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EDITORIAL: The DARE program continues to make our community better

Jun. 9—"You shouldn't bully people, it can hurt them, especially if you do it physically, but emotionally isn't any better. Some people even commit suicide because of bullying. Treat others the way you would like to be treated because I know you wouldn't want to be hurt by someone."

Those wise and important words were written by Sarah Kate Tidwell of Tunnel Hill Elementary, who had the winning essay for 2021 in the DARE essay contest, judged best out of approximately 1,000 essays written by fifth-graders from 13 Whitfield County schools. The complete essay is reprinted in today's newspaper. It is worth your time.

DARE stands for Drug Abuse Resistance Education but it might just as easily stand for dare to be different, to do the right things, because that is what the DARE program has been promoting for all these many years to our area's youth.

"I have a little brother and I want to show him the best role model I can be because I want him to make good choices," Shayla Williams of Varnell Elementary wrote in the 2020 winning DARE essay. "I've also learned that you have to choose your friends wisely because some of the things they do can be dangerous or their decisions they make are bad and they can peer pressure you to do things that you don't want to do like smoking, doing drugs, drinking or being mean to other people. Life is all about making good decisions, when we make bad decisions it can lead to bad situations like going to jail or, worse, prison."

It is clear these youngsters have learned valuable lessons through the DARE program. That is a great thing. It all contributes to a better community, a better society, a better place for us to live and work and enjoy our country's freedoms.

We commend these students and the others honored during the annual DARE essay recognition program sponsored by the Whitfield County Sheriff's Office and the Kiwanis Club of Dalton that was held at the Dalton Convention Center. There were also second and third place students recognized as well as individual winners from each school.

We also commend the men and women of the DARE program who provide these valuable life lessons to the students. Sheriff Scott Chitwood said in 2019 that since its inception in 1989, the DARE program was "knocking on the door" of reaching 30,000 students during the past 30 years, and now many more have been reached.

That is a wonderful achievement.

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Eliher Gonzalez-Favila reads her winning essay during the annual DARE recognition program on May 16.

• Mitch Talley

Winners from 13 Whitfield County elementary schools were recognized during the Kiwanis Club of Dalton’s annual DARE essay recognition program on May 16. From left, front row, are Miley Farmer, Emiliano Barragan, Elsa Gewecke, Zaira Mejia, Savannah Merrell, Sophie Lofty, Ariana Munguia, Eliher Gonzalez-Favila, Brooklyn Anderson and Malaki McCullough; back row, Tammy Silvers, Ron Kirby, Nathan Center and Vincent Schaub of the DARE program and Bert Poston of the Kiwanis Club. Not pictured are DARE honorees Emmaleigh Dover, Kaylee De Leon and Lyla Beckler.

Edwin Hernandez, a 2022 graduate of Southeast Whitfield High School who has joined the U.S. Army, won the DARE essay contest in 2015 as an Eastside Elementary fifth-grader. He returned this year to address the 2022 essay winners and offer them his thoughts about the value of the program.

Valley Point fifth-grader wins Whitfield DARE essay contest

• By Mitch Talley Whitfield County Director of Communications
• May 27, 2022

Eliher Gonzalez-Favila says she plans to use the knowledge she picked up in the DARE program this year to avoid doing something she’ll regret later.

That’s how the fifth-grader at Valley Point Elementary summed up her Drug Abuse Resistance Education essay, which was judged best out of the hundreds written by this year’s DARE graduates from all 13 elementary schools in Whitfield County.

Gonzalez-Favila and the other 12 essay winners from each school were honored at the 17th annual DARE recognition program held May 16 at the Dalton Convention Center, sponsored by the Kiwanis Club of Dalton and the Whitfield County Sheriff’s Office.

As first-place winner, Gonzalez-Favila received a plaque and a $100 cash prize. Savannah Merrell of Pleasant Grove Elementary earned a plaque and $50 for second place, while a plaque and $20 went to Malaki McCullough of Beaverdale Elementary for third place.

Each year, the 11-week-long DARE program teaches the fundamentals of the consequences of drug abuse, peer pressure and more life skills to hundreds of local fifth-graders, program director Lt. Tammy Silvers said.

“Basically, every week in class we’re talking about making good decisions and how important it is to make those good decisions,” Silvers said, praising the 13 essay winners for their efforts. “You are the cream of the crop — you are the best of the best. You’ve accomplished something only 13 students in Whitfield County schools have accomplished this year, and we’re very proud of you.”

The Kiwanis Club’s Bert Poston, emcee of the program who also serves as local district attorney, praised the support of the parents and school officials for making the DARE program a success every year.

“As important as it is to learn facts,” Poston said, “it’s equally important to learn how to express yourself and how to write and how to speak and how to share that knowledge with others, so one thing we really love about this program and about the DARE essay is that you’ve got 13 kids who have shown exceptional knowledge but also exceptional ability to communicate.”

Other school-level winners who were recognized during the program — with family, school officials and Kiwanians looking on — included:

• Antioch: Emmaleigh Dover

• Cedar Ridge: Zaira Mejia

• Cohutta: Miley Farmer

• Dawnville: Kaylee De Leon

• Dug Gap: Brooklyn Anderson

• Eastside: Ariana Munguia

• New Hope: Sophie Lofty

• Tunnel Hill: Lyla Beckler

• Varnell: Emiliano Barragan

• Westside: Elsa Gewecke

A special treat during the program was the return of Edwin Hernandez, who won the essay contest in 2015 as a fifth-grader at Eastside Elementary. He’s now a member of the United States Army and will be graduating this year as an honors student from Southeast Whitfield High School.

“Even though a lot of time has passed since I’ve completed the program,” Hernandez said, “I like to think that the core beliefs of DARE have stuck with me and have influenced my decisions, and I want you kids here today to try to apply them to yourselves as well.”

Besides learning to say no to drugs and alcohol, Hernandez said a third important result of the program for him was learning how to trust smartly.

“In this world not everyone who says they’re your friend will really mean it,” he said. “That even goes for people in your family. Now I’m not saying that you can’t trust no one, or that you have to be suspicious of everyone you meet or have ever met, but I am saying that you have to pay close attention to who you lend your trust to. If someone you know has ever offered you something, or tried to convince you to do something you knew wasn’t right, odds are that someone doesn’t consider your well-being as a top priority. and these aren’t some empty words, I’ve seen them play out more times than I can remember.”

Hernandez pointed to an example of a friend who missed much of his senior year because he accepted some marijuana-laced gummy bears from a “shady” acquaintance before a football game.

“Because it was marijuana, the police got involved,” Hernandez said. “Luckily, my bandmate wasn’t sentenced to jail time, but he was still forced to spend the rest of his first semester, and most of his second semester, at Crossroads. and since this went on his permanent record, some of his friends viewed him as a fool, a criminal, and cut him out of their lives.”

Hernandez said his friend told him the worst part about the incident wasn’t the stain on his record but the feeling of betrayal he had from someone he trusted.

