Undergraduate / Technically undecided + the "universe" in university + paternal grandfather NYU short [4]

Please tell us what led you to select both your anticipated academic area(s) of study and the NYU school / college / program or the Abu Dhabi campus. What interests you most about your intended discipline? Mention any extracurricular or non-school-related activities or experiences that demonstrate your interest.

Though I'm technically undecided, I can see myself exploring Linguistics, Journalism, and International Relations, among others, at NYU. My forte lies in the humanities: As a member of the school newspaper and the school's literary magazine, I discovered a knack for artfully conveying ideas through the tip of my pen. I love culture, as I'm a Pakistani-American and a part of the World Language Honor Society. NYU would be the perfect place for me to accentuate my understanding of the world.

NYU is 'In and of the City' and 'In and of the World.' What does the concept of a global network university mean to you? How do you think studying in New York City, Abu Dhabi, or one of NYU's global sites would change you as a person and equip you to build cross-cultural relationships at NYU and beyond?

A university would be an oxymoron if it limited itself to one area. NYU most definitely emphasizes the "universe" in university. Above all, that's what I look for in a university. How can a school be taken seriously if it's not open to all types of people? New York City alone is cultural, but nothing can match the web of learning which NYU has built all over the globe. If I were to attend NYU, I would promptly seize the opportunity to study abroad and be a part of a truly universal university.

If you had the opportunity to bring any person -- past or present, fictional or nonfictional -- to a place that is special to you (your hometown or country, a favorite location, etc), who would you bring and why? Tell us what you would share with that person.

My paternal grandfather died in Peshawar, Pakistan the year I was born. All I know of him comes from stories and a small picture. If I could show him New York City, Times Square, and how far the world has come, that the grandson of a small village man can make something of himself in America, I'm sure that would've meant a great deal to him. I'd let him know how much his son (my father) sacrificed to make me what I am, and I hope he'd be proud of where I have reached and where I am going.

Comments on any of these would be greatly appreciated!

Undergraduate / THE RAPPING ICONOCLAST: BROWN SUPPLEMENT (INTELLECTUAL EXPERIENCE) [9]

The Rapping Iconoclast

Yips and yells, ruckus and racket; noise surged through the ring of teenagers standing outside the school. Garbed in heavy hoods and doubtful countenances, they formed an audience around the quiet Pakistani boy. A "Shh!" quelled the tumult. No one knew what to expect. I, the Pakistani boy, the "quiet smart kid", stood center stage for everyone to see. I cleared my throat and said "Drop the beat". Someone near me clasped a fist to their mouth and began to beatbox. My head bobbed, my feet tapped. I allowed myself to flow through the beat like a raft down a river. I spit a fire so heated, lit up the entire street, electrified the beat. I refused to accept defeat, refused to be let torn. I transformed from something diffident to a completely different storm.

Freestyle rapping isn't something I ever expected to do. Raised in a traditional Muslim American family, the art of rap was hardly a concern of my parents. However, I had grown up in a neighborhood where the sounds of characteristically "black" music radiated from the street gravel. I began rapping at age eleven, memorizing lyrics in the shower and before I went to sleep. Rap became a ritualistic pastime. Before I knew it, I began "spitting rhymes" without any preparation. I was an oddity, a paradox: the scrawny bookworm who spoke little but rapped a lot. I became an unlikely bridge between two groups. In meek study groups I was one person, and amongst the tough crew I was another. I wield the art of rap in a different hand than most do. Rap is a branch of poetry, a medium through which I can release aggression and stress without raising a fist. I refrain from using profanity, but the tough spirit which accompanies the culture remains in my lyrics. Rap relates to my passion for crafting words and stories. It is an instrument through which I try to understand those I'm different from. It is a tool on which I can sharpen my mind, train myself to focus and think quicker. To me, rap is a birthmark, a scar, a scintillating banner of individuality I hold above society. The banner reads "I am a Muslim, I am an American, and I am more."

My affinity for hip-hop is a hobby, yes, but I've come to appreciate my strange knack for wordplay primarily because it does not suit me. I proudly choose to debunk the caricatures which define some members of our society. Diversity is my weapon of choice when it comes to shattering stereotypes. Rap doesn't have to be typified by greed, drugs and disrespect toward women. It can provide for insightful social commentary, if given the chance. To use words to destroy the barriers which clutter our society, that is why I continue to rap: to fit in and to stick out, to understand while changing understanding. One word rings loud and clear through the beat my heart bumps to: Iconoclast.

I'd really like a critique of this: structural, grammatical, topical, etc. I also have a few questions I need answered:

- Do you think the essay answers the prompt?
- Does the essay need a title?
- When I send the actual document, does the prompt need to be IN the actual document?
- The word limit is 500 words, and I'm just under that by two words. Any ideas on how to cut down?

I think I took a risk with this essay and would really like a critique. Thank you!

Undergraduate / "PAST AND FUTURE" - CORNELL CAS SUPPLEMENT [3]

I need to send this out asap, but it's 40 words above the 500 limit. Any ideas on cutting down??

Cornell College of Arts and Sciences Supplement:

Past. Future. The former haunts us with its solidity, the latter taunts us with its ambiguity. They are immortal twins of time, playing tug of war with the troubled middle child, the Present. It's constantly moving forward, yet constantly running away from us. What seems to be a nebulous future can become an adamant past in just a few moments. I used to lay for hours and hours in a state of pensiveness in my bed, trying my best to rearrange the past in my dreams. I had hesitated from opening my mouth and saying something that would later embarrass me. Michael Jackson had hired a different doctor to help him prepare for his tour. The terrorists boarding American Airlines Flight 11 and United Airlines Flight 175 just missed their flight. Each night I slumbered with the satisfaction that the past might be different when I woke up, and each day I'd awake to find it was just the same. I was so preoccupied with the past I had imagined in my head that I neglected the present, and my perception of reality was in turmoil. What I didn't want to believe had never happened, and what I wanted to happen I believed in.

Criticism is appreciated, but I really need to know how to cut it down. Thanks!