What I’ve Noticed Working with New York City Students on College Essays
Working with students in New York City, I’m often struck by how much context shapes the stories they carry with them into the college essay process. Not in obvious or flashy ways, but in quieter patterns that surface once students slow down enough to reflect.
Many NYC students grow up in a dense, layered environment—one where opportunity, difference, ambition, and constraint coexist in close proximity. That reality shows up in their writing, even when they don’t initially realize it.
Early exposure to the “adult world”
One thing I notice again and again is how early many New York City students gain access to spaces that feel distinctly adult.
Jobs, internships, research opportunities, arts and sports programs, political organizing, and more. These aren’t abstract ideas for many city students. They’re things they’ve done, often while balancing school, commutes, and family responsibilities. As a result, their résumés can look unusually full for their age.
But that same exposure can create a challenge in their essays. Students sometimes default to listing experiences rather than reflecting on how those experiences changed them. The work becomes less about finding something impressive and more about pausing long enough to ask: What did I notice? What surprised me? What stayed with me?
Comfort with diversity and complexity
Growing up in New York City often means regular interaction with people who hold different identities, values, languages, and life stories. For many students, diversity isn’t something they encountered once. It’s the backdrop of daily life.
This can lead to a quiet strength in essays: an ability to hold nuance, to see multiple perspectives, and to write without flattening people into stereotypes. At the same time, because this exposure feels normal, students sometimes underestimate how formative it’s been. What feels “ordinary” to them can be deeply meaningful when articulated thoughtfully.
Helping students name what they’ve absorbed—about community, difference, empathy, or belonging—is often a turning point in the writing process.
A heightened sense of self-awareness
Another pattern I see is a relatively strong sense of self-awareness. Many NYC students are used to navigating complex environments: advocating for themselves, moving between different social contexts, or figuring out where they fit within systems that don’t always feel designed for them.
This self-awareness doesn’t always show up as confidence. Sometimes it shows up as overthinking, self-editing, or pressure to sound polished. But when students give themselves permission to write honestly rather than strategically, that awareness becomes one of their greatest assets.
Their essays often deepen when they move away from trying to sound impressive and instead write from a place of clarity about what matters to them and why.
Pace, pressure, and comparison
Living in a city like New York also brings a particular kind of pace. Students are surrounded by ambition—high-achieving peers, competitive schools, constant reminders of what others are doing or achieving. That environment can be motivating, but it can also make it harder for students to trust their own story.
I often notice students worrying that their experiences aren’t “enough,” even when they are thoughtful and deeply personal. Slowing the process down—creating space to reflect rather than compare—is an essential part of helping students reconnect with their own voice.
Why this matters in the essay
What I find most compelling about working with New York City students is that their stories are rarely about a single moment or accomplishment. Instead, they’re shaped by accumulation: of experiences, encounters, responsibilities, and perspectives.
The college essay becomes an opportunity not to showcase how much they’ve done, but to make meaning of how living in a dense, dynamic city has shaped how they see themselves and the world around them.
When students begin to recognize that their context is not just background—but a source of insight—their writing tends to shift. It becomes more grounded, more reflective, and more distinctly theirs.