“So take it from me, take it on account of my bandmate, be smart about who you trust, and pay close attention to those around you,” Hernandez told the students, “because not everyone around who you call friend is who they say they are.”

The winning essay by Eliher Gonzalez-Favila

Today I would like to talk about six things I learned in DARE, why I think they’re the most important, how I stay safe, and why I avoid some of them. Those topics are reporting bullying, stress, alcohol and tobacco, help network and the DARE Decision Making Model (DDMM).

First of all, let me talk about bullying. Nationwide, 20% of students ages 12-18 have experienced or are experiencing bullying. To stop this problem, DARE clearly showed me how to report bullying in a safe way. First of all, we have to learn the 5 W’s. Who: Who’s being bullied? What: What’s happening? Where: Where is this happening? Finally, why: Why is this happening? The 5 W’s will make it easier for us to report bullying. We can report bullying by telling a trusted adult, a friend, or reporting it to the DARE box. If we don’t report bullying as soon as possible, the victim could feel useless, could develop anxiety, depression, and probably commit suicide.

Next, I’d like to talk about stress. Stress can be caused by a lot of stuff: bullying, overthinking about something, any type of problems, a test, etc., etc. You might not think about the consequences of not calming down in a stressful situation, but they’re not satisfying. Two examples of bad consequences are tobacco and alcohol addiction (which I’ll talk about later). Just think about it, there’s no need to find a solution in tobacco or alcohol. Some things I do to calm down in a stressful situation are listening to music, talk with someone, laugh, write, change the subject, and going to sleep. You can also use these strategies, or you can use whatever makes you calm.

Now, I would like to talk about alcohol and tobacco. Alcohol is illegal for people under the age of 21. Before, tobacco was illegal for people under 18-19, but now, the law has been changed. People under 21 cannot consume tobacco. As you know, a lot of people under those ages still consume those products. A lot of people consume alcohol and/or tobacco because they think they’re “cool” or just to “impress” others. Others do it to “solve” their problems. The thing is, most of them don’t know what goes on with their body when they consume those products. They don’t know that they could die. The DARE book says, “There are 75,000 alcohol-related deaths each year in the U.S.” From tobacco, we can count 450,000 deaths each year: 400,000 for the people that smoke, and 50,000 for the people that are around the smokers. Smokers might not know that if they do this daily they will have dental problems, memory loss, loss of self-control, a heart disease, unhealthy bodies, a coma, and lastly … death. Please, I beg y’all, never smoke or drink alcohol. It’s not worth it.

Now, what I think is the most important thing I learned in DARE is help network. Our help network can be composed by a trusted adult, friend, sibling, or even our pet. Our help network can help us with anything we need. I learned that if we have a loyal and trusted help network, we wouldn’t face all or most of the problems I mentioned earlier. If we’re being bullied, we can ask someone from our help network to help us. If we feel stressed, we can talk with someone from our help network. If we have problems with tobacco and/or alcohol, we can ask someone who we trust to help us get out of that situation.

Lastly, the DARE Decision Making Model (DDMM). DARE stands for Define: Describe the problem. Assess: What are our choices. Respond: Make a choice. Lastly, Evaluate: Did we make a good choice. I feel like if we know what it means, we would be able to quickly find the problem and quickly find the solution. This, like the help network, will help us prevent most or all of the problems I mentioned above.

To summarize, what I think are the most important things I learned while being in DARE were reporting bullying, stress, alcohol and tobacco, help network and the DARE Decision Making Model (DDMM). I always try to avoid everything except help network and DDMM to stay safe, and to make sure I’m not doing anything I’ll regret later.

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DARE essay winners recognized

July 2, 2022

The annual fifth-grade DARE graduation celebration took place at all three elementary schools in the Highland district prior to the end of the school year, with a total of 258 graduates combined.

Each school also announced its winners of the DARE essay contest during their program. Again this year, the contest focused on writing a letter to their older self, explaining what they learned in DARE, and some even reminded their older self to live a drug-free life and make good choices. The winning essays were read aloud and each winner was presented with a certificate. 

The essay winners include:

• Colleen Rees, Sarah Mellinger (overall winner), Olivia Martello, Tristan Lind, Katelyn O’Flanagan and Lily McManus at Granger Elementary
• Sharon Winners: Miles Miller, Kaylee Reep, Camarie Carter, Aubrey Payne (overall winner), Amelia Price, Brynn Vandegrift, Aaron Davis and Jordan Gryskiewicz at Sharon Elementary
• Reese McPherson, Saphira Melnik, Ellia Whitacre, Max Marcum (overall winner), Logan Conrad, Alicia Grimes, and Eliana Profant at Hinckley Elementary. ∞

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The Winners of Our Personal Narrative Essay Contest

We asked students to write about a meaningful life experience. Here are the eight winning essays, as well as runners-up and honorable mentions.

By The Learning Network

Update: Join our live webinar on Oct. 8 about teaching with our Narrative Writing Contest.

In September, we challenged teenagers to write short, powerful stories about meaningful life experiences for our first-ever personal narrative essay contest .

This contest, like every new contest we start, was admittedly a bit of an experiment. Beyond a caution to write no more than 600 words, our rules were fairly open-ended, and we weren’t sure what we would get.

Well, we received over 8,000 entries from teenagers from around the world. We got stories about scoring the winning goal, losing a grandparent, learning to love one’s skin and dealing with mental illness. We got pieces that were moving, funny, introspective and honest. We got a snapshot of teenage life.

Judging a contest like this is, of course, subjective, especially with the range of content and styles of writing students submitted. But we based our criteria on the types of personal narrative essays The New York Times publishes in columns like Lives , Modern Love and Rites of Passage . We read many, many essays that were primarily reflective but, while these pieces might be well-suited for a college application, they weren’t exactly the short, powerful stories we were looking for in this contest.

The winning essays we selected were, though, and they all had a few things in common that set them apart:

They had a clear narrative arc with a conflict and a main character who changed in some way. They artfully balanced the action of the story with reflection on what it meant to the writer. They took risks, like including dialogue or playing with punctuation, sentence structure and word choice to develop a strong voice. And, perhaps most important, they focused on a specific moment or theme — a conversation, a trip to the mall, a speech tournament, a hospital visit — instead of trying to sum up the writer’s life in 600 words.

Below, you’ll find these eight winning essays, published in full. Scroll to the bottom to see the names of all 35 finalists we’re honoring — eight winners, eight runners-up and 19 honorable mentions. Congratulations, and thank you to everyone who participated!

The Winning Essays

Nothing extraordinary, pants on fire, eggs and sausage, first impressions, cracks in the pavement, sorry, wrong number, the man box.

By Jeniffer Kim

It was a Saturday. Whether it was sunny or cloudy, hot or cold, I cannot remember, but I do remember it was a Saturday because the mall was packed with people.

I was with my mom.

Mom is short. Skinny. It is easy to overlook her in a crowd simply because she is nothing extraordinary to see.

On that day we strolled down the slippery-slick tiles with soft, inconspicuous steps, peeking at window boutiques in fleeting glances because we both knew we wouldn’t be buying much, like always.

