Undergraduate / UC Personal Statement essays on Cross Country and discrimination. [4]

I appreciate any and all criticisms. Do these essays answer the prompts and read University of California worthy? What do these essay convey about me?

Prompt 1
Describe the world you come from - for example, your family, community or school - and tell us how your world has shaped your dreams and aspirations.

My father is white. My mother is a short Filipina. When I was little, I asked my father how they'd met. He told me that, one day, while walking along the shore, he heard the cries and distress of a woman in her sinking canoe and so leapt in the water to save her. Overwhelmed with gratitude, the woman wed my father that same day, grass skirt still dripping. I believed it then, and, in a sense, still do. If not by more modern means, my mother really did brave the Pacific to come to this country and my father persistently tried to teach me fairness and resolve - though the comic Calvin was probably lied to less.

Though I have more in common with my father, I more resemble my darker mother. It's made for ever awkward encounters and constant explaining. But, living in a predominately white suburb, I never seriously questioned my own ethnicity until high school. Freshman year, my friend prodded me into joining the Asian Club, a common interest club run by her friends. Through them, I attended numerous high school conferences managed by Asian interest clubs of the local colleges. The audience halls of UCSD or SDSU would be filled with hundreds of Asian students attending educational workshops and speeches. It was at one such event that a girl suddenly asked me how I felt being the only white person in the room.

I was dumbfounded. I asked her why. "Do you speak Filipino?" she asked. I couldn't. "Well, then you're white!" Growing up as a mestizo, I'd always felt somewhat displaced. I assumed that these students, whom I bore resemblance with, could at least relate. Instead I was being verbally excluded. A cousin would make a similar accusation at me because I was not born in the Philippines; I was incapable of understanding its culture. Yet, my parents never more than joked about the issue. If it didn't matter to them, why should it matter to anyone? Instead of shying, I tackled this question head-on. I ran for Asian Club president and won.

Working with the Vietnamese Student Alliance, our club folded hundreds of paper cranes attached to strings for hospitalized children - an act fabled to grant the receiver a wish. We fundraised nearly two thousand dollars for purposes both recreational and philanthropic. We balanced budgets, managed time, and coordinated events. Impossibly, we did this inattentive to race. I found that it is knowing how to cooperate - appearances aside - that best realizes progress. Presently, I encourage all my club members to attend these school conferences and enrich themselves. I plan to apply the skills I've learned managing my club to an engineering field where it will undoubtedly be useful. With such knowledge, I hope that when conflicts arise - or sink, rather - I'll have the skill and resolve to dive in and meet them.

Prompt 2
Tell us about a personal quality, talent, accomplishment, contribution or experience that is important to you. What about this quality or accomplishment makes you proud and how does it relate to the person you are?

The darkened room lie perfectly still and I fidgeted trying to do the same. I gazed dimly at the pulsing gray shapes on the monitor and listened anxiously to its rhythmic squishing. It was my heart; my squishing. I was at a free cardiac screening at my school and an observation had suddenly necessitated my own ultrasound. It was lasting disturbingly long. My nurse had left quickly and returned with a very solemn, gray-haired doctor. Calmly, he instructed me to call my parents - the exam had revealed an abnormality.

I felt helpless. I feared what the implications of this may mean, whether I could live the life I wanted to or not. I was a cross country team captain. We ran nearly every day. Worse, our coach would be away most of the summer. Other teammates had taken jobs, went out of town, or were unenthusiastic about the new season since our outlook seemed poor with so many absentees. If I couldn't participate, I would at least help to keep the team from unraveling and so warily continued running.

Ironically, the workouts were just as difficult as their logistics. Our coach had given us only basic instructions, leaving us to decide the rest. Complicating matters worse, we had to manage our underclassmen who were prone to running across traffic, getting lost, or otherwise acting destructive. We engineered the workouts accordingly: plotting on google maps, placing cones, using timers, and even building in double-backs to catch unruly freshmen. When thoughts conflicted, we compromised. We did this every morning, planning usually sixty miles a week. Astonishingly, we lasted the entire summer with little incidences.

