Common Application Essay

For fifty days straight - no matter rain or shine; rocks, wood or moss; in a mine or on a campsite - I set up and took down a tent. Our green Eureka Timberline SQ was more than just a six-person tent, it was our sanctuary in thunderstorms; the stadium for wild Codenames battles; the sole constant at the end of a long day of paddling and portaging; the sharing space where we reflected, told stories and secrets. If you think there is no community in building a tent, you are mistaken, and I want to convince you.

 

On one particular day, with weary arms and energized spirits, we rapidly paddled to the campsite, having seen the menacing clouds in the sky. Our attempt to beat the rain and set up before the downpour was unsuccessful. The second we stepped foot on land, the clouds opened up and the rain came pouring down. Our timing was unlucky but I tried to remind my tent-mates of the glorious day in the sun we had just experienced. They were hardly responsive to my efforts at optimism. For the six of us to be warm, to be dry, to be unified, we needed one thing: our tent. My friend Neve, new to tent setup, and I, a tent specialist, prepared ourselves for battle against the clock and the rain. Together, we set up that tent in record time. 

 

The second it was up, we ripped the fly out of its drybag, our hands shaking from the cold. We attempted to fling it over the tent, but as we tried to pull the two edges apart, to our dismay, every single rope on the fly had formed one mega knot. We jumped up and down trying to generate heat as we took turns tugging at the ball of string. Our hands had lost their nimbleness so we called for backup. We stole our friend, Lexi, from her station setting up a tarp shelter, and encouraged her as she slowly unpried the knot. After what seemed like forever, the knot was finally untangled, and we were able to shield our tent properly. The inside of our tent was wet, but outside it was wetter, so we all scrambled in as the rain kept pouring. 

 

On that day, and the forty-nine others, I constructed a safe space for us to convene and connect. It may sound silly, but through becoming a tent-builder I’ve come to realize that community-building is just what I do. It’s who I am. It is the common thread that runs through all of my experiences. I build community as a student leader at school, on the slopes with my 5-year olds as their ski instructor, and in my other roles in the community. I believe that in each of us lies a fundamental yearning to connect with each other. All we need are meeting places where relationships are nurtured, tucked away in folds of nylon, stashed under thermarests or nestled into sleeping bags. The best way for me to tell you about my place in my community is to tell you that I am a tent-builder.

 

At the end of a transformational fifty days in the woods and peaceful fifty nights in the tent, I created The Tent-Builder Manifesto:

I believe community building is capacity building.
I believe relationships are an endless journey of personal growth and skill building.
I believe that diversity in talents, ideas, and interests enriches any team.
I believe when working together we feel more alive, empowered and bold.
I believe every moment is an opportunity to show how much we care for each other, believe in each other, and how much we are committed to growth and change in each other. 

 

I believe we are stronger tent builders when we work together.
Are you convinced?