I remember I was looking up at the people we passed as we walked — at first apathetically, but then more attentively.

Ladies wore five-inch heels that clicked importantly on the floor and bright, elaborate clothing. Men strode by smelling of sharp cologne, faces clear of wrinkles — wiped away with expensive creams.

An uneasy feeling started to settle in my chest. I tried to push it out, but once it took root it refused to be yanked up and tossed away. It got more unbearable with every second until I could deny it no longer; I was ashamed of my mother.

We were in a high-class neighborhood, I knew that. We lived in a small, overpriced apartment building that hung on to the edge of our county that Mom chose to move to because she knew the schools were good.

We were in a high-class neighborhood, but as I scrutinized the passers-by and then turned accusing eyes on Mom, I realized for the first time that we didn’t belong there.

I could see the heavy lines around Mom’s eyes and mouth, etched deep into her skin without luxurious lotions to ease them away. She wore cheap, ragged clothes with the seams torn, shoes with the soles worn down. Her eyes were tired from working long hours to make ends meet and her hair too gray for her age.

I looked at her, and I was ashamed.

My mom is nothing extraordinary, yet at that moment she stood out because she was just so plain.

Mumbling I’d meet her at the clothes outlet around the corner, I hurried away to the bathroom. I didn’t want to be seen with her, although there was no one important around to see me anyway.

When I finally made my way to the outlet with grudging steps, I found that Mom wasn’t there.

With no other options, I had to scour the other stores in the area for her. I was dreading returning to her side, already feeling the secondhand embarrassment that I’d recently discovered came with being with her.

I couldn’t have been more wrong. Mom was standing in the middle of a high-end store, holding a sweater that looked much too expensive.

She said, “This will look good on you. Do you want it?”

It was much too expensive. And I almost agreed, carelessly, thoughtlessly.

Then I took a closer look at the small, weary woman with a big smile stretching across her narrow face and a sweater in her hands, happy to be giving me something so nice, and my words died in my throat.

I felt like I’d been dropped into a cold lake.

Her clothes were tattered and old because she spent her money buying me new ones. She looked so tired and ragged all the time because she was busy working to provide for me. She didn’t wear jewelry or scented perfumes because she was just content with me.

Suddenly, Mother was beautiful and extraordinarily wonderful in my eyes.

I was no longer ashamed of her, but of myself.

“Do you want it?” My mom repeated.

“No thanks.”

By Varya Kluev

I never kissed the boy I liked behind the schoolyard fence that one March morning. I never had dinner with Katy Perry or lived in Kiev for two months either, but I still told my entire fourth-grade class I did.

The words slipped through my teeth effortlessly. With one flick of my tongue, I was, for all anybody knew, twenty-third in line for the throne of Monaco. “Actually?” the girls on the swings beside me would ask, wide eyes blinking with a childlike naivety. I nodded as they whispered under their breath how incredible my fable was. So incredible they bought into it without a second thought.

I lied purely for the ecstasy of it. It was narcotic. With my fabrications, I became the captain of the ship, not just a wistful passer-by, breath fogging the pane of glass that stood between me and the girls I venerated. No longer could I only see, not touch; a lie was a bullet, and the barrier shattered. My mere presence demanded attention — after all, I was the one who got a valentine from Jason, not them.

This way I became more than just the tomboyish band geek who finished her multiplication tables embarrassingly fast. My name tumbled out of their mouths and I manifested in the center of their linoleum lunch table. I became, at least temporarily, the fulcrum their world revolved around.

Not only did I lie religiously and unabashedly — I was good at it. The tedium of my everyday life vanished; I instead marched through the gates of my alcazar, strode up the steps of my concepts, and resided in my throne of deceit. I believed if I took off my fraudulent robe, I would become plebeian. The same aristocracy that finally held me in high regard would boot me out of my palace. To strip naked and exclaim, “Here’s the real me, take a look!” would lead my new circle to redraw their lines — they would take back their compliments, sit at the table with six seats instead of eight, giggle in the back of the class when I asked a question. I therefore adjusted my counterfeit diadem and continued to praise a Broadway show I had never seen.

Yet finally lounging in a lavender bedroom one long-sought-after day, after absently digesting chatter about shows I didn’t watch and boys I didn’t know, I started processing the floating conversations. One girl, who I had idolized for always having her heavy hair perfectly curled, casually shared how her parents couldn’t afford to go on their yearly trip the coming summer. I drew in an expectant breath, but nobody scoffed. Nobody exchanged a secret criticizing glance. Instead, another girl took her spoon of vanilla frosting out of her cheek and with the same air of indifference revealed how her family wasn’t traveling either. Promptly, my spun stories about swimming in crystal pools under Moroccan sun seemed to be in vain.

The following Monday, the girls on the bus to school still shared handfuls of chocolate-coated sunflower seeds with her. At lunch, she wasn’t shunned, wasn’t compelled to sit at a forgotten corner table. For that hour, instead of weaving incessant fantasies, I listened. I listened to the girls nonchalantly talk about yesterday’s soccer game where they couldn’t score a single goal. Listened about their parent’s layoff they couldn’t yet understand the significance of. I listened and I watched them listen, accepting and uncritical of one another no matter how relatively vapid their story. I then too began to talk, beginning by admitting that I wasn’t actually related to Britney Spears.

By Ryan Young Kim

When first I sat down in the small, pathetic excuse of a cafeteria the hospital had, I took a moment to reflect. I had been admitted the night before, rolled in on a stretcher like I had some sort of ailment that prevented me from walking.

But the nurses in the ward were nice to me, especially when they saw that I wasn’t going to be one of the violent ones. They started telling me something, but I paid no attention; I was trying to take in my surroundings. The tables were rounded, chairs were essentially plastic boxes with weight inside, and there was no real glass to be seen.

After they filled out the paperwork, the nurses escorted me to my room. There was someone already in there, but he was dead asleep. The two beds were plain and simple, with a cheap mattress on top of an equally cheap wooden frame. One nurse stuck around to hand me my bedsheets and a gown that I had to wear until my parents dropped off clothes.

The day had been exhausting, waiting for the psychiatric ward to tell us that there was a bed open for me and the doctors to fill out the mountains of paperwork that come with a suicide attempt.

Actually, there had been one good thing about that day. My parents had brought me Korean food for lunch — sullungtang , a fatty stew made from ox-bone broth. God, even when I was falling asleep I could still taste some of the rice kernels that had been mixed into the soup lingering around in my mouth.

For the first time, I felt genuine hunger. My mind had always been racked with a different kind of hunger — a pining for attention or just an escape from the toil of waking up and not feeling anything. But I always had everything I needed — that is, I always had food on my plate, maybe even a little too much. Now, after I had tried so hard to wrench myself away from this world, my basic human instinct was guiding me toward something that would keep me alive.

The irony was lost on me then. All I knew was that if I slept earlier, that meant less time awake being hungry. So I did exactly that. Waking up the next day, I was dismayed to see that the pangs of hunger still rumbled through my stomach. I slid off my covers and shuffled out of my room. The cafeteria door was already open, and I looked inside. There was a cart of Styrofoam containers in the middle of the room, and a couple people were eating quietly. I made my way in and stared.

