The Lost College Essay

I scrapped this essay and went with something a little more narrative about a week before my application was due. Solid decision.

            The place where we spend our formative years etches deep into our character. Our perspective of the world originates from this single place, as do our aspirations and dreams.

            That being said, I grew up in the tiny suburban community of Seaford. Located on Long Island’s south shore, Seaford is sandwiched between affluent Wantagh, with their Blue Ribbon Schools and Massapequa, home to several famous actors and writers. Both of these towns have bustling social hubs situated close to the Long Island Rail Road, attracting visitors from both east and west. They also boast opulent enclaves hidden among their southern most canals.

In contrast, Seaford lacks a downtown, and the homes found on its canals still belong to 3^rd generation bay men who fish for a living, rather than pleasure. Unlike it’s sister suburbs, Seaford remains insular, content to reflect on its own successes and bury its failures. Friday nights are often spent wandering from friend’s house to friend’s house with very little purpose or aim in mind. It’s a safe place to grow up, but it’s also a sheltered one. The high school tries hard to offer something for everyone, but generally nobody deviates from his or her predestined niche that developed in middle school. That’s how things work here, and no one ever really questions it.

My parents always told me my first word was “More.” I contend that I was really saying “Mom,” but my parents are insistent. In retrospective however, “More,” is a great way to characterize my life in comparison to the town I’ve grown up in. From a young age, I’ve always strived to get more out of my options, be they educational, artistic, or social. To me, this contrast between my town and me has only furthered my search for a greater challenge.

One of the most valuable things to me is education. I’ve always believed that knowledge is power, so I strive to soak up as much information as I can in whatever setting I happen to find myself in. In 7^th grade, three partners and myself voluntarily submitted a project to Toshiba’s Exploravision science fair and received an honorable mention—something that no Seaford student had ever done before. In high school, I’ve only taken the most challenging courses available, even if it meant not having a lunch period. I’ve stayed constant in my studies of music, and I’m one of the only students to request further instruction in music theory, turning a one year course into a more complex, more challenging two year course. Even my summer was dedicated to extra education, as I spent this past July at NYU studying journalism and taking a college writing workshop.

While I do enjoy the educational challenges, I have a deeper respect and yearning for artistic challenges as well. I started playing trombone in fourth grade, and I continue to do so even today. While I received my weekly instruction at school, I needed more. In the tenth grade, I bought my first guitar and took a month of lessons. After that month however money was tight, and I was forced to continue my studies alone, playing songs by ear and translating what I learned in the school band to guitar. Now quite fluent in guitar, I decided to conquer another instrument on my own—the piano. The exciting thing about instruments is you can always learn more. And that is what I do, even though most students in this town are restricted to learning a “band” instrument or finding lessons on their own.

I mentioned earlier that Seaford does not have a lot going on most of the time. My résumé shows that I participate in just about everything Seaford can offer, but there’s always more to be had outside the bounds of this town. My weekends are spent traveling the northeast, filming my best friend’s band, Bandcamp. Through them, I’ve met hundreds of people, young and old, who could never be found in Seaford.

Back to the original question: How has Seaford made me who I am today? There’s a one-word answer. Contrast—my town and me are polar opposites. Instead of accepting this place, I decided to make the most out of it that I could, and then go further. My town inadvertently inspired me to do so. Had I gone to a school of 7,500 students and not 750, I would have been challenged more, but artificially. In Seaford, I had to create my own challenges, and that is what made me who I am today. I’ve always asked for more, and in Seaford I had to get it by myself.

Introduction to my final paper for my NYU Pre-College writing class in 11th grade.

Over the last 4 weeks, my Tuesday and Thursday afternoons have been spent in the same place. While most of my friends on Long Island were at the beach (or sleeping), I was at 269 Mercer Street in room 235. It wasn’t the ideal summer hangout, but I have a feeling that I’m getting so much more out of this class than I’d be getting at the beach. When class began, I was anxious to analyze my author, however I think I expected this task to be a lot simpler than it actually was. Even after countless late nights (and about 20,000 cups of coffee), my author’s inner psyche still befuddles me to a degree. Each time I read his pieces over, new information jumps out at me, both in content and context. I could probably write a new draft every single day until the end of summer, each day sculpting a new vision for the reader. However I am not granted that luxury (if you would even call it that), so what you see here is basically an incomplete work. Scratch that. Not incomplete, just unfinished. The greatest lesson I’ve learned though is that words say a lot more than what they mean. The secret to understanding great texts is to go beyond the solid definitions of words, and once that barrier is broken a whole new significance is discovered. This paper may technically be unfinished, but it just may be the most complete paper I’ve ever written. Enjoy.

The Girlfriend Song by SiX

Writing “serious” songs wasn’t working (WONDER WHY), so I changed gears and started writing silly shit about friends. They’d get drunk (I was straightedge) and I’d make them sing the chorus at parties. Inside jokes, ahoy! Also, it was at this point I started going by my HS nickname, Six (stylized: SiX). Names blanked to protect the Googleable innocent.

The girlfriend song.

This is the girlfriend song.

It is a song.

About friends with girls

The girlfriend song.

Joe Z___el

L-U-L

With Joe Z___el

She cuddles well

Suckadadick

In the back of the car

Presents each month,

They’ll sure go far

And that’s cute

For the Girlfriend Song

Girlfriend Song.

Dave

Is with Erica

And Dave

He hates Erica

She is loony toon

Who likes to cry on the phone

She sucks in bed

And should be alone

Cause shes a bitch.

And in the girlfriend song.

Girlfriend song.

Nicholas B___k

Likes little girls

13 and up

He’ll take em all for whirls

He banged J___ Bang

And Mark did too

But he likes freshman ass

So that fell through

But tough luck

This is the girlfriend song.

The girlfriend song.

Speaking of young

Mike Cerass

Sort of with Kern

Means Chaz’s loss

 There’s so many jokes

That I could say

So lets leave it at this

Just have it your way

At BK

With a side of girlfriend song.

The Girlfriend song.

Then there’s B___r

and Tara D.

Dumped his ass

For her ex Danny

Things were good

Things were great

But when youre a psychopath

Love turns to hate

But B__r’s a pimp

So fuck the girlfriend song.

Fuck the girlfriend song!

It is a shitty song!

And its far too long!

So fuck the girlfriend song!

The Girlfriend Song!

The Girlfriend

Songggggggggg.

Punk Rawk Girl by James D.

Oh, another gem from my brief foray as a freshman songwriter.

The makeup (A6)

The hair (A4)

The clothes (A4)

And the car (A2)

Is what any hot girl needs (A6, A4, A2)

But that’s all jack (A6, A4)

You can take it all back (A4, A2)

And give me what I plead (A6, A4, A2)

I want my punk rawk girl (A6, A4, A2)

I want my punk rawk girl (A6, A4, A2)

With her pins from the band, (A6, A4)

And a drawn on left hand, (A4, A2)

A punk rawk girl. (A6, A4, A2)

A punk rawk girl. (A6, A9, A2)

Most girls care, (A6, A4)

Bout what they wear (A4, A2)

They can’t ever look like a mess (A6, A4, A2)

But screw all that (A6, A4)

Give me one wearing black (A4, A2)

Cause baby, these girls are the best! (A6, A4, A2)

I want my punk rawk girl (A6, A4, A2)

I want my punk rawk girl (A6, A4, A2)

With her dyed pink hair (A6, A4)

And that cold empty stare (A4, A2)

A punk rawk girl. (A6, A4, A2)

A punk rawk girl! (A6, A9, A2)