Essay Category:
Essay Question:
Personal Statement
In sixth grade, I took second place in the intermediate piano division at the Lake Geneva Musical Competition in Illinois. Amidst the happy chatter of the winners, my mom and I were silent. On the drive home, I recall saying to her, 'Wo shu le. I lost.' My mom nodded her head, knowing I was disappointed. 'Ma ma,' I promised her solemnly, 'from now on, I'll always win first place.' With success in mind, a conversation that occurred after I immigrated to the United States at age six replayed. During a serious talk with my father, he told me that to succeed as immigrants, we couldn't just be as good as Americans, we had to prove ourselves to be better. With my father's words in mind, I kept my promise to my mother; from that year on, I always won in my age division, beating many expert middle-schoolers and high schoolers alike. My drive to triumph over obstacles was evident, even while I was young. Upon immigrating to the United States, I attacked my biggest obstacle: language. In elementary school, I recall being laughed at for washing my hands in the drinking fountain, being scolded by my teacher for copying a classmate's journal entry because I couldn't understand the assignment, and being called 'chinky-eyes' by a little boy. One day in particular, soon after I came to America, my music teacher said to me, 'Nan, would you please close the door?' Stunned, I didn't know how to react. What was she saying? My mind quickly went over all the English words I knew in my head, but I didn't understand those words. 'Nan, can you close the classroom door?' she said again, slower this time, but with a clear hint of frustration in her voice. I stayed seated. 'Okay, Ben, would you close the door, please?' The boy next to me stood up and pushed the door closed, while I silently wished that I could suddenly grow wings and fly back to China. Walking home from school that day, I promised myself to work hard and learn those and other English words by heart. I would scrawl out English letters on pieces of scrap paper; listen to cartoon characters on TV and try to understand their jokes; and match the pictures to the phrases in Spot Can Run. Through my experience with language, I learned not to give up and not to feel sorry for myself, but instead to work harder. As a result, I was accepted to my school's accelerated English and math programs in fourth grade, where I studied with native English speakers. When the same boy tried to tease me during recess one afternoon, I responded, 'Excuse me! Is your brain malfunctioning?' Stunned by my progress in language, and because he didn't understand the word 'malfunctioning,' he turned and ran off. Since elementary school, I have continued to progress in academics while also exploring activities that connect with my heritage, such as the Asian Culture Club. But one of my greatest satisfactions came in third grade, during a day in music class when the hallway was particularly noisy. I raised my hand and, with a crisp and confident voice, asked the teacher, 'Ms. Van Dike, would you like me to close the door?'
Essay Category:
Essay Question:
The Board of International Admission would like to know about the experiences, intellectual interests, activities, or persons of particular significance in your life, and how they have influenced your attitudes, values, and goals.
I went on a six-day service trip to Vietnam, visiting the Hanoi SOS children's village as a volunteer for the participation in my school's project week. Our aim was to do some meaningful service for the abused and abandoned children in a Third World country, where people suffer from all sorts of deprivation. This was certainly an eye-opener for me and the most memorable experience. Feeling nervous, anxious and did not know what to expect, I first visited the village with a heart filled with sympathy and compassion. I took pity on those neglected children, and I was hoping to give the children spiritual support, and if I could, help them physically or financially. I was hoping, to be able to offer, to give. Expecting to see gloomy and depressed little faces, I saw instead, bright and sweet smiles upon radiant faces. The children had given us the most sincere and genuine warm welcome. They invited us affectionately into the house and offered us the best they had. They eagerly showed us around the house and into their rooms, proudly demonstrating their artistic master-pieces, and reading loudly to us their English story books. Although our communication was very much limited by the barrier of language, their friendliness seemed to have melted the ice and bridged the bond. The satisfaction and optimism on their faces told me instantly that they did not ask for sympathy. They had never felt inferior for being orphans. They were but, grateful for what they possessed. I cannot forget when we celebrated with the children the International Women's Day. It was most moving when all the 'mothers', who brought up and took care of the children, were warmly surrounded by their 'children'. Each child brought a red rose and gave it to their 'mother', with a thankful kiss on her cheek. The children had never shown the slightest sense of sorrow though they were often considered the under-privileged. They had shown, instead, a heart of appreciation, a soul to thank. During my visit, I came to realize that these children instead of asking for pity and sympathy, revealed their determination, courage and readiness to embrace the broad new world ahead with optimism and hope. Their positive attitude became the guiding light for a deep introspection of myself. Why have I always thought myself being superior to them? Arrogance. The pitiable sense of arrogance for being more fortunate. I have since re-positioned myself and emerged as a humble self. Has not the smallest encounter I experienced with these children demonstrated the biggest issue on earth? I wonder. Understanding, gratitude and love are perhaps what we lack in this modern sophisticated world. It is not the quantity we are able to give, but perhaps how much we are able to --- share.
