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

Extracurricular Activities and Athletics
57 successful admission essays

Samantha J. Cooper

New York, New York

A heartbreaking injury forced Samantha to reevaluate her future as a dancer. In her essay, she describes how she dealt with the decision that she says “changed the course of (her) life.” At Horace Mann High School, Samantha was editor of the school’s weekly newspaper, president of the Shakespeare Club and governor of the Northeastern State in the Junior State of America, the highest elected student position. She plans to work in journalism or law.

How Podiatry Begat Oratory

Princeton University

The os trigonum is largely unknown outside dance circles. As its Latin name suggests, it is a bone of triangular shape, typically equilateral. It is found at the base of the ankle and is no greater than two centimeters in size. Like its better-known anatomical counterparts, the tonsils and appendix, this vestigial bone is an evolutionary dead end. My very personal discovery of it forced me to reevaluate my dance career and to seek application of its lessons elsewhere.

My summers were spent dancing at the Saratoga Performing Arts Center since Madam’s stick came to rest at my side. Madam was one of several French-speaking pre-Soviet Russian ballet mistresses. Each mistress had a prized talent, the ability to select from many the few to whom they would impart the collective wisdom of Petipa, Balanchine and Robbins. I met Madam and fi rst spied her stick at an annual carnival of tears, the auditions for the School of American Ballet, teaching affi liate of the New York City Ballet. Places in the school’s pre-professional program were so coveted that any applicant’s chance of admission is less than slight. I was 8 and I thought Madam’s stick prevented her from toppling, but now I understand that her stick was a divining rod. It navigated a sea of pink satin and then came to rest near a few modestly nourished hopefuls.

The stick found me, and joy reigned in our previously danceless household. Family and school schedules would now accommodate my group classes, private classes, auditions and performances. Three hundred “Nutcracker” performances at a nonunion $9 each and an assortment of “Sleeping Beauties” and “Midsummer Night’s Dreams,” followed with increasingly demanding roles and stage time. I joined the company’s trips to the capital district in summer and returned to Lincoln Center for fall season. On stage or off, I was defi ned by teachers, friends and relatives in terms of art. I was a dancer-student, dancer-daughter and dancer-sister. I saw myself the same way, and I thought this identity would endure. All changed that summer when local specialists, Advil and cortisone failed to quiet the superfl uous bone. A surgeon helped the fractured “os,” and life as a ballerina in training had ended. Nature had betrayed me. While recovering, I replayed Madam’s classes and searched for lessons that could be salvaged and applied to other aspects of my life. I was too young to be known for what I used to do.

The bone departed, but the relevance of the lessons remained. From a young age dance instilled discipline, focus and determination, skills no less valuable today. In learning choreography, I became analytical, searching for meaning in movement just as words convey feelings in poetry. I could communicate with the last row of any arena through pacing, cadence and rhythm. Ballet was my unconventional prerequisite for political debate, journalism and Shakespeare. When I joined Junior State of America (JSA) the gavel on the podium became my siren as Madam’s stick upon the hardwood. In JSA the theatre is a convention center and the audience is fi lled with constituents. My instrument is now my voice and the message my im-provisation. In dance, I learned to move in unison with partners, excellent preparation for diplomacy. I play to the back rows to use the skills Madam taught to inspire others to collaborate as a unifi ed corps.

While I have succumbed to the lures of the newspaper, JSA and Shake-speare with satisfaction and fulfi llment, I still think of Madam’s stick and her lessons that have served me well in all my pursuits. As I stride confidently to the front of the ballroom to open debate conventions, whether in Boston, Stamford or Washington, D.C., I can still hear Madam reminding me, “Shoulders down. Chin up. Project!”

One of the strengths of Samantha’s essay is the story. She shares the tale of her celebrated selection to the School of American Ballet, her rise as a dancer and her horrifi c fall. And after all of this, she explains what she has learned from the experience. Who wouldn’t be moved by her experience? But even if you haven’t had such a traumatic oc-

casion, you can see how it helps to be self-analytical and convey what you have gained from participation in an activity.

