In the current growing technological age, AI is becoming a cornerstone of everyday life. With constant answers (sometimes incorrect) and new ideas, AI seems like the perfect place to draw inspiration from. Although it can be a great resource, students all over the world are learning that AI isn’t a solution to getting out of work. AI checkers are more common than ever before, and teachers are adapting to spotting AI essays. With all that being said, The Bulldog Press thought it would be interesting to see if a college essay written by AI could survive Judge’s English department.
The prompt given to Chat GPT was simple: “Hey, write me a college essay. My name is Maddie Shragge, I am the student body president, I play lacrosse, and I do theatre. I am also a member of my school’s media team. I would like you to focus on overcoming challenges, as well as what could make me stand out against other applicants.” We based this on the average college essay prompt that usually surrounds personal growth throughout high school, as well as overcoming experiences and challenges.
Here’s the result:
Finding Strength in Many Roles
By Chat GPT
High school has never been one-dimensional for me. I’ve taken on many roles—leader, athlete, performer, creator. Each one has come with its challenges, and together, they’ve shaped how I handle pressure, connect with others, and grow. I didn’t set out to do everything; I just kept saying yes to what excited me, and in doing so, discovered how much I could handle and how much I could learn.
Leadership, in particular, taught me lessons I didn’t expect. It’s easy to assume that being a leader is about confidence, control, and being the one out front. But what I’ve learned is that true leadership often looks quieter. It means listening carefully, working behind the scenes, and being accountable when things don’t go right. It means being the first to take action and the last to take credit. There were moments when I had to make tough calls, mediate disagreements, and represent people who saw the world very differently from me. And while those moments were uncomfortable, they pushed me to grow into someone who doesn’t shy away from responsibility, even when it’s hard.
Balancing my commitments has never been easy. There have been early mornings, late nights, and days when it felt like there just weren’t enough hours. But I’ve learned how to stay organized, prioritize what matters, and give my full effort to whatever I’m doing. Whether it’s a team, a performance, or a project, I’ve discovered that being dependable—showing up, consistently—is one of the most underrated skills there is.
What ties all of my experiences together is my drive to connect. Whether I’m working on a team, creating something behind the scenes, or leading a group discussion, I’m always looking for ways to bring people together. I’m drawn to roles that require collaboration, communication, and creativity. And through these experiences, I’ve found my voice—not just the one that speaks, but the one that listens, reflects, and adapts.
Of course, none of this has been without struggle. There have been times I’ve doubted myself, felt overwhelmed, or questioned whether I was doing enough—or too much. But those moments didn’t break me. They taught me that success isn’t about having it all figured out. It’s about being willing to grow through discomfort and keep showing up even when things are difficult.
What makes me different isn’t just the variety of what I’ve done—it’s how I’ve changed because of it. I’ve become someone who thrives in complexity, who welcomes challenge, and who finds purpose in being part of something bigger than myself. I’m ready to bring that same energy, openness, and drive to college—ready to keep growing, keep connecting, and keep discovering what I’m capable of.
The first English teacher who reviewed the essay was Ms. Abby Robertson, a current history teacher who taught English 9 Honors last year, as well as English 10. Ms. Robertson, being unfamiliar with my writing style, struggled to identify that the essay was written by Chat GPT until she recognized the use of copious dashes. She said, “The dashes make it very ChatGPT coded, which is why I feel like I’m being gaslit to like this essay.”
Overall, she concluded that the essay made very good points and had great advice to share about the roles of leaders. She shared that, without knowing my tone, she would have taken the submission as a mediocre college essay that lacked much originality. While it had good points, she said that it would flag one to use an AI checker or to look deeper into the integrity of the piece.
Dr. Brian Chappell was the second candidate, and he wrote an impressive response that changed my perspective on AI writing.
“I want to thank Maddie for inviting me to comment upon her college essay. She is particularly curious about AI – its uses and abuses, its strengths and limitations, especially on such a high-stakes document as this one. What can I say? To begin, I put this essay into some popular AI detectors. GPT Zero, who curiously refers to itself as a “we,” is “highly confident” that this essay was produced by AI, with a “probability breakdown” of 100%. Similarly, Zero GPT (not the same platform – don’t get them twisted) yielded an interesting 98.65% match in their (her, its?) analysis.
Okay. Here is something that I’m thinking about. On more than one occasion, I have received these kinds of results only to discover that the document in question in fact was written by a human being. How is this possible? It is possible because the writing was, well, robotic. Game recognizes game, I guess.
But what makes writing “robotic”? Words like “milquetoast” and “mealy-mouthed” come to mind. A reluctance – at times a refusal – to speak plainly, from the heart.
So, what can a human do, not just to avoid AI detection, but to avoid robotic writing altogether?
I often tell my students, say something that only you can say, in a way that only you can say it. A tall task. But what do I mean? I mean: write boldly. The higher the stakes, the bigger the risk you should take. That’s what a robot doesn’t understand, given that its only stock in trade is imitation, a mostly blind hope that it is giving you what you want. With its robotic writing, the robot maximizes its chances of fulfilling that task. But in doing so – in maximizing its chances of a successful imitation – the robot ultimately gives you the bare minimum.
I also tell my students: writing is all about the moves that you make. So what’s a move that you can make? Anytime you write, imagine that this is the last and only thing that you can say about the topic or question at hand. Imagine, in the words of Eminem, that this is your “one shot.” If that is true, if this is your one shot, what is the one thing that you need to convey about yourself, at this critical moment of your life? In this essay, the robot gave us many things to think about. But anyone could have said any of the things that appear in this essay. As humans, give us one thing.
I mentioned earlier that Zero GPT yielded a 98.65% AI match for this essay. There was but one sentence that was not flagged, and it was this one: “But those moments didn’t break me.” What a startling coincidence, a startling emergence of the human from within the robotic (indeed, Maddie and I coordinated none of this experiment beforehand). I am reminded of “won’t you celebrate with me,” one of the most popular Poetry Out Loud poems, in which Lucille Clifton writes, “come celebrate/with me that everyday/something has tried to kill me/and has failed.” As you ponder your one thing, take this one with you. If you are stuck, let it be a starting point.
What didn’t break you?”
Dr. Chappell’s response directly reflects the humanity that can still be found throughout even the most inhuman. AI flagged all but the sentence “But those moments didn’t break me.” Which I can assure I did not write, yet it still understood the humanity in that phrase, and what makes the cornerstone of a good college essay.