Essay Category:
Essay Question:
We are often misled by the appearance of things, of people, even of ourselves. Write about an appearance that deceived you and analyze its significance to you.
June 28, 2003 - Bienvenidos a Guatemala For the past year, I dreamt of volunteering overseas. I was involved with service work in my community, first working in Good Samaritan Hospital and later founding the first child-based service club at my school. However, I wanted an experience beyond what I was familiar with, and helping overseas was an opportunity for me to experience something new as well as further my commitment to public service. Though I knew my reasons for volunteering abroad, I had qualms. I pictured nursing ill infants and being taught Spanish vocabulary by mischievous teenagers, but in truth, I had no idea what to expect. Only 17 and born to protective Asian parents, I was unsure if I could handle what I saw or if I could even help. July 1, 2003 - Hogar de Marina Guirola Leal It was my first day of work. I was assigned to Hogar de Marina Guirola Leal - an orphanage for abandoned children. As I walked through the heavy wooden doors, I saw the children, most in wheelchairs. The nuns gave me a tour, and all I could see were the twisted limbs, drooling mouths, and empty eyes. I was shocked, uncomfortable, but most of all, scared. Numb from what I saw, my mind was blank. July 5, 2003 - Arriba, abajo I went through the first days in a trance. Still uneasy, I worked tentatively. While changing the urine-soaked sheets, I held the corners. When diapering the children, I winced at their emaciated forms. After mealtime one day, I sat, exhausted and emotionally spent. As I lowered my head, Sindy, a curly-haired girl with a distended cheek deformity, sat and began scratching me. Continuing her game, she lifted my hand and said 'Arriba,' lowered it and said, 'Abajo.' As I repeated the words after her, she beamed and snuggled in the crook of my arm. I had made her happy. July 19, 2003 - Adios Today I said my good-byes. Despite my shaky start, I grew to understand and love every child. I knew who would be difficult to feed and who loved the mango puree. I knew who wanted the rubber ball and who loved back rubs. Santiago cried when he suffered from headaches but grinned when I pushed his wheelchair in circles. Julio ran to me when I walked through the door and loved using my lap as a pillow. Raul was distant and aloof, but bobbed happily whenever I fell on the ground, spilling chicken soup over myself. Despite my initial doubt in my abilities, I felt that I had made a contribution. I felt as if I made their lives a little bit happier by helping them smile. *** Throughout high school, I have been dedicated to helping my community. This short but meaningful experience forced me to test that commitment and has shown me that community service is challenging but rewarding. Though I expected volunteering abroad to be a much different experience, I learned to overcome my initial discomfort, and my work with the children helped me develop emotionally and allowed me to gain confidence in my capabilities. I now know that in the future, no matter where I am or what I do, I will be able to make a contribution in some form to my community and incorporate service into my life.
Essay Category:
Essay Question:
Name a favorite book or movie that you are reluctant to admit you like. Briefly explain why.
I love A Walk to Remember. You might recognize the name from the posters of the teenage movie adaptation or know it as the tearjerker that romantics love. I am sometimes reluctant to admit that it is one of my favorite books because it is a silly romance novel that touches me with its story of 'fated love' between Jamie, a terminally ill idealist, and Landon, the bad-boy in town. Yet, I feel my appreciation for this book reveals other aspects of me. Am I diehard romantic? - Oh yes. Am I looking for love? - Isn't any girl? However, more significantly, I think my love for this book, specifically my admiration of Jamie's positive character, reveals that I am an optimist who gives everything her best shot no matter how bleak the situation. Some call this 'idealism,' believing I foolishly cling to my aspirations. (As a child, I believed that with effort, I could surpass my natural affinity for catastrophe and rise to become a prima ballerina. I'm still working on it - almost got the splits.) I agree that idealism should be accompanied by realism. I agree that A Walk to Remember is not great American literature. However, I love this book because I see a regular teenage girl thrive through her endurance and idealism, and it is my optimism and persistence that allow me to do the same.
