Original Word Count: 611

Required Word Count: 550

End Word Count: 549

Words cut: 61

Compare each paragraph in the original to its counterpart in the edited essay and analyze the choices Gayatri made. (Words that have been cut or changed are highlighted in the original essay.) What strategies did she use to reduce her word count without sacrificing any of her ideas or taking out all the sensory details that make her essay come alive for the reader?

Original Essay (611 words) by Gayatri

1) It was my turn to pick a notebook. There were a pile of them stacked in front of me, bright against the matted blue carpet of my second-grade classroom. The boy next to me dug his elbow into my side.

2) “I bet you’re gonna pick a pink one,” he said in a vicious whisper. It was obvious to me why he thought so. Pink was a girl color and I was a girl.

3) I picked a yellow notebook.

4) I was seven years old and to me, there was nothing worse than being a girl.

5) My lack of femininity was a source of great pride to me as a child. I’d cut my hair short and refuse to wear anything I thought was remotely “girly.” I was friends with the boys because I wasn’t like the other girls.

6) But underneath this veneer, I was deeply resentful. When my father bought me a Barbie, I cut off all her hair with blunted child’s scissors and mummified her in clear tape, expunging any semblance of femininity from her smooth plastic body. I’d glower at the popular girls from across the playground and pen bitter diary entries on cheap paper. I’d completely bought into the idea that femininity was weakness.

7) And yet, I envied them. I envied the way they dressed and spoke without fear of judgement. I told myself I was better than them, but I never truly believed it. Despite scrubbing my skin clear of my femininity, despite convincing myself I was stronger, I longed for the freedom they had.

8) As I grew older, I became more involved in the clubs at my middle school and this perspective began to shift. I joined the Girls Who Code club, a club devoted to teaching young girls to code, which allowed me to safely express myself without having to posture for people I thought would think less of me. The faculty advisor of the club became a valuable mentor to me.

9) And then one day, as we were walking through the school soccer field together, I saw her take off her high heels to walk comfortably across the grass, soggy with rain from the night before. I was all at once struck with the juxtaposition of this strong woman, who wore dresses and high heels, walking barefoot across a field of mud. Up to that point, it had never fully hit me that I could be both myself and a woman at the same time. That there was space in the world for me to be both.

10) It was armed with this realization that I joined the Feminist Literature club in high school. During my time in the club, I read and discovered some of my favorite books, such as Their Eyes Were Watching God and Middlesex, both of which helped me further tackle my thoughts about my identity as a woman and the notion of gender norms that had pervaded my life up until then. It was there, amidst laughter and weekly Oreo deconstruction, that I learned what it meant to read something that could change your entire worldview.

11) Now, I am only just beginning to understand what it means to be a young woman. A makeup tutorial on YouTube can be just as satisfying as a video essay critiquing the world-building in YA novels. Not only are these two spheres of interest allowed to coexist, but they are welcoming to all types of people. To my surprise and delight I have discovered the diversity of this internet microcosm, allowing and embracing everything from gender fluidity to trans identities.

12) I look back at my past self: small, self-conscious, and determined to choose yellow, and I am proud.

13) I think she would be too.

Edited Essay (549 words; 61 words eliminated)

1) It was my turn to pick a notebook. There were a pile of them stacked in front of me, bright against the matted blue carpet of my second-grade classroom. The boy next to me dug his elbow into my side.

2) “I bet you’re gonna pick a pink one,” he said in a vicious whisper. It was obvious to me why he thought so. Pink was a girl color and I was a girl.

3) I picked a yellow notebook.

4) I was seven years old and to me, there was nothing worse than being a girl.

5) My lack of femininity was a source of great pride to me as a child. I’d cut my hair short and refuse to wear anything I thought was remotely “girly.” I was friends with the boys because I wasn’t like the other girls.

6) But underneath this veneer, I was deeply resentful. When my father bought me a Barbie, I cut off all her hair with blunted scissors and mummified her in tape, expunging any semblance of femininity from her smooth body. I’d glower at the popular girls from across the playground and pen bitter diary entries about them. To me, femininity was weakness.

7) And yet, I envied them. I envied the way they spoke without fear of judgement. I told myself I was better than them, but I never believed it. Despite ridding myself of my own femininity, I longed for the freedom they had.

8) In middle school, I joined the Girls Who Code club, a club devoted to teaching young girls to code, which allowed me to safely express myself without having to posture for people I assumed would think less of me. The faculty advisor of the club became a valuable mentor to me.

9) And then one day, as we were walking to the school soccer field together, I saw her take off her heels to walk across the grass, soggy with rain from the night before. I was suddenly struck with the juxtaposition of this strong woman, who wore high heels, walking barefoot across a field of mud. Up to that point, it had never really hit me that I could be both myself and a woman simultaneously. There could be space in the world for me to be both.

10) It was armed with this realization that I joined the Feminist Literature club in high school. During my time there, I read and discovered some of my favorite books, such as Their Eyes Were Watching God and Middlesex, which both helped me grapple with my identity as a woman and the notion of gender norms in general. It was there, amidst laughter and weekly Oreo deconstruction, that I finally found my voice.

11) Now, I'm just beginning to understand what it means to be a young woman. A makeup tutorial on YouTube can be just as satisfying as a video essay critiquing the world-building in YA novels. Not only are these two spheres of interest allowed to coexist, but they're welcoming to all types of people. To my surprise and delight I have discovered the diversity of this internet microcosm, that allows and embraces everything from gender fluidity to trans identities.

12) I look back at my past self: stubborn and determined to choose yellow, and I'm proud.

13) I think she would be too.