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Successful Harvard Essay: ‘Identity’ & ‘Overcoming An Obstacle'
The Zoo
As late afternoon sunlight danced on my shoulders, I squished my eight-year-old face against the glass of the outdoor tank, eyes wide and searching for any signs of life. There! I scrambled from where I was seated, chasing the flickering sight of my prize. The otter darted away from me, his lithe body disappearing into a crack in the stones. I slumped against the wall, disappointed. Ever the HR representative, my mother saw my face and asked me what was wrong. I explained my frustration with the otters -- they’re so fun to watch, but they refuse to be seen. My mother leaned down, brushing a long lock of hair out of my face, and told me, “Sometimes, the animals get tired of being watched. They just want to be left alone.”
I didn’t think much of the otters after that. Until I became one.
In October of my sophomore year, I was four months into my transition from female to male. I wasn’t out to my extended family, my wardrobe was a haphazard mess of cargo shorts and skirts, and my voice was still, to my distress, annoyingly high. Being transgender at Middleton High School was no small feat -- I stuck out in a sea of over 2,000 cisgender peers, and most of my teachers did not know how to deal with people “in my situation,” as one put it.
One day, as I walked to my bus after school, I heard snickers from behind me. I turned around and saw a rowdy group of boys. One had his phone up, recording me. Everyone was laughing, and in an instant I knew they were laughing at me. I turned and walked away, doing my best to conceal myself from their view. The laughter continued.
I was the star of a humiliating show that I never asked to be a part of. I had become the otter. Their laughs kept ringing in my ears as I sat alone on the bus. I wanted to crawl inside myself and implode rather than think about going back to face them again the next day. My phone kept buzzing, but I refused to check it. It was only when I arrived home and checked those messages that I found that the video had been posted across social media for hundreds of my peers to see. It seemed like nothing, just a video of me walking, turning, and looking away. But their laughs were clear in the background, and I still understood the point of the video -- look at the freak. Look at the new zoo exhibit.
Seeing that video, I realized that I couldn’t allow myself to turn into what they saw me as. They wanted an otter, a punching bag that wouldn’t fight back. I was not going to be their otter. The next day, I went to my first Sexuality and Gender Equality club meeting. I spoke to the administration about what had happened. I saved the video and showed people. I took control.
Maybe they'll never see me as an equal, but that is their blindness, not mine.
Those boys wanted me to believe that I was merely an exhibit to be laughed at, but now I know I live for greater things. I live for lattes, for courtroom closing arguments, for the pesto I make at work. I live for Black Lives Matter and #enough and Pride. I live for kayaking and summer camp, for the kids in SAGE and my younger sister. My classmates tried to dehumanize me, trample me, and mold me into their image of transgender people. Maybe they’ll never see me as an equal, but that is their blindness, not mine. I do not live on display. I do not live in a zoo.
Professional Review by MR. MBA®, Val Misra
Marcus does an excellent job of creating a deeply heartfelt, introspective, and triumphant personal development story in this thought-provoking essay focusing on ‘identity’ and ‘overcoming an obstacle’. It can be risky to discuss two major themes, but he interweaves them flawlessly. Each paragraph stands alone as wonderful insight, written in beautiful creative prose, into Marcus’ journey- from childhood confusion (encounter with the otter) to future self-discovery and isolation (he becomes the otter), to self-acceptance and determination (he will not be bullied), and ultimately to victory (his passion and love for his life).
In Paragraphs 1-2, Marcus' individual anecdote on the zoo otter is highly effective to frame the larger discussion of his challenging transition from cisgender to transgender.
In Paragraphs 1-2, Marcus’ individual anecdote on the zoo otter is highly effective to frame the larger discussion of his challenging transition from cisgender to transgender. His mother’s wisdom about an otter’s reasoning for self-isolation shines brightly, setting the foundation for what is to come. Marcus’ self-comparison to the otter he once saw in the zoo intrigues me to read on.
Para 3 effectively highlights the difficulties he endured during his transition in high school- his coming out, his clothing, his high-pitched voice, and academic faculty challenges. These examples help the reader understand his plight.
Para 4-5 depict Marcus’ self-realization that he has now become the zoo otter- a show piece, a “freak”, something he never asked to be. He weaves a sad, rather troubling encounter in high school of bullying and public humiliation that causes him sorrow, isolation and questioning his self-worth. Marcus’ honesty invokes true emotions and I really feel for him.
The ‘A-ha’ moment arrives in Para 6, where Marcus crafts delightful, deep introspection and realization that he will not be the butt of jokes but an agent of change. He takes “control” by attending club meetings and speaking with school faculty.
Para 7 embodies the victory lap, as Marcus details his joys, self-acceptance and who he is now. He loves coffee, the law, his work, kayaking, his sister, Black Lives Matter and sex-gender associations. Wisdom is shared through his understanding that he cannot change the ignorance of others but live a purposeful, passion-filled life as his new self- a sincere message to the reader and, likely, others like him.
Overall, this winning essay takes the reader on a vivid, emotional and well-structured journey, sharing the author’s unique experiences and why these experiences are significant for his growth and maturity.
The Crimson's news and opinion teams—including writers, editors, photographers, and designers—were not involved in the production of this article.