Hard Work Short Essay About Friendship

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Making friends -- well, really good friends -- in today's day and age is one of the hardest things to do. It's almost as if the people who were once born with wonderful traits have traded them in for a fancy car, and the kids of these parents are picking up on these bad habits. (I'm not by any means speaking about everyone; I am however speaking about certain people I have come in contact with.)

I have childhood friends from as far back as when I was in the playpen or the stroller, and my teenage girlfriends are still right alongside me till this day.

But what I have noticed, as well as experienced, is that some of the people you meet nowadays (not all of them) are not as big on playing nice, doing things to help each other get ahead, giving the right advice, or even sticking to a simple lunch date.

It's like every man for him or herself -- and I'm just referring to simple things like being open, honest and trustworthy.

It's actually heartbreaking to see my 20-year-old son go through his greatest years with such a small group of friends because he feels, as I do, that "you can't trust no one." (Although, he has the best small group of friends and I love them all.)

What happened to loyalty amongst friends, girls' day at the salon or a boys' night out where it wasn't about trying to score with the next man's woman?

So for all those out there trying to make good friends that will do for you what you would do for them, keep a few things in mind:

If they keep can't their word about keeping a simple lunch or dinner date on a consistent level, they probably aren't who you should call if you get a flat.

If they are always telling you someone else's business... Well, then, they probably shouldn't be the one you tell your secrets to.

However, If they do keep appointments, offer to help when you don't ask and have the same values and a similar life background, they may understand you much more quickly and will be easier to befriend if you have a glamorous city lifestyle rather than someone who, say, lived on a farm with a pastor as a dad (Not that there's anything wrong with that! How I wish I came from Idaho and had Squeally the pig as my best friend sometimes!).

I'm just simply saying when making friends think as you would as if it were a new romantic relationship:

- Go slow and steady
- Try to find things in common (work, hobbies, where you are living)
- Don't spill your guts
- Don't make promises you can't keep
- Be there for that person
- Give what you get
- Stay loyal to who you are
- And if that person doesn't do the right thing by you, well then that person doesn't deserve you as a friend!

Friendship is precious -- priceless as a matter of fact -- and although it's not always easy to find, I am still adamant that there is good in people, and that there are people that still have family values and decent morals. And never forget your oldest friends; I'm extremely grateful for the amazing friendships I have had from a young age!

Follow Renee Graziano on Twitter: www.twitter.com/reneegraziano

But Mr. Cranberg thumbed his nose at that convention, taking on the tremendous cost of the piles of mail schools send to potential students, and the waste that results from the effort. He figured that he received at least $200 worth of pitches in the past year or so.

“Why, in an era of record-high debt and unemployment, are colleges not reallocating these ludicrous funds to aid their own students instead of extending their arms far and wide to students they have never met?” he asked in the essay.

Antioch College seemed to think that was a perfectly reasonable question and accepted him, though he will attend Oberlin College instead, to which he did not submit the essay.

“It’s a bold move to critique the very institution he was applying to,” said Mr. Bauld, who also teaches English at in . “But here’s somebody who knows he can make it work with intelligence and humor.”

Indeed, Mr. Cranberg’s essay includes asides about applicants’ gullibility and the college that sent him a DHL “priority” envelope, noting inside that he was a priority to the college. “The humor here is not in the jokes,” Mr. Bauld added. “It originates in a critical habit of mind, and the kind of mind that is in this essay is going to play out extremely well in any class that he’s in.”

Admissions professionals often warn people not to think that they can write their way into the freshman class. “The essay is one document that, even in the best of circumstances, is written by an individual telling one story,” said Shawn Abbott, the assistant vice president for undergraduate admissions at . “I don’t believe that any one writing sample should trump what they did over four years.”

Still, he acknowledged that his staff had been taken with the story told by Lyle Li, a 19-year-old resident who applied this year. He wrote about his family’s restaurant and his mother, an immigrant from who once wanted to be a doctor and now works behind a cash register.

“When I visit my friends, I see the names of elite institutions adorning the living room walls,” wrote Mr. Li, a senior at Regis High School in . “I am conscious that these framed diplomas are testaments to the hard work and accomplishments of my friends’ parents and siblings. Nevertheless, the sight of them was an irritating reminder of the disparity between our households. I was not the upper-middle-class kid on Park Avenue. Truth be told, I am just some kid from Brooklyn. Instead of diplomas and accolades, my parents’ room emits a smell from the restaurant uniforms they wear seven days a week, all year round.”

Mr. Abbott said that N.Y.U. received plenty of essays about the immigrant experience. So Mr. Li risked writing one of many stories about long odds and hard work in an unfamiliar, unforgiving place.

But he did not fall into that trap and will be attending N.Y.U. this fall. “His essay brought his family’s circumstance and background into Technicolor,” Mr. Abbott said. “He paints a very vivid picture of what life is really like in his home. I think he’s proud of his accomplishments and work ethic, but there’s also a humility each day when he takes off his preppy blue blazer in front of his mom.”

The essay by Ana Castro, an 18-year-old senior at the Doane Stuart School in Rensselaer, N.Y., is about not quite arriving, in spite of having been born in the United States. And her essay for , which she will attend in the fall, centers on her desire to serve in the . It opens with a joke about her hating clowns and leeches and tells a sad story of a visit to the , where her father refused to let her play with the destitute boy next door. “My heart broke, not because I was now stuck eating plantains by myself in the stinging sun, but because that boy experienced a level of poor I never knew.”

Then she makes a startling statement that stopped both me and Mr. Bauld as we were reading it for the first time. “I have never seen the United States as my country,” Ms. Castro wrote. “I have never felt total patriotism to any country. I do not instantly think of staying here to help ‘my home,’ because I do not consider the United States my home. The Earth is ‘my home.’ ”

To Monica Inzer, Hamilton’s dean of admission and financial aid, bold declarations like this one are a strong sign of authenticity if nothing else. “Lots of essays have been doctored or written by other people,” she said. “You know that a parent didn’t write this. I don’t know how I know, but I do.”

Mr. Bauld knows how he knows. “There’s always an attempt in some of these college admissions factories to smooth out a student’s edges,” he said. “But what I loved about this piece is that there is no attempt to smooth out anything.”

As for Ms. Kumar, the 18-year-old Princeton applicant, her essay wasn’t so much smooth as it was slick, gliding effortlessly from her breakfast table to the manicured campus of Princeton to the “occidental bubble” of her school classroom. There’s a detour onto the city bus and then a quick trip to before coming back to the “towering turrets” of again.

Nevertheless, Princeton rejected her, and when I approached the university to find out if it had anything to do with her essay, it cited its policy of not commenting on any applicants or admissions decisions. I told its spokesman, Martin Mbugua, that other schools had commented on their own applicants once the students gave them permission, but he was unmoved.

Ms. Kumar suggested that her grades might not have been quite high enough, but Mr. Bauld contended that Princeton should have been swayed by her words.

“One of the things that makes this essay is her tone,” he said. “It could have been, ‘Princeton should be poorer,’ but she opens it as an inquiry. What she does is that she listens very carefully to what you have assigned her to do, and as a response to that, she says, ‘Well, let me ask you this!’ ”

Next week, Ms. Kumar will take the stage as Marty in the Science production of and she’ll collect her diploma on June 21. In the fall, she’ll attend , for which she wrote no essays about the university’s level of affluence.

To Mr. Bauld, that’s Princeton’s loss. “She is that person who is always going to give an interesting answer, even to the most boring question,” he said. “That’s my confidence in reading it, and I’d want that person in my class as a teacher.”

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