The other strength of this essay, and we can’t say this enough for all of you, is the quality of her writing. Samantha creates a vivid illustra-tion of Madam, the celebration after being selected and her resulting experience in JSA. She picks and chooses just the right details to share without overloading the essay with unnecessary descriptions. A good writer is economical with words—using only those that are absolutely essential to the story. This is especially true with the limited space of a college admission essay.

Donald H. Matsuda, Jr.

Sacramento, California

Even though he knew that his work inside of the classroom was important, Donald placed a high priority on his contributions outside the classroom as well. At Jesuit High School, Donald was editor of the newspaper and yearbook, director of counselors at Camp ReCreation, a summer camp for mentally and physically disabled children, and

president of his church’s youth group. He says, “It’s satisfying to see I can make a difference.” Donald plans to obtain M.D. and M.P.H. degrees.

California Boys’ State

Stanford University

My tired eyes managed to slowly glide across the bright paper, struggling to distinguish the fading black type: “You have been distinguished as the top in the junior class...in terms of leadership, character and scholastic ability.” I certainly felt honored to be recognized for my diligence throughout my high school career, although I was uncertain as to what this nomination was for. I continued, my ambivalence apparent by the expression on my face, until I discovered the two words which explained it all: Boys’ State.

I was informed that I would have to be interviewed, the opportunity for me to present the genuine “who I am” as opposed to “what I have done.”

Numerous past achievements are undoubtedly essential in the evaluation of an individual, but as philosopher Ralph Waldo Emerson once sagely observed, “What lies behind us and what lies before us are small matters compared to what lies within us.”

Once the interviews were completed and our records were reviewed (there were three other candidates who were nominated), the only thing left to do was wait. (This is, other than attending to the rigors of our engaged high school lives.) I was soon informed that I would represent Jesuit High School at California Boys’ State. I was ecstatic! I have always been eager to pursue and gain experience in any fi eld of knowledge. Thus this opportunity was very intellectually promising. Nonetheless, my stay at Boys’ State was not at all as I had anticipated it to be.

The week commenced rather quickly as all of the delegates nervously arrived from various areas of California, most having adjusted to dormi-tory-style living within a matter of hours. All of the boys, divided into more productive groups termed “cities,” gradually united to build their own municipal governments. I spent the fi rst few hours frantically studying for the afternoon bar examination, which ultimately deemed me profi cient to practice law. Once the tension from the examination slowly dissipated, I was able to spend a considerable amount of time acquainting myself with some of the most outstanding fellow leaders in the state. This, undoubtedly, was one of the most remarkable aspects of Boys’ State. I was given the opportunity to meet these talented scholars and to learn about their academic and personal lives. I imagined it to be somewhat similar to orientation week at a very prestigious university (such as Stanford), for the most brilliant minds and talents convened on one campus. Each individual strove for the best but was always primed to work with others for the betterment of our city. This was unlike anything I had ever experienced at the high school level, and I must admit, it was wonderfully refreshing. Nevertheless, socializing with others was only a minor aspect of the complete experience.

We were faced with numerous challenges of establishing effi cient city and county governments, building successful political campaigns and presenting speeches.

Eight days passed more rapidly than the fl eeting days of summer. Nevertheless, I felt that we, as a city, worked hard to accomplish all that we possibly could in one week. The opportunities that I was afforded (my election to the treasurer position, actively participating in running our city government and receiving the Most Outstanding Model City Award) were accomplishments that were achieved through the efforts of everyone in our city. The teamwork was absolutely remarkable. I will treasure the moments which were spent sharing knowledge, ideas and experiences with my roommates.

It was incredible that, within a short period of time, our city of 40 strangers had bonded so beautifully and developed friendships for life.

Although Boys’ State was an intensive week of practical political science, it offered so much more than just training for a life of playing “the power game,” as author Hedrick Smith termed it. I gained a wealth of new knowledge about government and effi ciency, countless friendships and, most importantly, a newfound outlook on life. While it seems incomprehensible that eight days could make such a profound difference in one’s life, I now believe it can. I did not just come away from my stay as a wellinformed United States citizen. I feel that I emerged a leader, ready and willing to take the invaluable experiences of Boys’ State and make a contribution to my high school, my community and my prospective college. I am now able to appreciate the importance of the qualities which constitute a true leader—responsibility, charisma, effi ciency and, most importantly, honesty. My one week was well spent in that I also experienced a taste of what college is about: learning from textbooks, professors, friends, roommates and experience.

