Marvelous!

Smooth, easy, logical flow of the story. Clear, pervasive, emotionally written moral. Unity of style and expression. Appealing to the imperfection everyone experiences and the disheartening struggle against it, with an immensely satisfying conclusion. A trillion times better.

If I were the one writing it, the only thing I would change is to bring out the qualities you learned and make them sound more important to the experience. Probably, you could accomplish this with a little tweaking of word choice.

gab"With a writing like this you hardly need to brag"by

> This one is a trillion times better than my first. So, yet another first draft for the essay I truly will send in.
>
> (500 word limit... question: Indicate a person who has had a significant influence on you, and describe that influence.)
>
> "I'm not as good at math as Brent is," I mumbled to my Algebra teacher on the first
> day of seventh grade.
> "That's fine," she responded.
> I knew better. I knew that for the rest of my life everyone would compare me to my
> older brother, and that, unless I was just as good as he, I would lose every time.
> During that year, and many years to follow, I tried desperately to live up to my
> genius older brother. I longed to be my own person, appreciated for who I was, so I threw
> myself recklessly into theater, National History Day, my numerous friends - and yet I still
> felt insignificant.
> I never realized that the competition was both one-sided and ignored by the rest of
> the world. I was the only one who cared.
> My sophomore year was the year of Brent's 1600 on the SAT, the year in which I
> was only chosen as an understudy in the school play. Everyone respected Brent - I was just
> liked. I wasn't good enough. I hated my brother, and I hated myself for hating him.
> I forget exactly how he found out and exactly when it happened, but I can still point
> out exactly where we were on Western Avenue. My beloved older brother, my role model,
> the person I had spent most of my life wanting to be, explained to me the guilt he felt over
> my fear of inferiority.
> And he cried.
> It was at that moment that my healing truly began. I didn't even feel it happening - I
> only knew it had happened at all when I received my SAT scores. Not a 1600, but I wasn't
> at all jealous - in fact, I was ecstatic.
> In the year before Brent left for college, he became my best friend. We laughed hard
> enough together to make up for years of resentment. I suddenly discovered that my older
> brother gave better advice than anyone else I knew - not only was he sensible about things,
> he also understood me when no one else could. I longed to go back so that I could have
> learned to both love and like my brother before he was almost gone.
> However, I did improve from the years of living in Brent's shadow. In driving
> myself to succeed, I gained determination and competitiveness that have pushed me when
> everything else has failed. When I realized that I would never be exceptional in math or
> science, I found my own interests and excelled in those. Many of these are things I still
> enjoy, even more so now that I do them for my own fulfillment.
> My big brother is still my role model, but I no longer hope to copy his academic
> prowess. I now strive for his patience and his thoughtfulness, both things I know I am
> capable of. If I'm lucky, someday I might even learn his knack for naming stuffed animals.
>