50 Harvard Essays

Essays are for reference only. Do NOT copy or imitate anything! 
Plagiarism is severely punished! 
ANALYSIS 
An essay that asks for discussion of an important extracurricular activity may be just 
the place for an applicant to discuss in greater detail why participating in student 
government makes his or her world go’ round. But as in this case, the essay may 
also offer an opportunity for an applicant to further describe a unique or 
unconventional interest. “One Hundred Pairs of Eyes” details the author’s 
experiences as conductor of her high school football band – a position that on paper 
may not carry much weight, despite its many responsibilities. Through her 
description of leading one hundred musicians in the complexities of a half-time show, 
the reader gains unique insight into being at the helm of a marching band – a 
position from which few people have observed the perspective. 
The author begins her essays with rich description –she is the point of focus for one 
hundred sets of eyes. By personifying the eyes, the author paints a marvelous 
picture of the scene. The reader can almost sense the position from which she must 
be standing and the enormity of the group at her feet. But he or she is left to wonder 
what sort of awkward situation may be causing this unique scenario. Just as the 
author creates an intense sensation of tension in the essay, the reader too holds his 
or her breath in advance of the announcement that Glynn is the leader of a marching 
band. As she continues, the author contrasts her experiences as conductor with 
those of being a performer, shedding light on the exhilaration of holding the gaze of 
the hundred musicians who look to her for rhythm and tempo. And with descriptive 
language in the third paragraph, the author encourages the reader to push onward, 
toward the finale of both the music and the essay. The passage ends with an 
impressive sense of relief both for the band members and the reader. 
“The Lost Game” 
“The Lost Game” 
--by Stephanie A. Stuart 
When I was little my father used to play a game with me driving home. Its main 
substance was something like this: he would say, oh no, I seem to be lost; how shall 
we get home? And then he would ask, which way? Gleefully, I would crane my neck 
above the seat; according to the game, his befuddlement was hopeless, and I alone 
as navigator could bring us home. No doubt I seemed contrary as I directed him 
further and further down back streets, but my secret incentive was exploration. As 
a small child there is very little one can control in one’s world; to have control over 
an entire grown-up – not to mention a whole car – was tremendously appealing. The 

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