Undergraduate / 'Keep waiting' - Stanford Essay to my room mate.... Charley te t33. [3]

This is my Stanford Supplement. - Virtually all of Stanford's undergraduates live on campus. Write a note to your future roommate that reveals something about you or that will help your roommate - and us - know you better.

Charley te tee? (That's Ga for "how are you doing pal").Yes I'm Ghanaian and no newbie to the roomie experience - Four years of boarding school made certain of that - so I doubt I will be any trouble. Well here goes my introduction to self. I'm the "place the pen in the first orifice of the holder "guy; the "straighten my bed immediately after getting up, even if it is afternoon" guy. I must confess though that in as much as I enjoy the satiating calm that accompanies orderliness, I occasionally give in to my more chaotic self. So don't be too surprised when you find last week's musky sock tucked somewhere beneath my mattress - it is simply my alter-being winning against sanity. Plus hey! Everyone does enjoy a little bedlam now and then. I am the semi-overt type; not hesitating to jam to "All Right Now" at future Cardinal Games, yet crawling readily back to reticence and self-absorption when my more conservative inclinations dominate. Like most guys my age, I enjoy late night banters on soccer or some totally rad topic over a cup of coffee, while trying to work my way through an assignment on simple harmonic motion or conical pendulums. On some nights, you might chance upon murmurs of "avada kedavra, levicorpus, or flippendo," while I sleep; aftermaths of my eternal devotion to fantasy and The Harry Potter Septology. Most importantly though, I am defined by my love for culture and tradition; African clothes, dance and food totally dominate my interests and world outlook. My people's adinkra symbols, "FUNTUNFUNEFU and ESE NE TEKREMA," both signifying friendship and unity in diversity , have been threaded into a neck piece I wear each day; a neckpiece I look forward to passing on to you even as much as I desire to learn about your culture. So yeah," Mi ne". "Abaa na bo" pal. (That's about it. See you later pal.)

Undergraduate / 'I am African' If I could Lend My Heart Words [4]

Hi! This is supposed to be my common app essay. I feel that it is lacking something. Will really appreciate your Help with this. Thanks

If I could lend my heart words, if only I could put in 500 words what 18 years have failed to understand. Even now I find the prospects impossible, unintelligible even. Yet for expediency's sake I have managed to salvage this much from the confounding abyss of self I am African.

I am African each time I hear the lucid swish swoosh of the Dipo Yoo's raffia skirt as she trudges along the dusty walkways of my native Ada during her puberty rite. I watch every step as it ushers in the mellifluous clink of Krobo beads that sit regally across her voluptuous hips; each step telling of purity and juxtaposing it with the amoral blight of the contemporary African's soul. To me each step signifies the African soil's longing for the ones with whom it once shared a kinship a longing so strong it alliances with gravity to coerce our feet homeward. It is also a depiction of the constant struggle of today's African to remain true to his roots a struggle illustrated by the normal reaction of the earth against the Dipo Yoo's foot. Like the dust that swirls about an initiate's leg with each thud of her foot, I also encircle and embrace my Africanism, as I remain true to my ancestral roots and follow in step with the Dipo Yoo.

I am African. I am African each time I sit in a trotro and endure gloriously the rattling of my bones as it sweeps along the untarred roads leading homeward. Like the proverbial book that deserves better judgement than its cover entitles it to, the trotro conceals its resplendent African contents in the ramshackle, rust laden, cankered chassis of a moving metal bucket. Within those few moments spent promenading, Africa springs to life. Aboriginal values of courtesy, communal responsibility and oneness abound with a flourish. The drivers mate collects our fares with unaffected relish, I draw the windows backward to relieve old granny of the imposing chill, and beside us a Sisala man engages in an exchange with an Anlo woman. When my journey cones to its end, and I alight, I revel in the infinitesimal pleasures of my miniature Africa. Like my mother says, there was nothing before the trotro, and there will be nothing after.

I find therefore that, it is in these truly African moments that my being is given form. That it is these moments that have determined my bearing. My people say that the horn is not too heavy for the head that bears it. I was born African to be made African. If I could lend my heart words; if only I could put in 500 words what many more years have still to understand. But I realise now that 500 words are probably too many to profess this ď I am an African.

Undergraduate / Science students don't write - Stanford's essay [7]

This essay is a response to Stanford's essay on intellectual vitality. I am rather unsure as to its answering of the question... I sure hope it does! All comments are greatly appreciated.

