Undergraduate / "Walking To Reality" - Rice University Supplement [2]

The quality of Rice's academic life and the Residential College System are heavily influenced by the unique life experiences and cultural traditions each student brings. What perspective do you feel that you will contribute to life at Rice? (Most applicants are able to respond successfully in two to three double-spaced pages.)

Walking to Reality
My view on my life and the world has grown and changed along with my age and body. I walked through the narrow hallways of Elementary School-all four feet of me- with my oversized glasses and unbearably high-pitched voice with the ever feeling of security and comfort. The hallways gave a sense of acceptance, as I felt the same as all of my other classmates, with no worries. Situations like finding the best spot on the reading rug and being picked on the best recess football team were my biggest concerns. My daily adventures with classmates, whether it was pendulating on the monkey bars at school or playing outdated video games at the home of a friend, seemed endless, always filled with a new sense of excitement and wonder. If someone were to ask me what I thought my life would be like 5-10 years from then, I would have swiftly replied that it would be the same except everyone would be older, of course; I was young then.

As the daunting yet enkindling idea of middle school arrived, my romantic view remained unchanged although not as strong as before. I still pictured traveling with all of my old companions through strange new hallways encompassed with an infinite amount of gleaming metal lockers, not being fazed by the influx of new children from districts all over of what seemed like the world to me. My certainty of staying close to the friends I spent my early years of life turned into a dream as everyone parted their separate ways. Hours upon hours of screeching and scrambling around playing fictitious sports with one another turned into a simple hello or head nod in the hallway. My idea of a perfect world was not so perfect after all.

Faster then I could comprehend, high school arrived. The wonderful days of elementary school were long gone as priorities of receiving excellent grades and test scores were fastened on me. This time my romantic views of finding the perfect group of friends and being accepted by everyone had disappeared just as my glasses and shaggy hair had. Former "best friends" lost their ways or fell into the abyss of cliques. Hallways crowded with groups of judgmental and close-minded groups. Unlike elementary school, in high school, I thought color was much more important than which colored pencil to choose. Rather than expressing and priding in my rich cultural traditions and values bestowed upon me from my parents, I began to confine and conform to the crowd, hoping it would "get me in".

I then realized, where would culture be if everyone conformed to a subset? What would I be able to pass down to my children-- a multitude of cultural traditions, cuisine, and values or a generic view on the world and life? I began to see that being ashamed and disingenuous of ones roots can lead to self-deprecation and unhappiness. Why does one need to conform to an environment rather than have an environment conform to them. With the residential college system at Rice, I look forward to meet and embrace culture and traditions from all walks of life. My experiences have helped me realize the meaning of true self and I believe I can help others find it as well. Although many of my romantic views have faded since elementary school, I have gained a new perspective on this world and believe that you just have to walk down those hallways with pride and confidence and leave the rest alone.

- Sheel P

Undergraduate / Breaking my "Shell"- Common App Essay [5]

Hey everyone, this is my rough draft of my common app essay. Its ~530 words... i know I have to cut it down a little. But just tell me what you think and how I can improve it. Thanks a lot!

"Can Shell Patel come down to the office?" I heard snickers across my freshman biology classroom as my ethnic name was mistaken for the hard exoskeleton of a shellfish over the loudspeaker. My dark brown skin turned crimson as I quickly scurried out of the classroom to avoid further embarrassment.

"How could she call me shell? My name clearly has two "e's" Thoughts like these raced through my head as I feared the ridicule I would be faced with from my peers.

"Shell Patel? Really?" This misnomer remained in the back of my mind the whole day until it struck me. "Shell" Patel could accurately describe who I was.

Back then I didn't believe I fit the "mold" of the area I lived it. Residing in the homogeneous vacation spot of thousands of New York City business moguls has its great benefits, but let's just say diversity isn't a strong point of Eastern Long Island. This fact mentality gripped me as I believed that melting myself down and fitting the social and cultural molds were the only way to achieve acceptance from my peers. My roots, heritage, and identity fell to the wayside as my desire for social "acceptance" took precedent, molding myself a perfect false exoskeleton.

My enriching visits to volunteer at my Hindu temple became "this Indian thing I attend" to my friends. Along with my culture, my other passions were held behind my shell. My devotion to playing a multitude of instruments from the harmonica (my favorite) to the saxophone, transforming my home into a music hall - to the dismay of my parents- was unknown to my peers. Music brought me the greatest fulfillment as it carried away my stress and outside problems with its' simple melodies. My career-elucidating research internship at a prestigious laboratory was turned into "this summer thing my parents made me attend." I was just a mollusk, taking the shape of my environment.

I then realized, where would culture be if everyone conformed to a subset? What would I be able to pass down to my children-- a multitude of cultural traditions, cuisine, and values or a generic view on the world and life? I began to see that being ashamed and disingenuous of ones roots and passions could lead to self-deprecation and unhappiness. Why does one need to conform to an environment rather than have an environment conform to them? You could say this was the "breaking out of my shell" moment.

I could not believe the fulfillment I felt, as I opened up to the outside. I was able to be myself without the fear of acceptance. I could enjoy being a psuedo-politician during school elections learning respect, and humility when dealing with a loss. I was able to express my passion for music, performing at multiple venues - mostly my bedroom. But best of all, I was gaining respect from everyone I encountered, not for my abilities or heritage but rather for being an individual who looked out for others and did everything to the best of his ability.

From all of this I found my answer as everyone looked at my inner self rather than my "shell".

- Sheel P