Undergraduate / DOUBLE MAJOR ART AND BUSINESS--U of M [3]

This is still a first draft, and I'm turning this in tomorrow!!! Please help correct/comment/completely destroy this essay!

Describe the unique qualities that attract you to the specific undergraduate College or School (including preferred admission and dual degree programs) to which you are applying at the University of Michigan. How would that curriculum support your interests?

The University of Michigan hit me like a shock of blue and maize light to the face. People say that when you are in love, you just know. Well I think that when you find the right college, you just know. And believe me, I know that U of M is the right college.

The University of Michigan's School of Art and Design is nothing short of perfect for me. I come from a line of artists--my grandfather was a pastry chef, my father a self-taught auto-mechanic, and my mother a do-it-yourself fixer-upper by every definition. Although my self-portraits looked like mutated potatoes until about last year, I could name the use of each wrench in my father's beaten-up toolbox by the age of six. Many drill bits, rolls of fabric, and honed mechanical skills since then, I have embarked on artistic endeavors that allow me to confidently say that I am ready to major in art.

The strong art program is not the only aspect that drew me to this university, however. U of M's BA/BBA dual degree program caught my eye and my interests as I browsed the university's website. I was introduced to business at a young age, as my uncle built chain of plumbing supply stores years before I was born. Because both entrepreneurial and artistic skills seem to run in my family, a marrying of the two would fit me like an Michigan-made glove.

I was sure that U of M was the perfect school when I realized that I had not only heard of some faculty members, but have looked up to them for years. I would be completely and utterly dumbfounded if I were to learn under Professor David Chung, whose artwork I first discovered while taking classes at Academy of Art University. His combination of different mediums, his 2001 black and white installation Stripmall, and his focus on Asian heritage takes me aback even after two, three, six, and fifty-six viewings of his work.

The element of U of M that sealed the deal for me was Professor Tom P. Lyon. I recall his name and his stance on sustainable technology from two classes: AP United States History, as a guest speaker lectured about policy, and AP Environmental Science, as we learned about sustainable business models. I would love to learn from Professor Lyon, to hear his innovative ideas right from the source. I hope to someday implement my knowledge into a business that can be passed down to future generations--a business that mixes my passion for art, my interest in environmental science, and my expected business skills.

My first reaction to U of M was one of awe at a picture found online. I saw its rustic building encompassed by a slew of orange and red leaves and thought, "You don't see that everyday in San Francisco," but I wished I did. The beauty of the school, the strength of the academics, and the array of esteemed professors makes U of M the perfect school. Like I said: when you know, you just know.

Undergraduate / "COMMUNITY OF PASSION"--UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN SHORT ANSWER [3]

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.

I need to cut this down by about 50-100 words =/ But I just can't decide what to cut! Please help!

Ernest Hemingway once wrote that without aficion, without passion, we are nothing. And I believe that. Throughout high school, I have found niches that allow me to excel as a person, as an artist, as a student, as a friend, and as a daughter. Without my found passions, I would be nothing.

You see, at Lowell High School, a majority of students are as competitive as I am: they strive for the best and get upset at anything less. Students here have been called "AP machines" by college admissions officers and quiet Asians by surrounding schools. If I had no aficion, I would find no reason to be anything other than another quiet girl at the back of a classroom. I would not want to discuss Henry James with my English teacher or conduct case studies on chemical preservatives in my free time. Without my passion, I would have only the label of "AP machine."

My parents taught me the importance of having passion: my father rebuilds muscle cars from scratch and my mother was my first volleyball coach. The aficion they passed down to me is apparent in every one of my friendships; my community is an amalgamation of personalities, colors, and traditions, but we all share one trait: a love for everything we do.

In this community, I take a role of both encourager and encouraged. The fervor this kinship shares allows me to inspire and to be inspired, to motivate and to be motivated all at once. Our many talents generate a constant flow of creativity: my friend's experience with painting inspires me to write a song, which inspires another friend to choreograph a dance, and I then use that dance in my fashion show to raise money for villages in India, which inspires another friend to volunteer for nonprofit organizations, which then inspires a painting--this cycle almost literally never ends. When I look around, I see football players battling mathletes with Pokémon cards and conservationists mingling with dancers to discuss calculus formulae, and I would not have it any other way. I choose not to be another AP machine. I choose not to be forgotten. I choose to have passion and to act upon these passions, and my community chooses the same.

Undergraduate / "SAN FRANCISCO GIANTS" personal statement for common app [7]

I decided to change a lot during this last week of self-editing (especially to the first paragraph)! Please feel free to make any corrections!

Prompt: Evaluate a significant experience, achievement, risk, or ethical dilemma and its impact on you.

Orange faux fur was everywhere. When I say everywhere, I mean it: in my hair, intertwined in the reticulations of my carpet, caught in the rivets of my jeans, and, I am pretty sure, stuck behind my molars. I was putting a band-aid on a finger pricked by a needle too swift for even my cat-like reflexes to dodge when I glanced at my limbless clay sculpture. At that moment, I realized I had gone crazy; instead of working on a sculpture due in just two weeks for an art exhibition, I sat in a pile of cut-up felt and fur, making a Giants bomber hat.

Although I have loved the San Francisco Giants ever since I tasted my first "J.T. Snow Cone" from a ball park food stand, this season I was the epitome of a zealot. My transformation from fan to fanatic began during a midnight car ride with my father early in the season. He, for the third time that week, went off about how much he wanted the Giants to win the World Series. I immediately tuned out until, seemingly out of nowhere, he told me that he was scheduled for another liver biopsy.

"What's wrong?" I demanded.
"The doctors don't know. That's why I want to see the Giants win; I may not get another chance t-"
"Stop! Can you please stop?"
"Sheryl, you're always so stressed. Life is short; simple as that. I could be here five years, or ten or fifty. But you don't know what will happen-no one does and no one can. So right now, I want the Giants to win it all."

I sat there a moment before I told him I loved him, and we drove home in silence.
My father taught me how to keep a game face during the most intense volleyball games, how to install a radio in a '69 Stingray, and how to figure out which shoe goes on which foot, but this was the best lesson of all: you don't know what will happen. Each moment must be cherished, even if it is just a smile after a home run or a spoonful of an overpriced snow cone with a pun for a name.

It seems foolish to spend years hoping a baseball team would win. The moments created by this hope, though, are the ones I will cherish for years to come: ice-cream after a win, tears after a loss, and perhaps most of all, post-game car rides with my dad, talking about baseball but always drifting off into our dreams and wishes and fears. These moments make big accomplishments worthwhile; the World Series means nothing to me without the foolishness of giving a high-five to the smelly man in the bleachers behind me or the childish elation of jumping on my bed. My high school endeavors amount to nothing without the hot chocolate breaks between late-night studying and games of slap-jack after endless days of testing.

This baseball season shaped my dreams in ways I never expected; I now understand that small details make big differences and seemingly insignificant moments can create the most significant memories. I aspire to always cherish details, to be the babysitter who remembers the preschooler's favorite crayon and the daughter who calls just to say "I love you." I do not know what will happen in my life, but as long as I make the most of every moment, no obstacle will seem too crushing, no blow too devastating, and no goal too ambitious. So thank you, San Francisco Giants, thank you.