My country is home to a surfeit of stereotypes; women are to be demure and confined to the kitchen, children are to be seen and not heard, and sadly, science students DO NOT write. With globalisation came reforms. Reforms in our thought patterns that helped quell the pervasiveness of some of these stereotypes. Sadly though, it failed to expunge one - science students still don't write.

I loved writing but would never have considered myself a great writer. Although I had been called forward occasionally to play raconteur to my own pieces, it was never so often as to warrant any form of recognition in that respect. Moreover as a science student, harbouring writing tendencies was considered near heresy, so I dimmed my passion for words . I was therefore surprised when, in my final year, my high school English teacher proposed that I write a play on child labour to be included in her presentation to the Microsoft Partners in Learning Program.

The knowledge that she had defied tradition in asking this spurred me on. In that infinitesimal moment, she revived a monster. The miniature Ola Rotimi in me had found root, and like a tree fern, had established a mutualistic relationship with the Einstein within. The result? A Da Vinci of the sort. With the flame now rekindled, I worked myself tired daily; researching and drafting each scene as it came, each time revelling in the knowledge that each word was a step against stereotypes.

Watching my play being acted out was one of the highest points of my life, bringing me as much joy as any of my scientific displays. For a moment I envisioned myself as Shakespeare, sitting through the premier of "MACBETH." I smiled.

When at the end of the play I was announced as the playwright, I stole a glimpse at my physics teacher. He awarded me a nod of approval as though to say, "But alas, science students DO write." My play went on to win third best at the national level. And although I am no Shakespeare, I AM A SCIENCE STUDENT AND I WRITE.

Undergraduate / 'Second year saw no decline in my enthusiasm'; Engineering Lessons, science club [2]

Hi! I just joined essay forum and i am impressed by the insight of its members. I wrote this in answering common app essay 1; "Evaluate a significant experience,achievement,risk or ethical dilemma you have faced and how it has impacted you" All critiques are appreciated.

I first developed a passion for Engineering and Applied Physics after hearing about my high school's annual Speech and Prize Giving Day Exhibitions. I fell in love with the metamorphosis of mere ideas into tactile creations, and revelled in the knowledge that these creations contributed to solving pertinent problems. This passion gave new life to ordinary WASSCE and O level physics classes, and fuelled my imagination; giving me room to consider the diverse plausible applications of everyday phenomena such as thermo-related expansion.

With time this passion grew as I got involved in the functioning of our school's science club. I was elected the fresher class rep, and was given the task of assembling a group of equally enthusiastic freshmen. We were given a spot in the approaching speech day science fest and were to come up with our own exhibit. It was a blast! After what were countless nights of research and round table meetings, we came up with the idea of accident prevention using wind powered straw cars coupled with magnets of like polarity. Our exhibit was heralded by all as arguably one of the best of the day. And to crown my joy, I was awarded the prize for best science student in the freshman year.

Second year saw no decline in my enthusiasm as I was constantly amidst what had now become my inner group of science fanatics, arguing or contemplating the details of what should be our next exhibit. By March, our highly anticipated science exhibition was nearing and we were bristling with ideas. I, after the previous year's achievement, was eager to pull off another crowd wooer. It was in light of this that I proposed the ethanol powered rocket. My rocket was to operate on the principle of jet propulsion and was to be powered by ethanol extracted from sugarcane. This idea met opposition both from within and without.

My superiors argued that it would be too expensive and advised that I resort to something less costly. Unwilling to chuck in my obsession, I altered the requirements, opting for cheaper materials against my colleagues' better judgement. Unable to countenance the new me, some of my partners broke off and joined other groups. Apathy stole into the hearts of what was left of my partners and eventually, my rocket dream emerged the greatest debacle of my 16years. In the end, I was made to settle with demonstrations to 8th and 9th graders on the use of a stroboscope in identifying wave forms and properties. I swept 8 prizes that speech day; 7 academic prizes and one memorable experience.

That day, I learnt 3 lessons that have successfully governed my life and were responsible for my subsequent achievements. First; never trivialise good counsel. Whether it was chairing weekly prefect meetings, or meeting with the Graduation Planning Committee, I learnt to see reason in and to value the contributions of my fellows while applying those contributions to reason.

Secondly, it taught me the values of dispassionate judgement and self-restraint. This meant I could dream big yet objectively. In my third year, I co-assembled an automated house that drew clothes lines in during rain, while converting the mechanical energy generated into power for a fan and heating element that dried the drawn clothes. Although initially reluctant, I sought the help of my high school seniors, who occasionally altered my original write up, thus ensuring my success.

Finally, it helped me appreciate Reinhold Niebuhr's Serenity Prayer; always searching for ways to improve my society while accepting that at times, the time may not be right.