Undergraduate / Maybe the Christians are right. Or the Muslims. Or the Buddhists. - Stanford [9]

I was wondering if this essay even fit the prompt...
Prompt is:
Stanford students are widely known to possess a sense of intellectual vitality. Tell us about an idea or an experience you have had that you find intellectually engaging.

In this day and age, religion and emotional aspects of life are given a backseat to logic and scientific discovery. Science constitutes law. Why is the sky blue? The shorter wavelengths are scattered throughout the earth's atmosphere. Why are there millions of species, despite similarity in environment and genetic makeup? Biodiversity is promoted due to changing circumstances. Although these answers may be valid truths, I find it difficult to believe that emotions arise solely due to the activities of the amygdala, and that the behaviors of human kind are largely results of animalistic, basic needs. Of course, science is not completely bogus. It contributes to the rapid rate of progress in medicine and technology. I simply view science as one in many approaches to understand and define life. There is only so much science can explain, and even then science can be erroneous. Can pheromones be the true reason why one is attracted to another, and can a mother's sacrifice for her children be explained as simply a behavior to propel the survival of a species? What about coincidences? They occur, against all odds. What are the chances of finding a caravan delivering olive-topped pizza to my very doorstep this Thursday morning, at 3:00 AM? Not likely, but it could happen. This thwarting of science is fascinating. It proves that though science can provide explanations for physical phenomenon, it can never encompass all of reality. Perhaps life does exist beyond the grave. Maybe the Christians are right. Or perhaps the Muslims. Or the Buddhists. We can never know, and we should be thankful. Who in the world wants to be a complete know-it-all?

All help is appreciated! Please let me know if this even fits the prompt...

Undergraduate / trivial video game - Pomona supplement-What I do for fun [4]

I feel like this essay is not long enough. There is no word limit. Please let me know what you think!

Although it may appear to the contrary, we do know that people have a life beyond what they do to get into college. Tell us about an experience you have had outside of your formal classroom and extracurricular activities that was just plain fun and why.

The rapid tempo was the devil to keep up with. My palms slowly accumulated sweat and my quadriceps were becoming excruciatingly sore from pumping up and down on the pedal. My left hand relentlessly tapped the hi-hat cymbals, while my right tried to perform the complex solo that was so crucial to the overall success of the song. Madison's fingers moved rapidly on her guitar, Joanna on the base, and Leslie wailed the lyrics of Livin' on a Prayer, a Bon Jovi song. Our band, Snuggle Cyberspace, was on its way to fame and rock band legend. We had extended our influence to San Francisco, Los Angeles, and even London and Dublin. Ok, ok, I admit we are not actually a band. We were just playing our fifth hour of Rock Band on my friend's Xbox. Though we were all red eyed and weary, our band was known for its resilience. The objective of the game was to survive through the song without missing too many of the multicolored notes approaching the bottom of the screen. At last, after our sixth attempt, Snuggle Cyberspace finally completed the tourïgaining thousands of new virtual fans. One might ask, why did we waste hours on this seemingly trivial video game? It gave us an opportunity for our imagination to expand into unreachable horizons. Truthfully speaking, what are my chances of mastering the drums and actually touring Europe with a newly pierced navel? Almost nada. Hence, rocking out to tunes in a virtual underground music contest is a refreshing, feasible breath of air for a rather non-punk girl equipped only with the ability to dream big.

Undergraduate / Drawing and painting - MIT pleasure essay [9]

We know you lead a busy life, full of activities, many of which are required of you. Tell us about something you do for the pleasure of it. (*)(100 words or fewer)

A line dragged on the surface of a fresh sheet of bleached paper appears just that-a scrawny etching of graphite on paper. If this is true, then why does it look so elegant, as if it is its own person? It begins tentatively but builds in resolve and finally fades with grace. Yet, even with its inherent beauty, it seems lonely. So I add other lines and brilliant acrylic mixes, until an entirely separate entity-a mango, perhaps, or a blue eye-peeks up at a surprised artist. An hour is a second, when lost in shape and color.

My friend thought I should take a more direct approach. She thought this was too abstract.

Please leave opinions! and grammar help is appreciated.

