Accepted! 50 successful college admission essays - Gen Tanabe, Tanabe Kelly 2008

Things that represent me
57 successful admission essays

Linda Lau

Flushing, New York

Linda says that a creative essay question makes her think philosophically. So when Cornell asked her to describe three important objects, she refl ected on three Looney Tunes characters. These three animals taught her the value of working hard, how to express herself through music and art and the meaning of dreams. She developed these values while a student at Stuyvesant High School, where she was involved in yearbook and orchestra. Linda also participated in the Hong Kong Dragon Boat Festival.

A Dog, a Cat and a Bird

Cornell University

I remember years ago, I loved watching the Looney Tunes with Tweetie bird, Sylvester the cat and the bulldog. The plot seemed always the same.

Sylvester would try to eat the bird, which would then either outsmart him, hide or seek protection from the dog. That was hardly my favorite show but the three animals involved quite impressively infl uenced my philosophy of life. I believe that as one grows and develops, it is possible for a human to have seemingly contradictory potentials, values and attributes. As a result of these different layers of personality, we can develop into certain “perfect” characters. I fi nd in these three animals some distinct characteristics that I have and wish to possess.

In Chinese culture there is a belief that a person is born into a state of being determined by the exact geo-temporal dimension of birth. Not intending to restrict a person’s abilities, this determination supposedly foretells the characteristics and potentials contained within the person. In my case, by the lunar calendar, I was born in the year of the dog, signifying that I would be a diligent, devoted, straightforward and friendly person. Whether or not I am who I am because of the year I was born into, or rather the self-fulfi lled prophesy created through my own belief that is what I should be, I have indeed turned out to be a devoted hard worker. I may at times be considered stubborn as well. Thinking back, I have indeed spent my fi rst few years in love with dogs. It is one of my favorite animals though I still do not own one, if the one within me is not counted.

I believe I started to like cats a few years after my family picked up a black and white stray cat. The reason for the long lead time was not because of my previous affection for dogs but mainly because of the fear I had of cats.

Extremely clever and in control, the dignifi ed animal does at times seem to be very independent and unperturbed by its surroundings. However, cats will cling on to people they trust. And once a bond is established, it hardly ever breaks unless of course, there is tota l betrayal. There is perhaps a streak of wildness trapped within cats; that they cannot be entirely tamed sometimes makes them pretty dangerous. However, their frankness and show-all emotion is the reason for my liking them. To watch the actions and manners of my cat, whether sleeping cozily on my bed or speeding crazily through the halls, refreshes me like cool breezes in the heat of a summer’s day. In my opinion, a cat’s body language speaks volumes in comparison to human words. Perhaps this is why I would rather express myself through music and art than words, because as descriptive or sym-bolic as words can be, they may not convey true feelings or meanings that are intended.

One day, my cat came back after a walk and presented to my family a dead bird. At that time, my entire family felt shocked and puzzled, but I now know that for the cat the lifeless gift signifi ed his disposition and trust towards us. Coming from an innate instinct, birds were his prey. Catching a bird is his dream come true, a rite-de-passage for his cathood. As fast as birds can glide and as high as they can soar, when the time comes, they are still not quick enough. For me, birds remind me of the goal in front of me that is forever fl ickering but elusive. I don’t have intrinsic powers to catch “birds.” However, like dreams, they are things so fast and beautiful that I hesitate to catch them even if I can for fear that if I do and successfully cage one, it will no longer be the bird I cherished.

In the cartoon, the dog, the cat and the bird coexisted together because they shared the same space and were forced to live together. They are able to grow to adore and aid one other despite their varying personalities. Cor-respondingly, I believe that when a person is given the chance to intermin-gle with others, however idiosyncratic, it may turn out that new and loyal bonds would be established. Life may not always be mischievous chasing, bullying or outsmarting each other after all.

Linda takes a risk by attempting to connect a Looney Tunes cartoon with ancient Chinese philosophy. At fi rst this seems odd but Linda is successful because she ties the characters to her own philosophy and experiences. Her analysis is multifaceted. For example, she addresses both the literal connections between the cartoon cat and her own cat as well as the less overt shared personality traits between her cat and herself.

Using the cartoon as a metaphor for her personality—she is loyal and hard working like a dog, expressive through the arts like a cat and reaching for goals like a cat does for birds—Linda gives a great deal of insight into what kind of person she is. This, after all, is the point of all college admission essays. You need to reveal something about yourself.

That Linda is able to do this through weaving her own traits with that of the animals—both real and animate—is only more impressive.

Gabriel D. Carroll

For this essay, Stanford asked applicants to include a photo of something important to them and write about it. Gabriel’s photo was of paper.