It would be an understatement to refl ect upon this week as an “experience of a lifetime” because it was so signifi cant to me. It was an experience that was beyond my expectations and one which I will certainly continue to build upon.

When writing about an experience, it’s important to not only tell what happened but to explain its effect on you. Donald conveys a clear picture of the hectic week that he spent at Boys’ State, but he also interprets the lessons he learned about leadership and political science during the time. More important than what he did is what he gained from the experience.

For this type of essay, it’s important to remember to explain what you have discovered. The lesson doesn’t have to reveal the “secret of life.” It can be something small that you had not realized before.

Using specifi c incidents is also helpful. You don’t have to be able to write complex prose to create a good essay. Simply having an eye for detail and presenting your thesis in a clear, uncluttered style can yield a successful essay.

Kathleen C. Degen

Narberth, Pennsylvania

When she was writing her application essays, Kathleen knew that her strong academic record could speak for itself. She wanted to show the colleges another side of her. “I tried to write about things that were truly important to me in hopes of giving the admission offi cers a feel for what I was like outside of my grades and test scores,” she says. Kathleen was the captain of the varsity squash and crew teams and participated in theatre and the literary magazine at the Episcopal Academy.

On the Water

Princeton University

In the words of a former teammate, “Crew teaches you to fi nd your limits and then surpass them.” There is no better feeling than fi nishing a 60-minute piece weary, exhausted and totally drained of energy knowing that you and your teammates have put your absolute all and more into it. The sport often entails early practices, late practices, long practices, hot weather, cold weather, blistered hands and general discomfort. Nevertheless, when you feel like you could not possibly force your legs up the slide one more time, the eventual goal of making that next piece or next race that much better pushes you to keep going and take another stroke.

Crew has also been one of the most humbling and rewarding experiences for me. I began the sport knowing virtually nothing about it. I now have a profound sense of what it is like to work towards a common goal with a group of people and, in the process, develop meaningful friendships. I have learned that it is impossible to succeed if all eight rowers do not work together. There are no stars. Unless the rowers think of themselves as one boat as opposed to eight individuals, it is simply not possible to win. It has taught me a life lesson that there is no way one can make it solely on her own and that sometimes it is necessary to seek help and support even when independence is what she may desire.

You often have a very limited space in which to write about an activity.

Yet, Kathleen effectively describes why she has a passion for crew and what she has gained from the experience. She allows the admission offi cers to get inside her head to understand her motivations. When writing a short essay about an activity, it’s critical to select a specifi c aspect. Don’t try to cover all 12 reasons why you enjoy crew. Instead, zero in on one or two that are the most important. This will allow you, as Kathleen has done, to write a meaningful essay using only a couple of paragraphs.

Michelle Lloyd

Dallas, Texas

There are a few things about Michelle that might surprise you. You probably wouldn’t expect someone who is passionate about electrical engineering to also be enthused by piano, dance and poetry. But Michelle has talents in these disparate areas. A graduate of The Hockaday School, she was a National Merit Scholar and perhaps even more signifi cantly actually enjoyed writing her essay. She says, “I think it is a valuable exercise to sift back through your own personal experiences and see how they have affected who you are and what you want to become.” She may work in engineering, linguistics or academia.

Gordito

Rice University

“¡Gordito! ¡Gordito!” they teased as he jumped rope, but Ivan did not seem to mind being called chubby because he continued to enjoy himself and the company of the other children in the parking lot. His not-so-white shirt has a little tear and some dirt smudged on it, but he blended in with the other children playing at our Backyard Bible Club. Some, like Ivan, had worn the same outfi t each day that our choir had come to the apartment complexes with our games, crafts, songs and stories. As part of our mission trip to Mexico City, we wanted to reach out to the hurting, impoverished children by spending three days with them sharing the love of Jesus Christ.

