Undergraduate / 'Educate and don't end up like me' - QuestBridge Biographical [2]

We are interested in learning more about you and the context in which you have grown up, formed your aspirations and accomplished your academic successes. Please describe the factors and challenges that have most shaped your personal life and aspirations. How have these factors caused you to grow? (800 word limit)

Sorry this is so long, but please look over it and make any suggestions you deem fit. Thanks very much in advance.

"Whatever you do, Paul, make sure that you complete your education to the fullest, and don't end up like me. I hate myself every day for not listening to my parents as a child." This was typical of the guilt invoking statements that my parents would throw at me whenever I began to slack off. My parents would always encourage me never to give up, to always pursue the highest standards of excellence. They would provide me with everything I needed to succeed in the strict academic environment that was my elementary school. Money didn't seem to be a problem then, since I simply didn't realize how little I needed at the time. When I entered middle school, I began to develop my passion for learning, and quickly became eager to traverse above and beyond my school's curriculum. I began going to the school's library and picking up as many books about particle physics and chemistry as possible, but these were simply not enough. They were at a middle school level and I gleaned nothing from them. I desperately felt the need to understand the universe and how it worked. I asked my parents if I could get onto Amazon and buy a few physics books. My parents didn't seem too excited, but they wanted to make sure that nothing got in the way of furthering my education. I was young. I didn't understand the pain that I was causing them.

As I entered high school, my passion for learning only grew, and the deficit of materials in libraries only exacerbated by efforts. High school only brought with unlimited dues and fees. Clubs, contests, labs, all required payment. Our family did not qualify for any sort of Fee Waiver. Our income was barely too high and the fact that I was an only child didn't help either. My dad paid for all of the extra competitions that I wished to attend; he paid for all of the supplies that I needed for classes. He never complained about any of it. But I was older now. I could sense that the endless costs were straining our already precarious financial situation. I wasn't sure what I should do, and I couldn't go to my parents about it because they would never admit that money was a problem when education was on the line. I was at a loss for ideas, and it soon developed into a loss for my passions. I stopped ordering books; I stopped going to competitions; I stopped joining clubs that would cost money. Those were the dark ages of my high school career, a time of nothing in life but the bare essentials. No joy, no interests. I tried not to think about college. It seemed like a lost dream at the time. If my parents couldn't easily pay for a few physics books, how could I even consider college?

Then one day during my Junior Year, my life was returned to me when my physics teacher showed us a Classical Physics lecture from MIT. I listened in awe as Walter Lewin explained the most complicated facets of the universe in the most elegant way possible. That day I went home and, slowly, I felt my old passions rushing back to me as I went through more of his lectures. I learned about electricity and magnetism, waves and optics, and quantum mechanics. But, there was still the problem of finances. I could not satisfy my lust for knowledge without books. Almost immediately, my mother came into my room with a letter by some organization called "QuestBridge." I read the letter, and almost just threw it away right there. An organization that can offer a full ride to the nation's top universities? Obviously too good to be true..., but I decided to research it. And here I am today, writing this essay.

I became wiser over time. I did whatever I could to save money wherever possible. I would print out papers at school rather than at home, I would try to get textbooks from other people or places rather than pay for them. But that day, I realized that I could pursue my dreams and passions without fear of fiscal issues. I could attend college essentially wherever I wanted now, something that I never even dreamed could be possible. My outlook on life changed that day, and now I can only hope that the values and lessons I learned along the way will help me to shape my aspirations and remain excited for the challenges that lie ahead.

Undergraduate / Growing up with stereotypes -- common app essay [NEW]

Any suggestions would be appreciated. Thanks in advance

Final tossup. Last round of the tournament. Up against the strongest team in the state. Tied. Have to get this question. Five thousand dollars and winning Quiz Bowl on TV on the line. "Name the poem..." Oh, a literature question! Teammates don't seem happy. We don't have a literature person on our team. "...that contains the line 'Rage, rage against the dying...'" *Buzz*. My signal lights up. My teammates sigh in despair. Why is the science guy buzzing on a literature question? Nevertheless, I proceed. "Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night." Infinitely long pause... "Correct! Hume-Fogg wins!"

Has your personality ever been decided for you? Not because of who you are, but because of how others expect you to be? Has your life ever been guided by stereotypes or biases? As an Indian American, others always expect me to live my life guided by traditional Indian standards. Throughout elementary school, I had been reared as a test taking machine, able to answer questions at a glance, getting perfect scores on standardized tests. I was looked upon as a prodigy. But is it worth it? Must my passion for the humanities always be looked upon with confusion?

