Undergraduate / 'moved to a new house' - Personal Essay for Princeton App [6]

Elementary school can be a cruel place. This is especially true when you have cowlicks, glasses, red cheeks and lips, and only one front tooth. People would call me "unitooth" in class, and I would smile, despite my pain. I loved my elementary school for its exciting projects and field trips, but I was always insecure in the social circles of the cafeteria and recess. Foursquare and wall ball were not my strengths, and despite my competency at jump rope, people soon wouldn't even let me play. Luckily, I had two good friends, but people made fun of me because they were girls, an elementary school abomination.

The summer after the sixth grade, my family moved to a new house in a different school district. Being an opportunistic boy, I realized that this was the time to change how others perceived me. I begged my parents for contacts, grew out my hair to hide the cowlicks, and even got braces to pull down my second front tooth. The culmination of my transformation was my change from Andrew to Andy. I thought that the "-drew" sounded nerdy, and the letter "-y" made my name look cooler. One result of my many efforts was that seventh grade was less excluding. I convinced some people that I was cool, and I was initially happy. My hard work had paid off. Unfortunately, being on guard was a necessary for me to continue being cool, and I was always acting like someone who I wasn't. In eighth grade, I even joined the football team, a true testament to my desperation. The jersey that I wore to school was my armor, and I was constantly fighting battles. This false persona continued until midway through my freshman year, when the football season ended. I realized how much happier I was when I wasn't physically and emotionally bruised every day. I started focusing more on school, and I received straight A's. I soon realized that I was reverting back to my elementary school years, but I hesitantly progressed. I don't even pretend to enjoy violence anymore, and I stopped saying "dude" when I was a sophomore. I cut my hair off once more, and my cowlicks now stick in every which way. Although I still wear contacts, and I can no longer accurately be called "uni-tooth", I am my quirky, easily excitable, and physically unfit self once more. I will continue to be called Andy, but I think I like Andrew better now. The "-y" sounds too cool, and the "-drew" sounds more scholarly.

PLEASE GIVE HARSH CRITICISM! I hope to apply to both Princeton and Swarthmore this fall.

Undergraduate / 'new kid in the school district' - Football essay for Princeton App [5]

I took the advice to stay away from a more generic coming of age essay, so I expanded on my (not so great) experience in football. Please be harsh. I'm applying to Princeton. Yes, the Princeton with the 8% acceptance rate. They have to be harsh, so should you. Thanks in advance!

Sweaty and straining to see, I hunch down for the play. The boy in front of me appears joyous and determined. I am scared, caged in by my helmet. Waiting for the screech of the whistle, my heart beat quickens. The boy collides with me, and I quickly plummet backwards. Getting up slowly, I look at the large clock on the side of the field, knowing that it has been stuck on the same time for years. I wished that it was 10:12 am, the time suggested by those two black hands. At 10:12 am, I would be in school, listening to a teacher, perhaps writing notes. But instead of that relative paradise, I was on a field being tackled repeatedly. Despite fear and pain that I felt so often, I continued to play football and pretended to enjoy it. Football was an opportunity at the age of 14. Wearing that jersey was my chance for the conformity and acceptance that I desired.

As the awkward new kid in the school district, I hoped that playing football would be my all-access pass to the unknown wonders of popularity. I joined the team during my eighth grade year, and when I told my friends from elementary school, they were surprised. "Isn't it cool?" I asked them proudly, "I'm not a nerd anymore." I lost weight, grew taller, and slowly moved up the food chain from my previously autotrophic position. Although I didn't become extremely popular, I was excited about my social climb. I was gaining friends, and I was invited to sit at the "cool" table most days.

As eighth grade ended and I started practice for freshmen football, I started to become extremely unhappy. The tackles were harder, personalities tougher, and commitment larger. I was rarely put into the game, a situation both my coach and I were happy with, but the time and energy required to be popular was no longer worth the pain. When the games ended and the bus rides home began, I would tell people how angry I was that the coach wouldn't play me more often. I was living a lie, and I think that most people knew it. I listened to show tunes on the bus, tried to bring up politics at practice, and I was one of the few team members who did his homework. When I told people that I wasn't going to play during sophomore year, I doubt that there was much surprise. I was discovering the kind of person I wanted to be, and football was not a part of that.

