Undergraduate / 'A new generation makeing great scientific discoveries' - Carnegie Mellon [4]

When I was a freshman in high school, I visited my friend's house. He had a sister who was in her senior year and was in the process of receiving a plethora of college acceptances, many of which she tossed aside until she found the one she was looking for. One of the tossed letters was from CMU and I had asked her, "What is CMU? What is it good at?" She meagerly replied, "Oh, it's just some geeky science school...science research kids. I'd rather pursue law." At the time, I was only a freshman so I didn't think about college too much but CMU stuck. And throughout high school, I saw CMU everywhere from college nights to picturing myself on its campus.

If CMU is the place that "geeky research kids" go, then I want to get in on the action! Science and history make up a good bit of who I am and I feel that scientific research exemplifies both of those subjects, science being the budding ideas and history being the roots. As a high school researcher in ophthalmology at the Weill Cornell Medical College, I am choosing to major in chemistry because I believe it offers the most variety (in the Mellon College of Science); chemistry branches into all fields of science. When I was young, I often associated "science" with the periodic table. Having taken high school Chemistry, AP Chemistry, and now Post-AP Chemistry: Quantitative Analysis, I do understand the requirements and responsibilities of pursuing chemistry as my major. I am proud to say that I am looking forward to the task. I hope to implement my chemistry learnings into my research, an activity I most certainly intend to pursue at Carnegie Mellon University. In fact, it is the reason why I believe it is the perfect fit for me. Alongside chemistry, I like to keep history close. Being a New Yorker, it is hard to say no to the Metropolitan Museum of Art of the Museum of Modern Art. As a result, I have high hopes of pursuing Art History or Philosophy as my second major or minor (in the Dietrich College of Humanities and Social Sciences).

If I told you that I was planning to become a doctor in the future, you wouldn't be surprised. Neither would I. But what if I told you I was planning to practice in third-world countries? And that I wanted to "save the world?" Then you may think that, "Hmm, this guy is something." I am quite nonchalant about my future salary; money isn't what I strive for in life. I strive for influence, with the hope that one day I will be able to impact the world. I believe that I am extremely mature for my age; I understand the mishaps of the world, how the world works, but most importantly, I know how to get things done in the world. I think once a person realizes that, money becomes insignificant and the only thing they want to do is to better the world. It's something I have realized as a result of high school and it is something I intend to carry out. College is one of the big steps.

I bring to Carnegie Mellon not my grades nor my SAT scores. I bring to Carnegie Mellon the epitome of a new generation. I bring with me the Class of 2017, the kids that will continue to make great scientific discoveries and continue to make a mark in history. In short, I bring the whole package.

Undergraduate / 'Do not forget your origin when you succeed' - Michigan Supplement 2012-2013 [5]

Everyone belongs to many different communities and/or groups defined by (among other things) shared geography, religion, ethnicity, income, cuisine, interest, race, ideology, or intellectual heritage. Choose one of the communities to which you belong, and describe that community and your place within it. (Approximately 250 words)

She worked constantly until she had children. He still works every day of the year, including the holidays. Yet, they barely make enough to care for me and my sister. My parents came here three decades ago and they're still asking themselves, "this is the American Dream?" They are the lower class and as a result, I am born into it.

Unlike my parents, I love the lower class and I can tell you why. Call me the underdog, the wild card, or nickname me "Stryver" from A Tale of Two Cities because it's all true. The lower class fellows are the ones that have to try harder, have to become better, have to achieve and maintain their new status; we see the most promises and opportunities lying ahead.

And I like that. I love that. Over the years, we've seen kids get iPads for Christmas. We've seen kids eating McDonald's for lunch while we ate school lunch. We've seen kids seemingly get a new pair of shoes every week! What does the lower class have to say to that? Well, other than the fact that we've become more mature, more patient, more versatile, and stronger people, there's also that small bit of green envy.

And that envy invigorates us...bubbling and boiling beneath our skin. But we maintain our cool, and we work hard and make our relatives proud. Because that's all the lower class has--Mom and Dad hoping their children have easier lives. We work our way up the ladder. Sometimes, one of us hits gold; others are content with just silver or bronze. When we succeed, we don't forget our origins. The lower class isn't something you forget. It's a lifestyle and as horrible as that sounds, the lessons learned are invaluable. And the rewards are unforgettable.