I did not notice Ivan right away. Instead, on the fi rst day, I saw the little girl with the faded blue and red ribbons on her dress sitting by herself, and I saw little Diego who could t h row a Frisbee even though he was only 3. Out of the confusion of over 100 children playing, Dwain, one of our sponsors, approached me with four 9-year-old boys tagging along. They were asking for regalas, gifts, meaning that they wanted “Eternity Bracelets.”

These were bead bracelets each member of our choir made to give to the children as an explanation of the salvation Jesus offers us. While I retrieved my bracelets from the bus, Dwain led Ivan, Eduardo, Cristiano and Mar-cos away from the ruckus, and we all sat down beyond the bus so I could explain what the colors of the beads meant.

The boys listened, some more attentively than others, while I decoded the colors: black represents sin; red stands for Jesus’ blood; white is the purifi cation He brings; blue means baptism, a sign of one’s decision to follow Christ; green is the growth of one’s relationship with Christ; and gold reminds believers they will go to heaven when they die. Dwain had me ask the boys if they understood everything and wanted to let Jesus enter their hearts. “Si, lo quiero,” they said. I led them in prayer to the Holy Father, “Santo Padre, quiero recibir a Jesus en mi corazon.” “Santo Padre, quiero recibir a Jesus en mi corazon,” they repeated in better Spanish than I had used. I will never forget how God used me to benefi t the eternal future of those young boys.

On the second or third day of our Backyard Bible Club, Ivan brought me some children who did not have bracelets. I gave them bracelets but did not have to explain the colors because Ivan stayed to share what he knew about Jesus. Ivan’s enthusiasm was contagious. Instead of worrying about being teased while jumping rope, his new-found, eternal perspective was evident as he shared the story of Jesus with his friends.

Some students are afraid to write about religion since they worry the reader may be of a different faith—or may have no faith at all. Admission offi cers are professionals and while each has his or her own personal views about religion, none would deny that religion can be an important infl uence. Religion is, therefore, a perfectly acceptable topic. However, what admission offi cers do not like is an essay that is preachy. You are not trying to convert them or convince them of the superiority of your religion over others. Nobody wants to be told what to believe. But as long as you stay away from this pitfall you can write a perfectly good essay about your religious faith.

In this essay, Michelle presents a nice vignette of the Backyard Bible Club. After reading her essay, the admission offi cers could probably envision the chaos of the children playing, the small group huddled around Michelle to learn the signifi cance of the bracelets and her satisfaction from knowing that she has helped them. But notice that

she is neither preachy nor judgmental about her religion. Instead, she describes her involvement as she would any other important extracurricular activity. She is selective about what she writes about and takes the time to dissect this single experience rather than attempt to cover her entire experience with the church. This ability to focus is important for any essay regardless of topic.

Lindsay Hyde

Miami, Florida

It takes a lot of courage for a high school student to pitch an idea to a top executive of a multi-billion dollar company. But this is exactly what Lindsay did, requesting funding from a vice president of Burger King for the Organ Donor Project she started. Her bravery was rewarded. She received the donation and then wrote and produced an informational video and educational curriculum to teach students at 12 U.S. schools and fi ve international schools about organ donation.

The graduate of Southwest Miami High School won numerous awards for her volunteerism, including the JC Penney Youth Volunteerism Award, National Coca-Cola Scholar award and Seventeen Magazine Youth Volunteer Award.

Organ Donor Project

Harvard University

It was still dark when I arrived early that morning at the Doral Golf Resort for the Pro-Am division of the Doral -Ryder Open golf tournament. As a member of the newly formed Southwest Miami High School girl’s golf team, I had been presented with the opportunity to volunteer as a caddy at the tournament.

After checking in at the caddy shack, each volunteer was assigned a number and placed on a list. As the golfers arrived requesting caddies, the numbers would be called and the caddies assigned.

Finally, my number was announced. I reported to the check-in station and found that I had been assigned to Jim Watkins, a tall, well-dressed man carrying a seemingly enormous leather golf bag with a red and yellow Burger King logo emblazoned on the front. When I fi nally built up the nerve to lift the bag, I was as surprised as he that I was a b le to shoulder it.

