Make my essay have the same structure as the other one:

mine: With a determined heart, I stood on stage, greeted by the sea of expectant faces. I adjusted my posture, drawing upon the strength of my Persian forebears and the rich, evocative poetry that flowed in my veins. I rehearsed the vocal techniques I had labored over, drawing out the vibrations of each note with the precision of a craftsman. The crescendo of the opera intertwined with my Persian roots, creating a melody that was as familiar as the lullabies of my childhood. Giuseppe Verdi's "Aida" was more than a performance; it was a narrative I yearned to share with others.

This connection between cultures did not happen overnight. Growing up, the Persian poetry revered in my household was like a warm embrace, guiding me through the complexities of emotion and storytelling. It was through these verses that I first understood the power of narrativea gift that blossomed anew when I encountered the world of opera. The tantalizing melodies and operatic tales paralleled the themes embedded in the poetry of my heritage, creating a bridge that transcended time and place.

But being an opera enthusiast comes with its own societal expectations. At gatherings, it labels me as the "opera aficionado," automatically assuming I would perform at every family reunion. When meeting new friends, there's a pressure to justify my passion for a genre not widely appreciated in my peer group. Invitations to dinner parties often come with a request for impromptu performances, putting me in the spotlight when I least expect it.

Yet, immersing myself in opera has equipped me with invaluable skills that reach beyond music. It taught me resilience through persistent practice, exploring breath control and expanding my vocal range. It imparted lessons in empathy, as each role demanded that I inhabit another person's story, living a snippet of their emotional landscape. When I study a libretto, I don't just learn linesI delve into the character's soul, discerning their fears, desires, and triumphs, much like a reader interprets the hidden meanings of poetry.

Most importantly, opera has nurtured my appreciation for human diversity and narrative nuance. Each performance is an opportunity to resonate with audiences, to draw them into a world where words and notes intertwine to portray life's profound intricacies. Through opera, I connect, communicate, and express in ways that transcend cultural barriers, all while honoring the deep-seated heritage that uniquely defines me. In this artistic journey, I find a symphonic harmony that continues to inspire and transform my life's narrative.

Other:

With a blackened Q-tip, I gave him eyelids and pupils and smoothed the rough edges of his face. I used an eraser to shave down the sharpness of his jaw and add highlights to his skin. After scrutinizing the proportions, I smiled at the finished pencil portrait. Kim Jong-dae was now ready to be wrapped as the perfect present for my friend.

Aside from Korean pop singers, I've drawn a variety of other characters. From the gritty roughness of Marvel comics to the soft, cuteness of Sanrio animals, I've drawn them all as a creative touch to top off birthday presents. It's simply the way I choose to express myself when words cannot suffice.

But being an artist comes with its own social expectations. At school, it's made me the "art girl" who is expected to design the banners and posters. At home, it's prompted long distant relatives -- regardless of how much I actually know them -- to ask me to draw their portraits. In addition, whenever my parents invite coworkers to my house, I've had to deal with the embarrassment of showing my whole portfolio to complete strangers.

On the bright side, being an artist has taught me to take risks and experiment with new techniques and media. It's taught me to draw meaning and intent with minimal words and text. It's taught me to organize and focus, by simplifying subjects and filtering out the insignificant details.

Most of all, art has made me a more empathetic human. In drawing a person, I live in their shoes for a moment and try to understand them. I take note of the little idiosyncrasies. I let the details--a hijab, a piercing on a nose, a scar on the chin--tell me their personality, their thoughts, their worldview. I recognize the shared features that make us human and appreciate the differences in culture and values that make us unique. And it's from this that I am able to embrace the diversity and complexity of people beyond a superficial surface and approach the world with an open heart and an open mind. (347)