My journey as an editor began in 2015, as part of a lunchtime editors' club in high school. Back then, editing was a fairly detached process — students would come in with an essay thrust upon them by a syllabus, I would provide mostly grammatical editing, and then the student would leave. I'd rarely (if ever) hear back about how the student ended up doing on the assignment.

As college application season rolled around, an increasing number of my friends started asking me for advice. My lunchtime editing hours spilled over, morphing into a routine after-school activity.

Editing applications was different. The impact of this writing spanned much farther than a single assignment's grade — it determined the next four years (at least) of its author's life. As such, these essays called for a level of authenticity that required essays about The Odyssey never did. The content needed to be rooted in the writer's life experience and the style needed to echo the writer's voice.

The best essays aren't sales pitches — they're authentic self‑portraits.

Naturally, this called for much greater investments — physical, mental, and emotional — from both author and editor. Getting a return on those investments provided a newfound motivation that made the hours fly by faster, even though the number of hours had grown.

Over those years, my process underwent editing of its own. I realized I would have to dig deeper than my earlier, largely grammatical edits. I could fix capitalization and comma placement all day, but that wouldn't change the fact that many first drafts rang hollow — loosely connected lists of accomplishments masquerading as essays.

The most compelling essays emerged when I spent time understanding each student's unique story, rather than simply correcting their writing. Over the past decade, I've learned that the best essays aren't polished sales pitches — they're authentic self-portraits. That realization shaped my entire approach to editing.

Surprisingly, the motivation I found years ago still hasn't worn thin. On the contrary, it feels refreshed every time I get the chance to help someone capture their past and shape their future.