Essay Category:
Essay Question:
Major Essay - Personal Statement
Throughout my secondary school career, I have really dedicated much of my time to furthering my knowledge of science and conducting research. I have been involved in several different research endeavors over the last few years and have won numerous distinctions. Over the last three years, through my extensive involvement in environmental preservation, I came to realize that there are many severe problems that urban lakes are facing in our modern era. I chose to examine the effects of eutrophication (the process by which a body of water becomes rich in phosphate compounds and becomes shallow with marked deficiencies in dissolved oxygen) in local bodies of water in the Los Angeles Area, namely Madrona Marsh (City of Torrance) and Harbor Lake Machado (Harbor City), and found that phosphate pollution was extremely severe in these areas. After extensive research, I found that phosphate binders, common substances used to treat medical patients with phosphate retention, could be used in this situation, and I devised a filtration system to remove phosphate and ammonia through ion-exchange and accelerated denitrification. I was extremely excited to find that these filters were extremely successful, and currently, the City of Torrance is in the process of funding construction of these filters at Madrona Marsh. For this research, I was awarded best of category and first place at the Intel International Science and Engineering Fair in Environmental Science in May 2002. In addition, I have won third place at the Intel International Science and Engineering Fair in 2001, as well as first place at the California State Science Fair and Los Angeles County Science Fair. I am in the process of patenting this filtration system and am submitting my paper for publication to several national journals. I am also participating in the Intel Science Talent Search and the Siemens Westinghouse Science Competition, in which I currently hold semi-finalist status, with this work. I hope that this research will eventually lead to the betterment of lake ecosystems throughout the world. In addition to this research, I have also worked under Dr. Vito M. Campese, M.D., chief of the Division of Nephrology, University of Southern California Keck School of Medicine, for the past three years conducting research on neurogenic hypertension. I have worked extensively in this lab utilizing several techniques, including nephrectomy, femoral artery catheterization, DNA extraction, polymerase chain reaction, reverse transcription, and western blotting. This research has produced two papers for publication, entitled 'Renal Injury Caused by Intrarenal Injection of Phenol Increases Afferent and Efferent Renal Sympathetic Nerve Activity' (American Journal of Hypertension 2002; 15(8):717-724) and 'Reactive Oxygen Species (ROS) Stimulate Central and Peripheral Sympathetic Nervous System Activity' (In Approval Stages), in both of which I am a co-author. I have spent over 1000 hours during the past three years conducting research at the University of Southern California, and this type of research particularly interests me. My ultimate dream is to pursue an academic research career. Research has truly been a rewarding experience in my life. I have worked more than 2000 hours during my years as a secondary school student, and I know that my future will be in scientific research and investigation. Through my counselors, previous university alumni from my school, and my own research, I have found that this would be a perfect fit for me in every way. The extensive research conducted there, specifically in natural sciences, and the caliber of the professors with whom I would be working would truly allow me to grow and mature as a scientist, which is my ultimate lifetime goal. I think that my intellectual curiosity, dedication towards research, and extensive experience will contribute greatly to the university community.
Essay Category:
Essay Question:
Major Essay - Describe the most important activity in high school?
My Efforts in Preserving the Environment Of all the activities in which I have been involved, I have been most passionate and committed to environmental preservation and restoration. I have dedicated much of my time outside my rigorous academic schedule to environmental service and have served and continue to serve on the executive boards of several organizations that are committed to this very goal. Since seventh grade, I have spent many hours doing conservation work and I realized the only way to further this goal is to be active politically and by drawing commitment from other people. With this in mind, in ninth grade, I founded the Environmental Sciences Club at my school and became its president. In my three years at Palos Verdes Peninsula High School, I have encouraged more than 200 students to commit more than 3000 hours in conservation efforts to make my school one of the most active groups in the area. That year, I was invited by the president of our local chapter of the National Audubon Society to speak at the national conference in Asilomar, California, about the significance of youth in environmental service and I was conferred the Audubon Youth Environmental Service (YES!) Award for my work. I subsequently received an invitation to join the Palos Verdes Peninsula Land Conservancy Board of Directors as a student representative. In tenth grade, I spearheaded an effort to create the Audubon YES! Council to help coordinate youth environmental activities throughout the South Bay. This council, of which I am currently vice president, now comprises representatives from over twenty high schools acting diligently to increase awareness and promote student involvement. In recognition of my efforts, I was awarded the first Audubon YES! Council award by the Palos Verdes South Bay Audubon Society in 2002, and I was made a student YES! Council representative of their board of directors. In 2000, I created a school-wide recycling program for cans, bottles, and aluminum. After many frustrated attempts, I was finally able to get approval for the program and locate private sources willing to donate all necessary equipment to the school. Since its inception, the Environmental Sciences Club has very successfully headed this program. Concurrently, I conducted in-depth research to reduce water pollution, and served as a consultant to the Friends of Madrona Marsh Board of Directors and the Harbor Park Advisory Council on water quality issues. In recognition of these various efforts, I was conferred the 2002 Palos Verdes South Bay Audubon Society Youth Conservation Award, given annually to the student who best exemplifies conservation efforts in the local and regional communities. I also received the 2002 Palos Verdes Peninsula Coordinating Council and County of Los Angeles Board of Supervisors Teen Service Awards. During secondary school, I have dedicated over 1400 hours to these efforts, and this impacted my life in many positive ways. I have learned the value of community work where results can only be achieved with the collaboration of many people, organizations, and elected representatives working together in conjunction towards a cleaner, healthier, and balanced world. The protection of our environment is an unending task. It is hard, unpredictable work but vital to our survival and to the quality of our lives on this planet. I am very proud to be a part of it, but at the same time humbled by the immensity of the task ahead of us.
Essay Category:
Essay Question:
Major Essay - describe a unique experience in high school.
It is a sad fact that many species on this planet are endangered or have become extinct due to human activities, especially in recent decades. I have always had a strong desire to be part of efforts to stem or reverse this trend. Due to my many environmental efforts and research that I conducted to reduce water pollution, I was afforded the unique opportunity to visit the Amazon Rainforest in August 2002 to study two species of endangered turtles in the Araguaia National Park (Ilha do Bananal), Brazil. Because of my first place finish in the environmental sciences division at the Los Angeles County Science Fair in 2002, I was also awarded a Helen and Peter Bing Earthwatch Fellowship for the expedition, which included a full share of cost payment and a travel stipend. This project was co-sponsored by the Earthwatch Institute, the Tocantins State University, and Instituto Ecolsgica of Brazil. I had the pleasure of working with a diverse international team of volunteers and researchers for two weeks in a remote region of the Amazon. Our goal was to locate and preserve hundreds of turtle nests from predation by transferring the eggs to safer locations. We also used granulometrics and thermographs to show the correlation between temperature, humidity, and grain sizes to incubation period and sex determination. The two species of turtles involved were the Tracaja (Podocnemis unifilis) and the Amazonian (Podocnemis expansa); these are endangered for many reasons: illegal poaching, deforestation, water pollution, and climate change. The work that was done in the two weeks of the project will hopefully save thousands of turtles and help in the long run to increase the turtle populations back to self-sustaining levels. Overall, the project was extremely successful, and hopefully will make a difference in the protection of these extremely important and beautiful animals. The epitome of the trip was by far the day sighting of a female Tracaja laying eggs. Such a sight is so rare in these early night-laying turtles that the principal investigator, Dr. Adriana Malvasio, had only seen it twice in the many years that she has worked with the animals. Even more amazing, the second group had also found a turtle on another beach. It was almost as though fate had determined for us to find these turtles that morning commemorating our two weeks of work in helping these turtles. A coincidence or an act of fate - something we will never know; but it certainly brought to a grand finale the trip of a lifetime. This was truly an exciting experience, and I hope that I will someday get the opportunity to visit the Amazon once again. I would have to say that the Amazon Turtles expedition was definitely one of the best experiences of my life thus far, if not the best -- it is certainly something that will stay with me for rest of my life. The friendly people, the unique surroundings, and the invaluable environmental work really came together to make this a truly memorable trip.
Essay Category:
Essay Question:
Essentially, talk about something important to you in 500 words. There were various permutations in the wording between Princeton, Yale, Columbia, Georgetown, and UVA, but this was my general "major" essay.
Consider the Piet`, by Michelangelo. Not his first Piet`, the masterpiece with
Mary forever youthful and mourning over the luminous Christ, finished at 23 and
enshrined in St. Peter's Basilica, but his afterthought. Michelangelo said that
in sculpting, rather than imposing his will on the block, the statue is already
perfectly formed inside of the marble; he merely chips away the stone concealing
it. His last Piet` Rondanini was left half-delivered on his death at age
ninety.
It is a coincidence of history that the Christ and Mary are frozen stepping
from
the marble, almost dripping off like water at their feet, and their torsos are
obscured by the rough grain stone. Form and imagination meet in this Piet`, and
it proves that the artist's saw is not hubris, but his own deep sensibility of
form.
Michelangelo's renaissance sensibility is also modern. Karl Popper's
epistemology of falsification is the enormous chisel that divides what we know
from what must be. Science exalts and humbles its student, whose deepest
insight
is the removal of chaff. There is truth in data obscured by the opacity of
ignorance, and so analysis is a chipping away. Plodding sterility brooding over
the pure marble, the dispassionate scientific method has no taste for insight
unless it is reproducible. Intuition and the chipping away become negative
images that meet in beauty, where science and art are the mind becoming one with
the external.
I learned this at the National Institute of Health. My research involves data
from PET scans of sleeping patents, which we correlate with
electroencephalograms
to learn how brain metabolism is reflected in brain wave patterns. One thing we
have noticed is that while it's commonly thought that brain activity decreases
generally across the brain as a person goes deeper into sleep, there are some
regions that actually decrease less. This is exciting, and something which we
seek to explain, and yet, my work has also been extremely mundane. I spent time
dividing the brain into 200-odd general anatomical regions for comparison among
subjects, and I spent long hours tweaking the mathematical form of the data.
Often, it would seem like meaningless numerology.
Yet, to find a conclusion in
one of these forms that relates back to the brain itself through all the
numerical and formal abstractions, to all the brains of our subjects, is a
moment
of beauty where insight illuminates a drab chain of logic and cuts off a chip of
marble that never truly belonged.
Essay Category:
Essay Question:
Personal Statement: Topic of your choice.
The heat was overwhelming. Sweat trickled down my forehead in steady, eye-stinging beads. I bent over to grab another bundle of rice seedlings, and suddenly the world went out in a white hot flash. Strong arms caught me before I hit the mud. I dimly recognized my aunt's sunburned face, caught between a worried frown and a sympathetic smile. 'Sun stroke,' she whispered, 'to the shade with you.' Surging with undisguised relief, I half-crawled, half-stumbled into the refuge beneath a tree, and plucked off the conical straw hat that had failed to shield me from the assault of the July sun. I must have been quite a sight to behold to the knowing eye: a city girl sitting on the edge of a paddy field in northern Vietnam, up to the knees in drying mud, suffering from sunstroke on the first day of the planting season. Leaning against the cool surface of the tree bark, I tried in vain to avoid thinking about the reasons that had brought me there in the first place. My experiment with manual labor was supposed to keep at bay the reality that I was, in a sense, running away. It didn't work. I found my mind being inexorably drawn back to my cool, mud-free house in Hanoi. In Hanoi, reminded my frustratingly one-track brain, there were also SATs, the advent of the final year of high school, and, looming darkly on the horizon, the US college application process. At this thought, the ringing in my head was replaced by sharp stabs of guilt as I searched myself for the source of my weakness. For years, I had painstakingly sketched out my post-school education plan with unceasing enthusiasm, but now when it came to the actual plunge, why did college intimidate me so? I had always considered myself flexible, open to changes, and reasonably sure of myself whenever there were challenges to overcome. I had not been, for instance, paralyzed by the language and culture barriers that faced me when, at twelve years old, I had suddenly been whisked away to New York City. When English finally became a part of me, it was exhilarating but not surprising. Then before I knew it, I was back in my native Vietnam, and floundering for breath in the stifling, exam-frenzied classroom of the country's best-known 'and most competitive- public high school. Somehow, I had found a way to cope with that as well. Big changes -cultural and otherwise - were not, therefore, a wholly new territory. Why then? Possibly, it was because college would be like nothing I had faced. Even in New York, I had had my family by my side. Plus, high school was an environment whose challenges I knew well. In college, I would no longer be slogging through the same rote exams in pursuit of trivial grades. I would, for the first time in my life, be studying for myself, in preparation for what would come next - real life. I would not be able to blame the challenges I would undoubtedly confront in the future on circumstances beyond my control, for studying abroad had been entirely my choice. There was the crux of my problem: fear of taking risks. Applying to college had given me the first whiff of life as an adult, and I could not be certain I was entirely ready for that leap. I was rudely shaken out of contemplation by the shrill trilling of cicadas in my ears, and the dull thuds of heavy hooves. Caught off-guard, I gazed in horror at the grinning face of my cousin, who perched atop a huge water buffalo, his family's cud-chewing tractor. The animal bellowed loudly at the same time my cousin spoke: 'Want a ride?' The first time I had been offered a buffalo ride, I had been four, and visiting this place, my father's ancestral home, for the first time. Unlike my country-born father, I had been out of my depth and had refused with tears. Maybe this time - Maybe not. I declined the offer quickly while the animal shook its fearsome horns in my direction, and seethed at my cousin's patronizing chuckle as his mammoth steed lumbered away. Picking at the flakes of mud on my calf, I pondered the different life circumstances that had bound me to books and modern appliances, and ordained my cousin the King of the Water Buffalo. Yet come September this country-savvy boy was going to attend the National Economics University in Hanoi. His parents were breaking their backs in the fields some ten paces to my left, and he was going to college in a city he hardly knew. My father had done the same, leaving the land his forbearers had tilled for a dozen generations, and gone to university. He had taken a risk, and had changed his life for the better. As I looked around at the fields of red earth slowly growing green, I realized that my father and cousin were not the only ones changing. On the horizon, factories were springing up in former paddy fields. Tractors would soon be replacing the frightening water buffalo as the farmer's best friend. Vietnam was awakening after years of sleep under the conservative rule of its communist government, and was now realizing that the world had nearly left her behind. My country now sped to catch up, and was making good progress. A new wave was rising, a change that began within every Vietnamese, and it hinted of a bright future. I wanted to be part of that wave. If my cousin could leave his family and the life he had always known to pursue an education, then so could I. Somewhere beyond the borders of my country, there was a college waiting for me, promising a new start, knowledge, and most of all, change. My anxiety lingered, but was not so pungent and debilitating as before; I was finally beginning to see a way through. College, much like riding a buffalo, was an unknown, and the only way to dispel the doubt was to meet it headfirst. I would embark upon this new journey equipped with all the understanding and experience that had helped me in earlier adventures, as well as a wish for more. Tomorrow, I thought, I am going back to Hanoi. My Hanoi, ancient and elegant, bred a race of deep and quietly graceful people with a conservative streak. But even we Hanoians are willing to change in order to bring our country up-to-speed with the world. Sitting on the dyke beside my aunt's paddy field, I felt eager to confront the challenges that lay before me. There was, however, one thing I had to do first. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see my cousin untying his buffalo, finishing for the day. He barely noticed me approaching, and jumped at my next words: 'So, how about that ride?'
