in the 8th
grade. I passed by the table full of Koreans in the cafeteria and sat down with my new friends. With hamburgers and
chicken wings in front of me, we talked about the Spider-Man costume I wore for Halloween and last weekend’s
football game.

Later that day, riding the school bus, I saw my Korean classmates walking down the street to a huge Korean
supermarket three minutes away from my high school. As my classmates neared the bus, I could hear them speaking
Korean. “I want to go back to Korea!” one said. Looking away, I slowly closed the window. “How can they miss
Korea?” I wondered. “They have already recreated it in America.”

Simply said, I wanted to discover the variety of American culture. In order to fully immerse myself in my new
world, I declared not to watch my favorite Korean TV shows and decided to try out for the baseball team in
freshman year. Although I had never played baseball before, I loved challenges and thought being part of
“America’s pastime” would be the quickest way to become a part of America myself.

Every day during winter break, my alarm and baseball tutorial videos awakened me at seven o’ clock for batting
practice. Clink! I broke a cup with the bat. “Don’t you think you are following a bold adventure?” my mother said.
She brought out a broom to clean the mess. “Komanhera,” she scolded me to stop.

A few days later, my aspiring baseball player friends brought me to a burrito restaurant after a conditioning practice.
“What is bu-rri-to?” I asked. “It’s like a taco,” my friend said. I had had neither before, but went anyway. Following
along the food counter, I put any ingredients that seemed palatable: beans, cheese, lettuce, tomatoes, sour cream,
and, of course, rice. At first, I was overwhelmed by the size of the burrito. However, it tasted amazing.

In return for the burrito lesson, I asked my friends if they wanted to eat a Korean meal with me. “What is
bibimbap?” my friends asked. “It’s like a burrito,” I said. “May I have bibimbap please?” I ordered awkwardly in
Korean in front of my American friends. I saw my friends’ eyes widening from seeing a rainbow forming with
colors from the vegetables, fried egg, sliced meat, and chili pepper paste covering a white bowl of rice. Fortunately,
the food did not require chopsticks. And they loved the food as much as I loved the burrito.

On my journey to “America’s pastime,” I quickly struck out. But as I walked back to the dugout, I smiled as my
friends cheered me up. I tried baseball, but didn’t try apple pie. Instead, I discovered a new world of food: the
burrito. Although I did not make the team, I was delighted to realize that I had become a person who embraces many
cultures.
Overall: 3-4

Content: 3-4
Story shows that student in a positive light, but at times it reflects more on the Grandmother than on the student.

Style/Mechanics: 3-4
There are some stylistic changes that could be made, but all in all the tone is satisfactory and the essay is error free.

Uniqueness: 3
It’s a somewhat unique take on a clichéd topic.

Everyone thinks insects are gross. Everyone, that is, except me. I love insects. Everything about them
fascinates me. When I was young, most people found my interest to be a little strange, but I could always count on
the support of one person: my grandmother
When I was growing up in Korea, my dad was very sick, and my mom had to work all day. As a result, my
grandma took on many of the responsibilities of raising me. She was with me all the time and we grew very close. In
fact, I never talked about personal things with my parents, only with my grandma. She was the one who took care of
me when I was sick and ceaselessly encouraged me to succeed. All of my memories about my childhood are about
her and our time together.
My grandma loved nature. Since our house was located just above the hills, she and I used to hike along
rural paths. I remember that I always ran through the fields and caught insects: ants, grasshoppers, and dragon flies.
It was fascinating to observe how the bugs lived. I was amazed that these small creatures moved and ate and grew,
just like people.
Soon my interest in insects grew into a passion. Although my parents disapproved, I bought dynastidae and
lucanidae, beetles, and raised them as pets. I would lay awake at night to see them eat and lay eggs. I added to my
menagerie when I caught a mantis; I put it in a jar and observed it like the scientist I one day hoped to become. Next,
I raised a caterpillar, watching as it became a pupa and then blossomed into a butterfly. I badly wanted to raise
spiders, but my parents drew the line at bugs that might accidentally kill me. Soon my room was full of insects,
living and breathing and building while I watched.
My parents thought I was a bit weird, even though they wanted to encourage me to become a scientist. The
one person that did not think I was strange was my grandmother. She always encouraged me and told me not to
worry about what others thought. I was always thankful that someone was on my side supporting me.
As I got older, I came to the U.S., and had less time with my grandma. Instead of collecting insects, I
started reading books about nature. My favorite books were about the life of Jean Henry Fabre, a famous
entomologist. His passion for nature inspired me as I read, helping to keep my passion for nature alive in the
absence of my many-legged friends.
In the summer of 2009, I went back to Korea and saw that my grandma had become weak and frail. I came
back to the U.S. for school and in the fall, my parents called me and told me that my grandma had passed away.
Although my greatest supporter has gone, I will never forget her encouragement that has shaped my life and love of
nature and insects. One day, when I have reached the heights of Jean Henry Fabre and I am writing my own tomes
about entomology, my every success will be dedicated to my grandmother, who never stopped believing in me.
Overall: 4

Content: 4
Good narrative with a good opening. Clearly demonstrates the student’s personal growth.

Style/Mechanics: 4
There are still some stylistic improvements that could be made, but overall the tone of the essay is both sophisticated
and a reflection of the student’s voice.