I scanned the tops of the containers — they were all marked with names: Jonathan, Nathan, Kristen — and as soon as I spotted my name, my mouth began to water.

My dad would sometimes tell me about his childhood in a rural Korean village. The hardships he faced, the hunger that would come if the village harvest floundered, and how he worked so hard to get out — I never listened. But in that moment, between when I saw my container and I sat down at a seat to open it, I understood.

The eggs inside were watery, and their heat had condensated water all over, dripping onto everything and making the sausages soggy. The amount of ketchup was pitiful.

But if I hadn’t been given plastic utensils, I think I would have just shoved it all into my mouth, handful by handful.

By Isabel Hui

When I woke up on August 4, 2016, there was only one thing on my mind: what to wear. A billion thoughts raced through my brain as wooden hangers shuffled back and forth in the cramped hotel closet. I didn’t want to come off as a try-hard, but I also didn’t want to be seen as a slob. Not only was it my first day of high school, but it was my first day of school in a new state; first impressions are everything, and it was imperative for me to impress the people who I would spend the next four years with. For the first time in my life, I thought about how convenient it would be to wear the horrendous matching plaid skirts that private schools enforce.

It wasn’t insecurity driving me to madness; I was actually quite confident for a teenage girl. It was the fact that this was my third time being the new kid. Moving so many times does something to a child’s development … I struggled finding friends that I could trust would be there for me if I picked up and left again. But this time was different because my dad’s company ensured that I would start and finish high school in the same place. This meant no instant do-overs when I pick up and leave again. This time mattered, and that made me nervous.

After meticulously raiding my closet, I emerged proudly in a patterned dress from Target. The soft cotton was comfortable, and the ruffle shoulders added a hint of fun. Yes, this outfit was the one. An hour later, I felt just as powerful as I stepped off the bus and headed toward room 1136. But as I turned the corner into my first class, my jaw dropped to the floor.

Sitting at her desk was Mrs. Hutfilz, my English teacher, sporting the exact same dress as I. I kept my head down and tiptoed to my seat, but the first day meant introductions in front of the whole class, and soon enough it was my turn. I made it through my minute speech unscathed, until Mrs. Hutfilz stood up, jokingly adding that she liked my style. Although this was the moment I had been dreading from the moment I walked in, all the anxiety that had accumulated throughout the morning surprisingly melted away; the students who had previously been staring at their phones raised their heads to pay attention as I shared my story. My smile grew as I giggled with my peers, ending my speech with “and I am very stylish, much like my first period teacher.” After class, I stayed behind and talked to Mrs. Hutfilz, sharing my previous apprehension about coming into a new school and state. I was relieved to make a humorous and genuine connection with my first teacher, one that would continue for the remainder of the year.

This incident reminded me that it’s only high school; these are the times to have fun, work hard, and make memories, not stress about the trivial details. Looking back four years later, the ten minutes I spent dreading my speech were really not worth it. While my first period of high school may not have gone exactly the way I thought it would, it certainly made the day unforgettable in the best way, and taught me that Mrs. Hutfilz has an awesome sense of style!

By Adam Bernard Sanders

It was my third time sitting there on the middle school auditorium stage. The upper chain of braces was caught in my lip again, and my palms were sweating, and my glasses were sliding down my nose. The pencil quivered in my hands. All I had to do was answer whatever question Mrs. Crisafulli, the history teacher, was going to say into that microphone. I had answered 26 before that, and 25 of those correctly. And I was sitting in my chair, and I was tapping my foot, and the old polo shirt I was wearing was starting to constrict and choke me. I pulled pointlessly at the collar, but the air was still on the outside, only looking at the inside of my throat. I was going to die.

I could taste my tongue in my mouth shriveling up. I could feel each hard-pumping heartbeat of blood travel out of my chest, up through my neck and down my arms and legs, warming my already-perspiring forehead but leaving my ghost-white fingers cold and blue. My breathing was quick. My eyes were glassy. I hadn’t even heard the question yet.

Late-night readings of my parents’ anatomy textbooks had told me that a sense of impending doom was the hallmark of pulmonary embolism, a fact that often bubbled to the surface of my mind in times like these. Almost by instinct, I bent my ring and little fingers down, holding them with my thumb as the two remaining digits whipped to my right wrist and tried to take my pulse. Mr. Mendoza had taught us this last year in gym class. But I wasn’t in gym class that third period. I was just sitting on the metal folding chair, waiting for Mrs. Crisafulli to flip to the right page in her packet for the question.

Arabella had quizzed me in second-period French on the lakes of Latin America. Nicaragua. Atitlán. Yojoa. Lake Titicaca, that had made Raj, who sat in front of me, start giggling, and Shannon, who sat three desks up and one to the left, whip her head around and raise one fist to her lips, jab up her index finger, and silence us. Lakes were fed by rivers, the same rivers that lined the globe on my desk like the cracks in the pavement I liked to trace with my shoe on the walk home. Lake Nicaragua drains into the San Juan River, which snakes its way around the port of Granada to empty into the Caribbean Sea. I knew that.

At that moment I was only sure of those two things: the location of Lake Nicaragua and my own impending doom. And I was so busy counting my pulse and envisioning my demise that I missed Mrs. Crisafulli’s utterance of the awaited question into her microphone, as I had each year in the past as one of the two people left onstage.

“ … Coldest … on earth,” was all I heard. My pencil etched shaggy marks as my shaking hands attempted to write something in the 20 seconds remaining.

“Asia,” I scrawled.

So, for the third time in three years, I got it wrong, and for the third time, I didn’t die. I walked home that day, tracing the faults in the pavement and wondering what inside me was so cracked and broken. Something had to be fissured inside, like the ridges and rivers on my desk globe that I would throw out later that evening, but fish from the trash can when the sun rose the next day.

By Michelle Ahn

My phone buzzes. An unfamiliar number with a 512 area code — I later find out it’s from Texas. It’s a selfie of a 30-something man, smiling with his family, a strange picture to receive as I live halfway across the country.

For the past three years, I — a 14-year-old girl living in Virginia — have been getting texts meant for this man, Jared. Over the years, I’ve pieced together parts of who he is; middle-aged, Caucasian, and very popular according to the numerous messages I’ve received for him.

Throughout this time, I’ve also been discovering who I am. When I received the first text, I was a playful sixth grader, always finding sly ways to be subversive in school and with friends. With this new method of mischief in my hands, naturally, I engaged:

“My sweet momma just told me that BYU Texas Club is holding a Texas Roundup free BBQ dinner on October 10th! Thought y’all would enjoy,” came one of the texts.

After staring at the message for a while, I responded.

As time went on, the story of the mystery man deepened. I was halfway through sixth grade, for example, when I learned he was part of the “Elder’s Quorum,” a rather ominous-sounding group. Looking it up, I learned that it was not a cult, as I’d initially thought, but rather an elite inner circle within the Mormon Church.