Essay Category:
Essay Question:
What is the most important phrase to learn in a foreign language and why?
Born and raised in Taiwan, my mother spoke only Mandarin until she came to the US at age 35, but this never prevented her from communicating with others. She once told me, 'As long as I said 'How are you?' people saw me as polite and kind, so they listened.' I saw the prudence in her words. Kindness is a universal language, so a key to communication and opportunity is to convey this in words. 'Ni hao ma?'
Essay Category:
Essay Question:
In the space provided below, or on a separate sheet if necessary, please describe which of these activities (extracurricular and personal activities or work experience) has had the most meaning for you, and why.
This coming semester, I will be leading Youth Acting for Kids (YAK) in an effort to raise awareness and prompt discussions of world peace as it relates to children and the World Peace Project. We will be visiting local elementary schools, sharing Sadako and the Thousand Paper Cranes, a story of a terminally ill girl who suffers from leukemia due to the radiation left by the atomic bomb in Hiroshima during World War II. In the story, Sadako makes 1000 paper cranes so that, according to Japanese legend, she can receive one wish. Like Sadako, we will teach students to make cranes while leading discussions of peace. The effort will culminate in a donation of 1000 paper cranes to the Lucille Packard Childrens Hospital, symbolizing the wishes of children in the community for the health of the patients. It is because of projects such as this that I co-founded YAK, my high school's first child-focused service club. My objective in creating this club was to add depth to the service work done by students. During my freshman year, I joined many of the community service clubs on campus such as Interact and Octagon. However, after activities such as sorting clothing and gift-wrapping, I was disappointed with the lack of interaction between myself and those I was trying to help. Thus, with YAK, I wanted to give members opportunities to work directly with children for extended periods of time and see the direct impact of their influence. What I didn't expect was how significantly YAK would impact my own personal development. Despite a slow first year plagued by little public interest and suggestions from my peers to abandon the club to avoid 'inevitable disappointment,' I refused to quit because I was passionate about youth service outreach. With perseverance, YAK has grown to include over 100 dedicated members who have developed positive and consistent relationships with children in shelters, hospitals, and elementary schools. From building gingerbread houses with students at Christa McAuliffe Elementary School to reading Dr. Seuss books to the kids at the San Jose Family Shelter, YAK has succeeded in building strong ties between its members and the children around the Bay Area. In leading and witnessing this change, I have realized how service to the community, particularly with children, is something I find personally fulfilling. Specifically, it spurred me to work in Guatemala this summer and has motivated me to pursue service work as a primary focus in college.
Essay Category:
Essay Question:
Sharing intellectual interests is an important aspect of university life. Describe an experience, literary work, class, project or idea that you find intellectually exciting, and explain why.
Three years ago, I was known as 'Mini-Hanna.' I looked like my sister, talked like her, and with a extracurricular list of tennis, debate, and Mock Trial, had a schedule that even mirrored hers. I always thought I knew who I was, but the constant comparisons between my sister and me threw me into an identity crisis where I began to question who 'I' was. I found this reflection of 'self' an intellectually stimulating issue that has led me to question my concept of identity and the forces that shape it. My parents are Taiwanese, but I was raised in America. Does my American citizenship or Chinese ethnicity dominate? In an increasingly global society, does this artificial construct of 'nationality' matter? Yet, if 'nationality' doesn't describe identity, what does? A name? In that case, am I 'Megan' or 'Qiu Zhuan-Huei?' Perhaps that depends on whether I am at home or at school? If this is true, does my environment dictate my identity? Does this suggest that my identity is always changing? These questions have confused but aided me in my search for myself. I have been slowly finding 'me' by carving my own path, replacing tennis and Mock Trial with my passions: Youth Acting for Kids and art. While more 'myself' now, I know I will change. I know that my identity isn't static and that my questions about this complex concept will continue to help shape my individuality in the future.
