Essay Test: Give Us Your Poor, Your Tired, Your Huddled Masses

The following admission essay was submitted to highly selective colleges and universities.

******************************************************** 

I say this with no intended disrespect to my mother—she is kind and nurturing in ways too numerous to describe in a short essay—but my father has had a greater impact on my thinking and convictions.  He is what is sometimes referred to as a civil rights activist; though, he would reject that label.  He claims it is too narrow.  Once, he showed me this statement from Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., “Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.”  I know what he was trying to say: namely, that if he were truly committed to fighting injustice, then his focus could not be on a single group—in his case, African Americans—and he would have to be as dedicated to improving the lives of other minority groups, including women, gays, and poor people.

My father was poor.  It is not saying he was poor that troubles me; rather, it is imagining the life that he lived as a child.  I grew up in Rockford, Michigan, with all the advantages of living in a middle-class suburb; my father was reared in one of the poorest neighborhoods in Prichard, Alabama, one generation removed from a sharecropping field.  One day I was reading the chapter on poverty in my sociology textbook and—forgive the cliché—it hit me like a ton of bricks that the “absolute deprivation” that we discussed in class was the life that he lived.  It was the kind of poverty where there is never enough of whatever you need.  That’s bad.  And the brutal poverty was made worse by the assumption—held by the middle class—that the poor deserved to be poor.  That’s cruel. When he talks about his childhood there is, despite his best efforts, more than a hint of bitterness. 

I believe that people never totally transcend their upbringing.  Our life circumstances shape us, and, if we are not careful, stunt us.  Poverty is a cruel and powerful frame, often—though, thankfully not always—limiting not just one’s life chances, but crippling hopes and dreams.  When you drive through a poor neighborhood and look out the window into the eyes of a child, what future do you see for that child?  More importantly, what does the child see?   I cannot help but wonder what strangers saw when they looked into my father’s eyes when he was a child.

My father likes to say that anyone who romanticizes poverty has never been poor or has not been poor in a long time.  His poverty shaped him, but it did not limit him.  It planted in him the seeds of what I call, “compassionate activism,” especially the desire to speak for those who believe themselves to be voiceless.  Without the help of others—many of them also poor—my father likely would have died in the same social class into which he was born; that is, after all, the pattern for all social classes.  But he did “get out,” and his vehicle was a college education. 

I don’t know if he would agree with this—we sometimes see things very differently—but I have always listened to his stories and ideas, whether from a seat in a packed audience or my seat at the dinner table.  I, too, believe that a commitment to social justice is more than a pretty idea; it is a conviction worth living out.  This is a life-defining passion.  My father likes to say that the first calling in a young person’s life is the call to action; the second, a call to preparation.  I want to help people who cannot or will not advocate for themselves, especially women whose lives have been shaped and misshaped by poverty.  I want to have fun in life and, truth be told, make a good living, but I believe that we all have a higher calling. College is the place where we begin, in earnest, the preparation for fulfilling that calling. I am ready.

Questions

Rate this essay from 1-5 with 5 being the highest. What rating did you give and why?

Do you agree with the writer’s self-assessment in the last sentence? “I am ready”? Why or why not?

Does it matter whether the writer of this statement is male of female? Why or why not?

Does it matter whether this student is African-American, Asian, Hispanic, or White? Why or why not?

A recent piece in the New York Times critiques some students for over sharing on their essays. Should this student have shared the information about the father’s growing up poor? Why or why not?

Does this student demonstrate exceptional knowledge about the effects of poverty on people? If yes should this knowledge be an important part of the evaluation of this student’s character and future promise?

If the student was poor rather than the father would this make the essay more compelling? Why or why not?

The student deliberately uses the cliché “like a ton of bricks”. Should clichés always be avoided in essays?

Have you ever imagined the childhood of one of your parents? Have you ever shared what you imagined? 

I would like to thank Haley, the author of this essay. The essay and other admission information  from Haley is available on the website admitsee.com for a small fee. I am grateful to the author and to admitsee for letting me post the essay here for free.