Uniqueness: 4
Certainly a unique essay, particularly given that the author is a male student.

In the dog-eat-dog world of the elementary school playground, crying was a fatal mistake that a clever fourth-grader
like myself would never commit. Whether I suffered a bee sting on the playground or caught a muddy kickball
square on the jaw, I held my tears. Crying was for immature babies and would never earn the all-important respect
of my unsentimental peers.

This lesson stuck with me for years, eventually becoming a point of contention within my family. My absolute
refusal to cry became markedly apparent when my brother and I convinced my parents to get us our first pets. Just
before I began middle school, my brother and I became the proud owners of a pair of hamsters, which we
affectionately named Mr. and Mrs. Puff. Not surprisingly, we soon tired of caring for our charges, and our
exasperated mother gave them to a much more responsible family. When my brother learned of this betrayal, he fell
to the floor, bawling over the loss of his beloved pets. Though I was upset, I couldn’t muster any tears. My parents
were uneasy at my expression of indifference, and my brother concluded that my lack of tears meant that I had never
cared about Mr. and Mrs. Puff in the first place.

Middle school required that I continue my tear-free existence. After all, middle school boys are, if anything, even
more “macho” than their elementary school counterparts. I reached the latter years of high school still refusing to
admit weakness in the form of tears.

During the summer before my senior year, I found myself the odd man out. All of my friends were content with their
girlfriends, and I became the sad, single friend in need of a date. Thus I found myself on a blind date with a girl
named Ashley. Our group of friends briefly debated the events for the evening – the guys all wanted to play Xbox,
the girls all objected – and ultimately settled on the movie, Up.

It took only ten minutes for Up to tell the most touching love story ever. The protagonist, Carl, establishes a
childhood friendship with Ellie. The film wordlessly illustrates their idyllic romance before taking a tragic turn. The
couple was unable to have children, and Ellie passed away far too young, leaving Carl bereft and along, fated to die
a wretched old man.

Ten minutes into the movie and I was sobbing.

I freely admit that it is silly to cry over a cartoon, but this single emotional display highlighted the many ways in
which I have matured with time. The beginning of Up demonstrated the force of love, bringing Carl to the peak of
happiness and then the abyss of loneliness, a story that we can all empathize with even if we have not experienced
that same depth of love. Of course, my friends failed to see this profoundly emotional lesson and teased me
mercilessly. They stopped when my blind date, Ashley, called me the next day; it appears that being in touch with
my emotions is not only a sign of emotional maturity, but is also an attractive quality in a date.
Too many people view crying as a childish weakness, something that we learn to control with age. My experience
was the opposite – my control wore away with age. Tears shouldn’t be considered a weakness and they shouldn’t be
limited to feelings of despair. They represent the things that move and touch us. Through overwhelming feelings
ranging from depression to relief, from fury to ecstasy, tears provide a release and a reflection of our passions. We
are human and we cry. Those who try to hide it are the childish ones.

As a child, I didn’t cry. I’ve surely matured since then.

Overall: 4

Content: 4
A compelling and entertaining story of personal growth.

Style/Mechanics: 4
Few, if any errors. Great use of vocabulary and sentence structure. Entertaining tone. Student has a sophisticated
writing style.

Uniqueness: 4
Although the essay could benefit from a stronger opening, the overall story is unique and the “character” of Mr.
Prouty comes through clear as a bell.

I had always loved a good argument, whether over sports or politics, but until my sophomore year at
Hotchkiss, I always believed the classroom was not the place for one. One could respectfully disagree, but arguing
seemed boorish, not suited to the pensive quietude of a classroom.

My English teacher that year, Mr. Prouty, shattered that notion. He raced around the room, whacking kids
with his old copy of Huckleberry Finn which was so beat up that it could’ve been Mark Twain’s. He was alive and
expressive; he spoke softly and then roared. Instead of speaking in an authoritative monotone, he changed accents in
his speech like a musician changes keys. A small man with a full head of hair that always looked as though it were
trying to break free from his scalp, he demanded that we students break free from our detached quiescence. In other
words, he wanted us students to try to prove him wrong.

My first great argument with Mr. Prouty was over Brave New World by Aldous Huxley. Mr. Prouty
explained how he felt that life was about the dichotomy between struggle and reward and how he felt that the future
world depicted in the novel was not somewhere he would want to live. I took the opposite position, stating that I
believed everything we do in life is with the intention of creating happiness for ourselves, whether present or future
and that a world whose people are permanently happy was a world in which I would like to try living. He debated
that since this happiness was artificially manufactured and imposed on people, it was not possible for people to act
on whatever intentions of happiness they might have. We would argue for half a class, citing textual examples,
making analogies and bringing in anecdotes. Upon completing the book, I realized that the classroom was a place
not only to build my knowledge but to foster my will to be interested in and engaged with abstractions in a human
way. Acting out scenes from novels, Mr. Prouty would address us directly, demonstrating how the issues and
emotions the characters dealt with were no different than those of our own lives.

My interest became my greatest tool as a student; I was leading class discussions and writing better essays
that critically reflected and examined myself and others.

Mr. Prouty was the catalyst of my intellectual curiosity. He showed me how much I could enrich my own
experiences by being interested and emotionally invested in a subject. Mr. Prouty flipped a switch in me that cannot
be undone: learning is a mindset and a choice that I am compelled to make.