Essay Category:
Essay Question:
Topic of your choice: Personal Statement
Zip Code - 11357. I hit the Return key. My friend Joanne and I sit in front of the computer screen as we wait for weather.com to load. The page opens with its seven day forecast. 'Yes! It's raining tonight! Less competition!' exclaims Joanne. Although we have wanted to see RENT for months now, the infamous second term of junior year had kept us waiting. Now that it was summer, we were finally free to see Angel, the drag queen, dance in high heels and watch the whole cast sing about the beauties of 'la vie boheme'. It would be my third time trying to win RENT lottery tickets. For the uninitiated, lottery tickets allow winners to pay twenty dollars, rather than one hundred dollars, for front row seats. And RENT is one of those shows that can only be watched from ront row seats. The first time I tried to win RENT lottery tickets I arrived too late to enter my name. So as not to waste the two dollars that I had spent on subway fare, I spent an extra thirty dollars to watch Assassins with my friend Nami instead. The effervescent balladeer played by Neil Patrick Harris became the talk of the week, but Cary Shields of RENT was still in the spotlight of my heart. The second time around I actually submitted my name, but when neither I nor my friend Jennifer was called, we walked over to Little Shop of Horrors. It was enjoyable, but in my heart there was still space for 'RENT' (pun intended). So now, for the third time, I stand in front of Nederlander Theater, waiting in the rain for my name to be called. The man with the megaphone draws out a slip of paper and calls out the first name. Angela Stephanopolous. Sheesh, not even close! Next name. Matthew Smith. Then, just as I begin to wish that I were his date, since the maximum request for lottery tickets is two, I hear my name blaring from the megaphone. Esther Jang. 'Oh! Yeah! Me!' I shout as I run to the back of the line of winners with Joanne. We incredulously enter the Nederlander Theater to take our wonderful second row seats. I flip through the playbill but in my excitement, I am unable to read any of it. I sit in my seat thinking about the last few weeks; they were an entire lifetime. Not that they were insufferably long, but they contained the protoplasm of life: the mistakes, bad luck and rainy days(bad and good), and more importantly, the excitement, happiness and success. I look up at the stage and notice the bleak set, a ghetto neighborhood in New York City. Sometimes, my life seems as bleak as this set. But like the show, my life is not all about the set. 'Seasons of Love' starts to play in my head. '525,600 minutes... 525,000 journeys to plan...' Life is 'the laughter, the strife... the truths that we learn, the times that we cry' but above all, it is what we make of the 525,600 minutes we have each year. All my life I have lived this way and finally, I have found a way to express it with a simple song.
Essay Category:
Essay Question:
Discuss some issue of personal, local, national, or international concern and its importance to you.
The world is affected by a multitude of illnesses at this moment in time: AIDS, cancer, and global warming are just several. I wish to help the earth in my own way, and that is through research of the human brain and its diseases, particularly Creutzfeldt-Jakob, the disease caused by the so-called Mad Cow Disease. The brain is our most significant device. It is the core of our nervous system, the organ that enables us to think as scientists, philosophers, and human beings, and the storage center of our treasured memories. It is also the victim of a variety of afflictions: stroke, epilepsy, Alzheimer's, and Creutzfeldt-Jakob, to name a few. I am troubled by the lack of complete knowledge there exists about the human brain today; there is surely not enough if we want to protect ourselves and others from all its possible afflictions, particularly the one most often on the news today: Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease, which humans may be able to contract from eating beef infected with 'Mad Cow Disease,' or Bovine Spongiform Encephalopathy (BSE). To help with this general lack of knowledge within the global, scientific community, I wish to engage in research on the human brain whether or not BSE will still be an issue when I manage to find a full-time job in research. Most likely even then we will not have uncovered the many mysteries of the brain. Knowing about the brain is not a narrow issue; it involves the entire human race and probably even more than that. It also includes various fields of study: not only chemistry and biology but also psychology. Everything we do involves the brain, from sitting to analyzing to meditating. There is no way around it: we need to discover more and the sooner the better. Our safety depends on it. The way to facilitate this would be for me to enter research that involves the brain. I believe any willing scientist is a candidate, and I'm certainly up for the challenge. Mad Cow Disease is an issue where science and technology will be most useful. Through research, I could find out exactly how BSE is transmitted, where and when it strikes, and how to cure it. With a strong background in biology and chemistry, I could be one of the few to make great strides in this area. With additional scientists working on it, the chances increase of finding a cure faster, and I am willing to help in any way. Studying the brain in any way would aid the human race. Philosophers and other great thinkers have made impressive strides in analyzing human nature to untold depths. Science also should take a stand and reveal additional truths about the brain using the scientific method of hypothesizing and experimenting within the lab. I believe all knowledge is ultimately connected, and if scientists can amass more knowledge of the human mind and share that knowledge, the awareness of the human race will be able to increase. We'd be able to improve ourselves not only in our scientific knowledge but as a whole. We could dramatically change the way we think about ourselves and other people. More importantly, we could protect ourselves and our minds from our own afflictions, psychological and biological. In future years, I hope that significant advancements are made on BSE and its connection with humans and other living things. Fighting one disease at a time, perhaps humans will finally be able to conquer their various illnesses, maybe not completely but at least enough to avoid living in fear of them constantly.