This was around the same time my family had stopped going to church. I’d started to spend more time taking art classes and trying out various sports — tennis, basketball, even archery — and soon church fell to the side. Instead, I meddled in the Quorum’s group texts; when a message came about a member moving away, I excitedly responded, “Let me help y’all out, brother!”

I’m not sure exactly when it happened, but after a while I started to feel guilty about this deception. I wondered if I’d somehow ruined Jared’s reputation, if his friends were turned off by my childish responses. I was also dealing with changes within my friend group at the time; the biggest change being letting go of a close but toxic friend; I realized that I needed friendships that were more mutually supportive.

Shortly after, I got a phone call from a strange woman. She started talking about the struggles in her life; her children, her job, even about how she wanted to leave Texas forever. In comparison, my own problems — the B minus I’d gotten, the stress of an upcoming archery tournament, the argument I had with my sister — all seemed superficial. I timidly informed her I wasn’t Jared, and her flustered response told me that I should have told her at the start of the call.

A while later, I got another text: “Congratulations on getting married!” It had never occurred to me how much Jared’s life had changed since I had received his number. But of course it did; over time, I’d outgrown my prankster middle school self, gained the confidence to build a solid friend group, and devoted myself to my primary loves of art and archery. Why wouldn’t Jared also be settling into his own life too?

Though I’ve since taken every opportunity to correct those who text Jared, it still happens every once in a while. Just last month, I got another random text; all it said was: “Endoscopy!” When I got it, I laughed, and then I wrote back.

“Hey, sorry, you have the wrong number. But I hope Jared’s doing well.”

By Maria Fernanda Benavides

“Mayfier? Marfir?” the tournament judge called squinting her eyes, trying to find the spelling error, although there was no error.

“It’s Mafer. It’s a nickname for my full name, Maria Fernanda.”

She stared at me blankly.

“My parents are creative,” I lied, and she laughed.

“O.K., Mahfeer, you’re up!”

I walk to the center and scanned the room before starting as instructed. I took a deep breath.

I reminded myself, “Use your voice.”

I spoke loudly at first, trying to hide the fact that I was overthinking every single word that came out of my mouth. As my performance continued, the artificial confidence became natural, and I started speaking from my heart as I told the story of my experience as an immigrant woman, and I described how much I missed my father who had to travel back and forth every weekend to see my mom and me, and how disconnected I felt from my family, and how I longed to have a place I could call home.

My performance came to an end, and I made my way back to my seat with newly found optimism as I reflected on how performing had consumed me.

I used my voice. Finally. I had found my home in the speech program.

Waiting for the speech tournament to post the names of the finalists was excruciating. I jumped off my seat every time a staff member passed by. I didn’t care about accumulating state points or individual recognition. I wanted the chance to speak again.

Finally, a girl walked up to the oratory postings with a paper on her hand, and the entire cafeteria surrounded her, impatiently waiting to see who the finalists were. Then, I saw it.

My name. Written in dense, black letters.

I smiled to myself.

This time, as I walked to the oratory final, I did so by myself, as I had finally acquired self-assurance needed to navigate the quiet hallways of the high school. I could only hear the heels of the two girls behind me.

“I heard that Saint Mary’s Hall freshman made it to oratory finals,” one of them said, obviously speaking about me. “She broke over me. I didn’t see her performance. Did you? Did you see her performance? What is her speech about?” she questioned the other one.

“It’s about being a Mexican immigrant.”

“Oh, so that’s why she broke.”

“It’s the same pity narrative, there’s nothing different about it.”

Suddenly, the confidence that I had acquired from the previous rounds vanished, and I found myself wishing that I had my older, more experienced teammates by my side to help me block the girls’ words. But no one was there.

I thought my narrative was what made my words matter, what made me matter.

But they didn’t matter. Not anymore. From that moment on, I knew I would be recognized around the circuit as the Mexican girl whose name no one knows how to pronounce. I didn’t even need to speak about my identity to be identified. Everyone would recognize me not for my achievement or my being, but by the peculiar way I pronounce words. I could speak about different topics, but it felt like it wouldn’t make a difference. It felt like my voice didn’t make a difference.

“Mafer, how did it feel?” my coach asked me after the round. “It felt amazing!” I lied.

I didn’t feel anything. Not anymore. Speech gave me a voice, but it also took it away.

By Gordon Lewis

We’re all average boys: hard working in school, spending every minute together in the summer, and doing our best to pretend we don’t have a worry in the world. The facts are no different as the sun is beginning to set on a warm July evening. Sam and I say goodbye to Ben, stepping out of our best friend’s house.

“My sister is going to pick me up while we’re walking, is that O.K.?” I ask.

“Actually, she can probably drive you home, too.”

“Sounds good,” says Sam, but lacking his usual upbeat, comedic energy. Neither of us says anything else, but I’m O.K. with it, we just keep walking. I look around, admiring the still, peaceful park as the warm summer breeze brushes across my face. The crickets are chirping and an owl sings along between the soft hum of cars rolling along nearby. It’s nature’s tune of serenity.

I almost forgot Sam was with me until he asked, “Can I ask you kind of a weird question?”

“Sure,” I say, expecting a joke in poor taste as per usual.

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” he says before asking.

More hesitantly, I say, “O.K.”

“Do you have someone that you talk to about like deeper stuff … Like more emotional stuff?” Silence hits us like a brick wall: The crickets stop chirping, the owl stops hooting, even the cars stop driving by. It’s deafening. I’m only shocked at the question because it’s Sam, one of the happiest and funniest people I know.

I’m wondering. My disappointment takes over just as quickly as my hope fades as I fail to come up with a name. In the end, the closest thing I can think of is the book I occasionally write in when I’m feeling sad or stressed.

“Huh,” I say quietly, “I’ve never really thought about that, but I guess not.”

“Yeah, I didn’t either, but at camp we did activities and had talks that led to more emotional conversations.” I’m silently both jealous and proud of him, but it’s mostly jealousy.

“It’s funny,” I say, “in English we always joked about that TED Talk guy talking about the man box, but it’s actually so true. We shouldn’t feel like we can’t talk about deeper stuff like that.”

“Yeah,” laughed Sam. Silence drapes over us again, but this time it’s more comfortable. I’m lost in my thoughts trying to think of what to say next, but there’s too much. I’ve never had an opportunity like this before. However it’s not shocking or overwhelming, even though it’s with Sam of all people — instead it’s therapeutic.

The silence is broken once again by Sam:

“Like I never told you guys that my parents got divorced.”

“I’m-I’m sorry,” I say, “That really sucks.” I’m disappointed in myself for not saying more.

“It’s O.K.,” Sam says, but I know he’s lying. I can feel his sadness.

Drowning in my thoughts, I try to pick out something to say. But there’s too much to say. There are too many options after being silent for 16 years.

Headlights appear in front of us, and for a split second I’m relieved, but it rapidly turns into regret.

Knowing it’s Rose, I quickly tell sam, “If you ever want to talk again just let me know.”

