Essay Category:
Essay Question:
Major essay -- personal statement
Until a few months ago when my family moved, a yellowed picture was taped to the side of the refrigerator. There were coupons stuck over and around it but some crayon scribbles and a signature still peeked through. This picture, drawn in first grade, showed a smiling figure wearing a blue and red cape. The caption read, 'When I grow up, I want to be ________.' Filled in the blank and with backward E's, I had carefully printed 'A SUPERHERO.' Some things have changed since first grade, and some have not: I no longer write with backward E's, but I still intend to save the world. I recognize that this goal cannot be achieved only with optimism and good intentions. Achievement will require comprehensive preparation, wide exposure, well-cultivated contacts, validated moral courage and strong communication and reasoning skills. I hope to improve and develop these abilities at Duke Law. I am interested in public international law, particularly dealing with war, peace, and human rights. My ambition is to be a leader committed to peace and able to achieve cooperative solutions in international forum. I hope to prepare myself for a career in diplomacy and policymaking, then help educate the next generation of leaders through teaching and research. Duke Law School offers this opportunity, particularly through the joint degrees, summer institutes, and study abroad programs. I have much to contribute to the Duke community: enthusiasm, intellectual curiosity, and a humanistic academic background. My research skills are well practiced from a senior honors thesis on South Africas nuclear weapons program and from an internship with the IISS, London. I helped the Senior Fellow for European Security track the progress of the Common European Security and Defense Policy in becoming a viable instrument, able to work with NATO and promote regional confidence. This was my second summer abroad: in June and July 1999 I studied language, social science, and government in Paris as a Boston College Presidential Scholar and in Strasbourg at the Council of Europe. I attended the first Council of Europe Summer University, designed to raise awareness of human rights and international law as well as to foster cultural exchange among students from over twenty different nations. I intend to pursue a public service career, and I recently completed the first step a year as an Americorps VISTA volunteer. My placement was in the US Operations Division of ACCION International, a prominent non-profit microlender with Associates throughout the Americas and Africa. I was responsible for special projects under the Senior Director of Operations including the development and implementation of a loan-application tracking system, maintenance of network policy and procedure, and ongoing support and computer systems training for the ACCION Associate programs. Through this work, I learned a great deal about development and finance and improved my management and strategic planning abilities. I was also fortunate enough to witness job creation and hard-working small business owners rising from near poverty to middle income. Achieving superhero stature is a challenge, but I have been raised to believe challenges can be overcome and goals achieved through hard work, determination, and positive thinking. My mother always said, "You WILL succeed" and by believing this, I have. For example, when I began work at ACCION I was asked to learn Microsoft Access programming. At first the task seemed daunting, but after asking many questions of on-line workgroups, experimenting by trial-and-error, and reading help files, I built an extensive impact- and portfolio-tracking database. Another example of positive thinking paying off was my experience with the Boston College Varsity Fencing Team. I 'walked-on' to the (Div I) team freshman year. With hard word and perseverance I excelled, developing proficiency for independent action within team goals and a 'clutch' ability for success under pressure. In four years, I advanced from a beginner to a competitor in the 2001 NCAA National Championships. I was elected captain twice by my teammates, in recognition of my leadership, dedication and work ethic. Thank you for your consideration of my application.
