Dear Robert Frost,
“Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,” are the first seven words I see when I read your poem. More importantly these are the words my mind stumbles upon when I am faced with a decision. Your writing has powerful meaning that allows each word to fly off the page and burrow into a place in my brain, and I won’t let them go. Not only your writing but also the response your writing represents is inspirational to me in my daily actions. Your poem, The Road Not Taken, fixed itself in my mind and I know that its impact will continue to affect me day after day.

Each day, I have to make choices. These choices can be big or small and they can carry consequences of various proportions. Whether it is a large or frivolous decision, I will always be torn between the popular path and the right path. Even though the decision may be clear to an onlooker, my choice is often very difficult and it is apparent that “I could not travel both, and be one traveler” (Frost 1). As I debate between the two opposing options, I am struck by your poem.

Six months ago, I applied to four different high schools. I was interested in a variety of schools and so were my friends. For many of my friends, their choice was clear, but it wasn’t for me. Most of them had decided between one of two schools in particular. I, however, was also interested in a third option. My friends were going one way, opening doors to two very good schools, and I was peeking in at another. When May rolled around I had to make the choice, and like you said in your poem, I could not go both ways myself. May came and I stood alone in a wood with two paths. One path was the obvious popular choice, and many of my friends had made that decision. These schools had all the amenities; one was an expensive private school with many extra features that lured many people in. It had the nice campus, the great food and so on. I was unsure though because I felt like this school was absorbed in the material objects and not so much focused on the growth of a religious relationship, whether it was the people or the fancy facilities. The second school was a large public school with an overwhelming student body. In this school I saw the beauty of diversity and change, but I feared I would loose the intimate relationship with my teachers and the close-knit community with my peers. Both of these options had their pros and cons, and on top of that, all of my friends were very interested in both of them. So should I have been more inclined to these choices too? If everyone else was going one way then should I follow them just to be there too? I could have fallen in with the crowd and been okay. Either way they were good schools, but were they my school? The other path I could have chosen was more unknown, “and having perhaps the better claim, because it was grassy and wanted wear” (Frost). Few people I knew chose this path, and it would mean a new start with all new people. My choice was essentially between the popular schools and the unfamiliar school that seemed to fit me more accurately.
The words, “Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back” (Frost) echoed in my head and pressured me to choose the right school. This decision would change the course of my life forever and I would never get to do it all over again. I was determined to make the right choice.
After hours of difficult consideration I came to my conclusion, convinced and hopeful that my high school experience would be the best it could be. I ended up at the less familiar school. I chose that one because I thought by the end of my four years as a student I would have grown to be a stronger person, academically and through my relationship with God. My choice had been made and my path was decided, not because it was the path my friends decide to take but because it was the right one for me “Two roads diverged in a wood, and I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.”
With appreciation and praise,
Katie