Paperboy

Stanford University

At an age when my friends’ fl oors were strewn with toys, dirty clothes or video-game cartridges, mine was smothered in paper of all sorts—books, magazines, reams of white and college-ruled, paper bags, paper airplanes.

This pattern has survived, and it is representative of the way I live. The house of my life is built on a foundation of paper.

Certainly this element is crucial in all our lives. From money to facial tissues to news to playing cards, paper is a vital organ of the body politic. And I, as a student, laden with schoolwork (and college application forms), should naturally expect to be particularly prone. But, for me, paper goes even beyond this role. Virtually all of my favorite activities are paper-based. I compose music, poetry and prose. I do mathematics, with massive scratchwork as a by-product. I solve cryptic crosswords. Last year, I was involved in CX

debate, which may be cynically but not inaccurately said to consist essentially of reading prepared pieces of paper in a strategically determined order. To me, paper is the natural medium for connecting the mind—whether in its imaginative, mechanical, or emotive capacity—with the physical world. Small wonder, then, that I fi nd I express myself more effectively in writing than in speech, or that, on my habitual multiple-hour walks, I often carry blank paper and pens to jot down any arbitrary thoughts that might seem worthy of retention.

Even beyond this, my intimate relationship with paper extends to some un-orthodox functions. I have developed a rudimentary silent communication system with friends, involving holding up sheets of various colors. When it comes to cleaning up spills, I far prefer the use of paper towels over sponges. At the age of 13, I caused myself some jaw trouble through ex-cessive use of paper as a substitute for chewing gum, though I have largely overcome that habit. In prescribing the role of paper, I can be picky—college-ruled, never wide-ruled, because more words fi t on the former—but I can also be fl exible—using napkins to scribble visual aids during me a ltime conversation.

But as signifi cant as what I chose for this photograph is what I did not choose. Fancier objects would have been inappropriate, because ostenta-tious materialism is meaningless to me. Sure, a few of the habits I have acquired require more expensive materials—programming is diffi cult to do and impossible to do usefully in the absence of a computer; likewise for chess without a board or pieces—but, for the most part, my interests require little more than scribbling equipment. I am a believer in resourcefulness. Do as much as you can with the facilities at your disposal, I say.

Hence, armed with paper and pens, I can (in theory) keep myself entertained all day. In the mathematical world, greater value is attached to a proof of a diffi cult theorem if it uses only the most elementary techniques; perhaps my inheritance of this esthetic is refl ected in my preference for building a life from the simple tools of paper and pens. I spurn more elaborate equipment. Why use a calculator when you can do computations in your head? Reading information from computer screens bothers me; I prefer to print things out, or simply to use books. I would rather simply proofread my own writing than rely on automated spell-checkers. And my dependence on paper embodies not only resourcefulness but thrift. I rarely buy new clothes. I use public transit (or walk), which appears especially frugal in light of today’s gasoline prices. Paper, being plentiful and inex-pensive, fi ts into this scheme. Recently, I took this trait to a new height: whereas I previously sent paper to the recycle bin after depleting one side, I now make a conscious effort to use both sides of every sheet, thus saving on future purchases.

Paper is the staple of my existence (no pun intended). From when I was 6 and spent my days fi lling pads with fantastical designs for houses, zoos and factories, to the present, when I surround myself with sheets bearing drafts of essays on one side and systems of equations on the other, my life has been ruled by this ruled substance—simple, utile and ubiquitous.

Part of the magic of Gabriel’s essay is his ability to fi nd the one common thread that binds his world. Recognizing the importance of paper probably took Gabriel longer than it took to write the actual essay. But paper is the perfect metaphor for who he is.

Gabriel adeptly conveys why paper is so important. He works in his interests from composing music to debating to communicating with friends. He is also able to describe his values of resourcefulness and thrift. His essay is not just about the things he does but also what he believes. By the end of his essay we have a clear mental image of the kind of person Gabriel is and we fully believe that given a pad of paper and pens he could keep himself occupied all day.

Marie A. McKiernan

Warwick, New York

A dancer and pianist since elementary school, Marie has won four Professional Dance Teacher’s Association and Hoctor Dance bronze medals and taught children how to dance. She shares her interests, which include dancing and her love of potatoes, in her essay about three objects. At John S. Burke Catholic High School, she volunteered with the National Honor Society and worked in a dental offi ce to explore a possible future in that fi eld.

A Potato, a Seashell, a Pair of Eyeglasses

Cornell University

A potato, a seashell, a pair of eyeglasses; all three of these small objects offer a window into my personality. I can assure you that I do not picture myself as a round, dirty carbohydrate, a leftover from an oyster dinner or the spectacles from the dollar store my mother seems to constantly misplace; rather, these three objects reveal my versatility, my inner character and my ability to discern different perspectives.