Essay Category:
Essay Question:
Name an item that is special to you and explain why it is.
'Mama says they was magic shoes. They could take me anywhere.' Forrest Gump Here he comes again, stomping down the stairs with big thumps. Even as I sit here on the other side of the house, I can feel the ground shake as he approaches. His face soon appears above my soles as his bare feet slide on top of me. The moment I feel his calloused feet against my foot beds, I wonder what our next adventure will be. Hardly a day passes when I am not with him. Every day through sun, wind, rain, and yes, even snow, I protect his feet. People tell him that he is crazy for wearing Birkenstock sandals in the winter, but I know that I am special to him. He is always running'to school, to Student Council meetings, to volunteer at the hospital - so I suppose that is why he and I are always a pair; he just needs to slip me on, and he is set to run out the door. We share many memories. I will never forget those long physics lab periods when he would pour over his work, making sure he examined every aspect of an experiment, or those days he would stay after school just to run extra trials. I could always tell whenever he got frustrated because his right foot would begin to shake, but he never quit; his curiosity would not let him. I remember days in government class when he would get into political debates with his teacher. Sometimes he would win, sometimes he would not, but he always came out of them more knowledgeable about the topic than he had been going in. He is never afraid to speak his mind and stand up for what matters to him. Together, we have marched in human rights protests in New York City, circulated petitions at his school, and fought the school board for club funding. Sometimes, he even fights with his brother for the remote control, but that's him, always passionate about what he does. Yet he never forgets about his other interests, however small. Sometimes we hang out in Barnes and Noble as he flips through magazines, looking for articles on international politics. There are sunny days we go to the park and toss Frisbees with his friends and rainy days we run out and dance in the rain. As a duo, we once joined in a snowball fight, only quitting when his feet began to turn shades of blue. I even remember, though not fondly, the day he used me as a projectile while horsing around with his friends. Still, I never miss a beat, even on sprints with his greyhound. I know he remembers the same things. Perhaps Forrest Gump's mother was right when she said that there are such things as magic shoes. But I am magical for a different reason: I can not only take my friend anywhere, but I can also take him to his memories of where he has been and what he has done. He will never leave me because we share these memories that pictures cannot capture. I know that when we arrive home after a long day, he will carefully place me in my corner spot near the door. There I will sit and wait, until I can again feel the rumble of his footsteps.
Essay Category:
Essay Question:
General personal/candidate statement. Also, an essay describing a triumph. I used it for both questions.
Every young person has had some struggle, some grand accomplishment suitable for the college application essay--some intense effort wrought with pain and the eventual thrill of triumph. With this in mind, it seems apropos to recount a trying time in my life that is one of most defining first experiences. 'I'm not going to do it," I protested though I knew it would do no good. And so began my tale of woe: My first pull-up! Not a matter of life or death, I know, but a struggle nonetheless, and these things always seem worse during the anticipation. I already looked foolish enough, wearing the most athletic-looking thing in my closet that somehow never looked quite right on me. So why not complete the humiliation by failing miserably in front of the entire team? "I'm just a coxswain," I sighed as I grabbed hold of a metal bar that had proven to be the bane of my existence. Staring up at this, I thought about how utterly unnecessary the process was. I could be doing anything else! But I knew from the expression on my coach's face that I was doing nothing else until I got my chin over that bar. Tired and frustrated, I decided to give it a try. And so I tried, not just tried, but tried hard. Apparently, something inside me wanted to do this. I was not going to let an inanimate metal rod beat me. I was better than that. It wasn't just competitiveness that got me up there, though, and as much as drive to succeed motivates, it wasn't that either. I think it was looking down at my bow seat's hands, blistered and battered from weeks upon weeks of driving an oar through the water. She was cheering for me. The whole team was, and so I did it. And when I came down, I was barely aware of the minor physical accomplishment. Instead, I focused on the realization of what it meant to really be part of a team. The support, the camaraderie, and the understanding were all manifested in this one small act. This was what I truly saw as an accomplishment at that moment. In retrospect, I have realized that this event has served as a metaphor for how I deal with challenge in general. I believe that when faced with adversity, it is of paramount importance to stand firm and grab hold of the bar. That is why this event stands out in my mind, turning the simple narrative of a coxswain's first pull-up into a struggle worth mentioning.
Essay Category:
Essay Question:
We ask you to write a personal essay that will help us to know you better. You should feel confident that in writing about what matters to you, you are bound to convey a strong sense of who you are. (major essay, personal statement, 500+ words)
On a cold dark March day, TeamAlaska, the indoor soccer team that was to represent Alaska in the 2000 International Winter Games in Canada, began a 700-mile bus ride to Whitehorse in the Canadian Yukon. Only months removed from a lifetime of playing soccer and hanging out at the beach under the Southern California sun, I was off to represent Alaska as a member of this team. At tryouts two months earlier, the coach had asked me where I was from. My response was 'Southern California.' With a puzzled look on his face, he asked me how I knew about the tryouts, since players must be Alaskans. I then realized the correct answer to his question was 'Anchorage.' I was from Anchorage. However, I still didn't know how I would ever accept something so different, and make Alaska my true home. Through becoming involved in activities such as the Games, and learning about the uniqueness of Alaska and its people, I figured it out. After many hours of riding the bus through the Interior, we stopped at a roadhouse at the Canadian border for dinner. Russian athletes from the Siberian city of Magadan, also heading toward Whitehorse, were there. When I approached one of the Russian boys, he asked, 'What's your name?' I said 'Erin' and poured out a stream of questions. He again asked, 'What's your name?' at which point I realized he spoke little English. The warm laughter of Alaskan and Magadan players started to make me feel like I belonged. Though the Winter Games have a few sports such as indoor soccer, Native games are the focus. For the next week, between my own games, I rode the buses from venue to venue watching events such as two-foot high-kick, Russian sledge jump, and knuckle hop, and cheering on my new friends. On the trip home, I watched the northern lights illuminate the night sky. I gained a strong sense of the bonds between people of the far north during that week in March. As I began to see the things that attracted the rest of my family to Alaska, I realized that this different life had always been right for me - I just had to get involved. Learning and getting involved had always worked for me, in school and in soccer, and now I could make it work in Alaska too. Eager to pursue my newfound interest in Alaska and its people, I developed activities to continue to connect to the real Alaska. After much research I convinced Alaska Fish & Game to create a volunteer position, which soon became an internship, for me in resource planning which allows me to seek the opinions of people in the remote villages to include in the State management plan. I also became involved in fish biology research, conducting a study on Alaska's salmon. An enthusiasm for immersing myself in new things became my path to finding happiness in Alaska. Though I lost my tan and my blonde hair turned dirt brown, moving to Alaska turned out to be an exciting change and taught me that I could successfully embrace new things through learning and involvement. Though I look forward to going Outside to college, when someone asks me where I'm from, I'll now reply 'Alaska' without hesitation.
Essay Category:
Essay Question:
Describe an interest or activity that has been particularly meaningful to you. (major essay, 500+ words)
In search of a way to relate my internship in the Department of Fish and Game to my school course work in the sciences, my supervisor at Fish and Game suggested that an important research opportunity existed at the Fort Richardson Fish Hatchery. Located in a remote corner of a large military base, this hatchery produces salmon fry, which are used to maintain a portion of Alaska's magnificent salmon runs. With the help of my school mentorship counselor, a formal mentorship through my school was set up to give me the opportunity to learn more about the real world applications of biology and chemistry. Until recently the Fort Richardson Fish Hatchery was supplied with waste heat produced by a nearby power plant. During frigid Alaska winters it is imperative to keep the fish raceways at around seven degrees Celsius - a virtual sauna by comparison. Unfortunately the power plant was recently closed and the hatchery shifted toward increased re-circulating water systems. Recirculating as much water as possible minimizes the amount of energy used - a very important cost savings. A most important question concerned the maximum amount of water that could be re-circulated, and thus re-used without an extensive sacrifice to water quality which would be detrimental to fish growth rates. The hatchery manager charged me with conducting a four-month study that we named the 'Flow Rate Effects on Water Quality and Growth of Coho Salmon.' As I wrote the initial study protocol, it quickly became clear that this was going to be a full on biology research project. Not only was I in charge of tracking the growth of over 900,000 Coho Salmon, but I had to regularly take water quality samples of pH, carbon dioxide, turbidity, dissolved oxygen, and ammonia nitrogen among other tests. Based upon the fish growth and the water chemistry of different raceways used in the experiment, I analyzed the results and determined the effects of decreasing water quality on growth rates and determined which recirculation schemes were most efficient. I wrote up a complete study paper including an abstract, materials and methods, analysis, conclusions, acknowledgements, references, appendix which the hatchery will use as documented evidence supporting future raceway and re-use designs. The results of this study will improve the efficiency of the hatchery, therefore saving many government supplied dollars. I would never have believed that my personal efforts could have an impact on such a large, important operation. Reading through the daily journal I kept during this research project I am reminded of how much Ive grown over the past year. Driving through three feet of snow to reach the fish and collect the data is an adventure I won't soon forget. Though the process was intensive and difficult, I now have a better understanding of real world applications of chemical process I once doubted I would ever be able use. This research project reinforced my passion for scientific research. I find enjoyment in researching things that will have an affect on others. I now take pride in knowing that I helped improve the efficiency of the Fort Richardson Fish Hatchery, which supplies fish to lakes and rivers across the state.
Essay Category:
Essay Question:
What was your most meaningful activity and why?
'Why do you run?' asked my perplexed wrestling coach (and dorm adviser) one night as we were discussing athletics. He saw, presumably, no reward in such a 'simple' sport that compelled runners to move their bodies as fast as possible from point A to point B using an 'unskilled' motion that required nothing but an unnatural tolerance of pain. In my head, !? punctuated each word that sprang from his lips. To assist my benighted mentor, I attempted to explain my view to him: cross-country running, if taken seriously, can engender immense personal changeas it has for me. On the most superficial physical level, running offers some fantastic benefits. First, running increases my VO2 Max, the maximum volume of oxygen consumed by the body each minute during exercise. My amplified metabolism allows me to feast in unrestrained 5000-calorie diets, my stomach metamorphosing into a nutritive black hole. Spectators of the opposite sex can gape at my chiseled, fat-free abdominal region and the unabashed pair of thighs that confidently peek out from beneath satisfactorily short, short running-shorts. One would think that these outwardly apparent boons would be enough to convince anyone to run. It is not, however, the above perks that prompt me to run. Running transcends the body and what happens to it. As Paavo Nurmi, the 'Flying Finn'a runner who won 9 gold medals in three consecutive Olympicsonce said, 'Mind is everything; muscles mere pieces of rubber. All that I am, I am because of my mind.' I run to explore my mind. Running is the perfect channel to self-awareness, a form of introspection. Each interval workout or track repeat forces me to examine the, sometimes harsh, realities of my mental and physical limitations. I constantly live in pursuit of the limits of human ability, chasing a level of human performance that I can never attain, just like the mathematicians pursuit of infinity: always approaching, but never reaching. During a racewhen my oxygen-deprived muscles collectively cry out in desperation, 'STOP!' with my mind also wailing 'STOP!' and an opponent begins his final, also desperate, kick with 300 meters to go, pressing as though he expects to beat me, and me believing for a split second that I have reached my potential limitI skirt on the brink of relinquishing my effort: 'Maybe my muscles are weaker than rubber. Maybe my opponent can out-kick me. Maybe Im just burnt.' No. I persevere. It takes real guts now, real discipline. My mind commands me to locate the hidden reservoir of energy that I never even knew existed, or perhaps never did exist, unleashing fresh optimism: Im on pace to run 12 seconds faster than my previous personal best, I crossed the 1-mile mark in 4:58 (my first sub-5-minute-mile) and Ive got roomIve always got roomfor a faster, meaner, more desperate kick. Body follows mind, and I cross the finish line before my opponent. After this comprehensive explanation, my coach politely nodded. Although he was slightly taken aback by my fervent defense of running, I appeased him with an extra remark. I assured him that he could expect the same attitude from me in a few months, when I would be grappling a frustrated opponent atop a wrestling mat.
