Essays and Edits

It's been a little while since I touched on the MBA side of this Miss USA to MBA journey.

I'm planning on doing a piece about my decision to take the GRE over the GMAT, and the process I had to go through.

Instead, I wanted to share a bit of an essay I submitted for my Harvard Business School application.  HBS has an amazingly ambiguous "optional" essay.  Optional in the way my swim coach used to say, you don't have to do dry land, it's optional...and then he'd talk about me loudly when he saw me packing up to go home early.  But I digress, in to my swim induced PTSD.

It's staggering how much time and effort went in to this essay.  I wanted it to be a reflection of my character and ethics.  I'm also a huge George Lucas fan (don't worry, this has a point), and he mentioned Joseph Campbell's The Hero With A Thousand Faces as a source of inspiration.  It's about the heroes journey, and I wanted my HBS essay to reflect my heroes journey so far.

I've had the privilege to act as my father's speech writer for the last 4 years, and my writing style has grown so much from it.  The essays were the most exciting part to me, because I felt it was my one opportunity to truly sell myself.

Feel free to leave questions and comments about essay writing.
(P.s. This is just an excerpt, I can't give all the goods away)

You’re applying to Harvard Business School.  We can see your resume, school transcripts, extra-curricular activities, awards, post-MBA career goals, test scores and what your recommenders have to say about you.    What else would you like us to know as we consider your candidacy?

  I remember the day vividly. I was six years old and attending my first end of the season banquet for the Kenwood Country Club swim team. I sat on the floor in front of the stage, while the parents and big kids occupied the tables scattered around the ballroom. My heart skipped a beat every time my coach picked up a trophy, announcing the winner. Girls High Point, 6 & Under High Point, Most Improved, the list continued to rattle on. I was one lone chocolate chip in a sea of vanilla ice cream. I started to feel my little heart sink further with every name. Finally, I heard my name; it felt like I was floating, this was my moment. But, like the final scene from the movie Carrie, my award was a joke. The coach handed me an egg timer, my award, person with the busiest schedule. The coaching staff thought it would be funny to talk about how busy I’d been, juggling horseback riding, summer math immersion program, and swim team.

I watched as my dad leaned over to my mom, I’m guessing he said he was going to bring the car around, because when I looked back, after fixating on a carpet speck to keep from crying, I saw my mom. She mouthed the words “it’s okay”. When the award banquet ended and we stood at the front entrance waiting for my dad, I burst into tears. I have very nurturing parents, but in that moment my mom turned and said, “stop! Now you dry your tears,” she said through my sniffles, “don’t let them see you cry.” “If you don’t like the way they made you feel tonight, you can fix it. You can work and train, and your father and I will support you, but remember this feeling…and don’t ever let anyone make you feel like this, you shut them up with your success.”
...
That night twenty years ago has stuck with me. Whenever I’m faced with what feels like an improbable task, I look at it as an “egg timer moment.”

...

 

XOXO,

MacKenzie