Undergraduate / "My interest lies in science" - MIT World I come from [3]

Describe the world you come from; for example, your family, clubs,school,community,city, or town. How has that world shaped your dreams and aspirations?(*) (200-250 words)

The daily hours of imprisonment were over. Discarding my backpack in the apartment, I ran outside, dirty tennis shoes squeaking on neat walkway. Temperature: warm; breezy. All seemed to be in order, and the afternoon spanned out before me. Perhaps I would visit the turtles in the botanical garden nearby for the fourth time that week. The dorms of the Claremont School of Theology were certainly a bleak prospect for children with its whitewashed walls and patchy expanses of grass. Suddenly, I heard a voice calling for me. "Jenny! See what Julie found!" Grace and I ran to a ladder leading to the roof of the apartment. "There's a bird nest on that ledge, right at the top!" I found myself staring into a nest housing blue speckled eggs. I had entered into the hidden life of a bird. Curiosity burning, I returned to the nest later, only to find the eggs missing. The other children had dropped them, in the midst of stealing them. This accident sparked indignation in me. The kids moved on with their lives, but I came away with a sense of responsibility. Those speckled eggs represent what people have destroyed-are in the process of destroying. My interest lies in science, where I might possibly reverse previous damage on ecosystems and aquatic habitats. But this does not mean I cannot extend my influence to change the attitudes of fellow people. In other words, convince them to treasure the few blue speckled eggs we have left.

Any help is appreciated! Especially grammar help.

Suspended for ignoring the thread title creation rules.

EF

Undergraduate / Common App Essay: "Franny and Zooey" [5]

Describe a character in fiction, a historical figure, or a creative work (as in art, music, science, etc.) that has had an influence on you, and explain that influence.

It is probably strange to say that I am in love with a fictional character. Yet, I declare my affection for Zooey Glass without reservation, because this character drastically altered my perspective of the world. I first encountered Zooey while reading J.D. Salinger's novel, Franny and Zooey. Initially, I struggled with the text. The overabundance of symbols and allusions were enough to drive me up the wall. However, as I came to understand the Glass family, their tragedies, and their healing, I was, in a way, healed myself. I recognized myself in the sarcastic and bitter actor Zooey, and he helped me come to terms with my inner calamity. Although I was not blessed with intellectual and spiritual genius, I was a Glass. I was just as fragile and easily bruised as the Glass children were. But Zooey overcame his afflictions, and even had time to save me along the way.

Truthfully speaking, Zooey is far from the ideal hero. Being an antisocial prodigy in his twenties, he lives with his parents in a cluttered apartment. Though he is a handsome actor with a vast library of spiritual knowledge, his book expertise does not imply that he possesses wisdom. Rather, Zooey's attitude is portrayed as irrational and childish. Zooey sets impossibly high standards not only of artistic work but also of people. Thus, he is disappointed more often than not, with his job and with his family. When unsatisfied, he isolates himself from society by taking long baths and by repelling others through use of cruel remarks. When I was introduced to the unreformed Zooey, I was unaware of how similar we actually were. Although I had a friendlier disposition than the sarcastic, inconsiderate Zooey, I, too, was a hopeless idealist. Whereas Zooey had been occupied with the image of an ideal person, I had nurtured the image of an ideal life. I had it all planned out. I would live long and travel to my heart's content.

Volunteering at Pomerado Hospital was a part of my "plan", but after several weeks the future became blurred and uncertain. In the ward for long term residents, many patients were restricted to their beds and several were unable to speak or look straight. The building had the familiar nauseating hospital odor, but also reeked of stale urine. As I played bingo, went from room to room for visits, and wheeled around patients, I gained snippets of insight into their lives. One woman had fallen in love with her late husband when she was a young nurse; another had been a model in the prime of her life. The other volunteers and I enjoyed visiting a particular patient. She was a tiny woman of ninety-six years and she lay between her white sheets in a room covered with butterfly décor. We chatted about everything from her high school prom to her methods for keeping flowers fresh.

But on an afternoon like any other, the other volunteers and I were greeted with disturbing screams resounding from Station D. The same woman lay in a stretcher, demanding to see her son. She was unable to recognize me and had forgotten that Villa Pomerado had been her home for years. A stroke had led to memory loss. This woman, and countless others, each had their separate, intricate histories. They had loved, they had taken risks, and they had dreamed and aspired. But did they know they would fall ill? Had they accomplished their dreams in time? Time flies with age, and life's unpredictability only cuts the time spent alive. Here I was, struggling to go to a top college, while juggling my extracurricular activities, social life, and time reserved for sleep. But did it really matter? All it takes is a tragic car accident for me to lose the ability to use my legs, or simply old age for me to be restricted to my bed. I was suddenly faced with my vulnerability and the loss of an idealistic viewpoint on life. How much time was there, really, to pick up French, ride a hot air balloon, and write a novel? Upset by this realization, I withdrew. I withdrew from my religion, from my family, and from the wild imagination that usually filled my head.