Essay Category:
Essay Question:
Personal statement: Describe a character in fiction, an historical figure, or a creative work that has had an influence on you, and explain that influence.
Grinning with satisfaction, I stood in awe, for in front of my eyes hung Lorenzo Lotto's 'Allegory of Vice and Virtue,' exuding brilliant hues of artistic glory. This past summer, when I entered the National Gallery of Art in Washington, D.C., during our family vacation, I had not realized that the visit would become the culmination of my personal journey to consummate an academic quest. That quest originated in October of my junior year, when my enthusiasm for the Humanities class was waning just like the falling leaves outside my window. The haziness of Humanities has always bothered me. I shuddered at the mention of studying about the heretics of the Middle Ages, or writing poetry on a metamorphosing caterpillar. Much too much of Humanities employed the interpretive right side of the brain. I preferred the logical, factual, no-gray-area fields of math or science. I quickly grasped the concept of a radian, just as I effortlessly memorized the chemical formula for sulfuric acid. I felt so much more comfortable treading in subjects that solely employed the unambiguous left side of the brain. But this one autumn day, one project changed everything. We were to explore the life of an Italian Renaissance artist and write a eulogy and an analysis of a painting, piecing together the political, historical and mythological elements of the work. Over many waking hours, either cramped into a back study-pod of the library or sprawled across my bed, I took my desire to succeed in Humanities to another level - something that had never happened before. The copy of the Lotto painting that I printed out followed me wherever I went. What I loved so much about this project was the realization that my interpretation could be completely different from the 'accepted' analysis of an artwork and yet be acceptable. I had fully expected, however, that upon completion of this assignment, all that I had learned while poring over Lotto's work would vanish into my minds abyss. Quite to the contrary, after the Lotto experience, I found myself laboring many hours not only dissecting required Humanities readings, trying to discover subtle nuances and uncover hidden meanings, but also voraciously absorbing many articles from The New York Times, Foreign Affairs and The Economist, particularly opinion and editorial pieces. By the end of the year, I was pleasantly surprised at how much I had transformed - instead of thinking in rigid predictable patterns, my mind freely drifted from idea to idea. When I was suddenly confronted with the very painting that had occupied my mind for weeks (I even hung up the color-print of the painting in my dorm-room), I couldnt suppress my excitement. I now knew that I had to pay homage to the wellspring of my inspiration. I asked my mom to take a picture of me side-by-side with the painting, to capture the moment for posterity. Then, I took a seat and, like nine months before, reverently gazed at the masterpiece as one last salute to the master before exiting the Gallery with a deep sense of gratitude. Now I was whole.
Essay Category:
Essay Question:
"Tell us about an experience that tells us about you"
I boarded the train at 9:17 and sat down. I opened Camus. The Stranger.
'Light reading for the summer?' said the man seated on my right. I looked at
him. 'Yeah'. - Digging into my bag, I pulled out a garishly green, laminated
copy of World's Best Coin Tricks. Grinning, we talked. He works for the State
Department. I was interning at the NIH and get off at the end of the red line.
He works setting up education exchange programs and I did neuroimaging on sleep
and language patient. His major was national defense at the War College, and I
asked what he read. 'Modern writers and the classics, like Thucydides, and a
Prussian' he trailed off. 'Clausewitz? On War?' I offered. 'Yeah!' he said.
'I bet nobody else in this whole train has read On War.' What else have you
read? 'I've read Sun-Tzu and Herodotus, but haven't read Thucydides.' 'You'll
like it,' and he asked me what I wanted to do for college.
'I'm really not sure now. There are a few things.' 'Go on?' 'I either
want to
go into neurology, business or join the CIA. I'm undecided, but until then I
want to major in economics or biochemistry. I also want to join the Peace
Corps.' 'That's great!' he said, 'I was in the Peace Corps 20 years back.'
'Really? That's awesome! Where did you serve?' 'Afghanistan, in Kabul believe
it or not.' 'Do you speak Farsi?' I asked, remembering reading a snide letter
to the editor of the Washington Post deriding yet another professor's plan for
peace in Afghanistan of teaching US soldiers Arabic by pointing out that people
in Afghanistan don't speak Arabic. 'I did, but I'm out of practice now.'
Thinking of languages, I added, 'Would you believe that I don't speak my mother
tongue?' He looked at me appraisingly. 'Yeah, sure. Maybe your parents wanted
you to assimilate?' 'Close,' I replied, 'My dad speaks his regional dialect,
while my mom's from elsewhere and speaks her own dialect. They didn't share a
common, natural language and met in the US speaking English.' 'That's really
interesting,' he replied. I asked, 'So what did you do in Afghanistan?' 'Oh, I
taught English to schoolchildren in Kabul, and since there wasn't much to do, I
kept a dream log.' 'Really? That's unbelievable!' I burrowed into my bag,
scooping from below my laptop a small, cloud gray book called A Little Course in
Dreams. 'I promise you, that's the last book I have in my bag, so no more
surprises.'
'Wow,' he replied, 'I haven't seen this book in a long time.' Pulling out a
fountain pen and writing the title and author on a corner of newspaper, it was
his stop coming up. So he asked for my phone number to continue the
conversation
later: I gave him mine, took his, shook hands. Tucking the slip into page 73,
the Horizontal Vanish, of World's Best Coin Tricks, I leaned right and went to
sleep, bound for Medical Center.
Essay Category:
Essay Question:
Discuss an issue of local, national, or international concern. Why is this issue important to you? How would you resolve it? What impact would its resolution have on others?
Speaking the Language of Pride and Prejudice Today, languages fascinate me. However, in middle school, it took my mother four hours of debate before I finally agreed to take Spanish. 'But, mom, I already know another language! Our family is Chinese!' I whined. 'Take the class. One day, you'll understand,' she said sagely. And so I grudgingly went to my first Spanish class. However, once I had mastered the basics of the language, I spent hours amusing myself with rrrrolling my r's. I've been told that some things just can't be translated without losing meaning.The subtle nuances of Spanish grammar intrigued me. For example, to express whether or not one thinks it will rain, two verb forms can be used. With a single syllabic change, the speaker can convey her certainty or doubt. From having to cluck like a chicken the first day (while desperately racking my brain for a word, any Spanish word), to gradually conversing spontaneously, I found myself making friends with many non-English-speaking Hispanics. I realized that had it not been for Spanish, the door to communicating with millions of people in theworld would be bolted shut. As a Chinese-American, I feel the frustration of those who struggle with a new language and culture when in a new country. When my family first came to America, people in our neighborhood would periodically puncture our car tires simply because its owners were Chinese. Too confused to turn to the police, there was nothing we could really do. Fortunately, we moved away from that neighborhood, and I grew up speaking English without any accent. I was rarely teased in school. I thought things had changed. America appears to have integrated and accepted different ethnicities. But the day after 9-11, a Muslim student in my school was the target of a fight. I couldn't help thinking that he had done nothing wrong to deserve such treatment, just as my family had done nothing wrong to have our car vandalized. How could the aggressor think for a moment that attacking a human who merely shared the same religion with the terrorists would resolve anything? It would only escalate local tensions. Most Muslims were just as grief-stricken and terrified and shocked at the tragedy as all Americans were. I was revolted that such an attack had occurred. Fear, anger, and resentment weren't adequate justification for victimizing an innocent human being. I found myself frustrated by those who shunned others based on superficial differences instead of working to foster a relationship. Patriotism and pride in identifying one's background is good, but when manifested hatefully, it degenerates into disrespect for humanity. Those who have seen the consequences of war seem to agree. Robin Wright, the chief diplomatic correspondent for The Los Angeles Times, came to my high school to give a speech. She had seen her friends blown to pieces in Iraq and advocated something with which I completely agree - everyone in the world should learn at least two foreign languages. In this era of globalization, communication is of paramount importance so that misunderstandings can be quelled before escalating into needless violence. Last week, my mother came home from work smiling. She works for a German company. That day there was a party. Trying to be social, she had joined a light conversation about the German language and everyone had fun mispronouncing 'Ich spreche kein Deutsch (I don't speak German)'. All of a sudden, a whisper brushed past her ear. 'Why don't you learn better English before starting German?' She whipped around. The secretary smirked at her. I felt shocked, immensely hurt for my mother, and astonished that she was smiling. When I asked how she could possibly look happy, she replied, 'I speak English and can talk to her when I want to. She doesn't speak Chinese and never wants to learn. Shouldn't I be glad to have a greater power of communication and an open mind towards the world?' Prejudice is a bruise that cannot be easily comforted away. A lot has changed since our family arrived in America a decade ago, but a lot has remained the same. The pain of racial discrimination pierces my life, but I am grateful. In a way, it enlightens me. It helps me empathize with others who have been hurt by discrimination. In a larger sense, it helps me understand our diverse world. For this last reason, I have continued my studies in Spanish at a local universityafter having taken AP my junior year, even if it is just for an inner chuckle such as, 'Hah hah, Graciela and I are planning your secret wedding shower rightin front of you, but you don't realize it' at the University of Michigan Physiology Lab where I worked this summer. Languages are tools that overcome cultural misconceptions to peacefully unite different peoples. My mother was right after all about taking Spanish.
Essay Category:
Essay Question:
This essay was a response to the open-ended question, "Do anything you want to a sheet of paper to persuade us to admit you."
Dear Princeton Admissions Committee, When I had to find a number for reading in my ranked list of activities, I had trouble placing it. I've always read, and I think that reading is something too important to me for one line. So, here is a list of the books I've read over the last year that I can remember. I hope that this can give you a sense of where I've been intellectually wandering outside of school. Sincerely, Now reading: Ecrits, Jacques Lacan One Hundred Years of Solitude, Gabriel Garcia Marquez American Constitutional Law, Laurence Tribe The Washington Post, New York Times, and Wall Street Journal editorial pages daily. Fiction The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy, Douglas Adams The Orestia, Fschylus The Hero with a Thousand Faces, Joseph Campbell The Plague, Albert Camus The Stranger, Albert Camus Artemis Fowl (Trilogy), Eion Colfer The Chocolate War, Robert Cormier Robinson Crusoe, Daniel Defoe Crime and Punishment, Fyodor Dostoyevsky The Great Cases of Sherlock Holmes, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle The Count of Monte Cristo, Alexandre Dumas The Invisible Man, Ralph Ellison The Golden Bough (condensed volumes), Sir George Frazer The Tin Drum, Gunter Grass The Saskiad, Brian Hall Folk and Fairy Tales, Martin Hallett Mythology, Edith Hamilton Magister Ludi, Herman Hesse Ulysses, James Joyce Collected Stories, Franz Kafka Captain Courageous, Rudyard Kipling The Man Who Would be King and Other Short Stories, Rudyard Kipling Eden, Stanislaw Lem Chronicles of the Vikings, R.I. Page The Morphology of the Folk Tale, Vladimir Propp The Order of the Phoenix, J.K. Rowling Holes, Loius Sachar A Series of Unfortunate Events Series (11 volumes), Lemony Snicket The Bronze Bow, Elizabeth Speare Huck Finn, Mark Twain A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius, Dave Eggers Non-fiction How to Build your Home in the Woods, Bradford Angier Arabic in Three Months, Mohammed Asfour The Complete Book of Abs, Kurt Brungardt The Complete Book of Shoulders and Arms, Kurt Brungardt Libertarianism, A Primer, David Boaz De Bello Gallico (The Gallic War), Julius Caesar Alchemy : an illustrated A to Z, Fernando, Diana. Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass, An American Slave, Frederick Douglass Caesar and Christ, Will Durant The Lexus and the Olive Tree, Thomas L. Friedman The Interpretation of Dreams, Sigmund Freud The Book of Survival, Anthony Greenback Godel, Escher, Bach, Douglas Hofstadter Modern Times, Paul Johnson Dreams, Carl Jung Man and His Symbols, Carl Jung Psyche and Symbol, Carl Jung Worlds Best Coin Tricks, Bob Longe The Discourses, Niccolo Machiavelli History of Florence and of the Affairs of Italy, Niccolo Machiavelli Talk of the Devil: Encounters with Seven Dictators, Riccardo Orizio Winning Table Tennis, Dan Seemiller The March of Folly: From Troy to Vietnam, Barbara Tuchman Ethics: Theory and Practice, Manuel Velasquez The Middle East: Opposing Viewpoints, Mary Williams Coaching Olympic Style Boxing, USA Boxing The Evelyn Wood Seven-Day Speed Reading and Learning Program, Evelyn Wood Poetry The Waste Land and Other Poems, T.S Eliot Never, Jorie Graham Complete Works, Edgar Allan Poe Collected Poems, George Seferis Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, J. R. R Tolkein The Aeneid, Vergil
Essay Category:
Essay Question:
Discuss some issue of personal, local, national, or international concern and its importance to you.