We were all relieved when our coach finally returned, I even more so at the news that my earlier examination gave a misdiagnosis. I was able to finish my season without restraint and our team ran memorably well. But my experience lent more than just self-gratitude. Knowing when to argue and when to concede is vital in collaborating in groups. We also learned that plans don't always translate well to reality and being adaptive and finding detours, literal or not, can make all the difference. Looking back, having ran with athletes with asthma and even arrhythmias, I am reminded of my own good fortune. The doctors and nurses I met through this ordeal were ever pleased to answer my questions that my interest in biology fostered. Their kindness certainly opened an avenues towards helping others that I plan to follow fully, borrowing the lessons of my school's track to the biomedical track.

Undergraduate / 'Filipina and a booming laugh' - UC on overcoming cancer [3]

Any and all criticisms are appreciated. The emotion of my essay shouldn't hold you from scrutinizing it. Also, please mention what you've learned about me after reading this essay. What are the obvious themes? Is this essay UC worthy?

Prompt 1
Describe the world you come from - for example, your family, community or school - and tell us how your world has shaped your dreams and aspirations.

My father has a booming laugh. My mother is a short Filipina. When I was little, I once asked my father how they'd met. He told me that one day, walking along the shore, he heard the cries of a woman in her sinking canoe and so leapt in to save her. My mother would shoot her deadly glare and my father would explode in amusement. It's memories like these that give me composure, especially since my father's diagnosed cancer.

My childhood was full of such fantasies and nostalgias. Of course, my mother was hardly the damsel in distress. Born on a farm in the Philippines, she worked as a midwife and, later taking night school, became an RN. My fondest memories are of me clinging to her warm, aseptic scrubs watching lectures on VCR. She has an invisible courageousness that I love to draw upon. My father was the music connoisseur. On days he wasn't working the port of entry, I would bounce on his knee, mind and ear open to Bob Dylan, Duke Ellington or The Beach Boys. The rosy music stopped after he shattered his shoulder on the job and was forced into medical retirement.

At first, nothing could suppress my father's enthusiasm. He would laugh and tell the world to marry nurses - you'll get free caretaking for life. But over time my father's injury degenerated into arthritis, scoliosis, and most recently cancer. Each day seems to erode his body and spirit, leaving mine and my mothers to support him. As certain fatherly responsibilities go unfulfilled, we've had to compensate. But I'm often at a loss - I can't even drive yet. Yet I find myself become more self-reliant, drawing less of their courage for fear of exhausting it.

Certain possibilities must be recognized but its doubtful one could ever truly prepare. With certain subtleties I try to show gratitude, but a clean bedroom or flawless report card could never fill the incalculable debt I owe to my parents. Instead, I fall inward upon my studies, acting diligently in school and dabbling in music theory. Whether in mourning or celebration, the occasion when I'll play for him on his tenor saxophone does not matter because the inevitability of the occasion is just that: unchangeable. Instead I work with unremitting effort to play and perform to the best of my abilities with the time that is given, in whatever that might be.

The unsettling peace of our house is worsened by the thought that I'll be leaving it soon. After all she's worked, it pained my mother when she nearly asked me to stay. But I won't fail to launch. She being my inspiration, I reassure her I'll go into medicine, as she hoped, but by applying my aspirations in bioengineering. All the while, my father sits cozily sipping smoothies with coconut milk my mother made. She seems to be the one doing the saving now. When I leave I'll be carrying the goodness they've instilled in my life, carrying a certain courageousness and sense of humor whenever I may go.

Undergraduate / 'Meant more than a clearer face' - UC Personal Statement on running Cross Country [3]

With deadlines a few days away, please be harsh on this! What did you learn about me after reading this? What themes and morales were present in this essay? Is this piece UC worthy?

