Undergraduate / Hairs and Patience - UC Prompt #2 (Unusual but meaningful) [6]

Rough and incomplete

What is your intended major? Discuss how your interest in the subject developed and describe any experience you have had in the field-such as volunteer work, internships and employment, participation in student organizations and activities-and what you have gained from your involvement.

I once grew a beard that rewarded me with more insight towards tolerance than I ever would have imagined. Born into a conservative Iranian family and raised as an open-minded American, my moral judgments were always conflicting between the two. In one hand, I had the freedom of expression; in the other, I had the inhibition of change. Fed up feeling of powerless, I decided to retaliate with a 6-month facial hair project. Through this, I wanted to challenge preconceived notions about facial hair and carry out the respect and admiration that beards deserved.

Times had changed, and so had my family's tolerance with facial hair. It was during the Iranian Revolution that my parents had fled for America where they eventually abandoned all ties with Iranian politicians, including the infamous beards they wore. As a result, the idea of having their Iranian-American child growing a beard seemed culturally and socially offensive. At times they were dispiriting, often comparing me to that of their pre-American leaders. Yet, as time grew, so did their admiration to this cause. Although my father had once attempted to bribe me out of it altogether, I reminded him that my intentions were strong and immovable.

Undergraduate / Fixating on Curiosity (UC Prompt #1) [5]

Rough copy, final not included yet

1) What is your intended major? Discuss how your interest in the subject developed and describe any experience you have had in the field -- such as volunteer work, internships and employment, participation in student organizations and activities -- and what you have gained from your environment.

I have always considered curiosity as the cornerstone to my interest in psychology. At the age of four, my inquisitive behavior became all too apparent. The typical ten-minute drives to school soon became an epoch of wonder and fascination from the plentiful world around me. Fortunately, my all-knowing mother was keen to answer such questions of why the sky was blue and the grass was green. Yet, as childhood quickly faded, adolescence only magnified these complications even further. Bombarded by the high-school pressures of finding and searching for one's own self, I decided to start from the bottom-defining my name. Being uncertain of such, I sought out to seek certainty from my mother much like before. With a grin and sprinkling of admiration on her wise-old face, she exclaimed, "A good listener." Baffled by disbelief, I hesitantly chuckled at first but then accepted it with a sigh of relief. As the years progressed, so did my methods of interacting with others. Conversations with would-be acquaintances soon began to involve a pen and paper. The reason for this was due to my unusual fixation on curiosity. Like that of a psychologist, I wanted to interview people and better understand them and myself as well. At first, people were reluctant to participate, but eventually their doors had opened. As a result, I realized that I was finding personal joy through my empathy with others. Still, little could I have prepared for one such story that would ultimately bring irreversible wisdom and clarity to my imminent attitude on pursuing the study of human behavior.

About a year ago I met a woman who singlehandedly revamped my vision of becoming a mental health practitioner. She, like most of the interviewees before, was open to the whole idea of elaborating about oneself. My first impressions of her were admirable; she carried the conversation with a great deal of enthusiasm, which proved to be mutually entertaining. In spite of this, I began to notice something unusual about her; she wore a great deal of bracelets. Being the curious George I was known to be, I inquired her regarding my observation. Without a word, she disrobed the jewelry from her arms, exposing her razor-scarred wrists in all shame and truth. After a moment of silence, it turned out that she was experiencing an identity crisis and felt disconnected with everyday life. In a world where glorification is often placed upon the mentally strong, many fall subject to a self-sabotaging attitude that often undermines their true human potential. It was this particular psychological intricacy that had placed my curiousness alongside my fascination with human behavior. Much like a social scientist would do, I began to formulate analytical types of questions that would hopefully shed some light on the causation to this quandary. In essence, through scientific reasoning and exploration, I wanted to better understand the complexities of human nature and help expand civilization's integration with the concept of self and others.