I assume you are looking for someone different. You have most likely been bombarded with countless boasts of diversity, claims of distinction, and brags of eclecticism. You have probably read innumerable essays of applicants preaching that they are a pear in the basket of apples you are forced to choose from. In fact, I am prepared to wager that you have read several essays similar to mine explaining how other essays are redundant. I am prepared to go all-in on the chance that you have probably read multiple essays that make the same points as mine and then continue to elaborate on how other essays elaborate that other essays are redundant. However, I am not here to gamble or make an endless circular argument; instead, I am here to explain that I am not a pear in a basket of apples. I am much more than that.
I am a banana in a basket of apples.
You may find it ironic that I have introduced myself in the exact manner I have condemned. You may find me to be hypocritical or maybe a little sassy. However, there is one great distinction that you must be aware of: I am literally a banana.
I'm skinny, I'm yellow, I'm mushy, and I look relatively goofy as far as fruits go, but trust me; I have more than sugary and viscous goo contained underneath my leathery peel. I'm a banana with attitude, an herbaceous fruit that you will find sticks out from the pile of fruit you have collected. Let me explain visually.
I realize you have found a few interesting pears in the basket of dull apples that you are judging this college application season. I challenge you to gather all of the firm pears you have found and put them in a basket. Now take me, a banana, and gently lay me on top of the semester's harvest. You will see instantly that I am a vibrant flash of gold in what is now seemingly a sea of greenish-brown. The pears will look around confused and wonder why they are now the norm, whereas I will feel like I have felt all my life: a goofy-looking fruit in a strange place at the right time, and loving it. I embrace my yellow mushiness, as no matter what fruits are in my company, I am consistently the most yellow and the mushiest.
Perhaps you are wondering why the physical appearance of a banana is relevant at all, and what exactly a banana can contribute to a college community. To answer these queries, I must stray from my outward beauty and delve into my true personality as a banana.
Like most bananas, I am foreign, born and grown in some distant agricultural field and imported here for reasons related to convenience and business. The agriculture was not Latin American, however, but Austrian, and though this is a testament to my extraordinary ability to adapt, it is mainly significant for another reason: I, like other bananas, have developed unique perceptions of the culture surrounding us. Apples and pears, being typically grown on American soil, have been grown with the fertilizer of American ideals and are thus ripened with such influence. For example, reach into your pile of apples and pears and select one arbitrarily. Present it a glass of water filled to the midway point. Now, ask it the age-old question: is the glass half empty or half full? You will probably get responses such as "half empty" or possibly even "half full." However, ask the same question to me, a banana, and I will tell you that this glass is simply of an inefficient size for the amount of water poured in, and that you must invest in more water or in a smaller vessel in order to achieve maximum productive efficiency. Perhaps this is not the answer you were looking for; perhaps you wanted to know whether the banana was an optimist, or perhaps this was just a poorly-worded question to find how much water was in the glass. Nevertheless, it is an answer that any pourer of water can appreciate, as it is insightful, enlightening, and simply different. Apples and pears have had this question ingrained in their culture, thus they give an answer dictated by the culture in their fibers. We bananas, exotic as we are, have not heard this question in our foreign language; therefore, we do not draw from the American standard. We create with the nutrients of our country's soil, and your institution will appreciate the unique ideas we can generate.
I am sure at this point you are wondering: do not most tropical fruit have a similar perception of the world, as they are foreign as well? You have probably read of many pomegranates and lychees as well, and you have most likely read of all the benefits that their cultural origin may have. However, bananas such as I have something else.
Being a ripening banana, I've talked to a lot of other fruit in my early years. In the green phase of my life, my best friend was an orange, and it was through this relationship I realized my great potential as a banana. As most fruits know, oranges are fantastic producers of vitamin C. Later in my life, I met a lemon, and upon our acquaintance I discovered that he was also an exceptional producer of vitamin C. I recently chatted with a grapefruit: a similar story. Guava. Kiwi. Apples. Pears. All my friends shared one thing: vitamin C. Through these relationships, I searched within myself, and I discovered what I truly was; a source of potassium. Indeed, one could argue that vitamin C is more important than potassium, as a lack of potassium does not increase risk of scurvy, but that would be missing the point. All the other fruits were producing the same thing, whereas I had my own niche: a mineral with a minimal daily recommended amount but a packed punch waiting to be unleashed. I have some ascorbic acid, sure, but more importantly I have the electrolytes that will fire up the nerves of your institution.
Here's the truth; it's hard to overdose on vitamin C. An apple or a pear will do great at your institution, and either one is certainly a safe bet. I don't keep the doctors away like apples do. In fact, becoming a doctor is a goal of mine. Many people also prefer the taste of pears over bananas, and I respect that. Nevertheless, I must make one last comparison: an apple can write an essay about all the clubs and baskets it's been a part of, and a pear can recount a profound tale of falling from the tree; a lychee can write about the cultural difficulty of being imported, and a kiwi can boast of its healthy vitamins; however, one must truly, from the heart to the soul, be a banana to write an essay about being a banana, and I am proud of every last fiber of this circular argument.