Undergraduate / "global issues and international relations" + "the face of Big Brother" - USC [4]

Describe your academic interests and how you plan to pursue them at USC.

Ever since my family had a TV, I have been a loyal friend of global issues and international relations (IR). With no exception, my parents watched news every meal we ate together. For 12 years, remarks of social critics and reporters have shaped my thinking pattern. I enjoy discussing with my mother the undertone of diplomats' words, a past-time my peers can never appreciate any fun about. Often do I take up the role of a foreteller, analyzing obscure connections among various actions to discover insidious goals. It is never arbitrary to conclude that listening and processing information about the globe is the very way I live. Yet, a real global citizen never shut him/her at home because the world is out there waiting to be explored. Thanks to my mother's sponsorship, I travel to many more countries than my peers do. Through journeys and summer camps, I become a questioner and thinker, and at the same time, I started to realize that the enthusiasm to indulge myself in the global issues and IR prompted me to take things seriously: not just travel and search for fun but study and examine them.

USC is a paradise for students who wish to explore facts about the world. As I first realized that USC has the most overseas students, I could not help imaging that interactions with global friends would be very important yet exclusive lessons that I might seldom learned so broadly in other universities. Also, USC's summer study in Geneva perfectly matched my future goal of being a senior consultant in an NGO. Furthermore, I plan to declare double majors with Economics. IR and Economics, I am sure, will together aid me in making contributions to the development of third world countries.

If there is any information you believe is relevant to our
consideration of you as an applicant that is not already contained
in your application, feel free to explain on an additional sheet.

I am a person who loves to connect different things. Once the image of an object is saved on my mind, an impulse in me will encourage comparison between the already-saved items and newly-encountering ones. Such situation often occurs when I create art work. I have taken untold pills all my life due to my mother's instruction, either for curing disease or for supplying nutrients. But pills, other than their normal function, can be wonderful media to express shapes and colors. Two years ago, I made 'Lisa Simpson in pill version'. I transformed her eyes, browse, necklace and dress from pure color to three-dimensional pieces, using my pills. As a matter of fact, for me art is everywhere to be found. What people create art with are not just painting brushes and paper but normal objects. Another work or mine is 'Big Brother in door version'. I was visualizing Big Brother's eyes when reading 1984. The psychological effect, in my view, was roughly the same with a cat eye's. Both of them watched people motioning, emotionlessly and unknown. I therefore began to decorate the front door of my house. Door painting was never easy since it deal with wood rather than paper. With the help from my uncle, who was an expert of indoor decoration, I finished one of my personally proudest projects in my life, that was, my door became the face of Big Brother. The central point of it was that I did change a common cat eye into Big Brother's eye ball. Many things do I resort to demonstrate in art form my idea from movies, literature and art itself. Soon after the pill work, I drew on miniature painting on a pill. Although it was not that satisfying as the scale limited my flexibility, I was thrilled to devote myself to discovering details, to creating art and to enjoying what was brought to my life. As I explore all of those aspects of life, they teach me to believe in myself and to maintain an open heart. I have been laughed for my absurd ideas, but luckily I just feel happy to do what I like. Moreover, I have been and will be looking around my life but not simply straightforward, since the more I watch, the more inspiration I gain, and the more open-minded I am.

Any critique??PLZ IT'S DUE TODAY...BIG THX!!

Undergraduate / Common app "Perfection, The Biggest Mistake" [3]

TOPIC OF YOUR CHOICE
Any critique/deletion/diction/grammar advice is welcomed! THX everybody!

Perfection, the Biggest Mistake
I examined the back of my right hand. What can I say? I need one centimeter more for every finger to make me into a pianist. My calluses destined that I will not become a ladylike woman. Even every piece of my finger nails is unique; they are the consequence of my constant fiddling and lack of polish. Skin is tolerable. But what really catch my eyes are scars in the middle. When I take a closer look, they expand so that the image of them keeps lingering on my mind. I have been waiting for twelve years, anticipating that time will restore me impeccable skin. It never does. However, I do wish the story behind those scars stays eternally in my heart.

