Undergraduate / Williams- Look Through A Window "Books Not Bars" [3]

Imagine looking through a window at any environment that is particularly significant to you. Reflect on the scene, paying close attention to the relation between what you are seeing and why it is meaningful to you. Please limit your statement to 300 words.

NEED IT AS CLOSE TO 300 WORDS AS POSSIBLE!

"Books Not Bars"

I put my hands over my face, closed my eyes, and breathed deeply. I looked out the window one more time; unsurprisingly, the scene was still the same. I had dreams about this moment for two weeks. Literally, a thousand public school students stood in front of the Maryland State Department of Education on the side of Baltimore Street. I could see their hands completely numb with posters reading, "Youth Jobs Not Jails" and "Books Not Bars."

It was 10:05 in the morning. I, along with the ninety-seven students from my high school, that I organized to attend, were the last two buses to arrive. The cold March fourth morning, a national day of action to defend education, was sparked from a single protest, at the University of California, Berkeley. A year later, students in several cities around the world organized rallies, speak-outs, and demonstrations to decry budget cuts that directly hurt public-school programs. The Baltimore Algebra Project (BAP), a youth-led organization that focuses on tutoring in mathematics while promoting social justice, took the lead organizing in Baltimore.

As someone who is dedicated to social change, I felt euphoric, seeing young people my age who have the same desires as me. As the BAP's chair of the advocacy committee, I had sat through extensive strategy meetings, sent masses of emails, and spoke at events, in an effort to organize supporters. This day highlighted the fact that while Baltimore city schools struggle to find enough money for supplies, programs, and books, state legislators continue to fund the construction of new youth detention centers.

Before I exited the bus, I closed my eyes once more. On the other side of that window, was the justification for all of my knocking on doors and putting up fliers. I knew that even if we didn't get the response that we would have liked from Governor Martin O'Malley, the history that was being created- that I helped facilitate was enough.

After marching a mile, chanting while panting, police helicopters circled overhead, as we crowded in front of the Baltimore Juvenile Justice Center. Two hours went by; we had all thought we would be arrested by this time. We ended the rally with adrenaline and fire burning in everyone's body.

The next day, there were floods of emails asking, "What's going to happen next?" And once again, I felt euphoric.

Undergraduate / "Afro-Psych-Ology; A Place of Warmth amid Cold; Uniquely Implausible" Why Swarthmore! [3]

Question: Why Swarthmore?
Any sentences that could be omitted or shortened?

(Want A Central Title Thats Creative)

Afro-Psych-Ology

Afropsychology, as defined by C. S. Belser, future afropsychologist: the science of the mind and behavior of black people across various societies.

An individualized major in "afropsychology" would allow me to explore the history, culture, economic conditions, and psychological understanding of Black people in Africa, the Americas, and elsewhere in the world. I have always had the desire to explore psychology and sociology, while remaining conscious that I want to dedicate my life and career to understanding and facilitating social change. Moreover, I want to examine the psychological differences of black people through the study of sociology. For example, what are the different behaviors and mind patterns of black people who live in Baltimore or London or Zimbabwe? Or, how do different social classes and their stratifications affect the behaviors of black people in their society? I know Swarthmore is the foundation for getting me one step closer to answering my many questions.

At Swarthmore College, I will have the ideal setting and support in assisting me in studying what I call "afropsychology." The range of courses between the Black Studies, Psychology, and Sociology departments at Swarthmore are just what I am looking for. From Race and Ethnicity in the United States to Psychology of Language to Fictions of Black America, there are phenomenal courses for me to take advantage of. In particular, I am very enthusiastic to meet and interact with Professor Sarah S. Willie-LeBreton. I have read her book, Acting Black: College, Identity, and the Performance of Race, three times since I received it as a birthday gift. Reading about her experience on attending a predominately white university, the effect it had on her behavior, and about the "awkward conversations and staring eyes" she encountered, inspired me even more to pursue "afropsychology."

A Place of Warmth amid Cold

Once over lunch with three Swatties, they described Swarthmore as, "not just a school but truly a home away from home." As someone who values relationships, I know that is the kind of college community for me.

Months later, I visited Swarthmore, thinking it wouldn't feel different than other colleges I visited. During the campus tour, I got to see the outdoor classroom chalkboard, the different phrases carved into the walls of buildings, and the Latin labeled trees, shrubs, and flowers. Walking into Sharples, I was pleasantly overwhelmed by the dimmed lighting and intimate atmosphere. It was days before midterms, but people took the time to relax with friends and faculty. These were things I hadn't seen anywhere else. Even though it was windy and cold, there was this warmth over my body from the campus. I finally understood the home that the Swatties I spoke with earlier had described.