The 18-hole, four-hour walk had seemed menacing before. Now, with the weight of drivers, putters, wedges and irons teetering on my shoulder, the Blue Monster seemed ready to swallow me whole.

During the tournament Mr. Watkins questioned me about school and my involvement in extracurricular activities. He was particularly interested in the community service project I founded and coordinated, The Organ Donor Project. As the day continued, I explained my motivation for creating the project, describing my grandmother’s dual corneal transplant and my belief in the need for more accurate, teen-oriented organ donation information. I spoke about the three-day organ donation education event that I was in the process of planning and the tremendous outpouring of community support the Project already had received.

As we approached the 18th hole, the weight of the bag burning into my shoulder, the hot Florida summertime sun searing my cheeks, an idea began to form. From the very beginning of the Organ Donor Project, I had wanted to create an informational video that could be used within middle and high schools to dispel common teenage myths and misconceptions surrounding organ donation. Perhaps, I thought to myself as each member of the golf foursome putted his way to the end of the tournament, Burger King Corporation would be willing to sponsor the creation of such a video.

Walking off the course and back toward the caddy shack I was sure this was a risk worth taking. I held my head as high as I could, while crouching under the gargantuan bag, and looked straight ahead with confi dence.

I was going to ask him about my idea, and I knew without a doubt he would be ready and willing to move forward with my plan.

This confi dence, however, quickly faded when we fi nally arrived at the caddy shack and my golfi ng partner was preparing to leave. I was no longer at all sure that this man with the painfully heavy golf clubs whom I had known for only four hours would be willing to listen to the fanciful ideas of a 16-year-old girl. Nerves had set in. But, as he turned to leave, I had the poignant realization that if I did not take this chance I would be tormented with thoughts of what might have happened and what I could have done.

Clearing my throat, I stepped forward and began to speak.

As quickly as I could, I outlined my idea for the informational video and asked whether it would be possible for him to put me in contact with an individual at Burger King who would be able to authorize such a project.

Using an undersized golf pencil, given to him to keep score during his game, he scribbled his name and contact information on a small slip of paper.

“Why don’t you put together a proposal on your video and fax it to me. I’ll take a look at it,” he said and then strode into the resort. I could hardly believe what I had heard and quickly looked down at the makeshift business card to be sure. There it said, “Burger King, Vice President.”

Nearly one year to the day later I received 250 copies of what became The Organ Donor Project “Fact or Fiction” video.

It amazes me how profoundly that one risk impacted my life. As a result of only 60 seconds of adrenaline and heart-pounding excitement, I have had experiences I may have never had access to otherwise. Though the actual completion of the video took only one year, the knowledge and skills I have gained as a result will last me a lifetime.

That morning it seemed as though the massive bag and the monstrous course were prepared to crush me. Instead, I emerged from the day only tired, slightly sunburned and completely elated. As a result, I realized the importance of stepping up, digging deep and taking the risks that may truly make a difference.

By receiving corporate sponsorship and creating an educational curriculum adopted by a dozen schools, Lindsay accomplished something that is quite extraordinary. If you have an amazing accomplishment like this you should defi nitely use your essay to highlight it. Imagine if Lindsay just listed the Organ Donor Project on her application and wrote about her love of tennis.

When it comes to impressive accomplishments, the essay is the best place to give the admission offi cers insight into what you have done.

But even though Lindsay’s accomplishment is impressive, she does not turn her essay into a brag session and neither should you. She uses her essay to explain what she has done and some of the risks that she took to do so. Whether you have accomplished something on a national level or neighborhood level, it’s important to convey the signifi cance in your essay. What challenges did you need to overcome? How were you motivated? What is the impact of your efforts? Let the facts and your work speak for themselves.

Alyssa Hochman

Virginia Beach, Virginia

A typical day for Alyssa began before 4 a.m., when she would rise to make it to the pool for swim practice. Her motivation for rising soon after other students went to bed? Simply put, she loves swimming, and in this essay, she explains her love. At Cape Henry Collegiate School, she also participated in student government. About writing her essay, she says, “I took personal events from my life and portrayed myself through the stories.”

