Undergraduate / This essay matters to me. After all, it's for Stanford, the sanctuary for intellects [10]

Prompt: What matters to you, and why? (100 to 250 words)

This essay matters to me. After all, it's for Stanford, the sanctuary for intellects from all over the world; to enter this realm, I had to challenge myself to fashion a window for my thoughts, framing my values onto a mere 250 words. Recognizing the difficulty of such a task, I decided to spend a few weeks jotting down ideas on a piece of scratch paper before writing the actual essay.

This was a fresh experience for me; it forced me to closely examine and identify everything that mattered to me. As I continued this process, I started to notice the small aspects of my life that had significance in its own unique way: headphones I wear to school every day, a complete set of Calvin and Hobbes, a good-luck bracelet from a Japanese festival...I soon found myself excited at each rediscovery, the list expanding to a grand total of 183 items. But as I accumulated ideas, I began to wonder if the essay meant more to me than a potential ticket to my dream school.

I then realized how important the very experience of writing down the list was. Through this process, I discovered that I valued self-reflection; the conscious act of giving meaning to each object was meaningful in and of itself. The essay was a valuable learning opportunity for me to stop and think about what I value in my life, to understand how I perceive myself through my mind's window.

Does this answer the prompt at all? Please help me edit! Thanks!

Undergraduate / Columbia Engineering Essay: Jazz band was the last class I expected to use mathematics... [7]

For applicants to The Fu Foundation School of Engineering and Applied Science, please tell us what from your current and past experiences (either academic or personal) attracts you specifically to the field or fields of study that you noted in the Member Questions section. (300 words or less)

Jazz band was the last class I expected to use mathematics.
So, when I saw numbers on the music theory worksheet-a list of pentatonic scales in numbered musical notations-I was surprised. Numbers? In jazz? It never occurred to me to approach music from an analytical perspective; I only understood music as an art, to be mastered with practice and intuition. I tried to make sense of the seemingly random sequences of numbers and symbols, but with little success. Being both the curious mathematician and the uncompromising musician, I was determined to decipher the numerical code to uncover what secrets to music it may behold.

I eventually discovered that the numbers were used to restore order to the chaotic universe of jazz. Every musical element had a numerical counterpart; chords can be described with ratios, musical scales can be expressed with permutations, and melodies can be identified with set theory. I was thrilled; I was learning a completely different way to perceive music. I eventually found myself interested in the world of musical analysis and engineering, exploring new possibilities to connect music with numbers, figures, and computations.

The Fu Foundation School of Engineering and Applied Science empowers me to pursue this interest, providing both the depth of the finest scientific education and the breadth of the extensive Core Curriculum-which happens to include a wealth of music courses in the Department of Music. I can also take full advantage of the abundant research opportunities in order to investigate contemporary topics, such as algorithmic composition and musical interactivity, at the Computer Music Center. I do not wish to be bound to a single passion or interest; only at Columbia Engineering I can become the computer engineer and the artistic musician-and maybe even more.

Did I emphasize too much on my personal experience and not enough about the school?
I'm also worried about grammar here...so any help is appreciated!

Undergraduate / Stanford, intellectual vitality prompt: "The steady walk of the upright bass..." [3]

Stanford students possess an intellectual vitality. Reflect on an idea or experience that has been important to your intellectual development. (250 word limit)

The steady walk of the upright bass, the syncopated beat of the snare drum, and the juicy melody of the tenor saxophone. So this was jazz-a music style not bound by the notes on the sheet music, which gave curious musicians the freedom to explore an infinite number of ways to perform a single song. It was my very first session as a member of the jazz band; I felt myself shudder in excitement as I clumsily struck the last few chords on the piano, eager to learn the art.

I figured much later that because every note is played on the spot, jazz is mastered neither by learning music theory nor by practicing the blues scales, but simply by listening. It took me months of practice to perfect this craft; eventually, I got used to adjusting to different rhythms and started responding to new melodies. No longer playing awkward notes, I was surprised as the music started to become more like-jazz.

Listening thus became an integral part of my life, even in nonmusical situations. I found myself listening carefully for the slightest details everywhere, recognizing the distinct rhythms during calculus lectures, Socratic seminars, and casual conversations. I now knew how to respond to these melodies; I spoke in vivid language, shouting to my heart's content with my solos in the guise of dialogue-but kept my ears open in order to listen for what the others have to say.

I may not have answered the prompt correctly. I'm also worried about grammar...any help is appreciated!

Undergraduate / Common App (Background): "I finally woke up after hitting the snooze button..." [5]

Any help is appreciated!

Common app: Some students have a background, identity, interest, or talent that is so meaningful they believe their application would be incomplete without it. If this sounds like you, then please share your story.

I finally woke up after hitting the snooze button for the third time, groggily walked to the dresser, grabbed random pieces of clothing, dressed rather haphazardly, and slumped down at the kitchen table as I mindlessly shoved toast into my half-open mouth. My pace quickened as I checked the clock; I brushed my teeth, tossed the homework into my backpack, packed lunch, hollered "Ikuyo!"-"let's go!"-to my sister, and raced to the car. It was the typical Saturday morning routine; as I let out a sigh of relief, the car began on its usual journey.

The rhythmic hum of the engine tickled my ears as I gazed out of the car window, the scenery changing from the familiar neighborhood to the suburban setting and veered into the highway. The sky painted its dark blue canvas into a soft red, the side mirror deflecting its vibrant rays. I felt nothing special, though; after all, I watched the same sunrise from the same car window on my way to Hoshuko-San Francisco Japanese School-every Saturday for 11 years.

I thought briefly about today's kanji test, traced the Japanese characters on the window with my finger, paused for a moment, and yawned. As I continued to stare out the car window, my consciousness slipped back to yesterday. My friend had asked me if I wanted to come over for a Friday night party- while I was tempted to say yes, I forced myself to smile and politely declined his offer. I often wondered how many times I made sacrifices for this car trip. It wasn't just precious time with friends I had to give up; I wanted to participate more in school events, sports, and extracurriculars. At the end, though, I never regretted making the choice to ride the car every Saturday morning.

I looked back at the many memories I created over the years of Hoshuko: My classmates, who sacrificed the precious Saturdays with me and how I realized how much I loved them when some of my best friends quit Hoshuko and bade farewell; my teachers, who made efforts to create the best environment for me to learn, which inspired me to try my best even at the worst of times; the cultural festival, in which I always ended up memorizing the script the night before the play, striving for that shared moment of exhilarating satisfaction with my class; and finally, the school trip to Japan, a volunteering mission for the Tohoku earthquake and tsunami, where I truly realized my role in the world as a Japanese who lives in the United States. Hoshuko had given me these invaluable experiences that shaped my identity, developing not only my Japanese skills but also as a person as well. It was more than just a school for me, after all; Hoshuko was a warm community where I was able to realize my other self, the Japanese part of me that eagerly looks forward to the next Saturday.

As the nostalgic images gradually faded away from my consciousness, I watched the other cars speeding down the highway, the passengers perhaps wanting to tell their own stories. I closed my eyes but kept my ears open, listening to them.

Any help is appreciated! Please be critical!
This is 532 words, by the way. Perhaps I can add more?