Today's world is characterized by movement. My research for MUN has reinforced this point: migration may prove to be the foremost geopolitical issue of the 21st century. Nonetheless, the story of a single life can reveal more than a hundred pages of facts and figures, because statistics mean little without the context to appreciate what they mean to actual people. When I was ten, my family migrated to Istanbul from Urfa, a city in Turkey's southeast and that is known as 'the city of prophets.' We moved so I could continue primary school in Istanbul and, hopefully, attend Robert College. It's a classic story: my parents wanted the best for me, so that I'd enjoy every possible path to success. A part of this tale that is often forgotten, however, is the child's awareness that his parents left their beloved home for his sake. Whenever I feel like I'm about to drown under my coursework and responsibilities, I remember their sacrifice and my motivation returns. In Turkish, we don't say that someone is 'from a place.' If someone is from Urfa, we call him 'Urfa'li,' meaning 'He has Urfa inside him.' My father is truly 'Urfa'li.' I see it in everything from how he greets friends to how he drinks his tea. Our family, too, has brought much from Urfa to Istanbul; from our food to our music, sometimes I think Istanbul extends only to, but not through, our front door. Turks born in Istanbul sometimes think of Urfa as 'exotic,' home to ancient mysteries and people with 'strange' lives. Having spent much time with people from other countries, I've learned that people from one part of a country viewing people from other parts of their country as backwards is a universal phenomenon. Nonetheless, this way of thinking troubles me, both rationally and emotionally. My intellect knows that such opinions are based on unexamined prejudices, not experience, and my heart feels that anyone who took the time to understand the people and culture of Urfa would only cherish it. Yet when I turned twenty, I began to feel my own attachment to Urfa disintegrate. I realized that half my life had been lived in Istanbul. I am profoundly grateful for this: only here could I have enjoyed the opportunities and resources that have shaped so much of me. At the same time, however, I became fearful that, in letting so much of Istanbul 'inside me,' I was losing the 'Urfa inside me.' After all, since age ten, my hectic schedule has allowed me to return only twice. Although my future lies in engineering and applied science, pursuits unlikely to lead me back to Urfa, I often dream of returning, of getting involved with its people. I dream of contributing, perhaps helping students prepare for university exams, or tutoring them in math, science and English. At the same time, I'd love to get back into the unique rhythm of another way of life, taking pleasure in walking its streets, long evenings chatting in Urfa's teahouses, sleeping on the roof on summer nights, a local tradition, and just feeling again what it means to be 'Urfa'li.' Perhaps I'd learn to play the saz, the instrument of the city's folk music, which I would play as friends sing along, or take up raising pigeons, another of Urfa's favorite pastimes. But as I head off to America today to chase other dreams, I must accept that I may never return to Urfa for an extended stay. Still, I take some comfort in knowing that wherever I go, I will, in a very special way, bring part of it with me.
Essay Category:
Essay Question:
Optional Essay
Additional Explanation Concerning the Turkish Math Club 'Along with a hundred other mathematically talented students from around the world, you are invited to join us this summer for five intense weeks of learning, discovery... and fun!' After printing an application to the Canada/USA Mathcamp; spending an entire week thinking about almost nothing besides the problems on the applications 'qualifying quiz' at breakfast, lunch and dinner, in-between classes and, yes, even during classes; and spending several more wrenching weeks in anticipation of a polite letter of rejection, I had been accepted the Mathematics Foundation of America's Mathcamp. Not long thereafter, I was on my way to America and one of the most eye-opening intellectual experiences of my life. Being in the presence of such incredible minds was humbling, but also inspirational. Attending lectures by John Conway of Princeton, for instance, one of the worlds most creative thinkers, I peeked into a realm I had never known to even exist before. Exposure to concepts like knot theory, the geometry of high dimensions, group theory and transfinite mathematics lent credence to a notion that I had always suspected was true, but could never really back up concretely: there are few ideas, experiences or eventualities perhaps none at all in our world that cannot in some way be illuminated through math. By extension, I came to believe that even those problems to which math now seems utterly inapplicable are simply waiting for innovators sufficiently talented and determined to demystify them mathematically. Not surprisingly, when I returned to Turkey, I experienced a let-down. No longer spending twenty-four hours a day in an environment that guided me toward methods to unravel the most obscure problems, I felt a gaping hole emerge in my intellectual life. Moreover, I felt another, equally important, hole I needed to fill: my sense of community. Reflecting, I thought of a single solution to both problems. Because I believe strongly that Turks possess great, often untapped, talents in many areas, not least of which the sciences and mathematics, I lamented the fact that no programs like Mathcamp had been established in Turkey. I decided to do something about it. Having conceived of creating some sort of supportive infrastructure for the interaction of Turkish students and professors who love math, I still had to acknowledge that I couldnt tackle the project alone. Thus, I started taking the idea to professors at various universities and 'dershanes,' schools that prepare students for Turkeys various university entrance exams. Finally, I met a like-minded math lover who saw the value of my idea Simsek Daskafa. We decided that, while creating a Turkish Mathcamp was our ultimate goal, we first had to establish and build a community, which we accomplished through our website: www.matematikklubu.org, launched in November 2002, where one may find a variety of theorems, articles and unusually challenging math problems (including the 'Question of the Week,' which I edit) as well as participate in an annual math contest. To date, the site has attracted almost 9,000 registered users and drawn almost one million 'clicks.' We also created an organization, directed by seven-member board, of which I am the only high school student member. Given that the original idea for the Math Club was my own, it was hard to cede almost all control of it to others, even if they were far more qualified than I. Nonetheless, recognizing the importance of math education for Turkeys future, I saw that the concept of the Math Clubs mission was far more important than my personal stake in its leadership. Last year, we expanded our operations, organizing a math contest, hosted by Istanbul Technical University, for high schools students. Plans for this years contest, which will be bigger and better than last years to be sure, are already well under way. And as for our ultimate goal of a Turkish Mathcamp, it looks as though it may just happen in the summer of 2005, provided we can get the final authorization from Bahcesehir University for hosting the event and a commitment from several of Turkeys top math minds to run the classes and lectures. The Executive Board of the Math Club is continuing to work toward this dream at present, and even if we do not succeed this summer, my colleagues and I are committed to making it happen sometime in the near future. And who knows? Maybe after next year Ill even be able to convince Professor Conway to attend&
Essay Category:
Essay Question:
Describe a character in fictions, an historical figure, or a creative work (as in art, music, science, etc.) that has had an influence on you, and explain that influence.
Sitting on a grassy hillside, Scipio Africanus stared down at the burning remnant of Carthage. After three long years of fighting, Rome's mortal enemy was defeated. Scipio ordered his troops to salt the soil and cross the city's foundation by plowshare so that it would never rise again. Still, tears rolled from his eyes and the words of Hector slipped from his lips: 'The day shall come in which our sacred Troy and Priam, and the people over whom Spear-bearing Priam rules, shall perish all.' Asked by a companion what he meant, Scipio replied, 'This is a glorious moment, Polybius; and yet I am seized with fear and foreboding that some day the same fate will befall my own country.' Many people who hear this story interpret it as a fable of humility, but pure humility isn't what forged the story into accounts of the battle, or impacted Romans so strongly that they whispered the tale as a bedtime story for their children. What speaks so powerfully to us is Scipio's gravitas, his sense of the importance of the matter at hand. Scipio Africanus didn't lament looted museums, burned orphanages, or even the fate of the city. In the dying embers of Carthage, he saw Rome. As heirs of the Roman Empire, our culture is steeped in classical thought and we surround our judges and lawmakers in Corinthian columns, but gravitas is acutely missing. And there is no better example of this than our dealings with the heirs to the Carthaginian Empire, Libya. Libya seeks to purchase an end to its pariah status by paying blood money for its Lockerbie bombing. Four million dollars dribble when the UN lifts sanctions of Libya, then four more drip should the US lifts its own sanctions. The final two million trickle if the State Department removes Libya from its terror list. The Wall Street Journal editorial page, probably one of the last confessed bastions of Roman virtue, acridly expressed its sentiments by asking, 'Would the US accept ten billion dollars from Osama Bin Laden and call it even?' But the story goes deeper. As a young nation, we lack the gravitas that Rome had. We possess greater power than Augustus ever wielded, but we lack earnestness in what we do. In ancient times, tribute was accepted in exchange for yielding your prerogative to wage war. Now, we place sanctions on North Korea, or Cuba, or Libya as their actions compel us, and promise to lift them should conditions ever change. Through international law, we've given up the catharsis of forgiveness. Rather than forgiving and forgetting, we simply forget. Scipio Africanus stared into the dying embers of Carthage and discerned the fall of Rome. We stare into the embers of Libya and see nothing.
Essay Category:
Essay Question:
Jot a note to your future college roommate relating a personal experience that reveals something about you.
In my junior year of high school, I was thinking of what I could over summer. I had already applied to do research, but it would be months before I would hear from them. In the meantime, I was making other plans. I desperately wanted to travel, but I didn't know how I'd be able to. I found a book on travel in the library, and buried inside of it was a footnote on traveling by courier flights. By agreeing to take the manifest of a cargo with you on a flight, courier companies are able to speed their packages through custom faster than if the cargo had been sent through as a package. Thus, for sensitive deliveries that require quick custom clearance, it's necessary to buy an airline ticket. Rather than hire couriers to take packages across the world on short notice, the companies let citizens accompany packages, and offer the ticket as a steeply discounted incentive. I realized it was possible to get a round trip flight from New York to London for $50 dollars. Other flights were free if you were adventurous enough to leave with hours of notice. I had an entire travel plan laid out, from keeping my bag permanently packet to staying with family friends in various cities across the world. At the last moment in April, I heard from the research institute, putting a premature end to my plan. Traveling is still an option for my next summer, though.
Essay Category:
Essay Question:
Discuss an intellectual interest of yours.
Whether politics is an endlessly various soap opera or the deepest expression of our culture striving for itself, I'm totally captivated. I spend at least an hour a day over the newspaper, and read, from left to right, The New York Times, The Washington Post, and The Wall Street Journal editorial pages. What captivates me is that politics is the ratio of all disciplines. Biology collides with business in Medicare, but the conflict centers on methodology, not fact. Making two opposed op-eds talk to each other is like squeezing water out of rocks. The dull language of policy is truer than any other because the allocation of resources seeks to span the breadth experience. Ultimately, the law of conservation is the law of the universe, and policy can't deny all of it at once, nor any of it forever. My brother and I both read multiple newspapers, and for years we've played tennis and talked through our opinions of the opinions. We both love to rattle off order of magnitude calculations. An opinion in the Post on falling Chinese aquifers brought us to calculate that the world's energy supply, including metabolic, is about 50/50 biomass and oil. Almost a gigaton of wheat is harvested annually, nearly a quarter of all agricultural yields, and a gigaton of oil is burned, with four times starch's energy density. Wherever I go to college, I know I'll miss these conversations.
Essay Category:
Essay Question:
Of the activities, interests and experiences listed previously, which is the most meaningful to you, and why?
I'm deeply interested in biology, so the activity most meaningful to me has been my research. I began last June when I was chosen as a summer biomedical research intern. This senior year, I've continued my work through my school's selective mentorship program. It allows chosen seniors to leave school three days a week at 10:00 AM for area labs. I take the metro to the DC where I continue my work as a volunteer and leave for home at the end of the work day. My foray into research began when my chemistry teacher, suggested I apply to the summer internship program. I applied, and while waiting for a response, I became interested in the work of a researcher who was exploring the intersection of neuroimaging methods and language. Luckily, since I had studied neurobiology and had read some Noam Chomsky, both scientific and otherwise, he could find a place for me. Our project involves comparing differences in regional brain metabolism with EEG brain wave patterns. Our data suggest that as a person falls deeper into sleep, brain activity decreases less in certain area of the brain than commonly supposed. My role has ranged from analytical work to dividing the brain into over 200 different anatomical regions for region to region comparison, and the last half-year has been extremely exciting for me.
Essay Category:
Essay Question:
Write about anything important to you that will give us a sense of who you are in 500 words.