The Morning Ritual

Dartmouth College

Bewildered, I wake to the deafening sound of the latest pop song playing on my alarm-clock radio. I have learned that this is the only way to wake up at 3:57 in the morning. Quickly, I feel for the oval-shaped button, ending the music that I am sure will wake up my sister, fast asleep in the next room. I go through my early-morning ritual and quietly creep down the stairs, aided by the light of the moon. I grab my bag, packed the night before, and quietly shut the door behind me. I step outside and breathe in the salty morning air. I turn the key in the ignition, knowing that this is my last chance to run back to the comfort of my bed. Instead, I carefully drive the 21 miles to practice, forcing myself to keep my eyes open. The parking lot contains the cars of my fellow teammates. I pull in and am relieved to see that my coach has not yet arrived. I can enjoy a few precious minutes of sleep. Every morning we take part in the same unspoken ritual: arriving to practice early and sleeping in the warmth of our cars. The headlights of a small red car shine on my face as it pulls into the parking lot—the sign that my day has truly begun.

I walk onto the pool deck. The lights are just beginning to come on and the water is still. The powerful yet comforting smell of chlorine fi lls the air. Wearing our pajamas and parkas, we sleepily walk into our respective locker rooms. The fl oor is cold against my bare feet. I pull on my size 28 swimsuit—the same size suit I wore when I was 10. It is not that I haven’t grown since then—quite the contrary; I am now 5 foot 10. A swimmer’s body becomes accustomed to the tight lycra, which has now become my second skin. I step out onto the silent pool deck, water bottle in hand, and tell myself I can conquer any challenge my coach has contrived. He loves to try and defeat us mentally before we even take a stroke in the water, but I do not let him have that satisfaction. My cap is on, my goggles are tight, as I dive into the pool, breaking the calmness of the water.

One of my best friends wrote in my yearbook, “I can’t believe you get up at 4 in the morning to swim. You’re a nut.” I am often asked why I swim. My answer is simple. I swim because I love it; it is who I am. I love being faced with a challenge and enjoy the satisfaction I feel when I have conquered my goal. Perhaps my friend is right. Maybe I am “a nut,” but I am not alone; I have my teammates. When I enter the pool deck, I enter a place where I am content and fulfi lled. There is no need to explain why I am at practice; my teammates and I share a bond, an understanding. It takes hard work and dedication, but as Jimmy Dugon said in A League of Their Own, “It’s supposed to be hard. If it wasn’t hard, everyone would do it. The hard is what makes it great.”

Alyssa answers one of the most important questions that admission offi cers ask when reading any essay: “Why?” Why would she wake up at such an ungodly hour to swim? Why is swimming so important to her? By describing her morning ritual, the admission offi cers begin to understand the value of early-morning camaraderie, the dread and

excitement felt at the fi rst sight of her coach and the satisfaction of having accomplished so much before most other students have even awoken.

Obviously, Alyssa could have written about actual swim competitions or medals that she has won. But this would not be original. Think of the thousands of other athletes applying to college who will be writing about the “big game” and how after courageous effort they overcame the odds and won. Instead, Alyssa focuses on something far more important and signifi cant, her motivation for swimming. We learn much more about Alyssa as a person (and are totally impressed by her commitment) than if she had just described which races she won. And even if we would not do so ourselves we can certainly understand why she gets up so early in the morning.

Shashank Bengali

Cerritos, California

Shashank is the kind of person who is not afraid of standing out. So even though most of his classmates did not join the Boy Scouts, he did. Through the organization, he learned valuable lessons not only about conquering the outdoors but also about looking inside himself.

At Whitney High School, Shashank was the editor of the newspaper, student mentoring program volunteer and president of the Indian student organization. He won the Knight Ridder Minority Journalism Scholarship and Trustee Scholarship, providing a full tuition scholarship to attend USC.

The Gang

University of Southern California

I’m in a gang.

We’re not a small group; this gang spans the entire nation, with offshoots in 116 countries around the world. The members of my gang are devoted and live their lives based on a code of conduct to which they are forever sworn. We will never all meet, but we all share the same beliefs and ideals.

