Writing: College Application Essays #8 (Common App - Misc.)

Note: I put this essay in the other comments section of my application– dumb idea, yes, I know– when I should have actually made it my main essay. This is one of my favorite ones, and I used it for some scholarship applications, which I never heard back from.

Pleasanton, California is known as one of the wealthiest suburbs in the nation. In 2007, the United States Census Bureau named it the most affluent midsize city in America. In 2013, around sixty percent of households made over $100,000.

In 1997, my family found its way to this picturesque and prosperous suburban city after arriving from rural provinces in the Philippines. Understandably, they experienced quite a bit of culture shock. Armed only with their newly-earned college degrees, they lived in poverty for a while until they built themselves up, living the American Dream. As people of color in a predominantly white, wealthy community, they were met with subtle racism in employment and everyday life.

Today, Pleasanton has gone the same way as the rest of suburbia in America, with growing racial diversity and rising incomes. Having grown up here, I did not experience the same racism or struggles as my parents did. However, as a second generation immigrant, I’ve faced different obstacles– mainly regarding economic class.

My school is a microcosm of that community. Here, Asians make up the largest minority group, around fifty percent. But, within that group, Filipinos only make up a small percentage. The majority of students are from established families, having lived in Pleasanton for a number of generations.  

As a result, students have opportunities and connections not available to most high school students. It is normal– and expected– for my peers to take paid summer internships at prestigious universities, fly across the nation to attend pre-college programs, or learn how to game the system of standardized tests for perfect scores. My classmates are expected to go to elite colleges and continue the family tradition of becoming doctors, lawyers, or accountants– and as a result, academic competition becomes tense. The prevailing mindset is that my failure is someone else’s gain; so, I’d better make sure that failure is not a possibility.

In this world built upon numbers, GPAs, and test scores, I don’t necessarily fit in. My peers’ paths are set; I am a blank slate. From their own experiences, my parents know the importance of choosing your own destiny. Back in Philippines, my father chose his own path, moving to Manila to learn telecommunications instead of staying a farmer and fishery worker.

However, choosing a destiny comes at a cost. Unlike my classmates, I lack the resources, connections, and advantages to traditionally succeed in Pleasanton. Instead of researching cutting-edge medical technology in a family friend’s laboratory, I ride the six AM BART train to Fremont to go to free summer science camps. I tutor other struggling students at my old middle school. I cook and sell food to raise money for social justice. I teach children about science and cultures vastly different from my own.   

But, sometimes, it’s like flying through a storm; I’m moving blind. I don’t know where I’m headed, and I’ve lost sight of where I’ve come from. I don’t know what I want to do or what the future holds for me. The sunlight which guides my classmates is obscured by dark clouds.  

My goal isn’t to follow in my parent’s footsteps. My goal is to make a place in the world. My race or economic class does not define my future or my success. My education, on the other hand, is my guiding light; it is also my wings. It is not a stepping stone to wealth or a checkmark on a bucket list.

I will always find a way. No matter where I go, my passion for learning will always take me to where I need to be.