Words
Things I've written throughout the years...
Ogilvy Associates Program 2024
Although the 24' associates program was cancelled, I was pretty happy with the short essays I wrote for them. I at least wanted to share them so they got another chance to be read.
Prompt 1:
"Edmund Hillary and Tenzing Norgay are in history books for being the first two individuals to successfully climb Mount Everest. What is your Everest? In 500 words or less, tell us about the biggest challenge you’ve faced and conquered."
An accomplishment such as Everest is unlikely to be surpassed in a person’s life. Looking at my 24 years, I tried to remember the proudest moments I’ve experienced; in the end, I decided to tell the story of a time that I climbed a rock.
While this rock was no Everest, it certainly felt it at the time. At 16 years old, I was severely depressed for a myriad of reasons, but to sum it up, I was lost. I lacked understanding of where I fit in, what I was good at, and what motivated me; life was a game I didn't understand, that I felt I was losing in every aspect, and I was desperately trying to find reasons to keep playing. So here I stood at the foot of a cliff that was to be my catalyst.
I had been backpacking through the woods of West Virginia for 15 days on my second Outward Bound trip of the summer. As if all the days carrying 35 lb packs over miles of wilderness wasn't enough, we were going to top rope a rock face. Outside of maybe a birthday party some kid had at a Funplex, rock climbing wasn't something I had any experience with, and the Funplex nor my fear of heights was assisting me at this moment in time. As I harnessed in, I resigned myself to failure. As I tied in, I convinced myself I would fall. As I took my first step onto the wall, the weight of my mind felt it would crush me. All on my own, I had built this rock to the tallest peak in existence.
What a surprise it was when I realized I was halfway. Then I was further than any of the other kids had made it. As I clung to this rock, I looked down on the other girls I had spent the last two crazy weeks with; they were screaming my name; they believed in me. All at once, I felt so silly; I began to cry. These girls who knew me for a small fraction of my life had more faith in me than I did; why was that? When I looked up and saw the lip of the cliff a mere 3 feet away, I believed. What a feeling it was, not only to pull myself over the edge, but to stand at the top of the world and cry into the universe because I was proud.
Such inconsequential events shape our lives; that's what I believe. As a current rock climber, I guarantee you I’ve climbed harder routes, but that day, I realized I wanted to be alive. I've had the opportunity to build on that feeling every day since then and I have done my best to take each one. In a way, I may be climbing that rock for the rest of my life, but to know I can top it any time is what I will hold with me forever.
Prompt 2:
"Imagine you’re a character in an alternate reality, where the extraordinary is celebrated and ordinary is obsolete. In 500 words or less, describe a day in your life in this world. (Consider thought starters such as, what sets you apart, how your uniqueness affects the world around you, etc.)."
As I roll out of bed, I can see camera flashes through my window; it's the paparazzi…again. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, they usually show up before I even wake up. I groggily slump downstairs as I get ready to give the people what they want. As I pop a bagel in the toaster, I begin to mentally craft my masterpiece. I crack the egg into the pan; I decide it's a broken yolk day. Sleepily, I catch a glimpse of media vans and fans peppering my front yard. One person has gotten uncomfortably close to the window, perhaps hoping to catch a whiff of my creation.
I sigh, how am I supposed to focus under these conditions? I’m tempted to close the blinds but I have to remember these people are just fans of my art. It sometimes feels like a curse, but I know that many people wish they could create the world’s best breakfast bagel. I should be grateful, seeing someone's art is like peeking into their mind, and I’m happy these people like what they see.
As I reminisce, I think back to my very first bagel; it must be 5 years ago now. Even though they were some cheap ingredients from the corner store and basil from my mom’s little plant on the deck, that silly little sandwich sparked a fire in me that burned stronger every day. Now I have the best sources that I use to make my breakfast each morning, my bagel is shipped in every morning from the best bakery in New York, a state of the art toaster, and I still use my mom’s basil, but now it's from her 20 acre herb farm upstate. What a repertoire I’ve gained, reporters hounding me for my secrets, fans telling me how I inspire their first meal of the day, but that first bagel…nothing will top that moment.
Oop- almost forgot about the bagel! I dash over and sigh with relief as I see it’s perfect; crispy brown around the edges; if you were to crack it open, the dough inside would softly tear apart like waves brushing the sand. I spread the butter along the top of the crust as I remember how my sister’s used to tease me for my dismissal of cream cheese; I flip the egg on top and laugh…how wrong they were. I garnish the marvelous sandwich with Cholula, mom’s basil, and a dusting of salt. As I open the front door, the crowd goes wild; I sit down on my porch and thousands of photos are taken of me as I take the first bite. The beautiful crunch sends a few in the crowd staggering as they try to regain composure.
What a world we inhabit, where such little things can make such an impact, something as minute as a bagel being so important. Who knew I would make a sandwich and it would show me the world.