Undergraduate / 'Sojourn to the Past'- Common App Essay-My Ideas [3]

My Ideas

Last February I went on a school trip called Sojourn to the Past, in which a small group of students from my school traveled with 90 students from California schools to learn about the landmarks of the 1960s Civil Rights Movement. On Sojourn I learned new perspective on how my parents' traditional views on race and race relations that they learned growing up in rural China really affect my life.

On the fourth day of the two-week trip we were in Birmingham, Alabama learning about the four little girls who were killed in the 16th Street Baptist Church bombing. As I sat in the church pews, looking at the portion of the wall that had been rebuilt, I couldn't help but cry. I couldn't stop thinking about how the men who set the bomb off had been raised to hate people different from them and the death of four innocent children was what had come from it. I couldn't help but think about my parents' values that they taught me.

Since I'd left the church I wondered, how could I go against my parents' ideas? How could such important people in my life be so wrong? How could I respect my parents when I don't respect the kind of person they want me to become? These thoughts tormented me every night so much that I didn't call home for the rest of the trip. I didn't know what I could say to my mom then. After visiting the Civil Rights Memorial, I began crying after touching the names of people who had been killed fighting for freedom. Mr. Steinberg, the program leader, pulled me aside. I explained to him my worries about going home and facing my family. He said I'd go home and love my parents just like always, the only change would be inside of me. He said I may not agree with my parents' ideas, but I could be the end to the racism that had gone on in my family for generations. I knew then that I could be the one who breaks the cycle.

Looking back, I realized that I went on Sojourn because in the back of my mind, I'd never agreed with my parents' traditional ideas of race. They were raised in an environment in which their ideas were the norm. The thing is, I grew up in Brookline, Massachusetts, a liberal American town. I don't share these same beliefs with my parents. I believe in tolerance and acceptance of all people, no matter what they look like. When I got off of the plane and my mom and I saw each other, smiles broke across both of our faces. On the plane ride home, I thought about what Mr. Steinberg said. He was right. I believe I can be end the intolerance and be the beginning of tolerance. I'll be the change I want to see in the world and work towards a brighter future for myself and for others.

Undergraduate / 'Big change in my life, My Voice' - Common App Essay [7]

My Voice

Tenth grade was a time of big change in my life. I was on the second half of my six-inch growth spurt, making new friends, discovering my love for school, and more than anything else, I was learning how to express myself.

It started during English class that year. My teacher, Mr. Berman, asked us to write analytical essays-like all of the other English teachers I'd had. I didn't really like to write analytical essays. Looking for different quotes in books, trying to impose my idea of their 'deeper' meaning through an essay, and then being graded on it has never been my thing. Mr. Berman's class was different, for every dull essay we wrote, we also had to include a reflection on things we learned from writing it. This was the first time a teacher had asked me to tell him what I was really thinking. I wrote my reflections not just on the papers, but also on the class in general. After a few reflections, I decided that he didn't seem to mind my tangents, so I began to reflect on my life in general. Sometimes I told him what I was doing outside of class, like discovering my passion for non-fiction books or making my own clothes, sometimes I'd talk about random things, like my love of peppermint ice cream in the winter and the love story I made for a doodle of mine, entitled "Confused Giraffe and Small Dancing Fox". Once, I talked about my love of Christmas and included a doodle called "Christmas Octopus". Though I sometimes gave him more random thoughts than ones on writing, he kept giving me positive feedback. He made me feel like my quirks could be more than just the scattered thoughts inside my head. The problem then was that I was still afraid my classmates wouldn't appreciate my ideas the way he did.

At first I never wanted to speak up during class. I didn't want my opinions out there for people to judge. I had a hard time expressing myself the way I sounded in my head. Mr. Berman let me put my ideas onto paper, which helped me develop my voice. Slowly, I began sharing my ideas with the whole class because I felt I could better express the personality I have inside. I volunteered to read my stories in class (like the one about an awkward teenager named Hal) and I raised my hand high to offer my opinion on writing styles. As I expressed myself, I found that my classmates were also supportive of my quirks. Now I like when people know how crazy I am, because then instead of being the shy, quiet girl in class, they can see my real personality-the kooky, thoughtful girl in class. Embracing my eccentricities and neurosis has me feel more comfortable in my own skin, which is more exciting than anything else I can think of.