One of my best friends came to our house downtown. The friendship between us had lasted since we were babies. My mom sometimes went to work and left me to her mom. Then two families moved to the same southern city, where both mothers held jobs in hospitals. There were so many similarities that I thought each reunion became the most blissful event in a whole year time. My dad was drunk that night. It was common sense that no one could persuade a drunken person to disobey his own wish. My mom cautioned him not to drive his motorbike anymore, fearing an unexpected accident would turn this happiness into disaster. My dad, on the other hand, insisted on driving me back home. I trusted him at that point. He had been my hero, my defender and my best friend. I never realized that I was risking my life on this unconscious man until the moment came that I found myself lying under an unknown motorbike. That was when I recalled my father's motorbike crashed with another one in a complete suburban darkness-no street lights. I tried to move a little. But my hands, when straining to feel anything, touched the working exhaust pipe and threw me into newfound pain. I had no idea what temperature meant then, and my only thought was that the heat burned me to death. Tears burst out immediately and never stopped. It was from the scream that my father detected where I was. No use any more. My perfect hand was exactly like a witch's hand: char, dark, wrinkled....

I had no desire to know who the other driver was, yet I blamed on my dad. If he had been everything to me before accident, he was then everything wrong to me. I even considered telling police to arrest him for driving after drinking alcohol. He was not my dad but one that always stimulated the nightmarish experience. I started to create distance between us, until one day when I received his call. Already nine years passed.

"Hello my little girl! What are you doing right now?" Something different emerged from his voice; I could tell he pretended to be still.

"Nothing. Where are you?" For years, I had been accustomed to talk to him in an I-don't-really-care manner.
"I am in the police station."
"What?" My wandering thoughts began to focus on his reply.
"Yes, I am in the municipal police station."
"Why? Are you kidding me?" I guessed the last thing I had ever expected was happening right then. He was arrested for some reason I did not know, and then confined in cold and damp cell and finally executed...

"Dad please don't go. What happened to you? Just tell me what happened!!"
Mute.

I had no way to subdue my feeling of losing him, of being abandoned by him, even of not seeing him at once. It was the last day of the world.

For nine years, I could not bear his barking toward my failing subjects, thinking that whatever he talked was rubbish. I intentionally sat at the farthest seat every time we three ate together. I begged my mom to attend parents' meeting at school rather than my dad. He was there, and it did not matter if he wasn't. But that call changed my entire view of him and taught me new perspective to see life and everything.

What huddled in the innermost alley of my heart was love. Such love, during my growth, was layered by my own pursuit of perfection. I imagined him perfect. I dreamt my life, including my hand, perfect. I longed for perfect grades, friends, books, tooth and chocolate. Yet once witnessing a sabotage of perfection, I filled my heart with disgust. Or the worse situation was OCD (Obsessive Compulsory Disorder). It took me a minute to write a perfect word on paper. I was forced to check the faucet again and again so that not a droplet of water would be wasted. My life, in all, was governed by an absurd idea of perfection.

That moment dawned on me that I was not at all a mighty god. I had been a human being all my life, and one of the most significant characteristic of this race is that every body is imperfect. I had to accept my dad, not because I denied the possibilities of a better dad but because I truly loved what he was, his good and bad. About my hand, I could ask him for apology, and that was it. Also, I started to like myself. Every part of my body is unique, however imperfect. Girls envied me because I never need curl my hair. It was natural. Moreover, I tried to convince myself of putting more effort in studies and activities without establishing a fossilized notion to gain success. Success is good, but I am now pleased to receive failure as well.

My dad spoke after a ten-second pause that felt like a century:" Yes, I am kidding."
"You scared me, dad!"

I hung off the phone. Walking to the window that faced the street, I watched people passing by with paces at different speed. The whole picture, consisting of plain man, common nature, normal houses and starry sky, was but already utopia. Later, I raised my hand and re-examined those scars. I kissed them and left for bed.

Undergraduate / "about pen coats!" - extracurricular activities Common short [3]

Any advice on the content, style, diction, grammar, deletion (now 198) is welcomed!!!! THX!
I am not sure if the topic is too weird, but that's exactly what I did in the past two years.

