Serin Ipek Seckin - The applicants

College essays that made a difference - Princeton Review 2010

Serin Ipek Seckin
The applicants

Serin was the science columnist for her school paper, violinist in a musical chamber group, a member of the math team, and taught English in China. She also conducted research work at Columbia-Presbyterian Hospital and is an accomplished pianist, having received a Gold Award at the Rockland County Music Competition.

Stats

SAT: 2260 (720 Critical Reading, 800 Math, 740 Writing)

SAT Subject Test(s): 800 Biology, 770 Chemistry, 740 Math I, 750 Math II

High School GPA: N/A

High School: Saint Ann’s School, Brooklyn, NY

Hometown: Brooklyn, NY

Gender: Female

Race: Caucasian

Applied To

Brown University

Columbia University

Cornell University

Dartmouth College

Harvard University

Johns Hopkins University

Princeton University

Stanford University

Tufts University

University of Chicago

Washington University in St. Louis

Wesleyan University

Williams College

Yale University

Essay

Serin used the following essay in her application to Brown University.

In reading your application we want to get to know you as well as we can. We ask that you use this opportunity to tell us something more about yourself that would help us toward a sense of how you think, and what issues and ideas interest you most. Your statement should not exceed 500 words, and it may be done in your own handwriting or typewritten.

I looked into the microscope and gracefully fumbled around with the tweezers and scissors, attempting to assist my lab mentor tie two arteries together. Although this was only an experimental micro-graft onto a sedated rat’s thigh, the tension and excitement in the lab reminded me of the day I watched an actual laparoscopic surgery, nervously standing behind a surgeon as he carefully operated through a high-resolution monitor on a human being.

I reflected upon the extreme purposefulness and determination I felt during those micro-surgeries. My back might have ached, my eyes might have been sore and weak, but I never even noticed this pain until I came home. For, even though this was just a rat, I felt convinced that success in our experiment might one day translate into the difference between life and death. In fact, I thought of that every morning that summer, when I would begin my workday at the lab by checking the hospital database to see if the many patients I had interviewed for a survey were still alive.

Yet, it was clear to me that my determination was driven not only by my compulsion to help, but also by my compulsion to learn, to know. Why were we harvesting arteries from the thigh? How did the antioxidant drug we were using prevent cell growth? And it struck me what a great coincidence it is that science has turned out to have such an enormous benefit to humanity, since I think we would still pursue it for the sake of knowledge alone. “Curiosity has its own reason for existence.”

A year ago, I wanted to do an independent research project comparing various traits of the ubiquitous New York City subway rats to those of lab-bred rats. The science teachers rejected it. “Too risky” one said. “The school can’t legally house those diseased rats, Serin.” I didn’t let it go that easily-I talked to every biology teacher in the department, but it was a no-go. I confess that I had no motive for this project other than pure curiosity. But in that, I am certainly not alone. For example, the scientists who discovered Thermus Aquaticus, the bacteria that live in coral springs, surely had no idea that their work would one day lead to the discovery of a heat-resistant enzyme now used in Polymerase Chain Reaction machines to solve violent crimes and exonerate innocent “criminals.”

But then, of course, there are the many times when I wished my curiosity hadn’t gotten the better of me, as when I have begged someone to tell me a secret that ended up agonizing me. More significantly, the once divine mysteries of the universe, inexplicable symbols of God’s power, have been diminished somewhat by our knowledge that we know we are merely agents of DNA replication on an insignificant planet wheeling around an insignificant star in a universe destined to collapse upon itself.

I sometimes wonder if we would still pursue science so doggedly if we could prove beyond any doubt (scientifically, of course) that so much knowledge is bad for us. But I do not take that question too seriously. Perhaps science is not incompatible with faith after all.

See this page to find out where this student got in.