Undergraduate / 'Unique, quirky, original' - Yale Supplement [6]

You have already told us about yourself in the Common Application, with its list of activities, Short Answer, and Personal Essay. In this required second essay, tell us something that you would like us to know about you that we might not get from the rest of your application - or something that you would like a chance to say more about. Please limit your essay to fewer than 500 words.

Unique, quirky, original; these are three of many euphemistic terms that put a positive spin on the word 'weird'. I have been called all three over the course of my seventeen years, by peers and adults alike. I can't blame those who have put these labels on me, though; by most people's standards, I am weird. I am too sarcastic, too blunt, too curious. I get overly excited about academics, and my eagerness to discuss outside of the classroom the topics learned in it has always earned me eye rolls and blank stares. I am the sole Hermione Granger in a sea of Fred and George Weasleys.

Not only am I different from my peers, the different facets of my personality often juxtapose each other. I am genuinely terrified of bumble bees and so jumpy that being hit with an unexpected raindrop has been known to illicit one of my screams, and yet I didn't hesitate for a second when offered the opportunity to go to Kenya, a country where Black Mambas and Scorpions are mere blips on one's radar. My first weekend in Africa, I avoided the confrontation of telling my new friends I didn't want to go to the local bar by faking sick, and yet I relish the opportunity to crush my opponents in heated academic debates. I can watch psychological thrillers without wincing, but still can't face Scooby Doo on Zombie Island. My television and music tastes are unorthodox, with Gossip Girl and the Jonas Brothers being as close to my heart as I Love Lucy and the Beatles. I have just as ardent a love for reading and manipulating language in my English Classes as I do for dissecting and making discoveries in my Science classes.

I am unique. I am quirky. I am original. I defy expectations, and I am proud of that.

Undergraduate / Columbia Meaningful Activity - Environment. Need to turn in TONIGHT! [7]

I need to cut about 50 words. Also, suggestions to improve the essay's flow would be appreciated. Thanks!

"Please briefly elaborate on one of your extracurricular activities or work experiences in the space below."

Notes scattered across black lab benches; practice tests projected on the overhead as new members furiously scribble down responses to timed short answer sections; test tubes filled with soil, perched against textbooks as eager sophomores decipher the loam's acidity levels; and me, standing at the front of the room, belting out my Eutrophication mantra: "Nutrients, algae blooms, no D.O.; dead zones fill all the fish with sorrow." It is a week before the county competition - crunch time for South River's Envirothon team.

Being a part of Envirothon has not only increased my knowledge about soils, wildlife, aquatics, and forestry, it has helped to guide me as I take my first steps towards becoming an adult. Fighting the urge to bestow an eye-roll or a snarky remark upon a confused sophomore asking for the tenth time what a lateral line is has made me well-versed in patience. Forgoing sleepovers to make food-coloring coded cakes that illustrate the five ocean layers has given me a hands-on lesson in dedication. Attempting to take meeting notes and lecture about watersheds while running on three hours of sleep has hit home the importance of time management.

Envirothon has proved to me that the cliché "you get what you put in" is a cliché for a reason: because it is true. For all I put into Envirothon, I received my nerdy South River family in return.

Undergraduate / Personal Statement - Kenya Research [2]

Brutally honest opinions, please!

"Asante Sana," I said in thanks to the kind British man who had helped me lug my
seventy-five pound suitcase into the Tube compartment. He looked at me quizzically, cocking
his head to the side, "Pardon?" I cursed myself internally - fifteen minutes in London, and I had
already made a fool of myself. "Thank you. I meant thank you," I clarified. The man swiftly
turned and walked away, probably to a compartment that wasn't occupied by a bizarre
seventeen-year-old American girl. "Thank you. Thank you. Thankyouthankyouthankyou," I
repeated under my breath, attempting to drill the phrase into my brain. After a month of
expressing gratitude in Swahili, it was going to take some time to make the English response
routine again.
I stepped away from the doors and wedged myself into the only open seat, finding myself
sandwiched between the Plexiglas divider that signaled the end of the row and a woman wearing
enough perfume to fragrance half of Britain. Exhausted, I leaned my head back against the Tube
seat. The last time I'd slept had been over twenty-four hours earlier. A full day of hectic
packing had been followed by a nine-hour red-eye from Nairobi to Heathrow and rushed
goodbyes. This was my first chance to reflect since leaving Kenya.
Studying abroad in Africa had made me bolder. The girl I had been in June would have
blanched at the thought of finding highly venomous black mambas in her cabin. She would have
hesitated to volunteer to teach a group of thirty Maasai 'mommas' the Hokey Pokey. She would
have respectfully declined the offer to hold a freshly killed goat's intestines during an impromptu
biology lesson before the weekly goat roast. But the girl zipping towards her hostel on the
London Underground was braver than she used to be, and had embraced every one of these
opportunities. Along with this new confidence came a more relaxed outlook on life. Before this
summer, I had always been a planner and a scheduler, too concerned with the future to appreciate
the present. It is impossible to be this way in Kenya. There is a Swahili saying that I was taught
by our driver, Ernest: Haraka Haraka Haina Baraka, which means Hurry Hurry Has No
Blessings. Enjoying a spectacular view of Mount Kilimanjaro while eating a leisurely breakfast,
helping our chef Susan make delicious chapatti, spending entire afternoons doing nothing but
enjoying the company of new friends; I see the merit in that saying where I wouldn't have
before.
In the past month, I had grown not only as a person, but also as a scholar. The wildlife
management course I'd taken had been rigorous, but fulfilling. The part of me that relishes an
academic challenge had blossomed as a result of tackling the School for Field Studies' program.
While hastily recording habitat vitality as our Land Cruiser sped through Tsavo National Park,
while participating in official wildlife counts of Amboseli with Cynthia Moss, while conducting
interviews with the locals to determine the extent of human-wildlife conflict, we were
surrounded by people whose livelihood depended on successes in the field we were researching.
Through the work I did this summer, I came to better understand the purpose of higher learning:
not just to accumulate facts, but to apply knowledge gained with the goal of positively impacting
the world
I shifted my attention back to the present, to the train car rattling beneath me. Before
leaving for Kenya, I had scrimped and saved for months so that I could afford to travel in
London on my own for a week after the SFS program finished. Sitting there, zooming into
central London, I felt an overwhelming sense of pride at what I was accomplishing. I was
exerting my independence, pushing myself outside of my comfort zone, absorbing foreign
cultures like a sponge. I had never felt so alive.