Following Tegan Morcott’s feature regarding the struggle seniors are facing with the Common App essay, The Forest Scout will be publishing a successful example essay from an LFHS alumni each day this week. 

 This second example comes from Mr. Andrew Salzer (’15). Andrew attends Miami (Ohio) University in Oxford, Ohio. His emotional personal essay centers around the struggle of losing a close friend, Will Laskero-Teskoski, during his freshman year at LFHS. 

When you’re fourteen years old, the world seems big. Ironically enough, high school at times seems even bigger. Every piece of information that we receive at this age is quickly processed and spit back out as quickly as we can.

“Be safe and smart—trust yourself, Andrew”, “Write things down in your planner”, “Girls will be girls, bro.” All of these slight pieces of information are heeded without much thought given to them. Freshman year of high school—for the average American teenager—is discovering what their natural “default” setting is and acting according to it. As important as grades , homework, and keeping the casual conversation going with my attractive female lab partner during 5th hour seemed at the time, what was ahead of me in that year of my life was much different.

Fourteen years old carries a heavier burden for me. At first, it brought about the all-too-common immortality and new freedoms; being “old enough to know but young enough not to care.”

On February 28th, an overcast, brisk morning that was typical of winter’s closing month, my mom dropped me off conveniently at the same time as a close friend was let out of his mother’s sight, for what she didn’t know would be the last time. As we recognized each other, made eye contact and seamlessly entered into conversation about the upcoming struggles that lie ahead in the school week, we parted ways to individually shoulder the weight of our 1st period classes. Shortly after picking up our books and dragging our tired Tuesday morning bodies down the dimly lit hallway, we found ourselves face-to-face again after turning another corner. The look on his face clearly presented that Will, a kid I had been spending the entirety of my freshman year with—both the unparalleled joys and disheartening sorrows—did not look well. Whether it was an average cold or flu bug going around or something much more than that, at the time I did not know. I didn’t feel the need to ask.

I have known every day of my life since.

3 periods later, what was seemingly your repetitive Tuesday had turned into hundreds of young kids in chaos and confusion; a state of anarchic dismay that only unheard of news can bring a high school hallway. As I looked around above the whispers and stillness that the shock of the moment brought to me, I could feel the cold eyes of strangers watching me—giving me looks of sympathy and compassion for a reason I had not yet known.

“Did you hear it was Will?”

I heard the words from the concerned voice of an upperclassman, almost trembling and in quiver considering the magnitude of the message that he had just released. From then on, the numbness and shock erased all of the thoughts in my head.  As I embarked on what became the longest 2-minute walk of my life to the counselor’s office that morning, I opened the door to realize the people who had found out before me. And with each creak of the door opening, a new close friend piled in to understand the tragedy of the situation together.

On February 28, 2012, William Laskero-Teskoski , a Freshman student at Lake Forest High School, was struck and killed by an outbound Metra Train just outside Lake Forest High School.

Consequently, everything outside of Will’s situation seemed peripheral—nothing seemed to matter or resonate or even warrant my attention. All those fragments of advice that I was receiving as a fourteen year old seemed so trivial and unimportant in comparison to the battle that was being waged inside of me. A battle that I was the only one who was able to solve. At fourteen years old, you’re not often asked to solve things on your own; you get help from your teachers, your parents, friends, and your coaches. But for me, understanding the importance of my own life and making the existence in it worth living is something I took upon myself to discover and invest in.

Amidst my freshman year, my grades plummeted, my social life was virtually non-existent and my general disposition was untethered to anything with a real and profound purpose. From that place, though, I had the self-realization that the feeling I was being suffocated from stemming from Will’s death wouldn’t end until I became a person that I could be proud of—academically, socially, and emotionally. Today as I recollect the memories of high school that are, of course, at the time they are presented, the biggest ordeals in my life, I realize what is before me. But also, I realize what is behind me continually in forging my path.

Stay tuned for more Common App essay examples posted every day this week at 9:00 PM.