Thankfully, Franny and Zooey had a therapeutic effect on me. In an attempt to bring his younger sister, Franny, out of a spiritual crisis, Zooey finally discovers the unhealthy impact his idealism has on his life. He repeats what his older brother told him years ago: "a man should be able to lie at the bottom of a hill with his throat cut, slowly bleeding to death, and if a pretty girl or an old woman should pass by with a beautiful jug on the top of her head, he should be able to raise himself up on one arm and see the jug safely over the top of the hill" (Salinger). Even in the worst of situations, I must recognize beauty when it is present. I know that someday, my legs will be too frail for me to stand up. But this does not mean I cannot run and jump in the present, while I still can. When I return to the hospital every Thursday, I no longer dwell upon the sick, frail bodies. Instead, I smile when I drop off mail, tell amusing stories, and water the Healing Garden. Zooey taught me to grow up-not physically, but emotionally. All in all, he taught me to pursue happiness from the smallest of opportunities, instead of waiting for the wildest of dreams to come true.

Undergraduate / What makes Stanford a good place-scientific research and strength in humanities [3]

"Oh my god, Yejin, look over there! Isn't that guy hot?" my mother loudly screeched. I smacked my forehead for the billionth time as my mother gaped at the poor student biking past. Thus began my first encounter with the school that became more than just a brand name, more than my mother's fantasies. During my campus visit, I knew I had an interest in biology, but assumed all top universities to be similar in approach to the field. Upon further research, I found that Stanford exceeded my expectations. The list of faculty is an impressive feat in itself, but I am particularly impressed by Martha Cyert's research on gene expression in yeast cells. Alternate gene expression in response to environmental stress is delightedly in sync with my own research interests. Attempts at bioremediation are often unsuccessful due to the inhospitable conditions in which the organisms are placed, and further understanding of adaptation and gene expression is a possible solution for this roadblock. Stanford's opportunity for research in this particular focus, as well as numerous others, exudes an appeal that is hard to resist.

Of course, I cannot be completely satisfied with the scientific aspect of my education. The humanities retain an intricate bond with my own philosophical musings, making Stanford an ideal place for a student torn between literature and the sciences. I have a firm belief that curiosity should spark answers, no matter what discipline. Woe the day when I am unable to participate in a discussion about Salinger's works. Stanford provides both the liberal arts education I desire and the research opportunity I crave. So, sorry Mom; I neither care for the brand name, nor the "hot boys". I want a lasting relationship with Stanford, one that involves active participation and a constant thirst for understanding.

please be harsh. I need to cut some words and my grammar is lacking. General comments needed as well!

Undergraduate / Brown-Best advice: "Be sexy, confident" [6]

What is the best piece of advice you've ever been given, and why?

"Be sexy", said the boisterous, slightly chubby woman in front of me. Hannah, who sat cross-legged in front of a room filled with high school girls, certainly did not appear sexy to me. Twirling her ponytail, she continued, "And by that I am not telling you to wear low cut shirts and makeup. Being sexy has nothing to with those superficial characteristics, but has everything to do with confidence. Be confident being a woman. Exude the feeling that you know what you are doing, and that you are surefooted in your identity." Now, this was an unfamiliar concept. I was at a church retreat, listening to an unprecedented sex talk from a guest pastor. After discussing rape and sexual impurity, how was I supposed to be glad I was born female? As a woman, I was going to face so much more than the average male-childbirth, a bumpy career, greater insecurity, and physical vulnerability.

Even growing up, being "female" did not hold positive connotations. Traditional Korean culture dictated a male-oriented society. My father was the head of the household and my mother, the meek homemaker. Once married, she gave up her career, and after giving birth to two daughters, she was pressured to have a son, even if it meant enduring her third caesarean section.

The same restrictions applied to me. There were rules, apparently, about what was proper and what was not. For one, I was not allowed on sleepovers. I was the girl whose father picked her up from a birthday party at ten, while everyone else was decorating cookies. My sister and I were expected to set the table, cook, and clean. When my younger brother and I fought, I would be grounded for "psychologically harming" him, although he had used physical violence on me. At a very young age, I was assigned a status of inferiority to males. I vocalized my opinions, but even so, I was never able to fully nurture pride in being a woman. I was constantly met with a "Why try?" attitude in reference to my education. Others overwhelmingly assumed that I would get married and have children. They believed that a job would be unnecessary, as I would depend on my husband and spend the rest of my days cooking and cleaning.

So when Pastor Hannah told me to have confidence, I finally uncovered my most formidable opponent: myself. I had let others assign me a level of importance. Only confidence in my identity will affirm and solidify my aspirations, and only confidence in my abilities will generate success. Life as a woman is certainly difficult, but emerging from adversity battered, but relatively alive, only arms me with greater conviction, a tougher skin. I am going to pursue scientific research, despite the fact that my parents had wanted me to major in an easier field. I am a sexy woman, not because I wear a mini skirt, but because I do not let others limit what I am capable of.

I was wondering if this contradicted my common application essay. In my common application, I wrote about how I had high expectations from my life, and how I discovered that nothing is certain. In my common app I learned that I must stop planning out my life, and enjoy the present.