I think the tone sounds more awkward rather than cheery, which I was going for. Since the story required a lot of explaining and I was limited by my word count (470), I had to say a lot of things outright. "I'm more confident...I'm a better person ect." How should I word this more indirectly while keeping the message?

Prompt 2
Tell us about a personal quality, talent, accomplishment, contribution or experience that is important to you. What about this quality or accomplishment makes you proud and how does it relate to the person you are?

Perhaps I joined cross country in high school because I was incapable of doing anything else. Being nearly six feet tall in the eighth grade and incredibly gawky, my only helpful proclivity was a slight inclination towards running. Whatever the reason, I found a certain excitement on the starting line. There was a wrenching fear associated with racing that, like most thing in life, I thought I was sure to shy from. I never would've appreciated the impact running would have on me.

Yes; I was shy, but some explaining is needed: I had considerable cystic acne. Desperate, I underwent treatment with accutane, the virtual atomic bomb of acne medication. Its side effects felt just as severe: anemia, headaches, eczema, dehydration. All this guaranteed that, freshman year, I was the slowest, most miserable thing on the cross country team. In a sense, it was comforting; since nothing was expected of me, I did mostly nothing. But as the medication wore off, my complacency was shattered when I actually began winning races. Instead, I accepted that, if I worked, I could succeed even at this.

Now emboldened, I trained a successful summer. Consequently, my coach threw me onto varsity my sophomore year. My confidence was crushed by the sudden expectations and faster pace. My initial progress tapered into a long plateau. Races became degrading; the very sight of them nauseating. I had fallen into a deep slump that would last years.

There were plenty of opportunities to admit defeat. My accutane treatment had, among other things, stunted my growth entirely. The scars left on my arms served as a constant reminder. At one point, I was even misdiagnosed with a cardiac abnormality. Any of these would've served as a final excuse, but I was adamant in the belief my perseverance would pay off.

Eventually it would be realized in a way that surprised even myself. This summer, most of the upperclassmen runners had taken jobs or gone out of town - even our coach would be absent. Without summer training, our prospects were bleak. So, every morning, I helped coordinate the summer workouts. Placing cones, using Google maps, we planned nearly sixty miles a week. By the summer's end, I was amazed to find myself acting a confident team captain and later shattered my sophomore personal records.

It's safe to say that these last few years have lent more to me than a clearer face. Through the team I've made lifelong friends and memorable experiences - a far cry from anything my past self would have done. My newly found confidence applies itself quite easily: whenever I find myself in a difficult situation, academically, mentally, or otherwise, I ask myself, "is this worse than running a timed three miles?" More often than not, it seems the only answer is a timed four.

Undergraduate / UC Personal Statement on Depression and Cross Country [3]

I'm about ready to submit apps and this essay needs a final glance. It should be grammatically sound but feel free to make suggestions. Thanks so much!

Please answer: Does this essay answer the prompt? What have you learned about the author after reading this? Is this essay UC worthy?

Prompt 2
Tell us about a personal quality, talent, accomplishment, contribution or experience that is important to you. What about this quality or accomplishment makes you proud and how does it relate to the person you are?

As a cross country runner, I can no longer register the words "run" and "Forrest" shouted in succession. But it wasn't always so. The jeer seems fitting given my own similarities. I was especially tall for my age, quiet, and unassuming - the epitomized high school freshman. Like others, I was looking to fulfill my underdeveloped sense of worth and, like others, often let my vulnerabilities get the better of me. Unlike others, I was running on my own double-dose of inadequacy, chemicals that nearly got the better of me.

Maybe I was overly sensitive. My narcissistic teen-self wanted to be validated in its own reflection: the showering approval and praise of others. And, when refused, so turned hatefully inward. Or maybe it was the Accutane acne medication I was prescribed, the failed brain cancer therapy drug turned convenient which I so willingly signed my own suicide waiver for. Whatever the cause, the effects were the same, a bitter resentment for myself and everything around it.