Essay Category:
Essay Question:
Major essay -- personal statement for joint degree
I possess a strong background in political science, history, and liberal arts. To this list I would like to add a better understanding of the cultural basis of law in order to enhance my effectiveness as a lawyer operating in the international environment. I am also interested in teaching at the undergraduate level, and a background in cultural anthropology will be a positive step towards accomplishing my goal of teaching in the Boston College Honors Program and Boston College Law School and directing the Presidential Scholars Program. For these reasons, I am interested in pursuing a JD-MA in Cultural Anthropology at Duke University. I do not have a formal background in anthropologythe subject was not emphasized at my undergraduate university. However, I am familiar with issues of culture and gender difference, my primary area of interest. The Boston College Honors Program surveyed the development of western culture through history, art, literature, politics, and society. We read selections from diverse sources such as Sir James George Frazer's The Golden Bough and Simone de Beauvoir's The Second Sex. I also took courses in the Womens Studies Department and in the Political Science Department dealing with international politics and gender norms. An article in an airplane magazine sparked my interest in corporate anthropology. Since that time I have pursued readings in anthropology on my own, drawing from syllabi published online at Harvard and Notre Dame Universities. This reading does not replace a concerted classroom experience, but I offer enthusiasm for the subject and a dedicated work ethic. I am confident I could catch up quickly and contribute to the Department of Anthropology. I also offer strong research skills, developed in my current position as a Scoville Peace Fellow with the Council for a Livable World, a senior thesis on the nuclear weapons programs and security paradigms of South Africa and Israel, and an internship with the International Institute for Strategic Studies, London. I intend to concentrate my legal studies on public interest and international law. My chosen coursework in college focused on peace, security, and development studies. I also completed a year of service as an Americorps VISTA volunteer working in the U.S. Operations division of ACCION International, a microlender. My focus was domestic but I attended staff meetings and brown bag lunches with staff working internationally. I learned a great deal about relating to the working poor in the U.S. and about development efforts on a global scale. I am interested in a Masters Degree in Cultural Anthropology to build on these experiences. My ultimate goal is to live the vision of Margaret Mead and to act as a committed proponent of international peace and development. I want to inform the opinion of agencies such as the U.S. State Department and USAID, then help shape the next generation of leaders through teaching. I have the determination and talents, and am seeking the most effective educational tools, so that this is not a naove quest but a fully realized challenge. I believe the JD-MA in Cultural Anthropology offers this opportunity.
Essay Category:
Essay Question:
Minor essay -- greatest academic achievement
My greatest academic achievement was my undergraduate honors thesis, on the clandestine nuclear program of South Africa. I concluded that global pressure against apartheid policies and support for reform efforts played a major role in removing the rationale behind the South African nuclear weapons program, particularly when coupled with changes in domestic politics. The second stage of my thesis applied these lessons to the Israeli nuclear program and suggested means by which the international community could facilitate comparable denuclearization or partial rollback in Israel. In my research for the paper, I came across several writers who believed the lessons of South Africa could not be applied to Israel. This was daunting; however, I found in my analysis that, though the two situations differ in several major respects, the overall concept of concerted international action pressuring a regime into good behavior worked on a wider scale than in South Africa alone. Security conditions and domestic policy drove South Africa to build nuclear weapons; changes in the security calculus and domestic leadership led to nuclear dismantlement, and since the early 1990s South Africa has evolved from a supporter of nuclear proliferation to an active force upholding norms of non-proliferation. The benefits of this turnaround are obvious. South Africa's experience suggests actions the nonproliferation regime could take to facilitate a similar rollback of Israel's undeclared nuclear program. Since the 1960s Israel has possessed a 'bomb in the basement,' a clandestine nuclear weapons capability used primarily to deter regional aggression. Though Israels nuclear program is older than South Africa's, it was initiated for many of the same strategic security reasons. Since the programs grew from similar seeds and since South Africa dismantled its weapons once conditions shifted and bombs became a liability, it is possible to posit changes that would compel a parallel alteration in Israeli nuclear policy. The causes of denuclearization in South Africa should be adaptable to fit Israel's needs, and citing this precedent the international community could encourage a more responsible and transparent nuclear policy in Israel. My thesis provided