I say hi to Rose, masking my solemn, thoughtful mood as tiredness. The warm breeze gives my cheek one final kiss; nature resumes her number, and the cars roll by again as Sam and I reluctantly step into the car.

In alphabetical order by the writer’s last name

“Sorry, Wrong Number” by Michelle Ahn

“Speechless” by Maria Fernanda Benavides

“First Impressions” by Isabel Hui

“Nothing Extraordinary” by Jeniffer Kim

“Eggs and Sausage" by Ryan Young Kim

“Pants on Fire” by Varya Kluev

“The Man Box” by Gordon Lewis

“Cracks in the Pavement” by Adam Bernard Sanders

“The First (and Last) Time Speedy Wasn’t Speedy Enough” by Maya Berg

“Searching for Air” by Sydney Do

“Fear on My Mind” by Daytona Gerhardy

“Under the Starry Sky” by Letian Li

“Chinatown Diptych” by Jeffrey Liao

“They” by Haven Low

“The Vigil” by Beda Lundstedt

“How My Brother Taught Me to Drive” by Sarah Shapiro

Honorable Mentions

“The Six in Mid-August” by Liah Argiropoulos

“‘Those Aren’t Scratches Are They?’” by Casey Barwick

“Brown Is Beautiful” by Tiffany Borja

“I Am Ordinary, After All” by Rebecca Braxley

“Torn” by Melanie D.

“The Stupid Seven” by Madeline G.

“Speak No Evil” by Amita Goyal

“Building My Crown” by Ambar Guzman

“Me, Myself, and a Peanut Butter and Jelly Sandwich” by Zachary Hommel

“The Tomato” by Raymond Huang

“Out” by Michael H.

“Cold Noodles With a Side of Birdballs” by Audrey Koh

“Banya in Siberia” by Arshiya Sanghi

“Traffic” by Kecia Seo

“The Power of Ambiguity” by Marcus Shallow

“Land Mine” by Geneve Thomas-Palmer

“How to Fall Asleep With the Lights On” by Caroline Wei

“The Taste of Tofu” by Amy Zhou

“The Newcomer’s Journey” by Maria Z.

Thank you to all our contest judges!

Edward Bohan, Amanda Christy Brown, Elda Cantú, Julia Carmel, Elaine Chen, Nancy Coleman, Nicole Daniels, John Dorman, Shannon Doyne, Jeremy Engle, Tracy Evans, Ross Flatt, Vivian Giang, Caroline Crosson Gilpin, Michael Gonchar, Lovia Gyarkye, Annissa Hambouz, Karen Hanley, Christine Hauser, Susan Josephs, Shira Katz, Dahlia Kozlowsky, Megan Leder, Miya Lee, Debbie Leiderman, Shauntel Lowe, Keith Meatto, Sue Mermelstein, Amelia Nierenberg, Anna Nordeen, John Otis, Ken Paul, Pia Peterson, Natalie Proulx, Nancy Redd, Kenneth Rosen, Rebecca Rufo-Tepper, Kristina Samulewski, Meghan Stoddard, Brett Vogelsinger, Bonnie Wertheim, Jack Wheeler, Lena Wilson, Sanam Yar

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Fifth-graders' winning D.A.R.E. essays

• May 12, 2012
• May 12, 2012 Updated May 4, 2023

Winners of the Drug Abuse Resistance Education (D.A.R.E.) essay contest for Reedsburg fifth-grade students have been selected. The winners are: • Kalli Best, St. Peter’s Elementary School. • Noah Hulse, Sacred Heart Elementary School. • Devante Moreno, Pineview Elementary School. • Carter Pinten, Pineview Elementary School. Here are the students' winning essays.

Kalli Best's winning D.A.R.E. essay

Through the D.A.R.E. program, I have learned to make smart decisions regarding the use of tobacco, alcohol and drugs such as marijuana. I also learned about other unhealthy choices, such as inhalants.

I was taught about the pressures that I will potentially face from friends and even family to use these substances or to misuse legal substances. I was taught many ways to say no and to avoid the situations that put people like me in harm’s way that would force me to make a decision.

The D.A.R.E. Decision Making Model influenced me the most by showing me how to access and make the right decisions in life. Due to what I learned through the D.A.R.E. Program, I now can choose to live a safe, long and healthy life.

Since going through the D.A.R.E. program, I learned that the largest pressure to use drugs, tobacco and alcohol comes from my friends. This is called peer pressure. Being a part of a friendship foundation will help keep me in the lowest risk circles of peers and to help avoid these risks and pressures.

However, even then I know I can still face these challenges and the opportunity to use drugs, tobacco and alcohol and they may always be present. Through D.A.R.E., I was taught how to use the D.A.R.E. Decision Making Model. It will help me to make the good decisions regarding any situation or challenge that I may face regarding the use of substances or in life in general.

There are four main steps in the D.A.R.E. Decision Making Model. The first step is to define the situation by describing the problem, challenge or opportunity. Then, access the choices by gathering facts and looking at potential outcomes. Third is to respond by making a choice using the facts, information and outcomes you assessed. Finally, evaluate by reviewing the decision, asking if I make the best choice and what I could do better if faced with the decision again.

Positioning myself with a friendship foundation will lower my risk and pressure regarding the use of drugs, tobacco and alcohol. These risks do not go away; in my best conclusion from the D.A.R.E. program, the D.A.R.E. Decision Making Model will have the biggest impact on my life. This model will help me make the smart and healthy decisions to not only use but to avoid situations that involve drugs, tobacco and alcohol. I realized through D.A.R.E. that the use of these things do not just impact my life but also the lives of my friends and family and everyone else that enters my life.

My Pledge: Today I, Kalli Best, pledge not only to myself but to my parents, family, friends and teachers that I have had and will have in the future that I will never use drugs, tobacco and any use of alcohol will come of legal age in moderate, legal amounts. I know the effects of what can happen were I to use any of these substances, not only to my own health and safety but that of those around me that I know and do not know. I pray that God can help me keep this pledge so I do not end up hurt or hurting others and to live the life in which I was given.

Noah Hulse's D.A.R.E. essay

Hello, my name is Noah Hulse. I am in Mrs. Terraza’s fifth grade at Sacred b Heart School. D.A.R.E. has taught me to trust myself and make my own choices, and not to let other people pressure me into making a choice that I know in my heart is wrong. It also has given me skills to use when I am in uncomfortable situations and need a way out.

What I really like about the D.A.R.E. program is that I can use what I've learned to help myself, but I can also use it to teach my friends, who do not have the privilege of being in the D.A.R.E. program, how to stay drug- and violence-free.

By using “D2 M2,” the Dare Decision Making Model, I will teach my friends to first define the problem so that they can see clearly what they are up against. Then, I will tell them to assess exactly what their choices are, so they don't respond impulsively. I will tell them to respond by using the information to make the best choice, not the most popular or the easiest choice. After they make their choice, I will tell them to evaluate their decision to see whether it was really the best choice they could have made.

