Writing Feedback / Short Essay: "Stereotypes result in self-fulfilling prophesies" [3]

Prompt: "Stereotyped beliefs have the power to become self-fulfilling prophesies for behavior."

Note-The tone appears a little less personal/stern in this essay, but I purposely did this because my common app essays are about humanitarian efforts and my music ( A flowery essay)

Stereotypes reflect the innate human tendency to conveniently group objects based on certain arbitrary characteristics. By constructing prototypes of different ethnicities, humans attempt to neatly organize their world into proper and improper, accepted and unacceptable, intelligent and idiotic, and a host of other groups. In reality, the complex variances between individuals are far too subtle and diverse to accommodate a stereotype.

I view stereotypes as disrespectful not only to stereotyped groups, but also to society as a whole. A stereotype destroys an individual's true characteristics and replaces them with an inaccurate set of beliefs constructed by other individuals. Unfortunately, viewing a group from a biased perspective may actually elicit the stereotyped response, causing a self-fulfilled prophesy which pours fuel into the fire.

From a global perspective, the saddest part about stereotypes is that they mar the beautiful diversity of the human canvas. Social diversity allows people to explore, grow, and mature by examining the beliefs and characteristics of other individuals and groups. Regrettably, stereotypes have stymied individuals from truly understanding each other, and the extraordinary qualities of many individuals have gone unnoticed under the crushing weight of the stereotype. Once people believe that a certain group can accurately be characterized through a stereotype, they no longer have any incentive to learn what differentiates the members of that group. The stereotype, which destroys singularity under a suffocating blanket of vague, inaccurate generalizations, promotes a distorted view of reality that is hard to erase from society.

I firmly believe that breaking stereotypes requires a liberal and open mind. Approaching people without preconceptions will ensure that their true selves show through without the hindrance of the self-fulfilling prophesy. Thus, I always strive to maintain a broad, unassuming mindset because it allows me to understand and appreciate diversity and not the stereotypes that permeate society.

Undergraduate / Imaginary Prompt: Tough Essay - environment that is particularly significant to you. [2]

Prompt: 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.

Legendary Carnatic vocalist Ariyakudi clears his throat, smiles at the eager audience, and waits as the accompanying violinist and percussionists tune their instruments to perfect pitch. A large, coarse stone tablet serves as a stage, and hundreds of eager listeners, dressed in simple white loin cloths, flock to the sandy fields and sit down cross-legged. In spite of his stature, Ariyakudi humbly wears the same, simple white clothes. To him, race, class, and social status were frivolous next to the grandeur of music, and that is precisely why wealthy landlords sat next to destitute paupers in the audience. One poor woman sits there, thankful because Ariyakudi has graciously refused to charge poor villagers for attending the concert. She is none other than my great-grandmother.

The sun's scarlet eyes stare intently, and Ariyakudi salutes him with a brisk, invigorating piece. The sun, seemingly satisfied with the rendition, retreats downwards, leaving behind a carroty glow in the sky. The concert is delightfully assorted, featuring timeless classics, innovative songs, and even a few of Ariyakudi's own brilliant compositions. As the cold night air slowly descends, the master sings the soulful masterpiece Jagododharana with such moving devotion that nature sheds her own crisp tears.

I have vicariously lived this fascinating experience through the evergreen recountals of my grandmother, who was a teenager when the maestro sung this concert in 1941. Even when I listen to the few coarse, muffled recordings of Ariyakudi that are available today, his music conveys a revolutionary spirit of exploration, devoted commitment, and modesty, the gemstones of his character as both a musician and a person.

Those are the qualities I hope to cultivate as a musician, and more importantly, as a human being.

Undergraduate / Illustrate your diversity - how to smoothen a risky/unconventional common app essay! [3]

College App prompt, paraphrased: Illustrate your diversity

Hello,

I crafted this essay to stand out from the generic applicant pool but feel that it is a little too risky to actually use, since it may come off as gimmicky. Please suggest changes, especially on how to smoothen out the ending.

PLEASE BE BRUTALLY HONEST with your feedback.

THE ESSAY:

Hillsborough, NJ: 5 A.M. Eastern Time: It is a chilly, sleep-inducing December morning during Christmas break. The city shivers, tosses, and snuggles in cozy comforters in an attempt to preserve body heat, but I alone am drifting in a tropical sea. The steamy waters are implausibly spotless and the warmth cleanses my soul.

I did not manage to sneak a vacation to the Florida Keys. There are no tropical zones in New Jersey. Still yet, I don't even have access to a heated swimming pool.

I am floating in the warm bliss of Hindustani music, an art form that makes a performer forget everything but the divine sweetness of sound alone.

I distinctly remember my first formal lesson when I was 7. My short, chubby self sits on the floor, fidgeting with his toes as his teacher, Pandit Jasraj (or "Sir"), attempts to teach a geetham, the first lesson in the Hindustani syllabus. He stares aimlessly around the room and pays no attention. The class is over.

For four years, nothing changes as far as music is concerned. In school, however, I face new challenges and academic pressures, and I work solely in order to avoid punishment and censure from adults. Knowing that no one would blame me for ignoring Hindustani, I still slack off lazily, but Sir never scolds me.

Surprised at his seemingly infinite tolerance, one day, I bluntly ask him why he remains patient towards me.
He responds wryly, his mostly neutral tone accented with tints of sarcasm and discontent: "Hindustani is not a chore or responsibility, so I can't punish you based on your indolence. It is a divine, rejuvenating art and can only be pursued by those who are innately passionate about it. Why should I pressure you?"