Even in middle school, I began experiencing types of situations that would plague me for years. People beseeched me for help on math and science homework, but refused my help on English or history homework. They all expected me to be the typical Indian kid, learning calculus years ahead, and ignoring all aspects of the humanities. I was an oddity to them. Despite this negativity, the humanities remained a passion. Whenever my parents took me anywhere, rather than pouring over a math textbook, I would furtively steal glances at my current favorite fiction, tucked into the outer pocket of my backpack.

In addition to my love for English literature, it is with my classical studies that I truly identify. During lunch I can often be seen in a corner eagerly translating The Aeneid or taking delight in the beauty of Catullus' poetry. Within these works, I often find elements of my life. Aeneas's struggle to find a sense of identity and acceptance by others is truly relatable. Just as he eventually kills Turnus and founds Rome by holding true to his piety, I am confident that I will similarly achieve my goals as I hold true to my passions.

My appreciation for the humanities extends beyond school. Quiz Bowl is my primary extracurricular activity, and I am expected to understand the basic tenets of literature and history. Rather than being treated with perplexed looks, I am congratulated when I am able to immediately discern the author of a work given only its protagonist. Although my primary role on the team is that of "science guy," I still get that characteristic adrenaline rush when I answer a literature question, thinking back to those car rides and lunch times spent going against the expectations set out for me and continuing to shape my own interests.

Undergraduate / 'more in-depth learning process' - Optional Harvard Essay [2]

"Your cells were contaminated. I got rid of them. Try again." This was the series of hope-depriving statements repeated to me many times during my seven month lab internship. I was working at a neuroscience lab at Vanderbilt University. I was attempting to culture neurons on graphene coverslips as a first step to showing that graphene based scanning of neurons would yield scans of a much higher resolution than traditional scanning methods. It sounded easy enough when I was first assigned the project, but, as I would soon find out, experimental science never goes right the first time, or even the first ten times.

My first challenge was to quickly learn how to isolate the hippocampus, an extremely slim piece of tissue, from a baby mouse's brain smaller than a dime. This involved a series of delicate surgical procedures that normally involves months, if not years, of training. Despite the facts that I did not receive this training and that I was a high school student, my lab members quickly expected me to be able to isolate the hippocampus on my own and perform the cell culture. Despite my pretensions, this was to be the easiest aspect of my time at the lab.

Given that isolated neurons lack a functioning immune system, even the slightest bit of bacterial contamination would result in complete neuronal death. For this reason, the most stringent sterilization procedures were put into effect. Having never been forced to work in a confined space, I often made careless errors in keeping all of my materials sterile. After each overnight incubation, I would rush to the storage chamber and examine my cells, only to find that symbolic cloudy mist that meant that I had yet again failed.

My PI refused to let me give up, and occasionally monitored me to ensure that I was adhering to all protocols. Eventually I became accustomed to the stringent procedures and I knew that I wouldn't fail the next time. I harvested the neurons, treated them, and plated them onto coverslips, just as my PI had taught me only days previously. I treated every action as a possible potential for failure, and I made sure that I never slipped up. Upon completion, I nervously stored the cells into the storage chamber overnight. The next day, I sprinted to the storage chamber. Success! The portentous mist was absent, and I had finally succeeded in a cell culture. I thought that the hard part of my experiment was behind me. I was very wrong.

My next agonizing ritual was to apply three small wax dots to a coverslip for a neuron support structure. Essentially, this entailed melting the wax on a hotplate and transferring drops to the coverslip using a pipette. Again, all of this had to be done within the flowhood to ensure sterility. Upon reading this, I thought to myself that this was utter child's play compared to the cell culture. Then I tried it. My first attempt at transfer resulted in the wax hardening in the pipette, rendering both unusable. The wax was obviously too cool, so I heated it further. My second attempt at transfer saw the wax drop spread throughout the entire coverslip upon impact, as the wax was too hot. It turned out that there was an absurdly small range of temperatures that would allow for successful wax deposition, and the hotplate that I was using divided temperatures into numbers from 1 to 6, not helping my problem any. I thus quickly realized that my endeavor would be based on pure trial and error. One hour, thirty pipettes, and fifteen coverslips squandered, I finally achieved my task. One coverslip was prepared. Only 23 more to go...

I learned many things from my tedious days in the lab. Foremost, science in the real world is nothing like science taught to you at school. You are not hand-fed the answers; you have to painstakingly work to find them yourself. An additional positive experience was the ability to work with professionals in one of my fields of interest. This offers an accelerated and more in-depth learning process that is at a much higher level than traditional high school doctrine. But the most important thing that I learned from my time at the lab is brought to you from the wise mind of William Edward Hickson: "If at first you don't succeed, try try again."