Essay 1:
Prompt: Some students have a background, identity, interest, or talent that is so meaningful they believe their application would be incomplete without it. If this sounds like you, then please share your story.

Since my first birthday, all I’ve ever wanted was to attend an Ivy League school.

From an early age, I exhibited signs of brilliance. When I was ten, I first became aware of the world’s suffering and used the dividends from my trust fund to fly to Milan to help the victims of a recent hurricane. Upon my arrival, I discovered that, while Milan was neither a third-world country nor a country, I could still express my empathy for the victims by joining an activist performance troupe and releasing a triple platinum album on interpretive hurricane ASMR.

Upon my return to the States, I was accepted as a legacy to the prestigious St. Prestigious Academy, where I pursued my passionate yet quirky interests in designing nutcrackers for squirrels and writing, directing and starring in a Netflix Original about St. Prestigious inspired by Gossip Girl.
But all this was just a prelude to meeting a very special person, who changed not only my life but my perspective on humanity. He was someone I’d seen every day but had never focused on until I came home late one night from a crowdfunding event for my squirrel nutcrackers. His name was Patrick, and he’s one of our doormen. That night, once Patrick had helped me stumble up to our penthouse, we started to talk, and a new world opened up. Patrick had come to this country many years ago, from a place he called “Oklahoma.” Of course, I never spoke to Patrick again. But his words meant so much to me because I knew that I could include them in this essay, which would make me stand out among all the other kids with perfect SAT scores or siblings who’d died in their arms.

But I am not one to self-pity, even though my father would on numerous occasions drink an entire bottle of raspberry cordial and try to run my mother over with the combine harvester (a 19th-century heirloom from Botswana). As the Danish composer Frederick Nietzche declared, “That which does not kill me makes me longer.” This was certainly true of my mother, especially after being run over.

Finally, what do I bring to the college experience? First, a positive attitude, despite everything I have had to deal with. Second, full tuition payment.

While my father pretty much wiped out the family money in the process of running over my mother–she was in the penthouse at the time–my grandparents say they can pay for my education, and even throw in a little “allowance” for the hardworking admissions department. My grandmother says she will give up her heart and arthritis medications, and my grandfather says he will go back to work at the uranium mine in Utah although he is eighty-two and legally blind.

In this way, the college won’t have to give me scholarship money that could go to some even more disadvantaged applicants, assuming there even is one.

Essay 2:
Prompt: The lessons we take from obstacles we encounter can be fundamental to later success. Recount a time when you faced a challenge, setback, or failure. How did it affect you, and what did you learn from the experience?

My greatest obstacle? Definitely this essay. I’ve stared at a blank page for two weeks, after countless false starts about a made-up drug addiction and a math class I found difficult. I tried embellishing a story about a sports injury, but I quit soccer after one season because I didn’t like sweating that much.

This essay holds the power to decide my future. If I screw up, it’s over. One minute I’m a hopeful application with big dreams, and the next, I’m a cautionary tale about “applying yourself earlier” that parents tell their kids.

I don’t have any standardized aptitude left to test. We both know how this works; I rank below rich kids and above Thomas Jefferson’s descendants.

But I’m writing anyway because this school has been my dream ever since Mom told me it was my dream. I was skeptical at first since Twitter talks a lot about elite overproduction. After some digging, though, I discovered that the idea was a scam to keep me poor, much like this school. It’s a bit of a lose-lose (money), but I’ve decided to keep mom happy.

I recently took a campus tour to imbue my begging with a personal touch. Here are some descriptive details: the CVS on campus sold weed, and the sky was beautiful. I’ll remember that royal blue every time I think about my debt.

As for the students? The glint of hope has officially left their eyes, probably for good.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m still planning on attending. I’d like to understand the news and have a job that will comfortably place me somewhere above the poverty line. This school holds the keys to both, and the connections to exploit them. I’ll just have to moonlight in organized crime.

As for overcoming this obstacle, I haven’t.

If you give me a chance, I’ll study economics. Then it’s a small step to consulting the board of an oil company. There, I will dedicate myself to finally snuffing out the light of human civilization.

With education, everything is possible.