The heart-pounding anxiety of the starting line, when coupled with my own self-degradation, proved impossible to manage. I would rather drown in my shallow self-pity than contend it. Exertion to the point of collapse seemed incredibly appealing; to be martyred in bright racing short-shorts and leave society to blame. Such thoughts might consume me on my early morning runs along the cliffs. In the fog, the invisible waves below were heard but not seen and, so easily, I could take a step and become invisible too. But I was too lost in the euphoria of the run, too detached; my pounding heart rate was louder than whatever absurdities and trite opinions my own vanity could think.

With the ground flying beneath me, I was apart from my own worrisome ego. The miles lent Zen-like clarity and I could finally recognize my own credulousness. Instead of concerning myself with the opinions of others, I would reflect on my last races, failings, and learn from them - I would get to know myself. Gradually, whether by maturity or the treatments end, I became comfortable with myself, running in my own skin. Delicately, I branched out, getting comfortable with the team as they did to me.

Four years later, it is all still a work-in-progress. The scars the medication left on my arms remind me both of that terrible first year and how far I've come, and not just in mileage. Now, I'm a team captain. In our coach's absence, we trained our underclassmen this summer. The freshmen's readiness when I address them and the faith they give never ceases to amaze me. How could they trust me? But when I hear the competence of my own voice, I know I can act a little more self-assuredly. My introversive nature is, ironically, what gives me confidence. I'll solve my own struggles one step at a time.

Undergraduate / Curiosity; Stanford Supp/ Intellectual vitality [4]

What did you learn about me after reading this essay and what was it's overall theme? Does it appropriately answer the prompt? Do any segments seem unnecesary or fail to add to the message of the essay? Thanks for reading this!

Stanford Supplemental

1. Stanford students possess intellectual vitality. Reflect on an idea or experience that has been important to your intellectual development.

I had expected a dry presentation from the docent at the Salk institute for Biological Studies so I was amazed when Dr. Crenshaw showed us that the most prized possessions in her laboratory office were a jar of peanut butter and a pair of Beats headphones. It was guilty spoonfuls and the music of less accredited Dr. Dre which helped break the monotony of the research papers and documents she read and wrote. Astonished, we were next allowed to toy with containers of liquid nitrogen, but not before being ambushed by interns shooting pipette caps from pressurized air cans.

I was astounded. Wasn't this academia? I had assumed that the institution, whose boring concrete walls had molded Nobel laureates of a myriad of uninterestingly titled works, would be, well, boring. Instead we met lively people who were genuinely glad to come to work to write lab reports and spin centrifuges. Even the diagram-filled lecture Dr. Crenshaw later gave was just as engaging as the morning before. She spoke ardently of her graduate work on Sickle-cell anemia, a disease that had claimed the life of her childhood friend and mused her ever since. Her passion was contagious, and it certainly affected me.

I owe Dr. Crenshaw most for reinvigorating my interest in science. I had the premonition that my curiosity would surely die in the large, impersonal halls and didactic lectures of college. I could hardly believe that I, the naive high school student, could share such similarities with this doctor. In some ways, the tour helped me realize that we should never truly grow up. That is to say, we should cling tight to our childlike curiosities about the world which are so crucial in science and research. The vivaciousness of the scientists and researchers at the Salk Institute was not unprofessional, but instead essential to their profession itself.

Undergraduate / Moving on; Stanford Supp/ Intellectual Vitality [NEW]

Does this essay answer the prompt? What did you learn about me after reading the piece. Do any parts of the essay subtract from the overall message and, if so, what would you recommend be changed? Thank you so much!

Stanford Supplemental

1. Stanford students possess intellectual vitality. Reflect on an idea or experience that has been important to your intellectual development.

The committee's votes were evenly split; half for one proposal, the other for my own. Bickering had prolonged an agreement for far too long; a polished piece of legislation needed to be submitted soon. The deciding vote would be taken following a final debate. I had five minutes to prepare.