Uniquely Implausible

I loved that I didn't have just an interview, but a conversation with Assistant Dean Jim Sawyer. As we talked about a day when students were conducting a realistic simulation of an Israeli checkpoint, a hundred different similar simulations popped in my head.

"What about simulations of the Chinese sweatshops or the Kalandia refugee camps or the journey a citizen must take to get clean water in Ghana?" I asked.

"We'd say go for it!" Mr. Sawyer replied.

On my ride back to Baltimore, I kept replaying my interview with Mr. Sawyer in my head. Even though he is not a student, the excitement that filled his face when he talked about the student's passions and the faculty's full support made me want to be a Swattie even more.

The idea of taking classes with scholars I admire, gaining knowledge on psychological inquiries, learning with and from people my age, as well as collaborating with an administration that encourages students to ask questions and seek answers, seems quite implausible. And like my tenth grade English teacher always said, "When something's implausible- it's one of the best things ever. Do not sleep on it." Swarthmore College is something uniquely implausible. To me it's one of the best things ever. I will not sleep on it.

Undergraduate / Why "Afropsychology" Major- Johns Hopkins- Student-Designed Major [13]

Hey, it's kind of urgent. This is the "What major do you choose?" essay. The limit is suppose to be 250 words, lol, so I definitely need help. Anything that seems unnecessary or should I just take a chance sending in this 675 word essay?

"Your search - afropsychology - did not match any documents." The spring break of my junior year, I spent my time "googling" college majors. I knew that somewhere, at some institution, there was a department and curriculum that was exactly what I was looking for.

Afropsychology: the science of mind and behavior of African Americans in various societies. I can vividly remember that day when this seemingly perfect major popped into my head. A thousand plus young people, with police helicopters circling overhead, on that cold March fourth morning, stood outside the Baltimore Juvenile Justice Center chanting while panting, "Books not bars!"

The Baltimore Algebra Project (BAP), a youth-led organization, which focuses on tutoring in mathematics, while promoting social justice, took the lead organizing in Baltimore. As a math literacy worker, an advocate, and the secretary of BAP, I have sat through extensive strategy meetings, made hundreds of phone calls, and spoke at what seemed like hundreds of events, in an effort to organize supporters for March 4th. This national day of action to defend education, made it an opportunity to highlight the fact that while Baltimore City schools struggle to find enough money for supplies, programs, and books, state legislators continue to fund the construction of new youth detention centers.

The next day, there were floods of emails asking, "What's going to happen next?" With everyone enthusiastically waiting, my one question remained, "What are the solutions so we won't need another national day of action to defend education?"

I am going to college wanting to answer this question. I have this urge to understand how my city and nation got to this particular status quo. I have always been intrigued to understand the human mind, human behavior, and why people act and do the things they do. Working with the BAP has guided me into silhouetting who I want to be, what I want to study, and discovering what I'm truly passionate about. And while I still have this desire to explore psychology and sociology, it is the consciousness that I also want to dedicate my life and career to understanding and aiding African Americans.

Intending to have a student-designed major, I know that my courses of study will give me the opportunity to explore every aspect I want to. Moreover, I want to examine the psychological differences of black people through the study of sociology. For example, what are the different behaviors and mind patterns of black people who live in Baltimore or London or Zimbabwe? Or, how do different social classes and their stratifications affect the behaviors of black people in their society?

At Johns Hopkins, I have the ideal setting and support in assisting me in studying "afropsychology." As a Baltimore native, Hopkins gives me the opportunity to continue organizing in my community, while receiving astounding academic knowledge "right out my back door." The range of courses between the Africana, Psychology, and Sociology departments at Hopkins are just what I am looking for to study at an institution. From The Power of Place: Race and Community in East Baltimore to Behavioral Endocrinology to Class, Stratification and Personality, Hopkins offers great courses for me to take advantage of. The opportunity to have classes that analyze the community of Baltimore, as well as other areas, is exactly what I seek in my college experience; getting me one step closer to answering my many questions.

Undergraduate / "Acting Inanely" Significant Experience, Common App [2]

A little about myself: I'm an African American at a Baltimore City charter school. Most of my school's faculty are too busy to respond or help me so I'm counting on others to help me. Thanks!