an overview of nuclear development in South Africa and analyzed the causes of denuclearization. It suggested steps to assist Non-Proliferation Treaty signatories in fulfilling the treaty's objectives and in preparing the way for a peaceful future denuclearization in Israel. I wrote my paper before the intifada reached its current level of violence. However, I still hold that there are definite parallels to be drawn and lessons to be applied from South Africa's nuclear experiment. In South Africa, the nonproliferation regime was unsuccessful. The United States and Western Europe pursued a dual policy in which rhetoric and action did not equate. States like France and the US provided South Africa with the technology and material to build nuclear explosives. When South Africa took advantage of this opportunity, such states cut political ties and security assurances, leaving South Africa isolated, facing a hostile population, an unstable region, and a world that condemned the government's existence. Inconsistency in international policy increased Pretoria's resolve to a nuclear deterrent. In the late 1970s-early '80s, it encouraged South Africa to research more offensive weapons. This lapse in-dicates what does not work in dealing with a potential proliferator. How South Africa achieved its nuclear capability is both impressive and worrisome, as it demonstrated great resourcefulness in isolation and opened the door for other committed rogues to do the same (as Iraq has demonstrated). The will behind the weapons program remained keen until the change of government and the height of anti-South African and anti-nuclear sentiment. The greatest implications of South Africa's experience lie in the program's dismantling and its effects on South African and international policy towards nuclear weapons. Both overt and covert international assistance supported the acquisition of nuclear technology, but as world pressure against the apartheid regime grew in the late 1980s, the nuclear program suffered. The United Nations Security Council and General Assembly passed several resolutions denouncing the National Party government and those states still engaged in commercial or military transactions. These united with changes in the South African leadership to promote nuclear rollback and accession to the NPT. International pressure strengthened government resolve to follow strategic ambiguity; South Africa built bombs because of international isolation and the threat posed by Soviet-backed Cuban troops in neighboring African countries. Lacking military and political allies and facing antagonistic rhetoric South Africa's hope to force Western assistance in this insecure environment appears quite rational. Israel attempted the same and could not get a nuclear guarantee from the US, illustrating another example where well-thought-out diplomacy could prevent proliferation. South Africa went nuclear because of a real security threat and dismantled the nuclear program when the threat imploded. Rather than increase South Africa's isolation and perceived insecurity, the international community should have worked to ease the tension in sub-Saharan Africa. In the height of Cold War rivalry, this prescription meant little. In today's multipolar world, regional tensions can and must be resolved through concerted and positive international action, rather than the negative incentives of sanction and embargo before the cause of nonproliferation can be fully realized. These conclusions and issues excited me, so much so that I applied for (and won) a Scoville Peace Fellowship to pursue further arms control and nonproliferation research. I hope to further enhance my understanding through the international law courses and resources of Duke University.
Essay Category:
Essay Question:
Personal statement - major.
I have had the happy predicament of growing up a vagabond. When asked where I am
from, I usually choose one of two standard replies. I use the short response at
informal social gatherings: 'Seattle' (my birthplace). The longer answer I
reserve for people I feel may become good friends: 'Well, my dad is an Arabic
linguist for the State Department. My family has lived in the Sudan, Egypt,
Tunisia, Jordan, and Indonesia, so I don't feel like I am from anywhere in
particular.'
This is my desperate and uncomfortable attempt to sum up neatly a
life of constant moving, of immersion in exotic cultures, and to explain to
others why I am such a misfit in 'regular' American culture. Growing up, I knew
nothing about the latest movies, pop stars, or other forms of cultural currency
among American adolescents. When we visited the States I did not fit in with
other kids my age, and I hated being an awkward outsider. Always acutely aware
that I was different, I would cringe silently each time someone asked me if I
lived in a pyramid or rode a camel to school. No one seemed to understand that
we
did not have Twinkies, Pizza Hut, 'The Cosby Show,' or even homogenized milk.
Although I was painfully aware of my uniqueness when I visited the States, at
home in Africa and the Middle East I was completely happy. Living in the Sudan
was indescribable. When we left in 1984, things were just beginning to fall
apart. Martial law and Sharia law had been declared and the country was ruled by
any sixteen-year-old with a machine gun. It was a surreal and frightening time;
political chaos mingled with religious extremism to create a precarious
existence. These circumstances profoundly affected the stability of the legal
code: laws and rules changed daily.