Five minutes to condense my countless hours of research: a bulwark of statistics, testimonies, and reports for a bill crafted to be universally appealing. Fellow concerns - tax reform, debt relief, funding for education - were encompassed into one simple bill, an amendment to Prop Thirteen. I had poured over analytic papers, audits, and editorials on the same legislation that had nearly forced my family into foreclosure. But while my proposal was pressingly urgent, it was, unlike the other, naturally dull. So the opposition drew lines - fun versus not fun. As designated killjoy, I set my passions and anger to paper. The five minutes ended. The two camps squared off.

I spoke. They spoke. I lost.

A frustrated few stood to leave, but I sat despondently still. Already the others had began to vocalize the details of their first draft. I swept up the documents, now made useless, that were scattered before me. Strangely enough, it felt renewing - like wiping a messy board clean. The winning bill, though promising, lacked substance. There were undoubtedly countless more documents to pour through, abstracts to write, and minds to convince. Starting anew, this fresh challenge seemed enticing. After all, their bill, a proposal to build widespread bike infrastructure in cities, seemed more much lively than a quantitative analysis on property taxation. Compared to my previous bill, this research would be a walk in the park - or a bike ride, rather. One thing was certain, though: I'd better start now.

Undergraduate / Essay on the remarkable Dr. Crenshaw; Common App [3]

Thanks for reading this! Please try to respond to these questions: Does the essay answer the prompt? What have you learned about me and after reading this essay? I've applied to nearly all of my schools as a Biomedical Engineer. Knowing that, does this essay help or hurt my application?

Common App Essay

Indicate a person who has had a significant influence on you, and describe that influence.
At first sight, the Salk Institute for Biological Studies looked an appropriate compilation of concrete that echoed its dry name. I begrudgingly followed our tour group up aseptic gray steps, readying myself for whatever monotone white coat we would have to endure. My predisposition was so strong that I hardly believed the young, bright-eyed woman at the podium when she introduced herself as Dr. Crenshaw. Yet the stories and lessons she shared to us were too vibrant and passionate to ignore. In fact, it was Dr. Crenshaw's lecture that inspired me to go into research.

Science was hardly my forte at school. I was the acknowledged bane of my biology lab group whose grades and lives I'd once endangered mishandling a syringe of acid. Lab reports didn't matter to me. It seemed mindlessly redundant to prove empirical value "X" on page one hundred-something when the answer and procedure were always given to us beforehand. I was much more captivated by our classes more curious discussions. Genetic engineering, pluripotent stem cells, these poorly understood subjects offered a myriad of potential miracles. Yet such conversations were far and few in our classes humdrum curriculum and so science seemed just that: boring.

Dr. Crenshaw was not boring. Her personality out-bubbled solutions on Bunsen burners. At her lab desk sat a pair of headphones that blared the rhythms of our revered - though less accredited - Dr. Dre. But most prominent to us was the absolute rapture when she spoke of her research. How her work on Sickle-cell anemia served not just mankind but memorialized the life of her childhood friend. And she expressed vehement frustration at the lone nucleotide, of the thousands of millions in the girl's DNA, that caused the travesty. The detailed illustrations of twisted proteins and amino acids she presented told a tragic story, which made it fascinating.

Her lecture ignited my interests in biology. She reminded us that research in the science of life heavily impacted the lives of others. Her fun-loving personality brought peer-review academia down to earth, a subject that once seemed so aloof during our biology class discussions. I realized then what I had lost in the routine of my high school studies: that research was very much the pursuit of curiosity. That, behind its dull and didactic language, it was a means for the progression of society.

The tours last destination was the institutes cafeteria and we concluded the day seated on concrete tables with ham sandwiches. Admittedly, I was, by then, less interested in satiating my own scientific curiosities than my own stomach's ones. But by lunch, the Salk Institute's cement walls no longer felt so severe. The buildings modest design lent clarity to its inquisitive denizens. I promised myself I would find myself in a similar setting, pursuing research and work of my own.