It is important to learn how to say "no" to drugs, alcohol and violence, because they can harm you physically and mentally. They can ruin your life and make you miss opportunities of a lifetime. I plan to be a paleontologist and will need to be physically strong to travel around the world and spend months or years excavating archeological sites. Marijuana is addictive and makes it hard to concentrate. I want to be good at my job. Marijuana has chemicals in it that increase my chance of getting cancer, and it is also illegal not just in the United States but a lot of other countries, too.

Peer pressure is when someone pressures you to do something you don't want to do, or something you know is wrong to do. Peer pressure is something that every student experiences at some time. I have felt it in class and at recesses. I can remember feeling pressured to choose between picking a good friend to be on my team or picking other people who were better players. Everyone kept shouting at me to pick the "best" players. I wanted to be a good friend, but I felt everyone was pressuring me to do what they wanted me to do. I knew that my friend wasn't the best player, but it would have been embarrassing and disappointing for him if I didn't pick him first. Not letting him down was more important to me than winning a game, so I chose my friend. It wasn't a matter of life or death, it didn't involve drugs or alcohol, but it helped me understand that peer pressure is something that can influence me if I don't remember what is important.

I'm glad the D.A.R.E. program gave me more skills for getting out of uncomfortable situations without making a big scene. Peer pressure makes me feel uncomfortable and I would never want to do that to anyone else.

The skills that I have learned by being in the D.A.R.E. program will help me for the rest of my life. One important skill is to stay in charge and to just keep saying "no" to anything that has to do with drugs, alcohol or violence. I also learned that there is strength in numbers. If someone is trying to persuade me to do something that I know is wrong, it helps to have other people backing me up and reminding me to stay true to what I believe. I also think that the idea of changing the subject is something I hadn't thought of doing to get out of a bad situation. I will have to practice that so that in the future, if I really need to use that skill, I will be good at it. I already use humor sometimes to get my parents to laugh and forget about giving me a lecture. I understand how it could help if I'm ever feeling pressured to try drugs or drink alcohol.

I, Noah Michael Hulse, pledge on this day to stay drug-, alcohol- and violence-free. I will never choose to do drugs, drink alcohol or act violently and I will never pressure anyone else into doing any of them, either.

Devante Moreno's winning D.A.R.E. essay

Hi, my name is Devante Moreno I think the D.A.R.E program was great. The program showed me how much harm drugs can do to me, my family and my future. I also think knowing all this will help me a lot in my future, so I can say no to drugs.

The reason why it’s important to be drug free is so I can travel the world. Someday, I also want to be able to go outside and play with my kids or grandchildren when I’m older. I don’t want to stay in bed in the hospital and not be able to do anything.

In D.A.R.E, I learned how cigarettes hold 200 known poisons. That is not including the unknown poisons that are in tobacco. Marijuana smoke contains 50 to 70 percent more of some of the cancer-causing chemicals than tobacco. It also is illegal in the United States to consume marijuana.

It’s illegal for anyone younger than 21 to consume alcohol. Most teens are still growing, making alcohol more severely damaging to them than to older adults. Therefore, marijuana and alcohol affects them in school and in sports.

All these drugs affect lots of parts of your body, such as the brain, muscles, vision and hearing. Some of these drugs may cause short-term memory loss. Your lungs may struggle harder to breathe and your heart and liver may start to break down.

Pressures from your friends, family and media can influence you to use drugs or alcohol. Some of your friends or family may smoke, making us think it’s OK to do the same. They look like they’re having the time of their life. But they don’t know what they’re doing to their bodies. In commercials, they are all the cool kids at a party, having fun. If a not-so-popular kid watches the commercial, they might think “if I drink, I’ll be just as cool and popular as them,” so he’ll start drinking.

Well there are many ways to say no to drugs like the cold shoulder, changing the subject, making a joke out of it, continuing to refuse or saying no.

I, Devante Moreno, make a promise to stay drug and alcohol free. Staying drug and alcohol free is important to me now and in the future. I don’t want to get into fights or go to jail because of drugs. Drugs and violence would affect my goals a lot by creating a very bad background. If I try to get a very good-paying job and they look at my background, they would say no because of all of the drugs and violence. No one would trust me or be around me.

Carter Pinten's winning D.A.R.E. essay

Hi, I’m Carter Pinten and I’m 10 years old. I live on a farm where I like to ride horse and four-wheelers. I’m in 4-H. I shoot archery, air rifle, show my horse, arts, crafts and do community service. As I grow up, I want to continue to do all those things.

If I were to take drugs, I couldn’t do any of that. I would only be focused on the drugs and would not care about anything else. Drugs take over your mind and body. I would not do a very good job during any activity or job. Also, I could hurt myself or someone else.

When you are on drugs it affects not only you but also the people around you. You may even kill your family, friends or people that you don’t even know. I know a person’s dad was killed in an accident that involved drugs when she was 12 years old.

Then as she grew up, it was without her dad. I’m almost the age that she was when she lost her dad. I could not imagine my dad not being there for the rest of my life. There would be so many things that we would miss out on. I also would not have a dad to take fishing, camping, teach me about the world or to love.

Since I have experienced losses because of drugs, I will not take drugs. I don’t want to risk ruining my life. I also would not want to ruin someone else’s life. There is no good that can come out of taking drugs.

DARE Graduation

DARE essay winner Noah Hulse from Sacred Heart School reads his essay on "Taking a Stand" against drugs and alcohol at the DARE Graduation ceremony at the CAL Center on Tuesday afternoon. 85 students graduated from the Reedsburg Police Department DARE program this semester.

Reedsburg Police Officer Scott Peterson shakes the hand of St. Peter's Lutheran School fifth-grader Kayleigh Meyer while Officer Peggy Porter waits to hand Meyer her honorary essay certificate and Emma Van Etten and Lyle Weeks wait for their turn at the DARE Graduation ceremony at the CAL Center on Tuesday afternoon. 85 students graduated from the Reedsburg Police Department DARE program this semester.

Fifth-graders proudly spell out the name of the DARE program above their heads while singing the DARE song at the DARE Graduation ceremony at the CAL Center on Tuesday afternoon, directed by Pineview music teacher Alma Hagemann. 85 students graduated from the Reedsburg Police Department DARE program this semester.

Fifth-graders from Pineview Elementary, Sacred Heart School and St Peter's Lutheran School sing the DARE song at the DARE Graduation ceremony at the CAL Center on Tuesday afternoon. 85 students graduated from the Reedsburg Police Department DARE program this semester.

DARE essay winner Carter Pinten from Pineview Elementary reads his essay on "Taking a Stand" against drugs and alcohol at the DARE Graduation ceremony at the CAL Center on Tuesday afternoon. 85 students graduated from the Reedsburg Police Department DARE program this semester.