---Evaluate a significant experience, achievement, risk you have taken, or ethical dilemma you have faced and its impact on you.

Words In Red I Want To Focus, Are They Awkward? Need To Omit? Word Choice?

Here I was in one of the most beautiful cities in the world acting inanely . I realized how fortunate I was and I valued the culture around me, but for reasons unknown I was not grateful. Yes, I was in one of the most beautiful cities in the world and I just stood there like a statue.

"Please don't make me look stupid again," my teacher said in her monotone, but I could see the anger in her eyes. "OK," I plainly replied.

Just two minutes before, it was 8:28 in the morning, and I was sitting on the lobby floor with the rest of the students who were part of the tour group. It was only the second day, but my friends from Baltimore and I made it our mission to get to know everyone. We embraced the lack of familiarity in the faces of those around us. We were a group of loud, laughing students from the inner-city, and loved this experience.

I remembered that I had left the flat-iron on in my hotel room and thought it probably wasn't a good idea to burn down the hotel in a foreign country. I stopped my conversation with Tom, an Asian student from Michigan, asked him to watch my iPod that was charging, and rushed up stairs. During the two minutes of my rushing to my room and back down to the lobby, the mood in the room had transformed. When I got off the elevator, all mouths were silent, and all eyes were on me.

"Please teach your girls about safety." The tour chaperone handed my iPod to my teacher. I live in one of the most dangerous cities in America. I have lived seventeen years mastering safety. I know safety. I gave an apologetic look to my teacher, which she acknowledged briefly.

This was only day two of our trip and I had already made my teacher "look stupid." I thought to myself, "I have to do everything in my power to not let anything like this happen again. What can I do?" I just listened to my iPod on the subway so I wouldn't have to engage in conversation. I wore neutral colored clothes so I wouldn't draw attention to myself. I admired the statues at the museum from a distance so I wouldn't hold the group up. I was a statue. If I was silent I couldn't make myself or anyone else "look stupid," right?

Two days of my statuette actions went by. We were at dinner, and there weren't enough seats at the tables for our 8-person Baltimore group, so I volunteered to sit with another group. After all, I did not want to be a part of any confusion. I sat with the Michigan group, didn't complain, and waited for dinner. During my wait, the table dialogue went from informal to intense. Tom began debating the "minority-side perspective" to a bunch of spoiled daddy's girls. I'm not labeling them; they explicitly said they were on this trip because, "I'm a spoiled daddy's girl and I just wanted to come." I stared, picking at my cuticles, to avoid engaging in the conversation.

"What do you think, Cortnie?" Tom asked.

"Oh, I really wasn't listening," I replied, still trying to avoid it.

"Do you think only people who have money and work hard deserve to travel to places like this?" Tom just wouldn't let me pick my cuticles in peace.

"I didn't have the money, I had to work hard, and I definitely deserve to travel," I said heatedly but avoided any confrontation by hastening to the bathroom. By the time I got back, the food was there and the conversation had changed. I survived it.

After dinner, I was on the subway, listening to my iPod, still thinking about that heated table talk. Our 8-person Baltimore group had fundraised like never before. We organized skating and comedy nights, sold snacks at school, and sent letters to everyone we knew. I raised that money, I worked hard, and I deserved to be there. At that moment, I realized we had all worked way too hard for me to walk around like a zombie in a foreign country.

Her hair muddled, face crimson red, and eyes blood-shot puffy; my teacher sat alone quiet and poignant at the opposite side of the subway. I stared at the gloom in her eyes for the rest of the ride. Friends who were furious at her and envious of us, was recaptured in my mind. She worked the hardest of us all and I was walking around like I didn't care. Later that night, I went to her hotel room.

"The bottom line, there's no explanation. Trust me, tomorrow will be different," I assured her.

I woke up the next day, wore a bright purple dress, and left my iPod in my room. I got on the subway, had a lovely conversation with an absolute stranger, and was completely mindful of safety. My own insecurities ruined three wonderful days. I forgot how lucky I was to be in this amazing city and how most of my friends will never travel past these small Baltimore white lines. Over a simple dinner, I had learned I was so focused on not being a disappointment that I ended up still "looking stupid".

Up until now, I have survived with a fear of disappointment. My disappointment anxiety has vanished. I live my life knowing I deserve everything I work hard for. I did not return to my normal self; I became better.

Finally free, I stood at the top of the city, dumbfounded . This was not Paris, Tennessee with a replica of the Eiffel Tower. I was in Paris, France, with the real one!