The Marine Corps Recruiting Depot Essay

The campaign advertisement ran by the United States Marine Corps uses versatile imagery and a connotative language approach to strategically attract minority women. The print ad shows a female Marine in a defensive martial arts pose on looked by a crowd of men in what seems to be a combat training session implying she is the leader. The tag line: “There are no female Marines. Only Marines” suggests that women who join the Marines will have equal standing with men in their organization.

Turbulence violently jolted the Boeing 777-300ER to and fro thrusting my petite frame into my stodgy neighbors, as I apologized to no avail. Internally, my heart was trembling as I yearned for my family, friends, and everything once familiar to me. Gazing around hopelessly, I cringed at the stares from strangers who already seemed to single me out as an intruder. This uneasy feeling that I thought would never be resolved vanished a grueling twelve and a half hours later as the plane touched down at Narita International Airport. Exiting the tarmac I felt anew; stepping into the crisp Japanese air I felt an intoxicating level of euphoria. The previous dread I had experienced surprisingly turned into a swelling curiosity. Unbeknownst to me at

I am writing this letter to respectfully ask for your support in helping me become one of the many distinguished cadets at the United States Military Academy. I have achieved so much in my 16 years of life and being appointed into the academy will be very well-deserving and forthcoming to all the amazing opportunities that the academy has to offer. I have worked tremendously hard to obtain a 4.0 gpa and maintain a class rank in the top 100 of my 1000 person class. With your help I can hopefully be appointed as a West Point candidate for the class of 2022.

The nearly seven hour flight, with one stop in Atlanta, was coming to an end. There was only one, alcoholic, beverage that was consumed; a gin and tonic with a lime wedge atop the plastic cup. As the Delta flight descended upon the, inland, landscape of Eastern San Diego County, Johnny began to see rolling hills that were covered with green flora and trees. Now looking straight out, and not directly downward, he embarked on a view of a blue body of water. Now closer to the San Diego Airport, he was a bit startled by how close the city high rises seemed in relation to the airplane, so he, tightly, clutched his arm rests as a natural reaction. As with any new venture in life, he was a bit nostalgic about all the good times he had back home with

My friend Sarah drove. Her fingers tapped the steering wheel in rhythm to the Carrie Underwood song blaring from the radio. It was the radio’s job to keep us awake since we had left so early in the morning; however, it was not doing a good job as I fell asleep only twenty minutes into the ride. Sarah had to wake me up at the rest stop just outside of Roanoke, Virginia.

There’s a sort of laziness to it, as if it can't be bothered to conform to the laws of gravity. Tiny rivers flow down the windows of my Honda, separating into little creeks as they go down. The rhythmic swiping of the windshield wipers paired with the percussion of raindrops, creates a soothing symphony that echoes throughout my car. I grab my lighter from the cupholder, flicking it back and worth, watching the tiny flame dance. Glancing up at the clock, orange letters glare back at me. 4:53 pm. I rummage through my pockets, searching for the paper carton to ease the pain. My chest burns as I inhale deeply, my lungs becoming wrapped in a warm blanket of nicotine and smoke. With every inhale, all of my worries are gradually exhaled away-for a bit.

After waiting in the airport for an hour, we boarded the plane. I peered out the window at the enormous white wing of the plane, imagining how smooth it will fly through the sky to take me to the Big Apple. But, that didn’t happen as soon as I’d hoped. After sitting on the plane for an hour, we were asked to go back inside the airport due to difficulties with the plane. “Will I ever get to New York?” I thought as I slouched back into the uncomfortable chair.

"Your flight 305, it departs in 30 minutes," the old man informed me. I shuffled away to the waiting area and sat in one of the rough, dry seats. The lack of entertainment killed me I shut my eyes and listen to the bustling footsteps, and conversations all around. The smell of late breakfast and old suitcases. All the smells were alien yet strangely calming.

The night sky lit up with burning white lights, while the moon hung loosely binding itself to the earth. My heart thumped, with the thrumming of the moving vehicle; while my head spun in circles, continuously repeating the same mantra I have been for the past few days.

Suddenly, I was awakened and violently thrown towards the front of the airplane. My eyes shot open and I blinked three or four times to adjust my dry, out of place contact lenses. The light bothered my sensitive eyes but I was too nervous to even think about shutting them. I spread my arms and legs creating a human starfish, contracted my stiff muscles, and let out a tiny grunt. I stood up from the same seat I was acquainted with for nine hours. When I rose to my feet, something felt strange, something felt different, something felt out of the ordinary. I quickly realized, I was standing at the London Heathrow Airport about to embark on, what I originally thought would be, the most miserable trip of my life.

I lay in my hollow empty shell of a room as I look at the clock tick away so loud that I felt it in my hands. I knew all those nights of staying up late anticipating the day to arrive like a child awaiting to open Christmas presents had finally come. We stumbled our ways into the bus with two bags two are names and a metal instrument of defense by our side. Mindless chatter arose in the bus, I began to stare out the window as I watched sons say goodbye to their dads, Wives to their husbands, and husbands to their wives. Senseless communication like one that you would make with a stranger at a coffee shop waiting to place your over priced coffee order. The wheels began to roll and the sun began to set. As we pulled up to the tarmac everything fell silent as if someone had set the world on mute. We ambled our way across the tarmac and all you could hear is boots rubbing on the cold wet gravel. Ample seating available on flight as we knew that it was not one for leisure. The wheels came up we zoomed skyward and a gloomy day turned upside down as we broke through the crowds into a vast sunny place that seemed to make everything alright in the world for that moment.

As we arrived at the airport, the reality gradually began to hit. I was travelling to an unfamiliar place faraway from home, leaving behind all my memories and my friends. However, as I saw the joy and delight on the faces of other travellers and the excitement returned. My parents and I board the plane after walking through security, and find our seats. “I want to sit by the window,” I tell my dad. As the plane starts taking off and the wheels lift above the ground, I feel I am rising above the past and flying towards a new chapter in my life.

The wind howled as we drove vigilantly through the mountains. The winding, treacherous roads rattled our van with every turn. The sun vanished behind the arms of the trees as we ventured deeper into the mountains. Miles of vegetation swarmed on the like we were entering a jungle. The mountain peaks impaled the sky like a sword. Darkness crept and latched on to our van with every twist and turn. Fog whisked it’s way like a tidal wave through the trees. As we approached our destination, the twists and turns only become more abundant. After each turn anxiety grips us with anguish because one incorrect turn would either throw you into the side of a mountain, or hurdle you into an infinite abyss below. Poverty spread like a disease as we passed houses, each one worse than the previous. Boarded up homes appeared every half mile. People stared as we drove by, as if they were giving us a warning: leave. A stream to the side of the road seemed to be our companion as it followed us every step of the way. The temperature dropped the farther we descended into the mountain. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, we finally reached our destination in the middle of nowhere: the mission.

“Whoosh,” was the sound the airplane had made as it took off. Afterwards, with the comfy airplane seat and quiet whirring sound of the engine, I fell asleep. The next thing I remember was waking in a strange-looking, dark, empty room. It was broiling and very humid. The scorching sun was peeking out from behind the curtains.

“We are beginning our descent to Greenville-Spartanburg International Airport,” I heard over the speaker. I looked out of the window and saw numerous lights blinking at me. The city was welcoming me back. At the time, I wanted to just hop on the next plane back to Milwaukee, but deep down I knew that this was now home. As I walked through the desolate white halls of the airport, tempted to turn around and try to board a flight back, I reminded myself to just keep moving. That was not the end of my adventure, in fact, it was only the beginning.