'Tell me the causes, O Muse, why the Queen of heaven drove him, a man marked by such devotion, to undergo so many perils, to endure so many toils. Can the minds of heaven bear such malice?' (Aeneid, 1.15) Water laps at my heels, and I realize with a start that high tide is washing in. On salt caked soles, I walk back from the foot of the lighthouse, thinking over a classical question the Aeneid's opening raises: do the gods inflict suffering from cruelty or apathy? The year was 1911. My grandfather coiled his hundred-year lease into a shallow pocket of his thick dungarees. The promised lush acres rolled down to the sandy shores of the bay on the West rim of the island. Age twenty, he rooted his sugar-cane plantation under the bright-eyed lighthouse. Planting by the bay, he prepared his crop for the harvest of the fall. Growing sugar cane is exacting work. At harvest time, the towering Cane calls you to the field, barbed and beckoning by serrated leaves. The field is given to flame, cleansing it of dry leaves and releasing caramelized incense as it burns. The stalks are hacked down by machete and bundled alongside the plantation tracks. Later, agents would appear at the junction to receive the burnt offerings. My grandfather fathered many children before my father was born. But between the first and the last, times changed. Our family plantation was successful, but the tide of globalization eroded our prosperity. Although our cane was less expensive than Floridian cane, farm subsidies to Florida cane growers amounted to $618 an acre, and Congress severely restricted sugar importation into the United States. As a result, Americans pay four times the international market price for sugar, while island growers are denied the right to compete. Plantations folded, and the honorable and ennobling work gave way to the pursuit of tourist dollars. My grandfather felt that tide lap at his heels as the agents granted less and less for cane. Soon, they stopped coming at all, and our plantation came to an end. Abel killed Cane and Globalization struck us from tillers into wanderers, scattering us East of Eden. We prospered in the United States, becoming doctors, teachers, and businessmen, but ultimately, we're still wandering. Walking on salt-caked feet across the shoals that separate the lighthouse from the plantation, I gaze over the worn fields. The plantation lies fallow and its fields are covered in low shrubs, tall grass, and dead leaves. On a corner of the property, our old tractor rests in a furrow, grizzled by tawny rust. The air is thin and cool, without a hint of the caramel of burning cane carried on ocean breeze. In the distance, a yacht slices across the bay under the bright-eyed lighthouse's gaze: Carthaginian ruins blurring into Roman foundations. Now, I realize that the classical question of whether we've suffered from apathy or malice doesn't matter. Now, it's only my academic point.
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:
Explain the importance of one of your extracurricular activities or interests (Common application)
My Growth in Public Speaking The ability to speak publicly is a skill highly valued in a society in which, according to surveys, the greatest phobia is that of speaking in front of an audience. I had little else in mind when I signed up for the elective the summer before my freshman year. Knowing that I was quiet and shy, I hopefully anticipated that the rigor of public speaking would teach me to be more outspoken and forceful. Yet through the last three formative years, I developed so much more than just a bigger voice. I came into the class expecting to be taught simply how to speak in public, but was soon immersed in the science of arguing, something I had always done with my little brother, but not quite with the same precision and organization that was now expected. Suddenly, I had to formulate arguments for not one, but both sides of a debate, presenting my points clearly and attacking weak points in others. Analyzing data in great depth and detail, returning a cleverly thought-out response to cross-examination, and driving home a killer closing argument: these are the aspects of public speaking that I find especially exciting, and even exhilarating. Others on my team feel the same way, and our commitment and intensity as a group defines public speaking as a team sport on a level with any other. Whether individually or all together, we feel the same triumphs and disappointments. The bond that we share is intellectual, social, and one of mutual inspiration.My friends say that those of us in public speaking belong to a cult: we have our own secret language with the mystifying names of the events, we spend half of our Saturdays together at tournaments, and sometimes we seem to talk about little else. Yet the influence of public speaking has permeated many other aspects of my life. In lacrosse, it sharpened my competitive nature and leadership skills; I became a captain, then moved up to varsity. My experience as a volunteer at the environmental law firm Earthjustice led me to write an Advocacy speech on the devastating effects of mountaintop removal. Another event, Extemporaneous, requires extensive knowledge of current events, and that has boosted my interest in history and politics. Realizing for the first time that knowledge of current events is truly empowering, and desiring strongly to affect these events in a practical way, I committed myself to work for the John Kerry campaign. Now in my fourth year of participation, as president of the public speaking team, I have a much clearer vision of my own future. History and politics will certainly play a role. I look forward to substantial involvement in the public life of the university I attend, as well as the greater society into which I will graduate. Although the past three years have rarely been easy, they have transformed me from a quiet, self-absorbed freshman to an involved, inquisitive senior who is confident in her opinions and is ready to engage life after high school in a meaningful way.
Essay Category:
Essay Question:
Explain the importance of one your extracurricular activities or interests
Music Music has played a profound role in shaping my imagination and perception of the world. Each musical experience, whether exalted or commonplace, left its initial mark, but would then somehow extend its effects to disparate and unforeseen areas of my life. I was brought up from an early age to enjoy classical music. My mother describes me as a unique three-year-old who could sit still and listen to a full program by the San Francisco Symphony (though I retain memories of trying to smuggle candy into the hall in my socks). I began piano lessons in first grade, and for the next ten years, a daily regimen of rigorous practice familiarized me with a range of works from Baroque to Contemporary, from Bach to Satie. Although piano practice brings up images of protesting children pounding their scales,or endless renditions of The Happy Farmer, as my skill level grew, my focus shifted from fundamentals to artistic expression. After a decade of lessons, recitals, and competitions, I felt free to choose music based on its artistic value or emotional impact on me, rather than external criteria for performances. But music for me is by no means an individual activity. Some of my most vivid memories in music involve family and a wide network of friends in far-flung locations. Meeting the Prazak String Quartet in a Napa cave concert one year was directly connected to attending a performance of Beethoven String Quartets in Prague several years later. Following a discussion and performance of the Diabelli Variations by Professor William Kinderman, I found myself in the unlikely position of playing a modest sonatina for the Chopin expert Garrick Ohlsson. Love of music led me to jazz clubs in Toronto and Montreal, Carlo Bergonzis farewell performance at the Vienna Opera House, and even an all-night playing of recordings by the conductor Celibidache in a house in the south of France. Although the actual musical experiences bring out an array of emotions in me as I listen, sharing such experiences magnifies the intensity of those emotions. I love the excitement, or at times, serenity that spreads over concert halls in response to great classical performances; I love the energy and euphoria of a crowd singing along with my favorite band, Guster. Though the spectrum of music which I enjoy is very wide, there is a universal way in which music conveys its message through both intellect and emotion. On perhaps the most personal level, my cousins and I have recently formed a basement band, in which I play the keyboard and compose lyrics. We are definitely a work in progress, but so far our music sounds fairly good. The most gratifying aspect of this endeavor is that it creates yet another dimension to our family, adding another level to our relationship. No other example could better illustrate the importance of music to me. From the discipline of study to the fascination of travel, from friendship to family ties, music has certainly made a powerful impact on my life experience.
Essay Category:
Essay Question:
Tell us something about yourself.
The impact that dance has had on my life is nearly unexplainable. Dance has played a major role in my life since I was three years old. Every aspect of dance and every type of dance fascinates me. Although I have on two occasions participated in dance competitions, performance is what I love most. Therefore, most of my dance experience has been dedicated to stage performance. When I dance in a competition, the main goal is for me to be judged and evaluated. When I dance in performance, the goal is to produce art and move the audience; this is the part of dance I live for. For five years I was a member of the Tennessee Children's Dance Ensemble, a professional dance company composed entirely of children between the ages of ten and sixteen. The Ensemble's goal, and thus the goal of each dancer, has always been the pursuit of excellence in every aspect of dance and life. Participating in company classes, rehearsals, and performances with dancers of exceptional talent and dedication was inspiring and challenging and helped me to grow as a dancer. The numerous opportunities I had to perform gave me the opportunity, at a young age, to learn the art of performing on stage, the importance of projection and stage presence, and the ability to perform confidently in front of an audience. My dance training was enriched by my opportunity to study with guest choreographers, each with his or her own unique style. As a member of the Ensemble, I participated in the choreography of company performance pieces and in other technical components of the performance process. I continue to take weekly classes and participate in master classes and dance workshops offered by guest teachers from other parts of the country. I have been exposed to many types of dance, from ballroom to hip-hop. Throughout my years of study at Dancers Studio, I spent several hours each week as a 'demonstrator' in the classes for younger dancers; as a member of the Ensemble I helped teach master classes for school children from South Carolina and Indonesia. Performing for diverse types of audiences is exciting and challenging because each program is designed for the specific audience to which it is presented; dancing for an auditorium filled with elementary school children is different from dancing for the Vice President of the United States. I have had numerous opportunities to reach out and inspire people of all ages from all walks of life through the creative art of dance.
Essay Category:
Essay Question:
Tell us something about yourself.
I was sitting in courtroom A at Knox County Juvenile Court when the door behind the referee judge opened. A teenage guy wearing a solid orange uniform and shackles around his ankles walked into the room and took his seat. I have to say that I have never felt the kind of fear I experienced at that moment. I was not frightened by his appearance, nor was I frightened when he looked up and stared directly into my eyes for several seconds. I was frightened for him. His life had obviously led him places he never planned to go, and I feared that the blame did not totally reside with him. I was present that day as I have been one day each week during my junior and senior years as a part of the Knox County Juvenile Court mentor program. I have the opportunity to observe the juvenile court processes, speak with various court officials, and observe what is happening to teenagers who have made bad choices and are often younger than I. What I have seen and what I have learned during this program inspired me to return to juvenile court during school holidays and throughout the summer to observe and to learn more about juvenile justice. I have observed both divisions of juvenile court. The first division handles crimes in which the minor himself is in some sort of trouble, and the other, referred to as Dependency and Neglect, handles crimes in which adults are at fault. While I find the Dependency and Neglect cases to be intriguing and heart-wrenching, my interest is mainly in dealing directly with the juvenile delinquents because I realize that the number of juvenile criminals who become repeat offenders is a major concern for our nation. Today's juvenile delinquents will become tomorrow's criminals unless changes are made to our juvenile rehabilitation system. Many juveniles are products of their environments and need either to be removed from the environment or for the environment to be changed. In many instances, communication or lack thereof is a major contributing factor in the delinquency of minors. In order to prevent this, these young offenders need to be taught to effectively communicate their ideas and emotions. This will only happen if someone they trust truly listens to them. Understanding how the offenders view themselves is part of the solution. For many, their negative behavior may be a crying out for attention. For others, drugs and alcohol may be the only things in their lives that make them feel good. A positive role model could help them learn to make better choices and let them know that there are people who care about them. There are so many issues, and there is no simple formula for resolving them. The costs to society for resolving these issues can be high; however, rehabilitation will likely prove to be more cost effective than repeated incarcerations. I do not have all of the answers, but I do have an idea. I believe that incorporating a peer advocacy program into the rehabilitation system could have a positive impact. In this program, when a delinquent is assigned to a probation officer, he will also be assigned to a small peer group composed of one or more non-delinquent teenagers, preferably from neighborhoods and socio economic backgrounds similar to those of the offender. The purpose of this group would be to open channels of communication between the offenders and one or more of their peer advocates in a non-threatening environment where the offenders can learn that positive behavior nets positive results and negative behavior nets negative results. Being a teenager myself, I understand that while we often have difficulty relating to adults, we are able to relate to others our age. Juvenile offenders need to be taught how to learn and be placed in an environment where they can succeed. They need to understand that for the most part they have control over their own futures; their family, race, neighborhood, or social status do not have to dictate what happens to them. Giving a troubled youth his dreams back and ensuring that he receives an education are integral parts in making him a productive member of society. While the final decision to make positive changes within one=s life lies within each one of us, I believe that juvenile offenders can be taught and shown the advantages of living a moral life. If the young offenders can understand how to make positive choices and how these choices will benefit them, they may begin to understand what has led them astray and how they can cross over to a path which will lead to success. I want young people to be encouraged to make right decisions at crucial moments so that their dreams become reality. The issue of juvenile reform is complex, but it is also of paramount importance. Today's young people are the future of our country and the world, but they are also potentially the future of crime. Juvenile justice reform should be a high priority for the local, state, and national governments. Rehabilitation, rather than incarceration, should be the goal. The juvenile justice system can play an important role in determining whether young offenders will lead productive lives or spend the remainder of their lives behind bars.
Essay Category:
Essay Question:
Supplemental essay describing special interest or talent.