Reflecting on this experience, I realize that, despite my previous immaturity, I am still that same boy. I was focusing my energy on a childish goal, but I did it with determination and purpose. I was willing to jump out of my comfort zone to achieve. Instead of popularity, I now focus on my academic and extracurricular passions, but my methods of reaching my goals are the same. With determination, passion, and the ability to adapt, I believe success to be probable. Because I now strive in activities that I love and excel in, I believe it to be inevitable.

Undergraduate / Common App Essay - Sounds of My Life [5]

I'm applying to Princeton Early Action, and I recently wrote this essay. I believe it to be the best I've written, manily because the others seem cliche. Is this cliche too? It felt pretty original when I was writing it. Thanks for the criticisms! They are greatly appreciated!

My thoughts are blank. My mind is too weak to fight the music from filling my head with beauty. I am overtaken. No room for my thoughts exist as the guitar strums to my heartbeat, or as the drum's beat quickens. I smile. I don't have to try for enjoyment in these moments of bliss. The headphones are slightly uncomfortable in my ears, but the bass in the song makes me forget. Ever since I can remember, I've been addicted to sound.

When I hear a song, I am gullible to the lyrics, vulnerable to the artist's feelings, and defenseless against joy. Harmonies make me giggle, and chord resolutions have the power to make my heart flutter. Best part about being a musicphile? Sound is everywhere! It's always accessible. Even in a room without music, I sing my own songs; listen to the sounds around me. I harmonize with the radio, the school bell's ring, and even the vacuum cleaner's whir. I've been in love with the intro to The Lion King since I was three years old, and indeed, gospel choir music has long been one of my not-so-guilty pleasures. For most of my life, I simply admired music, but now I've grown to become a music creator as well. I write songs; I sing everywhere; I am free. I rarely decline when friends or strangers ask me to serenade them, and I'm not afraid to ask the same of others. In chemistry class, I wrote a song to remember the diatomic elements, and the quadratic formula still exists in my head as a song to the tune of Pop Goes the Weasle. I seek out music and sound everywhere in my life. I believe that the best things in life are free, and sound is one of these gifts.

I didn't think of my obsession with sounds as unique until last year. Driving back to Gladstone one night, the cross country team was playing "Would You Rather... ". When it was her turn, Nicole asked me, "Would you rather be deaf or blind?" I thought through the basic pros and cons, but then I just said, "Blind, because if I was deaf, I wouldn't be able to hear." I'm sure I sounded like an idiot, but the question provoked a lot of thought. The idea of eternal silence was so unimaginable that I could think of no worse consequence. Without the rustle of leaves, the jingle of change, or the sound of a choir, who would I be? I would not be myself. I think that the idea of deafness scared me because the thought of music comforts me. Without that comfort, I would be a different, lesser version of myself. But I am not afraid. I will never suffer beyond relief while music still exists in my life. It is too beautiful an escape.

Undergraduate / Molecular Building Blocks - Princeton Common App Essay [3]

This is my essay for the common app essay (topic of your choice). I was trying to tell a story that tells things about myself and the way I think. Please critique!

