College essays that made a difference - Princeton Review 2010
Robyn Rose Schneider
The applicants
During high school, Robyn was twice named Orange County Impromptu Speech champion. She held leadership positions in the French and Drama Clubs, as well as in the Aspiring Authors Society and a humor magazine, The W.C.—both of which she founded. Robyn was also varsity team mascot and house manager for school plays. Outside of school, she donated more than 1,000 books to children’s homes, served as a volunteer library storyteller, and wrote an advice column for the local newspaper.
Before sending out her transfer applications, Robyn signed a book deal with Random House to publish a young adult novel, created a website based on her search for a literary agent, and worked on an anthology of humorous short stories.
Stats
SAT: 1410 (710 Critical Reading, 700 Math)
High School GPA: 3.60
High School: Northwood High School, Irvine, CA
College GPA: 3.75
College attended: Hofstra University Honors College
Hometown: Irvine, CA
Gender: Female
Race: Caucasian
Applied To
Barnard College
Boston University
Brandeis University
Brown University
Harvard College
New York University
Smith College
University of Pennsylvania
University of Southern California
Yale University
Essay
Robyn used the following essay in each of her applications.
There are limitations to what grades, scores, and recommendations can tell us about a candidate. Write a personal essay on a topic of your choice that will help the Admissions Committee to know you better.
The Forbidden Art of The Personal Essay:
A Personal Statement on the Subject of Campus Life, 200-Level Love, and the Pursuit of the Perfect Course Description
243: Art of the Personal Essay seemed like the perfect course. The instructor was Phillip Lopate, that famous essayist. I flipped through the course catalog, positive there had to be something wrong with 243—something I wasn’t catching. After all, Hofstra only offered five creative writing courses, and none of the others encompassed non-fiction. Why was Lopate’s course description so incredible?
I met with my Honors College advisor to sign up for my honors seminars, and he asked me which other courses I was considering. Flipping through the catalog, I pointed out Philosophy and International Economics, then finally showed him Lopate’s course. That’s when I found out what the problem was. Apparently those numbers before the course title actually mean something, because “200” means graduate course. Art of the Personal Essay was officially off-limits to me. My advisor, trying to come up with some consolation, offered that he’d heard of undergraduates being allowed to take graduate courses in special circumstances. I took his words to heart.
A week later, the creative writing department had their annual luncheon. I figured out who Professor Lopate was (he looked the same as he did on all of his book jackets), and went over to introduce myself.
“Hi, Professor. My name is Robyn Schneider and I’d like to sign up for your personal essay writing course, but I’m an undergraduate.”
He stared at me, and then asked the dreaded question, “What year are you?”
“I’m a freshman, but I’ll be a sophomore next semester because of advanced standing.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Would it make any difference,” I persisted doggedly, “if I had a novel forthcoming from Random House and was represented by one of New York’s top literary agents?”
“Well of course. Then the circumstances would be quite different.”
“They’re different,” I told him, trying to convey with my eyebrows that I hadn’t just asked him a hypothetical question.
“Oh, erm, hmmmm.” He scratched his ear. “Okay then, why don’t you submit a writing sample, a ten page personal essay should suffice, to my Hofstra Pride Mail, and I’ll see.” He winked.
“Thanks,” I said.
Fifteen minutes later I was back in my dorm checking my email. An email from my agent read, “I’ve sent your manuscript to be edited by Sally Arteseros; she’s one of the best. She mentioned to me that she edited Art of the Personal Essay by Phillip Lopate, and that you should sit in on one of his classes or at least get in touch with him.”
Fate! It was fate! I sent Lopate my writing sample, mentioned our common editor, and got an email back the next week saying that my writing passed the test and welcome to his course.
I went to the English department to sign up for the course. What followed was a treasure hunt through the different offices, all over campus, to see two different deans, until I was finally told by the Honors College that undergraduate students could never take graduate classes, exactly the opposite of what I’d heard when I learned what 200-level meant. Dejected, I slunk back to my dorm. It was a lost cause. I’d never get to study under Professor Lopate, learn how to write non-fiction properly from an expert, or enjoy the immense satisfaction of being at least five years younger than the other students while still remaining at the top of the class.
My roommate’s friend knocked on the door.
“She’s not here!” I hollered, but he turned the knob anyway.
We talked for a while. It turned out he was taking an independent study in creative writing, which meant he designed the course himself and got credit for a workshop. I asked him how he got that approved and he told me the steps to follow: find a professor to sponsor you, write up a course description, present it to the head of the department. I thanked him and began typing—Personal Essay and Modern Memoir, a course that was made up of Phillip Lopate’s 243 as well as reading works by five modern memoirists, compiling a non-fiction manuscript of my own, and attending a non-fiction venue in New York City each month.
I presented my course to the head of the department and he approved—how could he not? I was offering to do the inexplicable: take on a graduate course as a freshman and then do extra outside work just to get undergraduate credit. It was the most challenging independent study the department had ever seen.
When I told my Honors College advisor what I’d done to get into the graduate course, he just laughed. “That’s the thing about you, Robyn. I never doubted you’d find a way to get what you wanted.”
See this page to find out where this student got in.