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The required Essay should discuss an experience that you consider one of the most important learning experiences you have had in the past ten years. The experience could have occurred in a formal or informal educational setting or be a life experience. Please limit the essay to approximately 500 words and you should compose the essay yourself.

The colossal metal fence stretching between the island confines was unmistakably uninviting. Elevated beyond the towering trees and rocks, the wretched and dreary silver barricade was at sheer contrast with Royal Caribbean International Cruise Line’s self-proclaimed “private paradise”. However, none of the vacationers seemed to notice the barrier, as it conveniently tucked away behind a jungle of tropical trees. But I quickly noticed. I wasn’t puzzled as to why it was there—after all, Haiti is undoubtedly a dangerous country—but I was interested. Unbeknownst to me, the mystique of what prowled beyond that fence would soon become apparent through an interaction that changed my perspective forever.

My best friend Phil and I sat down and began devouring food from a buffet beneath a large pavilion on the island. We had just awakened from a party-ridden night on the ship, so understandably, we were hungry. The vacation had been quite an experience thus far, it being my first time not only on a cruise ship, but also outside of the United States. As I indulged into my meal, it was still hard to believe that I was in Haiti of all places; nonetheless, extraordinary yelps from Haitians behind the fence interrupted all doubt about where Phil and I were.

I looked at Phil curiously as the calls became louder. I assumed Phil was accustomed to this, being that his family routinely traveled on cruise ships; however, when he replied with a mirroring expression, I knew it was just as unusual to him as it was to me. We then felt compelled to journey toward the fence to discover what the Haitians desired. As we ventured closer, cries of the word “food” became obvious, as did the rubbing motion they exhibited upon their stomachs. These people were hungry.

Phil and I didn’t think twice. With a complementary buffet behind us, it was easy to solve this dilemma. Jogging our way back to the pavilion, Phil and I stacked plates of food. We rushed back over to the fence. There really was no reason to rush, but for whatever reason, we felt that there was.

After reaching the fence, Phil and I were finally able to clearly see what these people looked like. I was stunned to learn that they were our age. Covered in filthy and ragged clothing, the five Haitian boys were unquestionably destitute. Looking down at our plates, Phil and I configured a way to administer the food. The most accessible items were the corn cobs, so we slipped them through the openings of the fence. When the Haitians began begging for meat, we forcibly became more creative. The meat would have to get dirty as we slid it through a larger hole beneath the fence; nevertheless, the Haitian boys feasted appreciatively. Nearly twenty minutes later, security on our side of the fence demanded we stop.

Phil and I returned to the pavilion and again began hearing calls. Turning toward the fence, we noticed these calls were not for food. The Haitian boys began saluting us in manic fashion, dancing and waving their arms in praise.

That’s when it all sunk in: the things people take for granted. I was an 18-year old college student on vacation, having the time of my life, and with such promise ahead of me. Imprisoned on the other side of the fence were boys my age with nothing to look forward to. Perceptibly, every day was a fight. For these boys, a plate of food was enough to celebrate over. Certainly, my perception of “self-entitlement” became much more conservative ever since.

sparty99 wrote:If this is the story you are going to use, I would make it more compelling in terms of what you learned and how it actually changed your life...I mean, the lesson seems a little juvenile. The American travels in luxury to a third world country, see's the poor people and realizes, "geez, maybe I have a good life." (YAWN!)

Who hasn't given money or food to a homeless person on the streets in America or while traveling? Back this up with some facts. You went back to the boat and your life of luxury. This isn't believable. If this changed your life, what did you do to follow up? Did you establish a foundation back home? Did you volunteer at the soup kitchen? This is a story the admissions committee has heard before, so if this really changed you, let's see the evidence with concrete examples. Otherwise, you lost a serious opportunity to show the admissions committee how an event really changed you for the better.

The look in their eyes is most unforgettable to me, more so than anything else. Certainly, their ragged clothing was disheartening, their filthy skin was depressing, and their cries for food were agonizing; each by itself offered enough to leave a lasting impression. But the way these Haitian boys stared into my eyes is what moved me most. It was a look I had never received before. Sure, I had previously encountered impoverished people, but never one that expressed a gawk like the one given by the five boys standing behind that wretched metal fence. Their begging, glossy eyes made the visual exchange feel different from anything I had ever experienced; it didn’t even feel human-to-human. No, they looked at me as something greater than their equal. The look in their eyes said it all.

My best friend Phil and his family had brought me as their guest in what was my first time both on a cruise ship and outside of the United States. Stopping at many islands along the way, we had now reached what Royal Caribbean Cruise Line called their “private paradise”. Conveniently tucked away in the distance was a towering fence that hid the fact that this island was no paradise at all. We were in Haiti.

Bringing my attention to the seemingly ignored fence were bizarre yelps from behind it. Curious, both Phil and I wandered back through a forest of tropical trees and to the fence, where we discovered the source of the hollering: five Haitian brothers, all around our age, rubbing their stomachs emphatically and crying the word “food”. These people were hungry.

From the complementary buffet set up at the “private paradise”, Phil and I stacked plates of food and returned to the fence. The most easily deliverable items were the corn cobs, so we slipped them through the openings of the fence. When the Haitians began begging for meat, we forcibly became more creative. The meat would have to get dirty as we slid it through a larger hole beneath the fence; nevertheless, the Haitian boys feasted appreciatively.


Watching them devour the food, my heart sank. I know Phil’s did too. They ate happily as we gazed sympathetically. The inhumanity of watching them from behind a cage was troubling. Licking their fingers after finishing the food, their eyes returned to ours and widened with hope, like a dog’s to their owner before being fed. But they weren’t dogs; they were human-beings. It was uncomfortable for me and, warranted or not, I became overwhelmed with guilt. They would have taken anything I had to offer, but I had nothing to give. They begged for a single dollar and I opened a moneyless wallet to prove I had nothing…but that didn’t change the way they looked at me.

That look remains with me. It wasn’t an inferiority-complex; they knew I had something that they didn’t: a promising future and an access to a way of life they would never experience. That’s why they looked at me the way they did. The things we take for granted: an epiphany that now embeds within me. I oftentimes think about those boys, and the same picture reappears in my mind: the look in their eyes. It is a look that will always haunt me with guilt yet forever remind me to appreciate. Certainly, the perception of “self-entitlement” should be much more conservative than many realize.