I was speechlessly embarrassed. From that day onwards, I practiced feverishly, realizing and regretting the valuable opportunity that I had squandered over the last 4 years. Hindustani became my greatest mentor, sculpting my idle lethargy into diligence, creativity, and passion. My swelling fervor for music rapidly flooded my mind and flowed into every channel of my life. My activities, which were once operant-conditioned chores to gain rewards or avoid punishment, now became positive opportunities that I willfully and joyfully pursued.

Ironically, learning more only made me realize how much I still didn't know. With over 5,000 years of development, Hindustani features a cavernous selection of "ragas" (thousands of distinct melodic scales) and "talas" (various rhythmic patterns) that ultimately culminate in "Manodharma": Spontaneous, onstage improvisation of a particular raga and tala. The courage, creativity, and critical thinking necessary for Manodharma have fueled my friendship with Novelty, a friend who has driven me to invent new ragas, market businesses by throwing out pamphlet-taped Frisbees, and cook coconut chutney-stuffed crępes.

The early morning is still unpleasantly chilly and most people are comfortably wrapped in their comforters and bed shawls.
I, on the other hand, have left the soothing, musical waters of Hindustani to tell my tale and must now return.

Undergraduate / "musical waters of Hindustani" - Gutsy/Unconventional Common App Essay [4]

Any suggestions welcome, especially with the conclusion.

Hillsborough, NJ: 5 A.M. Eastern Time: It is a chilly, sleep-inducing December morning during Christmas break. The city shivers, tosses, and snuggles in cozy comforters in an attempt to preserve body heat, but I alone am drifting in a tropical sea. The steamy waters are implausibly spotless and the warmth cleanses my soul.

I did not manage to sneak a vacation to the Florida Keys. There are no tropical zones in New Jersey. Still yet, I don't even have access to a heated swimming pool.

I am floating in the warm bliss of Hindustani music, an art form that makes a performer forget everything but the divine sweetness of sound alone.

I distinctly remember my first formal lesson when I was 7. My short, chubby self sits on the floor, fidgeting with his toes as his teacher, Pandit Jasraj (or "Sir"), attempts to teach a geetham, the first lesson in the Hindustani syllabus. He stares aimlessly around the room and pays no attention. The class is over.

For four years, nothing changes as far as music is concerned. In school, however, I face new challenges and academic pressures, and I work solely in order to avoid punishment and censure from adults. Knowing that no one would blame me for ignoring Hindustani, I still slack off lazily, but Sir never scolds me.

Surprised at her seemingly infinite tolerance, one day, I bluntly ask him why she remains patient towards me.
He responds wryly, his mostly neutral tone accented with tints of sarcasm and discontent: "Hindustani is not a chore or responsibility, so I can't punish you based on your indolence. It is a divine, rejuvenating art and can only be pursued by those who are innately passionate about it. Why should I pressure you?"

I was speechlessly embarrassed. From that day onwards, I practiced feverishly, realizing and regretting the valuable opportunity that I had squandered over the last 4 years. Hindustani became my greatest mentor, sculpting my idle lethargy into diligence, creativity, and passion. My swelling fervor for music rapidly flooded my mind and flowed into every channel of my life. My activities, which were once operant-conditioned chores to gain rewards or avoid punishment, now became positive opportunities that I willfully and joyfully pursued.

Ironically, learning more only made me realize how much I still didn't know. With over 5,000 years of development, Hindustani features a cavernous selection of "ragas" (thousands of distinct melodic scales) and "talas" (various rhythmic patterns) that ultimately culminate in "Manodharma": Spontaneous, onstage improvisation of a particular raga and tala. The courage, creativity, and critical thinking necessary for Manodharma have fueled my friendship with Novelty, a friend who has driven me to invent new ragas, market businesses by throwing out pamphlet-taped Frisbees, and cook coconut chutney-stuffed crępes.

The early morning is still unpleasantly chilly and most people are comfortably wrapped in their comforters and bed shawls.
I, on the other hand, have left the soothing, musical waters of Hindustani to tell my tale and must now return.

Undergraduate / Heartfelt Common App Activities/Short Essay on volunteering; review [5]

In 150 Words or less, describe one of your activities in further detail:

VERSION ONE:

During the Global Music Festival I organized for the Emeritus Assisted Living Center, I sang the soulful Carnatic song Endaro, a composition honoring great individuals. As I finished, I felt frail hands softly tap at my shoulders. The sincerest of smiles greeted me.

Howard, a 90-year old textbook of human life, was one of my closest friends at the center. Each visit to the center invoked colorful and vivid stories from the vast annals of his life; closing my eyes, I would vicariously imbibe his rebellious life as a Beatnik or his proud national service during World War 2. We rafted through the ocean of life together, and whenever I had doubts, I could always expect the cogent advice that only a true intellectual could produce. Sadly, Howard passed away from cardiac arrest last year.

That weekend, I sang Endaro to personally honor one of the boldest, sincerest, and wisest men that I had known.

VERSION TWO (Which I like better):

During the Global Music Festival I organized for the Emeritus Assisted Living Center, I sang the soulful Carnatic song Endaro, a composition honoring great individuals. As I finished, I felt frail hands softly tap at my shoulders. The sincerest of smiles greeted me.

Howard, a 90-year old textbook of human life, was one of my closest friends at the center. Each visit to the center invoked colorful and vivid stories from the vast annals of his life; closing my eyes, I would vicariously imbibe his rebellious life as a Beatnik or his proud national service during World War 2. Whether we talked while playing Bingo or eating Dessert, our heartfelt conversations helped me mature as an individual and understand the true value of close human relationships.

The fateful weekend that Howard passed away, I sang Endaro to personally honor the compassionate soul who, in 3 years, transformed a callow boy into an attentive and empathetic adolescent.