On the way to school we would listen with
wide-eyed attention to our bus driver, Abdulla, as he talked about the public
floggings shown nightly on television. We were mesmerized as he told stories of
convicted thieves getting their hands cut off and how they would dip the arm in
hot wax afterwards to stop the bleeding, or when he related how a local Catholic
priest was caught with alcohol and beaten. At the time we left the Sudan, my
mother could not even leave the house without her marriage certificate. To have
been caught with my father in a car without proof of a legal relationship would
have meant public floggings for her, or worse.
Before the country's tragic transformation, I enjoyed an idyllic life. We lived
in a three-story villa surrounded by a wall six feet high. We had two boabs
(house guards) named Adam and Mohammed, both from Chad. As a curious and
outgoing
ten-year-old, I would sit with them for hours each day at the entrance to our
little compound. Although they spoke no English and I spoke scant Arabic, we
somehow managed to pass the afternoons in good-natured communication. They would
spend the day meticulously inscribing passages from the Koran on carved wooden
tablets. When finished, they rinsed the ink from the tablet into a bowl, drank
the ink water, and began again with another passage, as if to literally
internalize the sacred words. I would sit and watch herds of goats pass by,
greet
our milkman and his donkey on their daily delivery stop, and peek in on our
neighbors, a family of six who lived in a small tin shack built into the side of
our massive wall. One day I ventured out to meet them. They lived in two small
rooms with dirt floors and a small black and white TV in the main room. I was
immediately welcomed and we sat together and exchanged nods, smiles, and open
goodwill. One of the youngest daughters ran to the nearest kiosk and brought me
an orange soda. I felt uncomfortable accepting it, knowing the 25 piastres it
had
cost was a veritable fortune. But the familys strong sense of hospitality would
not have allowed them to overlook it. From that day forward, we were friends.
The Sudan was a magical place for me, and I cannot think about it without
feeling
youthful innocence, wonder, and a longing to return.
One summer I volunteered at a local orphanage. My only duty was to sit in the
infant ward and hold the babies. Although the orphanage had adequate supplies
and
most necessities, the youngest babies were not flourishing. Some felt that the
infants were not developing properly simply because they did not receive enough
human contact. So every day for three months I sat in the quiet, sterile room
and
held the babies one by one. Eerily mute, passive, and very, very small, they
were
not like other infants I had known. I would sit and rock, letting my mind wander
about boys at school, the upcoming Sports Day where I hoped to win several
races,
a recent trip to the Omdurman camel market, and weekends spent at the Nile. As
the summer drew to a close, however, it became increasingly difficult for me to
go to the orphanage day after day. Many afternoons I sat in the rocking chair
and
cried quietly to myself. I did not want to accept that one day soon I would have
to return to my regular life and would not be able to take every one of those
babies with me. I knew their futures were worse than bleak. In a country filled
with gross inequity and profound poverty, they were truly at the bottom. These
babies had no real hope for receiving an education or learning a trade. Each day
would be a struggle for survival. No laws or government programs had been
designed to ensure that these children would be treated with dignity or even eat
every day; no viable system or structure existed to protect them from predators,
disease, hunger, and exploitation.
I still think of my tiny friends today when I read reports of eleven-year-old
boys forcibly drafted into the military by local rulers in Eritrea, of Arab
women
suspected of adultery being executed by family members in 'honor killings' in
Egyptian villages, and of three-year-old babies raped in South Africa as part of
a curing regimen for AIDS. Sitting day in and day out with those Sudanese
orphans
has been one of the most influential experiences of my life, and leaving them
was
one of the hardest. Even as a naove young girl, I knew that I was abandoning the
babies to a completely uncertain and desolate future. They had no voice in the
world and absolutely no one to speak for them.