I have experienced a life rich in the performing arts through dance, theater, piano and harp. My first exposure to the arts was when I stood at the barre in Miss Irma's ballet class at three years old. My first professional performing experience was as a Party Child in the City Ballet's production of the Nutcracker when I was six years old. I performed in professional productions of the Nutcracker that year and three subsequent years. Thus, my love for performing on stage was born. Dance My love for dance became a passion. As a young girl and dancer at Dancer's Studio, I took every dance class I could. I even danced with the older dancers in the summer, spending my days at the studio rather than with my friends at the swimming pool. At the age of eleven, I auditioned for and was invited to join the Tennessee Children's Dance Ensemble, the only professional dance company in the United States composed of children from ten to sixteen years of age. The impact that dance has had on my life is nearly unexplainable. Every aspect of dance and every type of dance fascinates me. Although I have on two occasions participated in dance competitions, performance is what I love most. Therefore, most of my dance experience has been dedicated to stage performance. When I dance in a competition, the main goal is for me to be judged and evaluated. When I dance in performance, the goal is to produce art and move the audience; this is the part of dance I live for. For five years I was a member of the Tennessee Children's Dance Ensemble. The Ensemble's goal, and thus the goal of each dancer, has always been the pursuit of excellence in every aspect of dance and life. Participating in company classes, rehearsals, and performances with dancers of exceptional talent and dedication was inspiring and challenging and helped me to grow as a dancer. Through performing with the Ensemble, I have learned so much about dance, performing, people, and the world. I have also learned that dancing is the purest form of self-expression, and that as a dancer, my body can speak for me. I have discovered the thrill of knowing that I have enriched the life of someone in the audience, inspired a child to follow his dreams as I had followed mine, or evoked an emotion, letting someone else 'feel the magic.' The numerous opportunities I had to perform gave me the opportunity, at a young age, to learn the art of performing on stage, the importance of projection and stage presence, and the ability to perform confidently in front of an audience. My dance training was enriched by my opportunity to study with guest choreographers, each with his or her own unique style. As a member of the Ensemble, I participated in the choreography of company performance pieces and in other technical components of the performance process. As an Ensemble member, I danced in Indonesia and on a barge with the American Wind Symphony. I danced for inner-city children and for the Vice President of the United States. I danced in the Thanksgiving parade in Philadelphia and at the opening ceremonies for the Women's Basketball Hall of Fame. I studied under professional choreographers, and I helped teach a master class for school children in Singapore. I have helped choreograph Ensemble pieces, and I was asked to choreograph the last two musicals performed at my school. I danced for the enrichment of others, but I also danced for the enrichment of my own life. Being an Ensemble member was not easy; it required hard work, personal sacrifices, and an uncompromising quest for excellence. From the time I was eleven years old, I spent at least twenty hours per week during the school year, and sometimes more than fifty during the summers, either on tour or at the studio taking company classes and rehearsing. As a result, I became a master at time organization and an experienced goal setter. I learned to anticipate the needs of others, to work for the good of the whole, to make independent decisions, and to be personally responsible. I learned that there are no stars because we are all stars, each with our own unique gifts. We were all members of the Ensemble, and we all contributed to every dance, whether we were on the stage dancing or backstage helping with costume changes. We shared our gifts with one another and developed our talents with the help of one another. I learned the value of constructive criticism, both how to graciously give it and how to graciously accept it. I learned the importance of practicing good judgment and making honorable decisions. The other members of the Ensemble did not become my peers; they became my sisters. The studio and the tour buses we often rode became our portable classrooms, a place where we shared our secrets and our fears with one another, where we laughed together and cried together. I was blessed with the opportunity to be with other dancers, each of us joined to the other by the threads of common goals, commitments and values. I did my best and in return asked and received the same from each of the others. As official Goodwill Ambassadors for the State of Tennessee, we became more than dancers; we also became diplomats. In so many instances, we were children helping other children. It was my goal and my responsibility to be an inspiration and positive role model for other children. I wanted to show other children that we, even as young members of society, can achieve excellence, if we work hard and believe in ourselves. The dedication and self-discipline necessary to reach a professional level remain with me still today as I continue to dance. I have been exposed to many types of dance, from ballroom to hip-hop. I have become an accomplished dancer, and aspiring to excellence and never accepting anything less has become an ideal which is applied to all aspects of my life. I continue to take weekly classes and participate in master classes and dance workshops offered by guest teachers from other parts of the country. As a member of a group of selected dancers, I continue to perform for area audiences in productions such as Primitive Light and Perspective of Modern Dance. I was recognized as one of the top ten dancers in my age class at the International Model and Talent Convention in Los Angeles and placed first in eleven events and second in three events in my age class at a national ballroom dance competition. All aspects of dance, as a performer or simply as a member of the audience, fill my heart with joy. Dance is the one part of my life that will always be truly mine, one which no one can take away, because the feeling comes from within myself. For me, dancing is living. The study and performance of dance is that which sustains my soul and my very being. I hope to have the opportunity to continue dancing throughout college to enrich my life and the lives of those in the audience. Theater As I performed with the Ensemble, I began to realize that my love for the performing arts extended beyond dance and into theater. In the seventh grade, I was given the lead in our middle school, one-act play. Being in this play introduced me to the thrill and excitement of performing as an actress on stage. I auditioned for the school play the following year and was again awarded a leading role. Because of my time commitment to the Ensemble, my theater activities were somewhat limited until I turned sixteen and left the Ensemble. Since that time, I have taken acting classes from various professionals as well as at my school as part of the curriculum. Each year my involvement in theater has grown. I have performed in productions at my school, at a community theater, and last summer with a professional company. I am an avid lover of both theater and film. I have studied the Meisner technique as well as improvisation and Shakespeare. My training background has been very diverse. When I participated in a monologue competition as a part of the International Model and Talent Association Convention in Los Angeles, I was awarded one of two scholarships to the School for Film and Television in New York. I was unable to attend due to prior performance commitments, but the affirmation of my hard work was encouraging. My theater experience extends beyond the realm of acting. I have been able to help direct and produce a drama club production at my school. I was also selected by the director of the theater department to be the choreographer and assistant director for a main-stage production at my school. My dance ability has enhanced my acting career by making me a more versatile actress. The culmination of all of my hard work and dedication was seen last summer when I was invited to perform with the Smoky Mountain Shakespeare Company in their season's production of A Midsummer Night's Dream. As a college student, I plan to major in theater and attend graduate school in both theater and law.
Essay Category:
Essay Question:
Please describe an interest or activity that has been especially meaningful to you.
I skimmed the words in our latest creative writing exercise, the analysis of William Carpenter's poem, 'Girl Writing a Letter.' I spotted the terms 'museum,' 'Vermeer,' and 'artist,' and immediately shuddered. With art dealers as parents, I had rebelliously avoided all things museum related. My love for poetry, however, impelled me to glance at the poem once more. I suddenly realized that the poem reflected the very attitude I held for art: the desire to bond emotionally with a work. In the opening lines of the poem the protagonist, a thief, tapes shut the mouth of a museum guard, who is a symbol of the admiration of art on merely an aesthetic basis. The thief is recognized as a man familiar with the arts, although sadly, he has been instructed to maintain an aloofness from the paintings that he studies. He is the antithesis of the guard, a symbol of not only seeing, but experiencing art. The thief is poetically portrayed as physically entering the painting, awakening the soul of its subject, the 'girl writing a letter.' Each line of the poem seemed to represent an aspect of my own feelings. I dissected each line, seeking new meaning in the poem's smallest details. I tackled the allusions fearlessly, conquering the metaphorical implications, applying my own sense of experience. Poetry analysis provides an outlet for my imagination while still allowing for a methodical interpretation of each poetic element. Each poem holds in store an abstract message, a collage of literary images meant to evoke certain emotions or thoughts. For me, 'Girl Writing a Letter' proved to be not only an exercise in critical analysis, but an emotional outlet as well. I traced the relationship of the poem's thief with the female subject of the painting. The two, in a moment of artistic epiphany, escape together from the museum. This is the climactic moment of the poem in which the thief successfully defies the 'rules' of aesthetic observation. He has brought to life the object of his love, art, embodied in Vermeer's girl writing a letter. He has lived my own dream of entering a work of art; an expression of visual, literary and emotional sensations; and he has stolen the experience evoked by the work into his own life. This man, represented as a criminal, is the symbol of emotion unleashed, the essence of human passion and imagination. He is the literary analyst within me, an obsessive prowler pilfering the coded treasure of figurative language.
Essay Category:
Essay Question:
Please describe which of your activities has been most meaningful and why.
I stood before my audience, a member of a devoted ensemble. My voice had the habit of cracking periodically, but I focused on the task at hand, drawing strength from the more steady voices around me. I was stationed before a group of senior citizens, residents of a local nursing home. This was my first of many visits to an assisted living center, so I was not particularly comfortable exercising my less than ideal voice in front of a group of strangers, even if they didn't have particularly sharp hearing. My foray into public singing was part of a two-week internship with a program called FOCUS (Fellowship of Christian Students in Universities and Schools), devoted to examining the service aspect of Christianity. My peers were more practiced not only in the art of singing, but in that of service as well. I had decided to join the trip to this nursing home, however, in order to seek a new experience. After performing a number of songs before several different groups in the building, we were permitted to spend time with the residents. Through this process I met Iris, who saw her family only during the holiday season. She admitted to me that she missed her grandchildren immensely. She sat on a couch, rocking from side to side, reminiscing about how I reminded her of her granddaughter. I also met Liz, a demon with her electric wheelchair and a sharp sense of humor. After being introduced to an attractive male friend of mine, she exclaimed 'Oh wow! Aren't you a looker!' and then proceeded to flirt shamelessly. These women shared with me their losses, their loves, and stories of their youth, which they missed almost obsessively. They observed me with their eyes, reliving their memories through my presence. Upon my return home, I shared with my family the story of my experience in this nursing home. Being at boarding school, I find that there is little time to seek out and participate in community service projects that are not organized by the school. As a result, I decided to devise my own program, called 'Teen Friends of the Arts,' which would allow me to visit assisted living centers and expose 'at risk' children to the arts, during my school vacation periods. Winter vacation provided not only a sufficient amount of time, but also the opportunity to perform a variety of musical pieces. My family agreed to accompany me on my visits, and soon we had formed an entire musical ensemble. I played each song on the piano, with several relatives providing vocals and even a saxophone accompaniment. I have been lucky enough to enjoy some very spirited audiences. Some residents have participated with vocals of their own; others have taken part in each song by clapping the rhythm or even dancing. Occasionally I resort to self-humiliation tactics by donning reindeer antlers or headbands covered in bells that jingle while I play and sing songs. Even in my lowest moments, my thoughts are brightened by the smiles I see on the faces around me; smiles infused by a sense of appreciation and the memories of youth revived.
Essay Category:
Essay Question:
Common Application Personal Statement
My birth coincided with the sale of one of the 20th century's most famed paintings, van Gogh's Irises. Three months after I came into this world, my art dealer parents carried me off to England with an Israeli bodyguard in tow in order to publicize the sale of the painting. By the time I had cut my first tooth, my parents had sold the work in a Sotheby's auction. My face appeared on the cover of the magazine, Art Newsa single issue copy'a gift from the publisher to herald my arrival. The entire chain of events served merely as a preamble for the 'abnormal' lifestyle that was to follow. On the positive side, I've had a chance to meet Russia's former President Gorbachev, artists such as Jacob Lawrence, Paul Cadmus and Alex Katz, and David Driskell, foremost scholar on the history of African-American art, artist, art collector and art advisor to many well-known African-American celebrities. On the down side, my parents decided to overcompensate by pushing me to my intellectual limits and by being careful not to give me any unearned advantages. At the age of two, my mother started me on a course of museum visits. I have been dragged through the Metropolitan Museum, MoMA, the Art Institute of Chicago and various art fairs countless times, and while many would consider this a cultural advantage, I have to admit that I have grumbled through many exhibits. Though in time I grew up enough to appreciate the art, I resisted being told what to appreciate and what each piece of art represented. Rather than distantly admiring the work of others, I wanted to make my own pieces and explore the world of art through my own perspective and potential. Ever since I have been drawing ardently, and I still prefer to create than to observe. In the 9th grade, I found myself at a private school in Boca Raton, Florida, surrounded by peers whose parents had showered them with a BMW or a Mercedes a year prior to obtaining even a learner's permit. I received no such car, and instead received the promise of a four-wheel family artifact. I also relied on standard sun exposure, which apparently made me an anomaly. One of my classmates struggled to earn a certain GPA so that his mother would reward him with a visit to a tanning salon. The level of intellectual curiosity was not promising - most kids were more concerned with what variety of drugs and alcohol would be at upcoming parties than with which English assignment was due the next day. My friends were attending raging concerts and passing out on stage while I was home passing out over chemistry books and developing preliminary sketches for poetry projects with nearing deadlines. Unlike one of my friends, whose father had invented the electronic device on retail clothing that spits ink or rips clothing vengefully when provoked, I was promised no future stipend. I was to rely on my own resources. With this in mind, I decided to remove myself from the school in which life revolved around owning a pair of sunglasses larger than one's face for the sake of style. I spent months examining my options in terms of relocation. I sought recommendations of boarding schools through friends and family, attempting to gauge what type of school would suit me best. I had developed a list of the qualities I sought in a school. I then prepared my risumi and essays for five schools. Miraculously, a family friend suggested St. Andrew's School in Delaware. I was skeptical, and upon reading the viewbook I could focus only on the term 'Appoquinimink River,' developing new pronunciations of the name for the purpose of self-amusement. In visiting, however, I felt comfortable enough to participate in poetry analysis during an English class, and my attachments formed to the students left me hooked. I settled into my new environment nestled in the cornfields of Delaware, far from concerts, museums, tanning salons, or any other civilized institutions. Student driving was prohibited, which suited me well, considering I had not earned my permit because I was still too young. At this school, faculty and students recognized work as essential, but still maintained close-knit relationships within the community. Many may think the school isolated, but the moment I stepped onto campus, I felt bound to the atmosphere of egalitarianism and inclusiveness. I felt immediately drawn to the engaging and caring faculty, the receptive and hard-working students, and the idyllic setting complete with a genuine pond. In Florida, the only ponds I had witnessed were man-made, and usually contained imported fish or displaced alligators. I suddenly had the opportunity to experience work, friendships, and even art as I chose. I delved into mathematics, conducted water balloon fights on the lawn, and devoted myself to drawing in my free time. I had finally emerged from the scripted pace of my previous lifestyle to discover my own intellectual interests and talents that did not depend on the fad of the day. At St. Andrews I was on my own, and I relished the chance to fail or to succeed on my own terms. I spent six consecutive summers immersing myself in math, literature, and political philosophy. During the year I pushed myself beyond my former limits. I have been able to write poetry in my free time, execute charcoal drawings and oil paintings, and experience the role of an Egyptian dancer in Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat, as well as that of an opining lady in the ensemble of H.M.S. Pinafore. I work with young, at-risk children, run a religious debate group, tutor peers in math, captain the varsity tennis team, edit the School's formerly defunct newspaper and serve on a committee that reviews prospective candidates for the faculty. I finally have departed from the trail of being a spectator of events within my own life, and I have instead charted and pursued my own course of decisions and actions.