Oddly enough, a potato reveals much about me. I love potatoes. Mashed, baked, broiled, fried or roasted, potatoes are delicious. The versatility seen in the preparation of this vegetable parallels my own versatile interests. On any given day I may fi nd myself choreographing a dance to a new Latin rhythm, discussing calculus with a peer, playing classical music with my father or making greeting cards with a new stamp I purchased. There is no limit to the possibilities. I believe this versatility allows me to be open to new experiences and enables me to adapt to these fresh situations. In addition, like the roots of the potato that grow deep into the ground, the foundation of my character, such as honesty, integrity, compassion and my Catholic faith, are deeply rooted in who I am.

The potato alone only reveals a part of me, so I add the seashell as a representative of another aspect of myself. The seashell’s true beauty and potential lie deep within its channels. One must hold the shell to his or her ear and listen carefully to understand the seashell’s immensity. Similarly, my true potential and inner character lie within me. Therefore, I must listen carefully to my conscience and soul to achieve all I am capable of accomplishing. If I stay true to my values such as truthfulness, humility and kindness, I can reach my greatest ability and personal success. This may include believing in myself when struggling with a new tap step or following my heart and dream of one day becoming a dentist. The seashell reminds me to listen and believe in who I am.

Although the potato and the seashell reveal a majority of who I am, I would be remiss in not mentioning the value of spectacles. I have been cursed with poor eyesight for the majority of my academic career. However, this malady has proved to be a blessing in disguise. My ailing vision introduced me to eyeglasses. Eyeglasses come in a myriad of sizes, shapes, shades and prescriptions; however, they do not singly represent one’s visual handicap or personal style. These possibilities refl ect differing perspectives of sight and life. When I equip myself with spectacles, a window of perspective opens to me. My vague, fuzzy world transforms allowing me to see another perspective. Although my physical vision is limited, I do not allow my vision of the world to be distorted. When I do feel that I am con-stricting my view, I revert to my eyeglasses, my window of perspective and all which I have yet to brave.

A potato, a seashell, a pair of eyeglasses; each of these objects reveals a truth about me. I am a person who desires to indulge in varied experiences, a person who continually tries to be true to herself and a person who quests to see the world in all its colors. These objects bring me back to my reality and fuel my determination for my future.

The introduction to an essay is very important because it entices the admission offi cers, drawing them into the story and making them want to read to the end. Don’t you want to know how these three seemingly disparate objects—a potato, seashell and eyeglasses—are refl ective of Marie?

Notice how Marie defi nes each object in a way that helps her illustrate her personality. The potato is “versatile” while the seashell displays “inner character” and the spectacles not only represent her poor eyesight but her ability to see different “perspectives.” Whatever you write about, you don’t have to use the literal or conventional defi nition. Feel free to be creative and interpret things the way you want to.

Remember, it’s your essay and you are in control. The reader is just along for the ride.

Adam Bayne Hopkins

Dallas, Texas

“I’d like to be the absolute best in one range of study,” says Adam. And he identifi es that area as physics. At Greenhill School, he was awarded the Bausch and Lomb Fellowship for being the best science student in his school and the Physics/Pre-Calculus Student Award. Adam was also captain of the varsity soccer team and participated in weights, boxing and lacrosse. In this essay, he answers Princeton’s Hodge-Podge question, providing brief but insightful answers about what he likes outside of physics as well.

Hodge-Podge

Princeton University

Favorite book: King Rat (James Clavell)

Favorite recording: Sunburn (Fuel)

Favorite movie: Cruel Intentions

Favorite TV program: Star Trek, The Next Generation

Favorite source of news: New York Times, Dallas Morning News

Favorite way to relax: Play soccer/juggle soccer ball, play the piano Favorite time of the year: Winter

Favorite food: Cheese fries

Favorite place to get away from it all: My car

Two adjectives your friends would use to describe you: Intense, devoted A pet peeve of yours: Sometimes people just don’t stop talking

The best advice you’ve ever received: “Always do your best and work your hardest.” (My dad)

As you can tell, this was a short answer question, which allowed Adam to be creative by using a list instead of an essay. (Adam did write a more traditional essay for the longer questions that Princeton asked.) This is an excellent example of how the quality of thinking, rather than the writing, is what makes an essay successful. Each of Adam’s answers appears both genuine and descriptive of who he is. For example, Adam’s responses suggest that he is a science fi ction fan who is intense but has room for creative outlets. He has selected favorite things that really show different sides of his personality, making him an interesting person to the admission offi cers. Like many of the essays in this book, it took Adam a lot longer to conceive this essay than to actually write it.