The members of this brotherhood have faced ignorant peers. We are told that our gang is just a club of immature boys whose members are weak and frail. Despite our profi ciency with knives and clubs, our honed survival skills and our keen practical knowledge, we are told we can’t hold our own. Our structured lifestyle is labeled outmoded and impractical. We are the butt of jokes and taunts, of stares and pointing fi ngers, of relentless questions and unsatisfactory answers. Life is diffi cult but immeasurably rewarding.

We’ve been told to get out, to leave this gang and fi nd a new set of friends and a new way of life. For all but a few, this pressure is too much to endure.

In six years worth a lifetime, the Boy Scouts of America has shaped my personal dogma. I have learned the value of friendship, truth, community and adherence to a moral code that I have found to be second to none.

Scouts are partners in a personal stand against the general dumbing-down of moral values. “Sanctimony!” is often cried, but in truth, the fundamental tenets of truth and honor are perennially evident, and charity is never far from the hearts of members.

Cold winter mornings serving breakfast to the homeless, hot summer days repairing mountain trails in the Sierra Nevada and many an evening volunteering at local hospitals and churches have imparted to me a feeling of community, which I now fulfi ll as a volunteer at the local senior citizens center. Service has become an integral part of my life, and I feel greater compassion for those less fortunate, blessed as I am with such a rich environment in which to mature. I derived pleasure from working with mentally handicapped adults at the Association for Retarded Citizens and from organizing a charity drive for tenants of a local halfway house. Community service has helped me see life through different perspectives.

I have learned about leadership. I supervised 31 volunteers in the renovation of a park picnic shelter, a project I had designed myself. I was very gratifi ed with the success of the job, but surprisingly, much more valuable than the praise I received was the heightened sense of confi dence I developed. I was driven to seek more leadership roles to employ the practical skills I learned as a Boy Scout. Serving at the helm of two major campus organizations, the school newspaper and the Indian Club, could not have been possible for me had I not been somewhat seasoned as a leader and as a person. I came into these positions knowing how to deal effectively with people, how to manage crisis situations and how to work within a system to achieve the goals of an organization. I know what is required of a leader.

In the past, I might have shrugged off my duties in positions of authority and thought nothing of it; now, I take my responsibilities seriously, often to the extent that they consume me.

Who I am today, the actions I take and the decisions I make all stem, whole or part, from what I have learned as a Boy Scout. Of course, I enjoy the camping, hiking and rock climbing and I am proud to be called an Eagle Scout, but these are fi nite destinations in a longer journey, and they pale in comparison to the lessons and the richness of the trip. I began as a wideeyed 12-year-old, both ingenuous and insensitive about the world at large.

Now I am poised to enter college, confi dent, equipped with real-world experiences and ready to take on new challenges. Such are the perks of life in this gang.

Writing about a common extracurricular club like the Boy Scouts requires a lot of extra planning. Shashank needed to approach his involvement in a way that other students would not. He accomplishes

this by using a creative introduction that grabs attention and piques interest. That done, he presents his scouting experience in a way that distinguishes him from other scout applicants. He does this by focusing on specifi cs. Sure, many scouts will write about learning how to be trustworthy, loyal and kind but few will take the time to focus on the details and go beyond the what they learn and try to explain why it’s important to them. Notice how Shashank provides explanations for what he gets out of community service and leading others. Even if the admission offi cers read 100 essays on scouting, Shashank’s essay would still stand out.

Jeff Bozman

Hampton Roads, Virginia

Jeff might have taken it as a bad omen when he lost his voice the day of his Princeton interview. But with a good-spirited interviewer who supplied him with mugs of soothing hot chocolate, he successfully made it through. He says that the inspiration for his application essay came from the dean of admission, who advised him to focus on the essay. A graduate of Norfolk Collegiate School, Jeff participated in swimming, wrote for the school newspaper and became a National Merit Scholar.

He would like to work in diplomacy or international business.