My own voice has always been a driving and defining force in my life. I have
used it to assert my strength, individuality, creativity, and passion. In high
school I loved energetic debates with my classmates. I fought incessantly,
researched, and argued with relish while representing China in my Model United
Nations team, which was chosen to participate in an international event in The
Hague. My relentless search for my own voice spurred me to become fluent in
French, passably fluent in German, and well-studied in Italian and Russian (with
some dabbling in Arabic); I also obtained a Master's degree in Voice
Performance.
There is nothing like singing alone in a packed, 2000-seat opera house, hearing
my voice bouncing off the walls, filling the house, penetrating the air, and
ringing in the ears of all in attendance, shaking them with a primal, powerful
sound. It is glorious! I feel that my voice literally reaches out of my body,
expressing the very depths of my soul to others, and I am always grateful to
share such a personal part of myself with the audience. The need to have my
voice
heard, to be understood, and to communicate and share ideas with others has been
one constant in my life.
But I have decided to leave the field of music. The reasons are many: incessant
travel, infinite rejection, little employment security, endless hours of
repetitive and exhausting rehearsal for one brief moment of satisfaction, and
the
desire to put down roots eventually are all wearing on me. Perhaps most
importantly, I am concerned that the voice I express onstage is sometimes
internally dissonant: pouring out my soul day after day -- exposing and
expressing my heart and spirit -- while lamenting that my lover Alfredo has
spurned me at the ball is becoming difficult for me. Expending all of my
available energy and time in playing consumptive courtesans and meek (and also
consumptive) Parisian seamstresses is not where my heart lies.
I love the
richness and beauty of the human voice, the excitement and drama of opera, and
singing is a passion I will never abandon. However, I feel the need to lend my
voice to a more productive and consequential purpose. I want to make a
difference. Having witnessed firsthand the problems that legal and political
instability brings, I want to be involved in the process that strives to ensure
that those helpless babies I held a lifetime ago in another world -- and
countless individuals like them -- have a voice. I believe the most powerful
voice is the law, and that is where my heart lies.
Essay Category:
Essay Question:
Personal Statement
'Thomas...Michael...Smith!' As the hair on the back of my neck stands at attention; I cringe, paralyzed mid-stride; my chest constricts; it becomes impossible to breath. My thoughts race between the 'choice words' of an eight year old and the decisions of my recent past. In a panic-stricken state I dart through memories, desperate to recall what has invoked my mother's wrath. Only a week before Christmas, I am well aware that Santa is watching and I have been attentive to my every move. I had not recently given myself a haircut, loudly exclaimed my discontent at not receiving a 'potato chip' at church, accidentally removed one of my sister's front teeth, put a hole in a wall, or tried to bathe electronic toys. Although the reason is currently unclear, one thing is certain, I have done something wrong in my mothers eyes and I am in for it! Regardless of what I had done, the high jinks of my youth taught me valuable lessons beyond truths like Teddy Ruxben does not like baths, I have power over dry-wall and only barbers should give children haircuts. I learned how to function within the mini-legal system of my family. Seldom did I have a strong case to plead and appeals were rarely heard. Being the oldest, I could not rely on precedent and I frequently threw myself on the mercy of the court. However, each instance yielded personal growth which slowly manifested itself in self-discipline and a more healthy relationship with my parents. This is my inspiration to study law. I can appreciate the intrinsic value of a law school education and do not feel that it is merely a means to some end. Although a legal education provides many appealing opportunities, a specific career goal is not what guides my interest. In a less scathing lawyer joke, Jerry Seinfeld most accurately expresses my mind-set. He describes life as a huge board game in which lawyers are 'the only ones who have read the inside of the top of the box and know the rules." An education that teaches specifics to be used in a lab does not hold the same value for me as one that offers practical knowledge of how to function and work best within society. My undergraduate major which entails advanced philosophy and sciences has instilled in me a comprehensive picture of the world. Combining classes like organic chemistry and advanced moral problems has challenged me to adopt a unique method of approaching problems and finding solutions. The diverse philosophies I have encountered have taught me to identify, examine, construct, and rebut arguments. By synthesizing humanities and the natural sciences I have been taught to read, analyze and argue with precision; skills invaluable