Undergraduate / Common App Essay- The Linguistic Divide, Inside and Out [5]

Please give feedback, I'll help you guys out as well!

The Linguistic Divide

In the rundown slums of Bay Ridge, Brooklyn, a nervous Chinese community sprawled up, next to Mexican supermarkets and Italian auto shops. Here, my mother got her first taste of America. I didn't know why she loved that dingy tenement building and I never asked, but I did know one thing-the people, the garbage pick-up at 3AM, the mosquito infestation, or whatever it was, convinced my mother that America was beautiful. Beautiful enough to make her Chinese culture seem insignificant. She was convinced that when I was born, I would become her "American" boy, completely assimilated. She was also convinced that she would learn English, to communicate with her son. Of the two, she succeeded in one.

On more than a few occasions, I wanted to snap back at her but I didn't. Rather, I couldn't. All that would come out would be a choppy set of Chinese words mixed with partial English sentences. So, I just sat there silently and listen to her criticisms, words she always thought I never heard. Truth was, I listened to it all-and as much as I wanted to tell my mother everything that was dwelling in my deepest emotional caverns, my mind would not allow it. For the words that translated, "I'm on a busy schedule," or "I lost a crucial match," or "I think I like this girl and I'm confused," and every other imaginable teen problem, did not exist in my limited Chinese vocabulary. And she knew it.

These days, some people realize what a terrible wrong it was for me to not learn Chinese. Others are amazed at how well I managed to retain my ancestral roots. My mother represents both sides. Despite her denouncement of my pleas to attend Chinese school as a child, my natural ear for languages allowed me to pick up my mother's Cantonese, my father's Mandarin, and even my grandparents' village language of Hakka-an ability that put my cousins to shame when I spoke it to my poh poh and gong gong at family reunions. It felt great. There was just one thing missing.

So I walked in. On a crisp Saturday morning two years ago, I entered a Chinese school. My classmates, children at my waist, ran by me. One child walked up to me and asked, "Are you our new teacher?" and I sent him away giggling. For a few months, I learned to read and write. Sitting in a room filled with Pooh stickers and a height chart that only grazed 5 feet, I should've felt demoralized.. However, my determination never faltered. When the semester ended in December, my mother asked if I wanted to continue my studies. Despite enjoying the class, I said no to another semester. I couldn't.

Perhaps for the first time in my life, I could express-just partially-my reasoning to my mother. My priorities had changed from those that I had 5 years earlier. School, sports, community service, scientific research, the list goes on. To one of her questions, I replied, college. And I think she understood that I would not give up on the language. From Chinese school, I achieved what I wanted for so long. Peace on the inside, peace on the outside.

Undergraduate / 'loving the lower class' - UMich Essay- Community you belong [4]

Please provide feedback!

Everyone belongs to many different communities and or groups defined by sure geography religion ethnicity income cuisine interest rates ideology or intellectual heritage. Choose one of the following communities to which you belong and describe the community and your place within it.

She worked constantly until she had children. He still works every day of the year, including the holidays. Yet, they barely make enough to care for me and my sister. My parents came here three decades ago and they're still asking themselves, "this is the American Dream?" They are the lower class and as a result, I am part of it.

Unlike my parents, I love the lower class and I can tell you why. Call me the underdog, the wild card, or nickname me "Stryver" from A Tale of Two Cities. It's all true. The lower class are the ones who have to try harder, have to become better, have to achieve and maintain their new status; we see the most opportunities and promises lying ahead.

And I like that. I love that. Sometimes, it's hard to tell me apart from my friend whose father makes my family's rent money in a day. We dress similarly, skinny jeans and flannel shirts. But on the inside, I'm more mature. I'm the one helping him with homework. I'm the one that passes to him so he can score. Sometimes, he loses a bet and I get free lunch! But the fact that he can so nonchalantly swipe his credit card for my Big Mac and soda envies me. I wished I could do that.

And that envy invigorates the lower class...bubbling and boiling beneath our skin. Th envy becomes a determined engine roaring full steam ahead. Destination: nice house, great job, success. Sometimes, one of us hits gold; others are content with just silver or bronze. And when we do, we don't forget our origins. The lower class isn't something you forget. It's a lifestyle and as horrible as that sounds, the lessons you learn are invaluable. And the rewards are unforgettable.