Please briefly elaborate on one of your extracurricular activities or work experiences in the space below (150 words or fewer)

"Anyone has used pen coats? Give me please!" People called me a learned rubbish collector because I gathered pen coats from my classmates every Friday afternoon in case they threw away at homes. From a young age, I have realized that daily accumulation amounted to unpredictable, striking consequence. Five or six pen coats at a time, this activity continued for over a year, and the initial box to contain my harvest evolved into a middle-sized carton. Usually after classifying them according to brands, I started walking to some patients' houses I met in mother's hospital to distribute my collection, or to local stores whose proprietors cared about budget. Refills alone, therefore, could satisfy their needs. I was not turning this project into an experiment of future financial independence. The core of whole consideration was plastic preservation. It is equally important as saving water, but few ever really taken seriously, not to mention noticing the smallest part-pen coats. Every time I saw mounds of pen coats at home, not only did I reflect stories that accompanied some of them, but also felt ineffable content and courage as what I had done would surely influence my life style in future.

Undergraduate / "about friendship and support to influence my little patients" - WELLESLEY [4]

I just wrote "why wellesley" essay.
PLZ BE CRUEL... I do need helpful advice. Thanks in advance!!
Here's the prompt:'When choosing a college, you are choosing an intellectual community and a place where you believe that you can live, learn, and flourish. To this end, the Board of Admission is interested in knowing your reasons for applying to Wellesley College and how Wellesley will help you to realize your personal and academic goals.' This response sohuld be limited to two paragraphs.

In a capacious classroom, lights were off except a shaft of them from the slideshow machine. "This painting..." Not waiting for the speaker to drop her words, a female student, with eyes grasping the speaker's attention, completed the supposed contents in automatic, quick and confident way. Twice. Thrice. The same situation continued. The speaker became overwhelmed by those voracious students, who either displayed highest passion for knowledge or poured deepest ridicule on their teacher. "This is Wellesley!" I told myself," But I can never find a second place where women are like energy sources." Mona Lisa's Smile opened the gate for me to explore facts about Wellesley, not the outer reputation but inner values. Now, Wellesley never encourages its students to be housewives, without dramatic up-and-downs of life and without pursuit of success. What does Wellesley prepare for the world, then? The answer that women can require decent jobs and high salaries only achieve the least part of whole. In my point of view, this brilliant school aims for female LEADERS. Shocked as I was, my heart trembled when I started to feel something uncompromised during my broadening understanding about the school. But later I knew that was exactly what I loved, since the spirit underlies my future goal of establishing the first specialized psychological care foundation for teenagers in China. From the status quo, I realize that to better teenager's psychological state will surely clash with benefits of educational authorities and Chinese parents' typical concerns. My dream can possibly fade away when I spend the most important four-year time in a relatively 'weak' university, but I am convinced of the impossibilities of the disappointing result if I choose to be with Wellesley. I simply will not yield to realistic pressure and unjustified interruptions.

It is a head-to-toe plan. My first step, the basis, is to transform myself into a rigorously trained psychology student. Wellesley's prestigious psychology department and club provide well-rounded courses and discussions, enabling students to tackle the same problem from multiple angles. Chinese teenager's problem of socializing with people, their shyness, is not a single issue of personality but the outcome of social, perceptive influences. Outside the circle of psychology is a larger one containing multidisciplinary study about sociology, economics, history and art. All of these subjects are vital, though the opposite on façade, for a huge project like running a foundation in China. Also, it is anti-science and devastating if a psychology student goes on to cure problems immediately after graduation. Wellesley's internship program has offered the double check of the quality of education. I have already been interested in occupying myself with works in Germaine Lawrence or children's hospital. There are definitely millions of people more or less like Holden Caulfield, experiencing the stereotyped or abnormal mental problems in China, and I wished to help from the very beginning of the plan. One of the ways to prevent clinical error is to strengthen my experiences through internship. Of all the steps toward final accomplishment, the premises are financial support and human resource. I appreciate Wellesley's effort in developing large alumnae association, which may be the channel to raise necessary money and gather excellent female companions to truly contribute to future generations in terms of mental health. At last, I want to 'publicize' my social life in Wellesley unity, meaning that I will use details and stories about friendship and support to influence my little patients. Warmth, after all, lightens people's hearts.