Essay Category:
Essay Question:
How did you become interested in applying to Yale?
During my first visit to Yale in the summer of 2003, I was instantly drawn to the residential college system. Each courtyard I entered offered visions of Master's Teas, college-run musicals, and intramural sports. Since that first encounter I have spent hours on the Yale website basking in the harmonies of student-organized a cappella groups such as The Spizzwinks, Proof of the Pudding, and Out of the Blue. However, it was not until I recently read that one of the major priorities of Yale's new academic dean, Peter Salovey, is the development of 'educational experiences' using the University's collections and resources in a direction consonant with my own interests in both science and art, that my zeal for Yale went from a bright spark to a full blaze. Subsequently, I decided to visit once again in order to sit in on some classes. One of the several classes I attended was an Introduction to Architecture lecture, taught by Professor Alexander Purves, the focus of which was the correlation of structural engineering to climactic factors. During the lecture, Professor Purves presented the Sullivan Building and Frank Lloyd Wright's Larkin Building as examples of construction related to ventilation, and I found myself immediately drawn into the thought process under discussion. Having previously learned of the aesthetic factors influencing construction in my high school 'Foundations in Art' course, I was able to appreciate the more complex discourse being presented. Through my classroom experience this fall, I saw in Yale a focus on interdisciplinary study. I think of architectural design as the aesthetic hybrid of art and mathematics. I am seeking an educational experience that will let me explore and examine topics in mathematics, art, science and literature through interdisciplinary study. My dual interests in mathematics and literature/art makes Yale the closest match of all the colleges I have visited.
Essay Category:
Essay Question:
Please write a personal essay of your choice.
A Necessary Role I retreated to my room that night, shut the door, and sat on my bed with a journal I'd never opened. But I felt I had to record the night my parents broke up; so I grabbed a dull, number two pencil and tried to describe the shouting downstairs. 'Loud,' 'angry,' and 'normal' were probably the naove, adolescent adjectives I scribbled down, but I certainly understood what caused my dogs to frantically whimper outside my door. I let the pathetic creatures into the safety of my room and lifted them onto my twin bed, leaving a corner for myself. I stroked and stroked those two, curled balls of ruffled fur, and by the time they began to snore, the house was quiet again and peacefully dark. I felt mature and independent that night, protecting my dogs from the muffled racket of breaking glass and slamming doors. And while I, nervous, small, confused, and ignorant, held my heart in my throat all night, I had to appear stoic, stable, and sane. I was the one who did not cry that night. Years later, the painful moaning of my mother called me away from my midnight toiling on a Contemporary American Literature essay on The Natural. I entered her room, masking my annoyance for the interruption and my reluctance to do anything but finish the paper and sleep. But I knew that the solitary figure, hidden in blankets with her hands clasping her head, was my mother with a headache. So I cracked her window to let the spring night in and switched on her electric fan for cross ventilation. Next, as usual, I placed a wet washcloth on her forehead until heavy breathing replaced agonized whimpers. But as I began to massage her temples, she started to whine again, and tears crawled down her cheek. I knew these tears were unrelated to pain or her embarrassment for needing me. So in the fan's dusty humming, I hugged her and reassured her. 'You still have me,' I said, and she smiled. My duty done, I closed the window, switched off her gloomy overhead light, and went back to work. I also remember jumping in my father's car after school one windy, autumn afternoon. To my surprise and discomfort a blond woman sat shotgun beside my father. 'Hello Sam,' she gushed sweetly. I returned a 'hi,' trying hard to respect the woman who I blamed for ripping my family into chaotic shreds. I politely answered her torrent of questions concerning me, including cross-country, my sister, and my favorite restaurants. Had I started to describe the nights I spent consoling my broken mother, my father's depression and guilt would have consumed him. So for his sake, I smiled and laughed from the backseat, describing my favorite ice cream flavor: mint chocolate chip. Ever since that night with my dogs I have had to be my parents' stability, a consistent, focused, positive force in the house, absorbed in academic work and encouraging my parents. So when my sister left at fifteen for boarding school and my father soon after, I continued to work and work and support my mother and her illness and reassure my guilt-ridden father that his affair was 'fine' with me. But I felt mature and sophisticated being the deadline-making, steady, optimistic worker at my fragmented family's core. And when my mother, after her brain surgery, said my head rubbing might have saved her life, I disregarded it as part of my family role.
Essay Category:
Essay Question:
Describe an activity of particular importance to you.
The History of Chess When I sit down to a chessboard, I don't consider what chess means to me, the thirteen years I've played it, thirteen years of history, stories, and people. I just want to lose myself in the game I love. Hit the clock. My opening pawn is a crack in a damn. My opponent must respond defensively but ultimately threaten as well. The game continues in a pattern of response and elaboration until I form a comfortable defense, a parabolic confusion of various chessmen, shielding a weak king. The middle game, the battle, commences, but it's a standstill. Wait, wait for his mistake, weakness, opening. It may take hours or seconds, but one side's defense will crack and crumble. Then one greedy, 'unimportant' pawn charges into enemy territory and realizes the defensive hole it's left behind. The finale is a quick and sudden flood, thrilling for both players and satisfying for one. My heart jumps every time I see a chessboard. The squares, the pieces, the strategy, the possibility, and the tension ready to surge onto a clean battlefield... I feel it all. For me, there's nothing like seeing new moves, plans, and combinations and having to improvise, gamble, sacrifice, and defend. Sure, my friends call me 'dorky,' but my intense and enthusiastic view of chess really stems from a deep, personal history I have with the game. I still remember when my mother withdrew an elegant, wooden chess set to teach me, at five, how to play. First, I watched her battle my sister, my eyes dancing to follow the pieces' gentle clinking. A few weeks later, I won my first tournament and was listed in the Washington Post. I lugged my trophy to school, showed it to my apathetic classmates, and grinned all week about my first real achievement. In fact, my friends who tease me about chess only know that I trained for years at the United States Chess Center. They don't know how I felt when the Chess Center's influential, obsessive, and condescending head instructor, Mr. Mehler, pushed me and other impressionable pre-schoolers to win, compete, and strive to be one of his 'elite' students. I used to cry after every tournament I lost and often wanted to quit chess altogether. When I found myself adopting Mr. Mehler's mentality, forgetting the game I once loved and played with my mother, I quit the Chess Center and joined the Potomac Youth Chess League. And I still chuckle remembering the overcast Saturday my mother and I got lost driving to a Potomac Youth Chess League meet. My mother stopped the car on a remote, forest road and laughed when she saw the directions: Turn left at the house with five mailboxes. Well, such lunacy was part of my memorable chess life! For me, chess is more than a great board game; it's my youth. It's the incredible, blind high school player that beat me in sixth grade. It's Teresa, the creepy girl who always played in white gloves. It's our school bus's hit-and-run accident en route to a chess club meet at Lincoln High. It's spending all day in a crowded tournament waiting room with a zip-locked sandwich and leaving with nothing but more stories. And since my friends will never see the night I stood up to Mr. Mehler in an 8x8 board, they'll never really know why my heart jumps when I see a chessboard.
Essay Category:
Essay Question:
Please describe which of your activities (extracurricular and personal activities or work experience) has been most meaningful and why.
Looking Down While I am most proud of my varsity letters, what Ill always remember about cross-country is the dreary afternoon I first ran up Mount Mansfield. It was the August before my sophomore year during pre-season cross-country camp's annual mountain run, a non-stop, four-mile, dirt road climb. Of course, I felt even more terrified when, despite my protests, my coach placed me in the fastest group of runners, the first to ascend the Mountain. At the run's start, lagging behind my group added worries of getting lost to the exaggerated, mythic images of Mount Mansfield already in my mind, and I doubted I could run half the way. But after the pace slowed, I was able to join two older runners and jog with them to the summit. In fact, by the last mile of my fifty-six minute trek, I was noticing and even appreciating the rainy cloud through which we were running, the Vermont evergreens that seemed to stride with me, the cold air, my shoes, and the steep valley, which later appeared on my left. And while the run itself was hardly pleasurable, I found something soothing and beautiful in its surroundings and in the thrill of conquering it. I ran up Mount Mansfield without stopping that day and twice more since then. Last August, during my final ascent, when I watched first-timers crest that windy summit to look over their accomplishment below, I saw how far I had come too. It was a physical and intangible distance, and that's why I still run cross-country.
Essay Category:
Essay Question:
Open-ended personal statement
Some people call him a neo-environmentalist tree hugger; the kind you see sporting an array of 'green' bumper stickers on the back of their hybrids, eager and ready to disparage any politician who's environmental record isn't up to par. And it's partly true - he is one of those people who won't enter a restaurant without his handy set of reusable flatware; the kind who shun McDonald's and its 'fellow conspirators' in the fast- food market because of their environmentally adverse actions in some far-off, barely pronounceable region of the Southern Hemisphere. But I'd hate to leave it at that, for it only begins to tell the story. Tom is a friend of mine. He.s fifty-six years of age and suffers from cerebral palsy. I know little about his past, apart from the bits and pieces he divulges now and again - modest vignettes of a haunting existence that stands in stark contrast to the more privileged life I have known. Tom has been through hell, if such an experience is possible here on earth, and he's that much stronger as a result. The Tom I know today is unusually spirited, caring, unconventional, embarrassing, and admirable - all in one. He's the kind of person who doesn't take sh*t from anyone. If you try to sell him something for more than it's worth, you can kiss your transaction goodbye. If you try to convince him you really do care about the environment, be ready for an arduous cross- examination. He'll look a stranger in the eye and speak with blunt honesty - a kind of honesty that I have found rare in this day and age. Which is partly why I like him. As much as I hate to admit it, a side of me is, without a doubt, a 'politician.' I can say the 'right' thing at the 'right' time if I try, being as politically correct as my high school principal. I can negotiate in a flowing vocabulary that says a lot, but means next to nothing. Given my work in political activism, the circles in which I find myself are so often brimming with political correctness that personal convictions are set aside for fear they might conflict with a prescribed plan or agenda. It's all about 'politics'. To this, Tom always had the same simple response: 'You won.t get anywhere in life unless you be yourself.' I've tried, and I've tried hard, but I've got a long way to go. Why is it that being someone else is such a simple undertaking, while being oneself calls for unusual effort, if not courage? I'd like to think that I really do, or really can occupy an array of different personalities, but such fronts, in the end, prove futile. 'Dan the politician', 'Dan the jock', 'Dan the musician/artist/clown', 'Dan the nerd/ bookworm/computer junkie.' No, I'm really much simpler than that. Sensitive of my own weaknesses, proud of my accomplishments, yet genuinely interested in the world around me, I'm a pretty normal kind of guy of somewhat abnormal background. I've been blessed beyond imagination - not by money or possessions, but by parents who cultivated my head, heart, and hands in equal degree and with equal devotion; by an education that fostered imagination, planting in me a profound and unshakeable love of learning; and by a brother who set an exemplary course for me to follow, challenging me to carve out my own identity in the process. Sometimes, I wish I could just go out onto the street and strike up a conversation with a random passerby. I'd ask for whom he voted in the last election, what he thought of Mid-East peace, what made him tick? I'd tell him that I'm fed up with politics as usual and with citizens ignoring their fundamental responsibilities. I'd tell him I love learning languages, am sick of Americans assuming superiority over everything, and how I wish I could visit the world one ghetto at a time. I'd tell him I wrestle with pride, have hardly ever failed in the outer world, and need to start examining my own self. Then I'd wish him a good day, and encourage him to read Gandhi's autobiography, or at least watch the movie, which stars Ben Kingsley. But I'm not sure I could do that - not yet. It would mean bursting my bubble, 'stepping outside of the box,' and that would be more than I could handle. But Tom can. Blundering fool though he may seem at times, Tom can strike down convention any day of the week if it conflicts with his own integrity. He's a man with a calling, and his ears are finely tuned. Which is why I have a fifty-six year old, vociferous, half-crazy environmentalist with cerebral palsy as my role model.
Essay Category:
Essay Question:
Write about an interest or activity that has been relevant to you or your life.
