I’m a very honest person, even if it means throwing myself under the bus when a white lie could’ve sufficed. That being said, allow me to throw myself under the bus: I didn't try hard enough with this essay. My life was in one of the many funks it has undergone, and well, so was my interest and devotion to this rhetorical analysis. And when I say "didn't try hard enough," I mean: waited until a few hours before it was due and wrote away until I couldn’t afford to write any longer (for both the first and final draft). I'm talking not remembering whether I read over my entire essay consecutively in one go at least once during the entire process. Nevertheless, I received a grade that is two points short from the one I received for the first major paper (a.k.a. an essay I poured my heart and soul into). It’s fair enough for me to say that I am disappointed in myself about this essay, regardless of my score.

 

Upon comparing the first draft of this major paper to the final draft, there's not a significant enough difference for one to be stunned. What is perceived is a somewhat incomplete essay vs. a complete essay, because that's what they are. They represent my primary two encounters with writing it.  Both versions have about the same rhetorical analysis of my Florida State University college application essay, with the final draft going just a bit more in-depth in terms of critically analyzing the rhetorical strategies within the application or lack thereof. Still, not a significant difference between the two. I am disclosing this because there is no point in making up having worked on it as hard as I did for the first major paper. 

 

When working on my final draft the morning it was due, I focused on the primary feedback that I received from Prof. Gillespie and my peer group. I made adjustments for clarity here and there and added a paragraph. There are even a few typos in the final draft due to how rushed I was. I genuinely believe that I don't deserve the grade that I received. I did take a moment to read it thoroughly after writing the paragraph above, and I'll admit it’s a good essay, but it took minimal effort out of me and I feel as though I should've felt challenged in some way. Even though I did manage to do a good job, however rushed the writing process may have turned out to be, the essay merely reflects what I can do when I’m in a state of which all I want is for words to come out of me rather than touch me and help me grow. The fact it worked out for me might even be a good thing, taken the grade and overall quality were good, but my terrible work ethic (of which only I was aware of until writing this out) outweighs that.

 

The primary lesson that this essay taught me was to put in proper time and effort, regardless of how well you can pull off last-minute work. Professors, or whoever may come across your writing, may not always be able to recognize how much you tried and cared, but you do have that recognition and awareness. And if you’re like me, it’ll make you guilty. This is especially so if you’re a writer and feel as though your writing is a piece of you—again, like me.

 

 My reflection on this essay in one word: awakening.