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Past Winning Essays

2023 winning essay by jeremy haynes, 2022 winning essay by theodora mcgee, 2021 winning essay by anna dougherty, 2020 winning essay by noah durham, 2019 winning essay by elazar cramer, 2018 winning essay by jeffrey seaman, 2017 winning essay by daud shad, 2016 winning essay by zhen tu, 2015 winning essay by matthew waltman, 2014 winning essay by ben wolman, 2013 winning essay by jamie baer, 2012 winning essay by patrick reilly, 2011 winning essay by kevin kay, 2010 winning essay by michael reed, 2009 winning essay by margo balboni, 2008 winning essay by laura schapiro, 2007 winning essay by maia gottlieb, 2006 winning essay by ben loffredo, 2005 winning essay by allie comet, 2005 winning essay by kevin zhou, 2004 winning essay by avram sand, 2004 winning essay by will schmidley, 2003 winning essay by michael sloyer, 2002 winning essay by emily ullman, 2001 winning essay by tyler boersen, 2001 winning essay by stephanie dziczek, 2000 winning essay by peter buttigieg.

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Award-Winning DARE Essay Sheds Light on Bullying

At the 5th-grade DARE graduation at Ferrara Elementary School this June, DARE Program East Haven Head Officer Dave Torello awarded Chad Feola first place for his DARE essay on bullying.

Here are some excerpts from Feola's award-winning essay:

"...DARE helped me get through two of the most stressful and unimaginable years of my life...I have learned not to bully and that if I see someone bullying someone else, I should report it to my help network...I will always remember the DARE Decision Making Model and try to use it. I will be a very good citizen when I get older. Doesn't my future look great?!

"As you can see, I have learned a lot about DARE and the one thing I know the most about is bullying because I have been the victim of it. In 3rd and 4th grade I was verbally and physically bullied. I felt like I was left out. I had to wake up every day stressed out just knowing that kids would call me names and bully me all day at school until I went home...With all that happened, I was still able to keep my grades up and become part of the talented and gifted program. The stress from being bullied started to affect my health in 4th grade so I made the decision to leave that school and start new at Ferrara...Today I am happy and healthy. I think the world would be a better place if everyone followed the DARE program."

Photo by Jaki Lauper/The Courier

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10 Winning Scholarship Essay Examples From Real Students

Make your application shine.

Writing a scholarship essay can be intimidating. The competition is fierce and the stakes are high, so students are bound to feel the pressure. It may be helpful, therefore, to look at essays that were successful. What did those students do to impress the committee? These scholarship essay examples will give you a better idea of how to make an application shine! 

Tips for Writing a Scholarship Essay

We’ve put together a whole guide for how to write a scholarship essay , so if you haven’t read it already, definitely give it a look! In addition, here are some quick tips to help students get started. 

Carefully read the rules

The last thing you need is to be disqualified from winning a scholarship because you didn’t do the right thing. 

Start early

Don’t wait until the last minute to start researching and applying for scholarships. Give yourself plenty of time to work through the process. 

Get to know the provider

Think of the scholarship provider as your target audience. You want to tailor your essay to impress them, so do your research. What kinds of candidates are they looking for? What causes do they support? Dig deep for the information you need!

Think about who you are, what you want to say, and how to appeal to the scholarship committee. Write everything down and then choose the best ideas. 

The scholarship committee will be reviewing many applications. How can you make yours unforgettable? Highlight your strongest assets, share hard lessons if they showcase your growth as a person and/or student, and be honest. Never lie in a scholarship essay!

Be professional

Consider this the most important academic paper you’ve ever written. Don’t use slang or casual language. Submit a properly formatted essay that’s been well-edited and proofread by multiple people.

One last tip

Don’t reuse scholarship essays! Yes, it’s time-consuming, but students need to put the same effort into every application. Use the same process and it will get faster and easier every time!

Scholarship Essay Examples

Afc visionary scholarship essay by nicole kuznetsov.

Award Amount: $5,000

Essay prompt: Why do you want to go to college? Why is it important to you?

Why it was successful: The  beauty of this essay is that it’s well-organized and simple. Nicole Kuznetsov chose to outline her story by using chronology and provided a clean, concise story following a linear path.

North Coast Section Foundation Scholarship Essay by Christine Fung

Award Amount: $1,000

Why it was successful: Christine Fung masterfully shared how her upbringing instilled strong values, a love for education, and a passion for medicine .

The Bill Browning Scholarship Essay by Gabby DeMott

Award Amount: $10,000

Essay prompt: Discuss an accomplishment, event, or realization that sparked a period of personal growth and a new understanding of yourself or others.

Why it was successful: Gabby DeMott shared her experiences with personal growth and overcoming fears in Germany. She also appealed to the very human feeling of wanting to belong in a way that was inspiring. 

Life Happens Scholarship Essay by Emily Trader

Award Amount: $15,000

Essay prompt: How has the death of a parent or guardian impacted your life financially and emotionally? Be sure to describe how the loss of your parent/guardian impacted your college plans, and explain how the lack of adequate (or any) life insurance coverage has impacted your family’s financial situation.

Why it was successful: Emily Trader fully addressed the prompt in honest, beautiful detail. She knew her audience and tailored her essay to appeal to them while telling her compelling story. 

Change a Life Foundation Scholarship Essay by Isabella Mendez-Figueroa

Essay prompt: Please explain how your experience volunteering and participating in community service has shaped your perspective on humanity. Elaborate on how these experiences have influenced your future ambitions and career choice.

Why it was successful: Isabella Mendez-Figueroa shared an empowering story about her parents overcoming financial adversity so that she and her sister could be the first in their family to go to college. 

Giva Scholarship Essay by Joseph Lee

Essay prompt: Who is (or what makes) a good doctor?

Why it was successful: Joseph Lee offered a captivating , personal story that was essentially a list of things that make someone a good doctor without it feeling boring or calculated. 

New York University College of Arts and Science Scholarship by Ana

Award amount: $39,500 

Essay prompt: Explain something that made a big impact in your life.

Why it was successful: Ana discussed how early experiences w ith learning difficult things has contributed to her passion for teaching and supporting students. 

The Fund for Education Abroad Rainbow Scholarship Essay  by Steven Fisher

Award amount: $7,500

Essay prompt: The Fund for Education Abroad is committed to diversifying education abroad by providing funding to students who are typically under-represented in study abroad. Please describe how you and/or your plans for study abroad could be viewed as under-represented.

Why it was successful: Steven Fisher’s powerful essay   connected his realizations about his own sexual identity with embracing the beautiful diversity found all around the world. 

Women’s World Banking Founder’s Scholarship Essay by Rosaisha Ozoria

Essay prompt: Write about your hopes for the future of women and girls worldwide.

Why it was successful: Rosaisha Ozoria   focused on a very specific topic , financial literacy for Hispanic women, and emphasized its importance and relevance to her own life. 

The Millennium Gates Last Dollar Scholarship Essay by Famyrah Lafortune

Award amount: $3,500

Essay prompt: Education is the most powerful weapon which you can use to change the world.” —Nelson Mandela Describe a change you would like to make in the world. Tell us about how you would plan to make that change, and what obstacles you might encounter along the way.

Why it was successful: Famyrah Lafortune starts with a strong statement about ending racial inequality and then details the steps she’ll take to make it happen. 

Do you have any great scholarship essay examples? Share them below!

Plus, check out  the ultimate guide to college scholarships, want more suggestions be sure to subscribe to our newsletters ..

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