Essay Category:
Essay Question:
Evaluate a significant experience, achievement, risk you have taken, or ethical dilemma you have faced and its impact on you.
It was 8:00 A.M. on the first day of the Tournament of Champions National Debate
Tournament (TOC), and I was utterly exhausted from researching, writing
arguments, and doing practice debates the day before. I was also jittery and
excited, for I was finally competing at the most prestigious high school policy
debate tournament in the country. Only 72 teams were accepted into the
tournament, and this Holy Grail of debate had eluded me for a year and a half.
In
my junior year, my partner and I were put on the waiting list for the
tournament,
and then, three days before the tournament, a spot opened up. My partner and I
immediately began working on debate like crazed fanatics, tossing homework aside
in order to prepare for the tournament, then flying across the country to
compete. Although badly unprepared, we were ecstatic.
In the first round, our opponents were Westminster School's top team, among the
16 best teams in the country. Their arguments were excellent, and despite our
most valiant attempts we lost that round. Rounds 2, 4, 5, and 6 had similar
outcomes, and the win/loss record for my first year at TOC was 2:5. Two wins,
five losses. It was depressingly reminiscent of sophomore year, when nearly
every
tournament had ended with a losing record.
Sunday night, after the seven prelim rounds were finished, gloom hung over my
head. I was functioning on four hours of sleep and doubts were gleefully
parading
through my fatigued head. I was missing classes to be here and had spent the
last
week preparing for the tournament rather than the AP exams that were beginning
in
five days. My teachers had suggested that I skip the tournament and my parents
had been hesitant to support me. What would they say when they heard about my
dismal performance this weekend? My blood began to boil at the
thought of the 'I told you so,'s that I'd be hearing in a few days, and suddenly
the debater in me stood up and aimed an evil glare in my direction.
She demanded to know why I was moping around like a whiny second-grader. I liked
debate, didn't I? I'd chosen to come here, knowing that the competition would be
intense, and had opted to spend my time embroiled in fast, heated arguments
about
foreign policy and weapons of mass destruction. I'd debated decently in all of
the rounds, and there was no justification for sitting on my bum and brooding.
A bit shocked at first, I realized that the irate debater manifestation of
myself was correct. I was obsessed with debate, and still haven't found anything
as stimulating and invigorating as the fierce, intellectual arguing that is
policy debate. Unlike other forms of debate, policys focused on argumentation
rather than rhetoric, and it pulled out a confrontational, aggressive side of me
that none of my other academic activities could. The multitude of rounds that I
lost in tenth grade, although dismal, only served to make me stronger, more
tenacious, and more determined to succeed. And the work had paid off; even if my
showing at TOC hadn't been stellar, I'd made it into elimination rounds at other
national tournaments in my junior year. Furthermore, despite having only three
days' notice, I'd held my own against some of the best teams in the country,
teams that had been preparing for two months. The chance to face off against
some
of the most intelligent people in the activity was more than worth the lost
study
time.
People ask me why I debate, why I choose to participate in an activity that
takes up most of my weekends, my spare time, and weeks of every summer for
tournaments and camps. The answer, which my debater self reminded me of at TOC,
is that policy debate challenges me. It demands work, obsession, and passion.
Schoolwork, sports, music - none of those hobbies is as intense as debate, and
none of them has taught me as much as debate has. From debate, I've learned
about
a wide variety of topics: deaf education policies, racial profiling, critical
race theory, and Bowers v. Hardwick, for starters. Furthermore, debate has
taught
me about life - from the countless rounds where Ive had to give a speech
extemporaneously, I've developed an ability to appear self-assured and
competent.
That has bled over into life outside of debate, and I find that I'm much more
self-confident and forceful in front of people than I used to be. More
importantly, debate has made me critical and skeptical. Everything is open to
attack in debate, since the point is to seek out the holes in your opponent's
arguments and then blast them into craters with the cannons of logic and
evidence. After spending hours playing this game, I can't take anything for
granted - information that teachers present, articles in the news, formerly
sacrosanct religious beliefs, all are scrutinized from a doubting point of view.