"Thump". I am driving out of the parking lot when I hear a sound. Ignoring it, I drive away. After lunch, I head back to work, and I am shocked. The entrance to the parking lot is littered with atoms, glimmering like jewels in the sunlight. My heart skips a beat and I park the car close by. I run toward the disaster, my lack of dignity unimportant. As I reach the site, my heart sinks. My molecular model kit is destroyed! The set was a recent gift, a memory of the summer spent working with molecules. They must have fallen off of my car after I accidently left them on the roof. I run out into the street and start to pick up the pieces, like so many strewn body parts. I pick them up one by one and examine. A cracked Oxygen, a bent Hydrogen, a flattened double bond, etc. Some are salvageable, but most have been run over repeatedly in the last hour. All of a sudden, I realize that all of the Carbon atoms are missing from the massacre! I remember that I built a Rhodamine B molecule with my set while in my lab cubicle. It was a molecule similar to the one that I had been studying, and it had used every Carbon atom in my kit. Somehow, the molecule must have separated from the kit! I looked throughout the entire parking lot, before going back into the office. I even stayed an hour after work so that I could search the asphalt after the hundreds of cars had left. It seemed so wrong that a molecule was lying somewhere on the Xerox campus and there was nothing I could do about it. If someone found the molecule, they would not know what molecule it was, could not appreciate it. After searching on foot and in the car, I gave up the search. As I drove home, I listened to the hip-hop radio station to get my mind off of the loss. I normally listen to NPR, but the impossibly calm voices would allow my mind to wander too much for a day like today. However, even Kanye West cannot stop me from thinking about the molecule. If someone found that molecule, would they know that Rhodamine B absorbs light in the 600 nm range, or appreciate the complex equilibria that I was worked so hard to learn about? What's more, all of my carbons were gone. The very definition of an organic compound was stripped from my molecule building repertoire. My birthday had just passed, and Christmas was still months away. I could buy a new kit with my own money, earned from working at the ice cream store, but buying a molecule building kit for myself seemed inappropriate, a trivial pursuit. The crushed pieces of atoms and covalent bonds still lie in my bedroom, awaiting a trash can. I wish that I had not left my new molecule set on top of my car. These useless objects, however, are a much better reminder of my summer, and of my love for Chemistry.

Undergraduate / Music shapes me, makes me fearless; Topic of Your Choice (for Princeton App) [4]

Criticize harshly.

My mind is void. The living room carpet is comfortable as I lie there, overtaken. One of my plastic headphones is rubbing painfully against my ear, but the bass in this song makes me forget the pain. No room for a thought exists as the guitar strums to my heartbeat, or as the drummer quickens his rhythm. I smile. I don't have to try for enjoyment in these moments of bliss. Ever since I can remember, I've been addicted to sound.

I am moved by music. When I was young, I would sit in the back of my mom's minivan, tears streaming down my face as the stereo played the local Christian radio station. I was pressed to tears by songs, whose lyrics I didn't even understand, because of the strong emotions they conveyed. Music gives me the chance to experience a range of emotion whenever I choose. The power of music over my mind is incredible, and I'm able to use songs as tools in my life. I can run faster, work harder, and feel my emotions on a deeper level, all because I feel what the artist is feeling.

What's the best part about musicophilia? Sound is everywhere! Even in a room without music, I sing my own songs; listen to the sounds around me. I harmonize with the radio, my theater friends, and even my vacuum cleaner. The intro to The Lion King has been exhilarating since I first heard it at age three and gospel choir music has long been one of my not-so-guilty pleasures. Because of my desire to create music, I've gained skills in piano, guitar, and vocal performance. There is power in leading a church worship service. There is significance in performing in front of hundreds. It's electrifying.

Not only do I make music, I make my life musical. The diatomic elements are best memorized in song, and the quadratic formula exists in my mind to the tune of "Pop Goes the Weasel". If I don't feel like saying something, I'll sing it. When friends or even strangers ask me to serenade them, I rarely decline, and I'm not afraid to ask the same of others. I write songs. I sing everywhere. I am free.

Driving back home to Gladstone one night, our cross country team is playing "Would You Rather... ". Nicole looks at me. "Would you rather be blind...or be deaf?" After thinking through the practical pros and cons, I realize that I could never choose deafness. The idea of eternal silence is so unimaginable that I can think of no worse fate. Without the rustle of leaves, the jingle of change, or the sound of a choir, who would I be? I would not be myself. Without music, my source and outlet of energy and emotion, I would be incomplete. Music shapes me, makes me fearless, and I will continue to listen to the sounds around me, because I am what I hear.