Scholarship Essays for College Admissions

I can smell the excitement in the air as I wake up, for it is Saturday. No matter what kind of a day I have, there is one thing waiting for me at ten thirty. As I turn on the television, my heart races; I anticipate the host I have been waiting to see all week. The first skit is over, and I hear the best eight word phrase ever invented, “Live from New York, it’s Saturday Night Live!” By this time I can barely sit still in my seat. Five minute commercials seem like an eternity of eagerness and sheer boredom. This is where I want to be.
As high school began, my self-assurance grew. Switching from a private catholic grade school to a public high school was a big change. Larger classes, more faces, different rules, and numerous activities swirled around me. I was sitting in third hour when the announcement came over the intercom, “There will be a drama club meeting after school in room 110.” A large sigh of relief came from the bottom of my lungs. I relaxed in my satisfaction. I found what I had been looking for.
The meeting was full of upperclassmen with years of experience under their belts. For some strange reason, this did not overwhelm me. I felt at ease and quite welcomed. Then I saw her for the first time; there at the head of the classroom stood the most intimidating woman I have met in my life. This five foot two inch, solemn theatre alumni had a set of lungs like an opera singer. “My name is Ms. Cantine,” she belted. In all my seventeen years of life, this was the first time I ducked to hide under my desk.
My love for Ms. Cantine grew as years went by. It took her a full year to consider me important enough to learn my name, and when she finally did, I felt accepted into her world of mystifying theatrics. I was ready to learn all she could teach me. As my junior year approached, I was getting ready for the variety show in the fall. I took the Drama class she taught that first semester. We grew to be friends as myself, and some fellow actors, started calling her Scantine (a combo of Susan and Cantine). The variety show went astoundingly well. My friend Gabe and I did a spin-off of the Spartan Cheerleaders from SNL, and Kate and I did a skit featuring ourselves as singing old ladies from Minnesota advocating drug awareness. Then something remarkable happened; we made Ms. Cantine laugh.
After the variety show wrapped up, it was speech contest season. I took part in a one act play called “Fortress.” It was the first serious role I had to play. I was always used to being the comic. I used what I learned from her class as we took our one act to all-state the following January. People came up to me after the play telling me how they had bawled their eyes out. Seeing audience members crying as they left the theatre gave me the reassurance I needed to strive for my goals.
The end of the year was approaching when I heard the most shocking announcement of my high school career. Ms. Cantine was to officially retire; this was her last month at school. I knew she had contemplated it, but I never in my wildest dreams imagined it happening. I cried that night as I thought about how my senior year would play out without her there to guide me.
Through my sadness I was tranquil. I knew she had given me the tools I needed to truly succeed under the bright lights. Now every time I turn on the television to NBC at ten thirty on a Saturday night I can feel her sitting there beside me, nodding in pure sanction. This is where I belong.