It's as if I have to intellectually dissect whatever thought is presented to me
before I can take a stance on it. I've been debating for three years, going on
four, and yet my obsession with this activity of intellectual skirmishing has
yet
to fade.
Essay Category:
Essay Question:
Personal statement
One of the main activities of the Junior Classical League (JCL) is certamen, a buzzer game that's Quizbowl with a Classical twist: all of the questions are about ancient civilization. In ninth grade, when I started taking Latin, my teacher would use the last few minutes of class for a bit of certamen practice. Although we only had time for two or three questions, each reference to an unfamiliar nymph or a quirky Roman bathing habit spurred me to learn more about the ancient world. The Classics were a foreign realm to me, and the tidbits of knowledge that I picked up in the certamen questions were entrancing hints that an ancient civilization had once thrived in Rome and Greece. I chose to focus on mythology and Roman customs, and studied fiercely. My teacher took the school's JCLers to competitions, and through attending local, state, and regional certamens I met people who passionate about ancient Greece and Rome. We challenged one another to see who was the quickest at answering questions and argued about obscure mythology. I continued to play certamen for the next three years, and although winning competitions and correctly answering questions were thrilling, the true allure of certamen was that it pushed me to learn more about Latin than basic grammar and translation. Since certamen questions covered a wide range of topics, from Roman history to grammar to Latin derivatives, in order to succeed I had to study subjects beyond what I learned in class. As my interest in certamen grew, I started to write certamen questions as well as compete in tournaments. As opposed to simply reading Meridian Handbook of Classical Mythology and attempting to master its contents via rote memorization, writing questions demanded that I absorb the stories of the capricious Olympians and think how to best test the information in the format of a certamen question. Writing them certainly increased my skills at the game, since I was retaining more information, but it was primarily a way to learn more about the fascinating cultures that had once flourished on the Mediterranean. These were militaristic civilizations that had conquered the greater part of Europe, but they were also the poetic realms that had produced Homer and Vergil. At first, Dr. Duncan, an ex-JCLer who dropped by Harker to help the Latin students with certamen practice posted my questions online on the Certamen Questions Database. Although I knew that very few people were using my questions, I was still excited at the idea that my work was available to other people. In my own way, I was promoting the study of the Classics, spreading knowledge of this bygone but fascinating world. I spent my weekends perusing the official, JCL-sanctioned sourcebooks for certamen and wrote questions for whole sections of Mythology, by Edith Hamilton. Although my early questions were basic, a hundred and fifty questions later, my question-writing skills have improved dramatically and my certamen questions possessed the same flair and tested for the same depth of knowledge that questions from the National Junior Classical Leagues certamens did. Last summer Dr. Duncan published Myth Mayhem, a book of more than a thousand certamen questions on the material in Mythology, and we sold many copies at the National JCL convention. I wrote over three hundred of the questions in Mayhem. The thrill of seeing my work in print was certainly exciting, but the true joy came when teachers and students from across the country bought Myth Mayhem - people would be using my questions to further their own knowledge of mythology! Three years after starting certamen, I remain excited about all the details of the Classical world that I don't know - yet. Continuing with writing questions, I'm now writing a book similar to Myth Mayhem, but this time around I'm expanding my horizons to write on Latin literature rather than mythology, and I'm doing it independently. My questions are based on Moses Hadas' A History of Latin Literature, and my goal is to present the information contained in the book in an engaging format that is more accessible to the average JCLer than Hadas' dull, if informative, prose. Thus far, I've written 227 questions on subjects ranging from Plautus to Cicero, and with determination and a bit of luck, next summer I'll be selling a book filled with thousands of questions on Latin literature at the National JCL convention.
Essay Category:
Essay Question:
This question seeks to give students the opportunity to share important aspects of their schooling or their lives, such as personal circumstances, family experiences and opportunities that were or were not available at their school or college, which may not have been sufficiently addressed elsewhere in the application. Is there anything you would like us to know about you or your academic record that you have not had the opportunity to describe elsewhere in the application?
