Undergraduate / Passport To The World - USC Personal Statement [2]

Please help me with grammar and what I could do to make this essay more personable. I'm at about 400 words right now.

It is an unhealthy addiction spanning thousands of calories. Last week, it was baklava. This week: mooncakes. Peering through the glass viewing window to see rows of perfectly shaped mooncakes baking in the oven, I reveled in the sudden rush of jubilation that traveled through my body. Finally, I, Linda Jiang, had conquered the fearsome king of all Chinese pastries.

This cooking addiction began in the 3rd grade when my dad bought me an Easy Bake oven for Christmas; it easily amazed my eight-year old self how a pack of powder mixed with a spoonful of water could magically become an edible cake. I easily fell in love. When the time came, I traded in my electronic toy for a real oven and, instead of using box mixes, I would rummage the pantry, toss ingredients together and eagerly await the unknown result. It was always a learning experience. Sometimes it was really darn awful. But when it turned out well, I always delighted in being able to share these treats with my friends, family, and even neighbors.

Cooking has not only taken me to the neighbor's, but it has also taken me around the world. Through food, I have traveled to distant lands and experienced their cultures without the hassles of air travel. From creating and sampling African akara to Indonesian curry puffs; the distinctive flavors intrinsic to their land cultivated a deep sense of appreciation within me for the diversity found throughout the world. Moreover, cooking has given me the opportunity to connect back to my own Hakkan roots in ways that going to Chinese school never could. The times I've spent in the kitchen with my dad have been some of my most rewarding memories I've had soaking in the cultural connotations he fondly relayed with special dishes. His vivid descriptions of such dishes made with ingredients only native to Southern China has garnered an interest in me to further explore Hakkan culture.

Even though I realize that next year marks the beginning of my adulthood where I won't be home the majority of the year, the feeling has not yet sunk in. However, I am sure that when it does, I will be confident because cooking has given me the ability to bring a part of my culture with me wherever I go and share it with whoever is around me. To me, this addiction is priceless.

Undergraduate / Stanford Roommate App - EXPLODING EGG [2]

I took a little different approach on the roommate note, let me know what I can do to improve this.

Future Friend,
Hard-boiled eggs should not be heated in the microwave, at least not without perforation, or a shield. I found out the hard way. My mom always told me that breakfast is the most important meal of the day. But when extracurricular activities and school work began to pile up, I frequented tiresome nights of homework and studying. Breakfast became rare occurrences. To rectify this problem, my mom cooked hard-boiled eggs ahead of time that I could quickly devour before rushing out the door.

One morning, after a late night of studying for AP US History and not getting nearly enough rest, I dragged myself down to the kitchen. Half asleep, I began my usual routine. Grab bowl. Open fridge. Take out egg. Open microwave. Put bowl with egg in. 25 seconds. Beep. Beep. Done. Mindlessly, I took the egg out and jabbed my fork into it without realizing that I'd forgotten to puncture it prior to heating. Next thing I knew, my egg exploded. Pieces of egg stuck to my face and landed everywhere. I stood there dazed until my mom's frantic footsteps on the stairs awoke me from my trance. Now somewhat functioning, I began to explain to my mom that in all my haste, I had forgotten to perforate the egg which allowed the pressure inside to build up and lead to the explosion. Bemused, she told me to take the day off; it was obvious that I had been overworking myself.

Later, the more I thought about it the more I realized that, like the egg, my blunder was caused by the stress that I had amassed the weeks prior without creating a hole for the pressure to escape. I'm reminded of this incident as we enter Stanford because I know we will inevitably face a great deal of pressure during our time here. I hope that in the absence of our families, we'll look out for each other, making sure neither one of us becomes too overwhelmed that we forget to take a moment here and there to just stop, relax, and enjoy our time at Stanford.

P.S Let's stick with waffles for breakfast instead.

Undergraduate / 'State Track Meet in Triple Jump' - Common App Extracurricular [2]

Feedback?

Lights illuminated the field under the night sky. A crowd had gathered. I ignored the searing pain in my shins and lower back. This was it: my last chance to qualify for the State Track Meet in Triple Jump. Five years had passed from when I first stepped onto the runway; since then, I'd grown to love the sport in leaps and bounds-literally. Track is a never ending challenge of what can be achieved. Each time I find myself on the 45-meter stretch of tartan track, it becomes a test of my body to see how fast and far I can run and jump. The idea that the limit of my abilities directly correlates to the effort put forth comforts me in other aspects of my life that I cannot control. Track dared me to explore new depths of myself both mentally and physically, and taught me the importance of team camaraderie, from rising up after struggles to celebrating our success together. Although I came up short last year, look out for me in May. I continue to strive forward.

Undergraduate / 'Asian among the white community' - PERSONAL STATEMENT [3]

I wrote this as a rough draft first and I'm really iffy about it. I feel like there's a lot of tell not show but at the same time I don't believe that it's listing qualities about myself.. please help!

Topic of Choice?

I leaped into the air ready to pounce. I brought my arm back with my paddle in hand and swung forward as if I were Reid Priddy of the US Men's Volleyball Team. The sound of a smooth "swoosh" reached my ears as both of my opponents and my teammate were silenced. Milliseconds later, the definitive thud of the ball hitting the ground behind me was all it took for the silence to be filled with our roaring laughter as we all realized how embarrassingly bad I had just whiffed the pickle ball. Moments like these showcase the transformation I've made from a shy girl who before would have been mortified at the situation to a confident and outgoing young woman who isn't afraid of a little embarrassment.

Growing up, academics came relatively easy to me. I enjoyed the company of Ebenezer Scrooge and Nancy Drew over real people. In math and science, rules and theorems guided me to success, but in life I had no concrete rule guaranteed to work. For me, interacting with others was the seemingly unrelenting challenge I often attributed to my Asian background in a predominantly white community. Vulnerability struck as my greatest fear. In middle school, even when I wasn't being ridiculed for my Asian heritage, I felt as if I were. Each remark about the fried rice I ate for lunch or assumption that I played violin when I actually played the saxophone built a new wall inside of me. I turned into a girl whose fear of making mistakes and facing embarrassment closed her off from people.

No specific incident broke down these walls I had up. Instead, they slowly began to crumble in high school through meeting other Asians who didn't have this problem. As I found my niche in Track and DECA, it became painfully obvious that I had perceived everything in the wrong way. My background was irrelevant to the problem. My issues manifested solely in me and my attitude. I could be happy if I really wanted to. It was about how much of myself I was willing to put out there and the energy I placed into acquainting myself with others. This profound discovery led me to start living with a new ardor in everything I do, even in activities as corny as gym class pickle ball. I finally let go of trying to be perfect-because when you give anything your all, you're bound to make blunders that you don't need to be afraid of. Success doesn't come from sitting on the sidelines. It comes from being willing to play the game. Nowadays, dramatically going to return the pickle ball only to completely whiff? No big. Life goes on. These moments give life a myriad of color.