50 Successful Harvard Application Essays

D
ANIELLE 
L
ESSARD
Why a Republican Read 
The Communist Manifesto
I am a conservative. Point-blank. I’m not talking “hardcore, no gay marriage, abortion equates to
eternity in Hell, Catholicism is the only religion worthy of my acknowledgment” conservative, but I
believe in limited government intervention in private business. I may seem like an unlikely candidate
for such beliefs; I live in Springfield, Massachusetts, an urban environment where the majority of the
population utilizes some sort of government assistance to supplement the costs of living. Well, maybe
not the absolute 
majority,
but I certainly see a lot of it. Though raised as a Catholic, I believe in
nothing more than simple spirituality, and do not abide by all the stipulations of the strict Catholic
community (although I do continue to attend church because I find the environment welcoming and
the people overwhelmingly happy and uplifting). I attend the Drama Studio, a small, conservatory
style acting community where I am considered the token Republican (artsy 
and
conservative—is this
what Harold Camping meant by the Rapture?) Not surprisingly, my colleagues have made many
attempts at conversion (“Watch MSNBC, Danielle; I promise you’ll love it!”) But I stick to my guns—
no pun intended. However, I have found that sharing the majority of my time with those of conflicting
opinions has enlightened me in the ways of respect and compromise.
Enter Jacob Mueller. Literally the son of a preacher man (his father is the minister at Trinity United
Methodist Church), his political views on Facebook are listed as “Member of the Communist Party of
America.” Oh, boy … He entered my Advanced Scene Work class in its second semester, and as is the
Drama Studio custom, I welcomed him with open arms and commenced what I soon discovered to be
the long and interesting process of getting to know him. Through this, I discovered a few important
things; like me, he loved politics. Like me, he was well informed. And, like me, he was more than
willing to argue his opinion.
Through our 
Odd Couple
dynamic, we found an endless number of conversation topics. Every day
was a new, “Did you see what the Tea Party’s newest legislation entails?” countered by a, “How about
that Scott Brown, eh?” I was the Michele Bachmann to his Al Gore. But the remarkable thing about
our debates was not their intensity or their depth, but how much I was 
learning
by listening to him
talk.
A strange thing was happening to me. For the girl who had always been staunchly opinionated and
stubborn, who had never been one for agreeing with the opposition, who took pride in her ability to
stand her ground even when she represented the minority view, compromise suddenly had a new
meaning. Its connotation was no longer negative. And, in turn my ability to not only understand but
also respect a view contradictory to my own was growing in strength.
In order to foster this newfound mind-set, I presented myself with the ultimate challenge. In a

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moment of excited passion, I logged on to 
Amazon.com
and, for $4.95, ordered a copy of 
The
Communist Manifesto
. The little book, with its floppy laminated cover depicting a hammer and a
sickle on a glossy black background and plain white block letters spelling out its title with
inconspicuous innocence, took its place at the head of my bed, where it resided for the next month. Bit
by bit, it began to fill with marks of pensive notation, speckles of yellow appearing in odd places
where the highlighter had bled through, its fragile pages curving with the insistent pen marks that
filled their margins.
As I devoured the words of Marx and Engels, I realized something remarkable. I’m not going to
tell you I agreed with them; in a lot of instances, I didn’t. But I 
did
understand what they were saying,
and I was able to respect them both as visionaries 
and
intellectuals. Where the old voice in my head
would have said, “Wow, what idiots,” my new voice was open to more than just the fundamental ideas,
but the intelligence it must have taken to form them and the thought process behind them.
When I register to vote, I will not be registering as a Democrat. You won’t see me at any PETA
meetings, and you certainly won’t hear me speaking fondly about President Obama’s plans for health
care. But I can proudly say that 
The Communist Manifesto
taught this Republican what it means to
compromise, and to respect.
REVIEW
This essay does a marvelous job of describing the way in which one’s outlook on life can change
over time. She takes thoughts about her evolving conservative political beliefs and turns them into
something interesting by introducing other characters and using humor throughout.
Danielle’s asides are funny in all the right ways. They generally poke fun at her conservatism
without being offensive. Her line about being both artsy and conservative is a good example of using
humor to convey aspects of one’s personality that may not be immediately apparent in an essay. She’s
a not-too-conservative person who’s also fairly witty? Check.
Her humor also makes the essay exponentially more enjoyable to read. Serious diatribes about
changing ideals are fine, but descriptions that are actually entertaining are far more memorable.
It should be noted that though the essay is about Danielle and her ideological refinement, her use
of other people (namely, Jacob) in her narrative makes the story seem far more credible, and makes
her seem more relatable. Her interactions with Jacob showcase her ability to compromise and carry
on successful interpersonal relations in spite of glaring political differences.
The essay would have benefited from more development at the end. Her interaction with 
The
Communist Manifesto
would have been slightly richer had we glimpsed a little more insight into her
thoughts rather than her just saying that she disagreed with most of it. Was there a part that she found
redeeming? While a relatively small critique, more elaboration would ensure that readers would not
be left hanging at the conclusion in an otherwise excellent essay.
—Charlotte D. Smith

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