I have always loved art. However, my parents believed I would be more productive using my time in other ways and never supported my efforts. Nevertheless, I have always found ways to incorporate it in my life. With projects, I took the extra step of designing posters of historical movies. For my school magazine, I drew charcoal sketches to accompany my poems. Art instills within me a tranquility that erases all worries that I may have on my mind. I have grown up in a household where anything less than an 'A is unacceptable. The consistent pressure from my family to excel academically, coupled with responsibilities of forensics and community service, often causes stress to mount until I reach an almost breaking point. However, art relieves me of this stress. Whenever my hands become immersed in transforming a blank canvas into a setting sun, my mind is occupied with nothing but the strokes of the paintbrush. While art doesn't finish my monstrous piles of work, it does give me peace of mind. It is my form of expression where I am able to channel all my frustrations, happiness, and raw emotions into what I view as tangible expressions of myself and what others call, 'Art.'
Essay Category:
Essay Question:
What is the best piece of advice you ever received?
'The best advice that you can ever receive is from yourself; listen to yourself.' - My friend, Tony. I always believed that I could learn from others' advice, but after hearing these words, I know that when I combine others' wisdom with my experiences and self-reflection, an ultimate solution will arise that will suit both me and my circumstances.
Essay Category:
Essay Question:
Tell us something about yourself that is not readily apparent from your application
'Wait, don't throw that away!' My incessant need to preserve candy wrappers, ticket stubs, and receipts is an obsession that friends claim sets me apart from everyone else. After every trip, memorable event, or personal success, I make a scrapbook. For some, it is a timeless tradition, and for others it is an activity people do in their free time. For me, the experience of making scrapbooks is a means to catalogue my memories and record what is important. Flipping through a scrapbook, you will find a sepia photograph of the Tower of London, carefully mounted on a mat of ivory wallpaper decorated by leftover gold filigree wrapping paper. A few pages later, you may find a plastic bag of volcanic ash and pocket lint from Volcan Pacaya positioned next to a picture of me grinning with handfuls of volcanic stones. This seemingly meticulous work was produced effortlessly, not because I am a scrapbook-making prodigy, but because it is a treasured hobby that integrates my love of art with my desire to have a lasting memoir. They are personally significant because they combine my passion for art, my creativity in crafts, and my sentimentality by cataloguing my remembrances into a lasting memoir.
Essay Category:
Essay Question:
Personal Statement
'My dear, do you think the risk is worth to take?' Mum asked with anxiety. I nodded and grinned with determination. The United World College in Hong Kong that I attended for my pre-university course helped us organize a Project Week in an Asian country of our choice annually. Mr. Udy, our vice-principal emphasized that we should try to break away from our circle of comfort as a process of growing up. In my first year, I chose to do a service project for handicapped children in Hanoi where deformity was believed to have been caused by Agent Orange. I took six fellow students with me. Being American, my heart was filled with apprehension and uncertainty before I went. I wondered if the Vietnamese still harbored some hostile feelings for the Americans, especially those who had suffered in the 'American War' as they called it, and whose children had fallen victims to Agent Orange. 'One in every ten Vietnamese was wounded or killed in the war against America. If the U.S. had suffered a proportional number of casualties, it would have seen twenty-seven million people dead.' When I arrived in Hanoi, the backwardness of the country struck me. While touring in the Old Quarters, children and old people chased after us for money, others pushed their goods at us trying to sell them. Some kids were hardly ten. Having a little sister nine years of age, I pitied them more. But I staunchly refused to buy anything from them, for I didn't want to encourage child labor. We started our week in a vocational training school for handicapped children. Armed with an eager heart, we brought them clothes and toys. By the time we got off the primitive van which bumped along a dirt road for forty-five minutes, we found the teachers and liaison officers warmly waiting for our arrival. After a brief introduction, we were given time to interact with the children. Taking a deep breath, I bravely held out my hand to a dwarfish girl. She looked at me, smiled and grabbed my hand. Her disarming smile melted all the fear and doubt in my heart. Together we spent a most enjoyable afternoon. We taught the children games and English songs. Although we spoke a completely different tongue, there was no barrier between us. We spoke the fraternal language of the human souls. This was a risk I took, and it turned out to be most rewarding. I was happy to have won the hearts of the children and the friendship of the people. What could be more valuable than that? I will always treasure their gift of forgiveness and pragmatism, and their acceptance of all the consequences of a meaningless war. Witnessing the abject poverty, the catastrophe and the devastating effect of war, I raised a question in my mind: Is war necessary to attain peace? Nobel Peace Prize winner and former American president, Jimmy Carter's answer to the question is 'No'. I wholeheartedly share his view.