The 20 Other Points

Princeton University

“He got a 1580, but he’s the dumbest kid I know.” “Thanks, Steve,” I reply. Steve is my swim coach, and he decided to use this comment to break the ice at a 5:30 a.m. swim practice in Raleigh, North Carolina. Or maybe it was Goldsboro? Or Chapel Hill? I can’t remember. He was introducing me—complete with my dubious superlative—to the coach of a swim team with whom we were training. Our team was in the middle of a week-long “training trip,” Steve’s euphemistic term for dragging 30 swimmers across the state on a pool-hopping death march. We averaged fi ve miles at each of our three practices per day. There were no breaks, no recovery periods and no easy practices. To an outsider, we must seem psychotic to get wrapped up in this cultish little ritual. We are. But nevertheless we are human beings and we needed something to get us through that week of Hell. Eventually I began to realize that my position as “village idiot” might give me both the opportunity to learn some lessons about human nature and the ability to help my teammates through some very trying times.

After I received my SAT scores a few weeks before, I had tried to tell the smallest number of people as possible. I’ve always been humble about my successes, and something of this magnitude would probably draw more resentment than admiration from my peers. So when Steve asked me how I did, I told him privately. He was proud, but as I was walking away, he asked (shouted, actually), “WHAT HAPPENED TO THE OTHER 20 POINTS?” Some of the replies that followed were: “What 20 points?” “What’s he talking about?” “You mean you got an 80 on a test?!” After my explanations, I made a decision. I would transform myself into a harmless, clueless idiot Chapter 7: 57 Successful Admission Essays savant and make the SATs look like a fl uke. Following the examples of Lu-cille Ball and Art Carney, I gradually started to ask ditzy questions, trip and fall in the pool and don the infamous “deer in the headlights” look when things became complicated. Eventually my acting began to take hold; my stupidity never failed to break tension and the 1580 became a joke rather than a grade.

The training trip provided a unique opportunity to put my act to good use. Since he conceived of the idea, Steve has always fashioned the trip to be as much a test of emotional mettle as one of physical endurance. It always takes place in the few days right after Christmas, so the frigid (yet somehow never snowy) weather and even more frigid temperaments can play symphonic havoc with our emotions. By the end of the second day, I recognized that mood swings, bickering and short tempers were already starting to affect everyone’s ability to perform; no one wanted to climb out from under their blankets and parkas to go swim, and consequently the swims were miserable, clock-watching marathons. So I began the sideshow entertainment. Eventually the collective mood began to brighten, people started to laugh and the last leg of the trip turned out to be one of the most hysterically happy moments of the entire week. Were we slap-happy?

Probably. But no one there would ever deny the positive infl uence of laughter both on our swimming and on our relationships.

The training trip wasn’t just a bunch of practices, nor was it an experiment in behavioral psychology. It was a blessing in disguise that taught me a great deal about myself. I learned that laughter is one of the best ways to defuse confl ict and that I’m willing to generate it even at my own expense.

Had I not, I never would have created my slapstick alter-ego, and the training trip probably would have resulted in one or two suicides. So you may very well laugh at me, thinking I’m “the dumbest kid you’ve ever met,”

but rest assured I’m laughing along with you. I’m bright enough to know what I’m doing; I DID get a 1580, after all! But let’s keep that information quiet—I don’t want to seem like a braggart.

Jeff does many things in this essay. First, he is not ashamed to admit that he plays the “village idiot” on his swim team. This ability to be self-deprecating is an admirable quality and displays a certain level of self-awareness and self-confi dence. Next, Jeff makes us privy to a secret: this perception people have of him is based on a deliberate act. He is really exposing his inner self to us—total strangers. Third, Jeff includes concise examples and descriptions to show us how this “act” helped to transform what may have been an unhappy experience into one no one will ever forget. Our overall impression of Jeff is that he is a brilliant young man who understands himself and the psychology of his

teammates—which of course is exactly what Jeff hopes we see.

Even though Jeff’s essay is ostensibly about his involvement with swimming it really is a thoughtful portrait of his own psychology and intellect. Again, this is always the underlying purpose of the admission essay—to share with the colleges a slice of your life and to let them know who you are beyond your grades and test scores.