to any successful student. Perhaps being grounded and having my mouth washed out with soap did not seem just at the time, but my upbringing helped instill in me values essential to a good legal professional. I was taught that my actions bring serious consequences, both great and harmful. A profound sense of personal responsibility was the result. My extensive Catholic education has honed my sense of mutual respect and integrity and I have become increasingly conscious of those who do not have a voice in today's society. The true test of my values has not been in the classroom, but on the field. As a student-athlete I was provided an education far beyond what I learned in the classroom. I quickly discovered how to balance the various aspects of my life successfully. In a highly competitive environment my success has shown my superior work-ethic. My duties as captain of a division 1A sports team challenged and expanded my capacity for responsibility and accountability. My peers inadvertently taught me that true leadership primarily entails listening and serving. In addition, through serious sports injury and extensive rehabilitation I learned I have the perseverance and fortitude to face adversity. My childhood antics strengthened my character and provided valuable insight into community life. In retrospect, I can see that opening and rewrapping my presents well before Christmas is not something that would please my parents. However, on Christmas morning I did learn that there are many children who are not as fortunate as I am.
Essay Category:
Essay Question:
Personal Statement
In my freshman year of college, I was presented with a tremendous opportunity. After responding to an ad in the local paper, I was hired as a sales agent working strictly on commission for a marketing organization from Georgia. I worked diligently for the next month, and my will and determination helped me earn over three thousand dollars in commission. Unfortunately, after the contracts were signed (with my name on it) and the money had been received, the company decided not to pay me. In the process of attempting to receive what I had earned, I was given a lot of advice from those older than I. I was told that the system is too big and my resources are too small, and any attempt to right the wrong would be futile. Despite having been taken advantage of before, I refuse to use failures in the past as excuses for the future. I see a clear distinction between failing and giving up; I might fail, but I will never give up. The next round of my advertisement troubles involved seeking a different avenue to collect payment. In a fruitless attempt to utilize the legal system, I conducted research both online and through various legal libraries. Additionally, I contacted multiple courts and the attorney generals office in the corporations home state. I even sought advice from a few attorneys specializing in employment law. I found out the hard way that the relationship between resources and ambition was a linear one, and the fewer resources you have the more motivated you must be to get the job done. Despite my bank account being a mere memory of something that was once great, I still had many resources available to me in this battle against the evil Georgian advertisement agency. Through my internship at a law firm for two years, I gained the patience necessary to deal with the bureaucracy that is the legal system in the United States. Moreover, my wide pallet of work experience taught me to respect authority, while still utilize what they have to offer. Since then, my time as a building manager for the student union on campus and teaching for Kaplan strengthened my leadership skills, sharpened my analytical abilities, and showed me how to share what I have learned with others. Incorporating all the resources available to me in this fight for justice was pretty inefficient. Realistically, I could have spent the time and energy I used seeking fairness to look for a job and earn just as much money (if not more) then I was owed. However, my character would not allow for it. I am privileged to be the son of two immigrant parents, instilling unique values within me as I matured in an American culture. Living life in a Jewish community has also assisted me in setting my priorities. Moreover, my experiences on the March of the Living and an admiration for the struggles of my family in the past all have contributed to who I am as a person. These very values led me to recognize an injustice when I was taken advantage of in my freshmen year of college, and encouraged me to act upon it. While I haven't been paid by the ad agency, the fight is not over. In fact, it's just beginning. The law school that I choose to attend will grant me the tools necessary to win any battle that I come across in the future. As I learned through my diverse array of life experiences, there are fights more important then those over money. I know that there are negative forces in the world that are challenging us as individuals and as a society. Many accept the future as doomed, and prepare to recoup from whatever devastation the future holds. I refuse to do so. I will never stand idle and let the future develop without my contribution.