I live at a frenetic pace. High-speed, wound up, talking at a million miles an hour and drumming my fingers on the table, I'm always moving. My few moments of leisure come during the only activity that I really can't hurry: when I hang a towel around my neck, break out the Mach 3, and take five minutes to shave my face. Shaving gives me a few minutes to relax, no matter how crazy my days; if I hurried, I'd probably nick my carotid artery and pass out with my head in the sink. The shaving, a long-ago choreographed ritual, plays out on its own, leaving my attention free to wander. I'm soothed by the steam rising from the sink as it meets the coolness of a newly bared cheek, and I'm lulled by the small rasping sounds of the razor clearing a path through foam and beard. That time, brief as it may be, is as important to keeping me sane as it is to keeping me clean-shaven. My dad taught me to shave when I decided, in eighth grade, that it was time to do away with my nascent adolescent moustache. A few years have passed since then, but shaving remains for me an affirmation of fast-approaching adulthood. I'll be leaving home soon, leaving most of what I know, and shaving reminds me of that easily-forgotten fact. It's a calendar that I can't help noticing, marking off every day that passes with the sweeping of the razor - the only calendar I have, since my Far Side tear-off model is forever stuck at January 7, 2001. While it reminds me of my inexorable forward motion, shaving can also take me back in time. As I navigate a tough spot just under my chin, I'll think about, say, my friend Sophie making fun of me in eighth grade for cutting that spot 'trying to shave.' The comment still stings, but comes accompanied by a host of related memories; soon I'm remembering a close friend from the same period, a guy named Griffin who once taught me how to skateboard and who has, sadly, become one of those people whom I perennially mean to call yet somehow never do. Shaving can also mark the solemnity of an occasion. As I shave before a jazz band performance, it's hard to forget that I'll soon be closely inspected, and that my playing will require just as much attention and as few mistakes. Shaving before a visit to my grandmother imbues that ritual with added gravity in the same subtle way as does shining my shoes or wearing a tie. It's a mark of respect for the occasion, one more way of distinguishing it from ordinary days - all the more so since I rarely shave out of anything but absolute necessity. Shaving is a strikingly unlikely ritual of adulthood; the act itself is so innocuous that its impact always surprises me. At the same time, those few minutes carry another burden, as great as the first: they are a guaranteed, albeit thin, buffer against days that threaten at times to overwhelm me. In fifty years, long after the action itself has lost its remaining novelty, I'll still appreciate those few minutes of sanctuary from a life probably no less frenetic than it is today.
Essay Category:
Essay Question:
Minor essay: Some students may want to tell us more about themselves than they are able to convey in the Common Application's Short Answer and Personal Essay. We invite you to write, if you wish, an additional essay of not more than 500 words that you feel will help us to learn more about you as a human being. That is the goal of a 'personal' essay.
For years, contact lenses were my Holy Grail. I yearned, I lusted, I lived for them. Let me explain. I got my first pair of glasses in third grade, and by the next year I was wearing them full-time. I objected to this for a number of reasons: glasses leave you zero peripheral vision, you can't lie on your side to read or watch television, you're perennially dodging anything that even vaguely resembles a glasses-threatening projectile, such as Frisbees or pigeons, and you can't wear regular sunglasses. Yeah, without glasses I would have walked into things and felt silly, but I still had to wonder whether they were worth the trouble. The final indignity were those sports glasses - you know, the ones with the thick, rubberized frames and shatterproof lenses? I started wearing those shortly after stopping a soccer ball with my face during a heated game and having my glasses cut into both my eyebrows, but before realizing that I have (I suspect) a narrower head than most, and as a result look like a fly even in 'normal people' glasses. My sports frames were even larger than regular ones, but I wore them anyway, oblivious to my shame. Eventually, of course, I looked in a mirror and afterwards never wore them again. Glasses also seem to give rise to fidgeting and odd habits. I used to have a friend who, dissatisfied with his prescription, would simply tilt his glasses until the angle changed their power enough to suit him. As a result, he frequently walked around with his frames tipped downward at a forty-five degree angle. My father, faced with the same problem, had a different solution: for a long time, he would tilt his head back and to the side, then peer around his glasses at whatever he was trying to see, which was by that point only inches from his face anyway. You can see why I was pretty excited to get contacts when the optometrist decided I was old enough. No more broken frames. No more wandering around the ocean or swimming pool pretending I knew which blobs were my family and which were beach umbrellas. No more glasses, period. Of course, all that was forgotten in the agony of wearing contacts for the first time, but that's no more, and it was worth it. Oh, boy, was it worth it. Just being able to see things from the corner of my eye still exhilarates me when I think about it. Every so often, I have to disregard my fanatical devotion to my contacts, though, and wear my glasses - I recently had pinkeye, for example, and didn't wear them for weeks. And I realized something: I don't really mind them so much any more. I guess it's just human nature to object to almost anything imposed upon us - relatives, work, or hair loss, for example - but what you see in the end is that relatives give you presents, work lets you pay the rent, hair loss prevents overheating in summer, and, well, no one ever accidentally washed his glasses down the sink.
Essay Category:
Essay Question:
Personal Statement
Portrait of Eva, Over Falling Snow and Soggy Bags She reminded me of one of those Spanish cleaning ladies from my Brooklyn childhood, those women all named Marta or Anita with faded leggings tucked into sagging white socks. I didn't even know what socks she was wearing, but here she was, Eva, arms wobbling as she moved about behind the counter in her thin white undershirt, ridiculously underdressed for this weather. She moved methodically, never blinking, sending slices of cold pizza skidding into the oven with a single strike. All it took was one customer to say the word, and there she'd go, flinging the pizza so hard I could hear sauce splatter and drip down the wall, and in three minutes it would be ready. Her customers were all sitting around, washing their defrosted slices of pizza down with cans of flat Coke, when I came inside. I had missed the bus again. Wanting to warm my hands before trekking home in the snow, I was met with Eva's scornful greeting as I walked in. 'Yes!' she barked, grimacing, anticipating my pleading glance. Please, let me stay inside for a bit, I have no money, I begged, it's freezing. In answer, Eva gave an emphatic sweep of her broom and glared me out the door. She never seemed to stop sweeping, moving the dust around that little place, corner to corner, as though she could change something by cleaning it, as though all the past needed was a good dusting. I went outside and stood there for a while. The hazy snow covered the ground like a raggedy blanket, and I could almost make out my reflection in the puddle of slush. Thinking about it like that, I forgot my rejection for a minute. I wanted to whirl around with my face to the sky as the words whirled in my head like voodoo incantations; I wanted to laugh wildly, ecstatic at my treasure. What I needed was a box big enough to fit the whole scene inside it, to store it in my attic, so brimming with inspiration that it would drip through the ceiling cracks and flood my house with magic. What I needed was a warm room, my bean bag chair, a pen. As I stood there wondering what to do with my night, Eva stared at me from the window. I've seen this episode before, I thought, I know what happens: now she invites me back in, gruffly apologizes, gives me a free slice of pizza, ducks back into her kitchen. The music crescendos: Eva slowly peeks out from behind her oven, comes closer, starts talking to me. We embrace, forget the past, move on... But this doesn't happen at all. Eva turns back to her next customer, who is handing her money, making small talk, buying a slice of pizza as though it were the easiest transaction in the world. Instead of waltzing back in and strangling her, I remember the advice Raul, my writing mentor, gave me: 'All around you the world is bursting with poems. You just have to stop and take it in.' And suddenly, as scents of cheese and pepperoni mingle with the snowflakes falling on my nose, I drop my bags into a puddle, shrug my scarf off my shoulders, and take out a pencil and notebook. In the soggy night, I sit outside Evas window with my thoughts. And under the light of her doorway, I move my wrist to silence us both.
Essay Category:
Essay Question:
General personal statement, no topic
Reach As I cross the green, I pause to take one last glance over my shoulder at the castle, trying to capture an image that will last me a lifetime. Months ago, as I daydreamed at home in Taiwan, the desire found its way into my head: I wanted to kiss the Blarney Stone. As an Asian American, I do not have any drop of Irish blood in me. The strange urge, though, grew stronger, and by August, I have managed to fly, walk, ride, run, and tumble my way to Blarney Castle in Ireland. That was the summer after grade ten; and actually, I aspired then to do more than just kiss the Blarney Stone. I wanted to set foot in the Vatican, behold the Leaning Tower of Pisa, visit the little Irish town called Tralee, reunite with Irish friends I had met a year earlier, marvel at the magnificent Book of Kells, and venture up the snowy mountains of Switzerland. In order to do so many different things, I needed great control over my itinerary, so I decided to make the trip alone: total freedom. As I was only fifteen years old, making my own trip would be a challenge. I would have to plan my route, book youth hostels, compare airfares, pack for the long trek, and fly alone to Europe. When I finally touched down at my destination, I would have to find my own way to the hostel on foot and public transport: a reasonable budget would permit no taxi rides. Then, for about five weeks, I would be on my own. My family and friends would be back home, thousands of miles away. My parents had complete confidence in me, but I wondered, as I hugged them goodbye, if their confidence was misplaced. Before I knew it, though, I was checking in at the hostelI had made it to Rome. I soon met other travelers who shared my interests and discovered that I could easily make friends if I felt lonely. I learned to be independent, to be a street-smart backpacker, and to get along with strangers. First in Italy and then in Ireland and Switzerland, I surprised myself by being able to roam and discover on my own with only a trusty cell phone as a lifeline. I found museums to visit, streets to shop, ancient ruins to explore, and national parks to hike. Afterwards, I always managed to arrive back at Pisa Centrale Station for my next train, Bus Iireann Killarney Station for my next bus, or Zurich Flughafen for my flight home. I realized each of the dreams I had had in Taiwan and new ones that came to me in Europe, like biking through Killarney National Park. The park boasts many breathtaking sights ranging from waterfalls to castles and from gardens to lakes. Exploring the park, I biked over 24 miles in one day. After hours upon hours of cycling, I was exhausted; the stunning beauty of the terrain ahead, however, kept me moving. I remember parking my rented bicycle on the shore of a vast, serene lake and sitting at the waters edge. There was not another human in sightin any given direction, I could see only the emerald of grass and leaves, the amber of branches and earth, and the sapphire of water and sky. The idyllic beauty of my surroundings was overwhelming. However, what I enjoyed that summer, more than the scenery and the landmarks, was the independence and the adventure. For the first time in my life, I was completely on my own, free to go where I wanted, when I wanted, free to follow my itinerary or change it on a whimfree to decide. I discovered that when we chase our dreams, we are on our own, but if we want something intensely enough, we will find a way to reach out for it. I accomplished much that summerI have fifteen rolls of film and a new, confident outlook to prove it. Those five weeks were the most amazing ones of my life.
Essay Category:
Essay Question:
Describe an activity or extracurricular involvement and its importance to you.
InterAct Memories 'Do you know why I come here every day?' asked the woman, ecstatically, poised over the donation receipt she was about to complete. 'Its because of people like you! You've made my day. You could be watching a baseball game, but here you are, raising money for UNICEF!' I thought guiltily of the Mets ticket in my back pocket. The game was to begin in less than two hours. I wasn't really the boy this UNICEF volunteer thought I was. But I was trying. I did enjoy working in the community. There is something about leading a blind toddler down a long corridor or trying to explain Mother's Day to an orphan'a feeling at once cold and warm - that makes me remember, This is why I stay in InterAct, why I have chosen InterAct. In the ninth grade, my first InterAct Club (international action service club) activity was a senior citizens' health convention co-sponsored by InterAct's parent Rotary Club. I helped a dentist give free checkups and teach dental hygiene. I enjoyed the experience, and I have been in InterAct ever since. While staffing InterAct's do-it-yourself greeting card booth at a charity fair, I faced the matter of explaining Mother's Day to an orphan. I was amazed and impressed by the boy's grinning acceptance of the facts of his lifehis candor and smile showed no trace of grief or resentment. I vowed to remember his resilience and keep my mouth shut the next time I felt like complaining about how difficult my own life was. Later, while volunteering at the Lux Mundi Center for the Mentally Impaired, I had the chance to take a Center toddler, who was blind but enjoyed walking, on walks around the complex. This experience served to reinforce my earlier vow. Some of my time at Lux Mundi, where I volunteer monthly with other InterAct members, is spent performing duties like cutting old clothes into washrags, but my favorite part of each visit is caring for the residents. I particularly enjoy working with the children because I feel that they need the most support and that I can make the greatest difference in reaching out to them. While helping out at the Lux Mundi Center is the InterAct activity I enjoy most, I have worked on other InterAct projects as well, such as the Student Beat Concert we held last year. We raised US$650, which we divided between UNICEF and our club's International Crisis Fund, a project I initiated. When disasters occur, groups scramble to fundraise, but victims often need immediate relief. Saving money continuously in advance ensures that we will have cash readily available. We drew from the Fund for the first time this September, when we donated our savings (then $400) to the Red Cross to assist in the aftermath of the World Trade Center attacks. At the end of my junior year in high school, I faced a tough choice. I could choose to run for InterAct President or to run for re-election as Student Council President; I knew better than to attempt to juggle two presidencies along with my senior-year workload. As Council President, I had enjoyed organizing dances and other activities as well as effecting improvements around school like the installation of more storm drains and a student-accessible photocopier for the Bilingual Department. However, I ultimately realized that students at my school do not need dances and photocopies quite so much as children at the Lux Mundi Center need food and care. I found my work in InterAct more meaningful because it allowed me to meet more people and make a greater difference in their lives, so I chose InterActa decision I have never regretted.