Some of my key word(leaders, uncompromised) coincides the movie line when I later watched. I am now really anxious about it since I don't want to change my original idea and don't want to be misunderstood either.

Undergraduate / "I'm too liberal; the word Poughkeepsie" - my 'why Vassar' essay [9]

Not many friends around me went to a liberal art school,so I wonder if anyone here can critique on my essay. A billion thanksss !!! Merry X'mas!

Prompt:HOW DID YOU LEARN ABOUT VASSAR AND WHAT ASPECTS OF OUR COLLEGE DO YOU FIND APPEALING?

"I am too liberal, maybe self-centered. I don't follow strictly-organized agenda, and probably not fit for many jobs." As I read through those sentences from Huang Hong again and again, I knew the middle-aged woman had conquered my heart- she was genuine, brave and witty; I liked her. Huang Hong, an alumna, acquainted me with Vassar, for which I still entertained murky and mixed feeling: so small that it was sunken in the forest of North East Coast liberal colleges. Vassar was nondescript for me except this lovely truth-speaker.

A former editor-in-chief of high school, I was unconsciously and even furtively inclined to compare the representative newspaper or magazines in every school. The inner psychological preparations any editor had for a piece of printed paper was that it was going to be an art work, rather than oil-painted packing material. So when I first had a rough glance of The Miscellany News (Misc) on a student's profile, I realized that there was 50% respect for the talent and hard work of all creators and another half jealous on my mind- Misc was artsy, high-end (at least it looked) and vintage. I was not too shy or scared to tell people what popped up in my head at instance-Misc was a lighter version of New York Times!

This feeling was weird. Vassar became something I wanted to challenge.
As I said above, Vassar, however with excellent newspaper press, still was a part of an idyllic country photo. I lived downtown for my entire life. So the abysm between me and Vassar existed, until I moved on my pace for more detailed information about my 'opponent'. Apparently, even from my comprehensive browse for reviews about Vassar, I saw mostly positive comments. Professors were always available to discuss ideas with students. They replied a question email in FIVE minutes! How I immediately remembered the long queue of inquisitive students, including me, in the teachers' offices in my school. The only thing they did not have was a secretary to be teachers needing appointments. Also, I soon discovered that I longed to meet all those nice and intelligent students in Vassar. Precisely, not just to say hello but to listen to everyone's stories: junior year study in Spain, internship of assisting Senator's campaign and fieldwork in Albany...Vassar seemed to me not only a place to draft a student's own story, but also a space of intermingling experiences and emotions. Having a roommate from Hawaii and asked her for native Hawaiian stories, enjoying guitar songs by a music fiend in Nashville, discussing plans to explore the beauty of Alps with someone from Switzerland. I started to imagine the kind of life knitted with global friends. I love it. I simply want to fill my eyes and ears in homey Vassar.

When mom scolded me for my first dates, I wondered how many loves people had would continue to be their loves. But now I can convince myself of the certainty that Vassar defends what students love. If nobody provides you with convenience, then create on your own! I can not help screaming out when I looked through the page of students' organization; it felt as a woman were given large amount of money to shop at the 5th Avenue. Anyhow, people have chances in Vassar to materialize their desire.

I am leaving the last paragraph for the most obvious attraction of Vassar- nature and architecture. I must confess that the foremost page of the website took my breath for a moment, and no words could march with my feeling then. Vassar lives in unworldly land since the surroundings is too beautiful to be true. I've made up my mind to visit the campus, whether accepted or not, during my future life in US. At last, I guess it is better to have an official reply for the word Poughkeepsie. Is it pronounced pole-kipsi? Or I may miss my way to Vassar.

Undergraduate / Is it OK to write about failures and changes? - UC (Listen to Silence) [6]

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?

Is it ok to write about failures and changes?