Scholarship / "You're wrong, I'm right" ; Yale/Princeton Supp; Role of Culture [2]

Option 3 - Using the quotation below as a starting point, reflect on the role that culture plays in your life.

"Culture is what presents us with the kinds of valuable things that can fill a life. And insofar as we can recognize the value in those things and make them part of our lives, our lives are meaningful."

"You're wrong, I'm right" was a common sentiment and response I used to my friends, family, and even random strangers when the ever controversial topic of politics came up in conversation. Much like our elected officials on Capitol Hill, I was the kind of individual who placed an emphasis on one's political opinions before their actual personalities and character. When I entered a conversation with practically anyone, I would force the issue of politics to come up and if their opinion differed from my liberal ideals, I would immediately make a stubborn move to judge them based solely on their beliefs.

My passion for politics was, like many other young people, out of 2008 Presidential Election. I had heard of Barack Obama considering he was from my home state, but I had no idea what him being a Democrat actually meant. Instead, I knew that my parents supported him and that was good enough for me. Over the course of that election and the following years as I entered high school and joined Youth and Government, I began to learn what each party meant and what their beliefs were. After comparing both parties, I recognized more similar beliefs in the Democratic Party, and therefore made them the base for what I believed in.

As I slowly gained a political identity, I started to become more opinionated and stubborn in what I believed in. If a friend disagreed with what I held to be true, I did my best to switch them to my side and see my opinions. However, one day I was involved in a rather heated debate with one of my best friends when he called me a "free-loader" for being a Democrat, and I responded by calling him a "Silver-spooned idiot". Before the insult even left my mouth, I realized how terrible my actions were.

My parents had always taught me that what mattered most was integrity and respect, and I had suddenly turned my back on that because I placed politics before friendship and amicability. I felt that my intelligence and understanding of politics made me a mature and capable person, but through insulting one of my closest friends just because we couldn't agree showed I wasn't as advanced as I thought I was. I had lost sight of what actually mattered in my life and what defined me: It's not believing in higher taxes, but believing in compromise, respect, and humility.

Over the last year, I have made a concerted effort to change my actions in relations to politics. I still love it more than ever, but instead of talking and getting angry, I have learned to listen, stay calm, and be positive. For example, at the beginning of this school year as I campaigned for a local candidate, I knocked on the door of a man who I truly had no common ground with. The old, immature me would have approached the situation by arguing and knocking down the man's points, but at this time I put my new attitude to the test by calming advocating my candidate's beliefs and qualifications without mentioning her opponent. I knew that I was in no position to judge this man based solely on what he thought was right, and that is how my approach to politics has changed the most. While I still have some of the tenacity that I used to, which I believe is necessary for any passionate person, I have that I should not allow my political beliefs to define me or others, but rather how I react, respond, and listen to others.

Undergraduate / "Zealous, Athletic, Cool..." ; Yale Supp [3]

Even in high school, I'm still asked to fill out acrostic poems, like I used to in second grade. They are the fun ones where you would take your name and come up with an individual adjective to describe myself for each letter in your name. While everyone else looked forward to these poems because they were easy, they weren't blessed with the rather difficult name "Zachary".

There is a limit of 500 words, which I went over. Please critique and please be honest. THANK YOU!

Of course there are a laundry list of adjectives for the letters "A, C, H, R" so I would usually just quickly throw a word down and then get back to work on "Z" and "Y". Eventually with the letter "Y" I would just have to opt for a word like "young" and focus on the "Z". I wanted the "Z" to be the one letter that described me more than any other, the only problem was that there aren't a whole lot of adjectives out there that start with "Z". In fact, the only two words I could ever come up with "zealous" and "zany". Considering I never thought of myself as crazy or the screwball type, I would opt for zealous. I suppose this word fit, I always thought of myself as a passionate individual after all. However, upon repeating this assignment in high school it occurred to me: How exactly do I go about describing myself and what is the value in my own self-description?

This question came to me as I debated between putting down the words "zealous" and "zany". It seemed easy enough, I had always done "zealous" with these assignments over the years, but as I was preparing to use that word for what seemed like the one hundredth time, I wondered: Why do I consider myself zealous? In my eyes, I see myself as a passionate individual with a love of golf, history, and laughing, but for anyone else they could just as easily say I come off as "zany". This small conflict led me to question not only my perception of myself, but also how others perceive me.

I had always held the belief that the way I thought of myself was how others viewed me. I always thought of myself as "Zealous, Athletic, Cool, Happy, Academic, Reasonable, and Young". However, is this really what others thought of me? The coach that cut me from the baseball team in eighth grade certainly wouldn't agree with the term athletic, and surely the girl I broke up with sophomore year wouldn't describe me as reasonable. Maybe I wasn't who I thought I was after all.

Initially, I wasn't sure of how to understand the observations others made of me. I wasn't sure how to value them, recognize, and whether or not I should make an effort to change them. I had always considered myself pretty humorous, but I began to wonder whether I should change my sense of humor to appeal to more people. At one point I even questioned the set of friends I had surrounded myself with and whether or not they influenced how others judge me. I was debating all of these possibilities when one day, when with my friends, I began to laugh uncontrollably at one of their jokes. I can't remember what the joke was, but that moment made me realize what the opinion of others meant. The people I was surrounded by, my friends, liked me for what I am and they saw me as the "Zealous, Athletic, Cool..." person I thought I was. I understood that there were always going to people out there that didn't think of me the way I hoped, and while I will always respect their opinions, I must appreciate myself for who I am and represent what I believe myself to be.

Undergraduate / Understanding why I do, what I do; Yale Supp [2]

Hello, I'm not sure how really sure how strong this essay is, but your critique would be greatly appreciated!

It was 2 A.M. as I sat in my brightly lit bedroom with music softly beating in the background when I asked myself, "Why am I doing this?" In front of me was an A.P. U.S. History textbook, opened to some excruciatingly high numbered page, with lettering too small to read and not a soothing picture or diagram to be seen, and beside it was an SAT prep book. I had always loved history, but I couldn't understand why I was sacrificing another night of sleep in order to study. This was junior year, and I had heard all of the terrible stories of all of the work, and I thought I was going to be able to get by with ease. However, when the true force of the workload hit me, I was ready to throw in the towel and give up. I was prepared to do just that, when I suddenly came to the realization of why I was putting myself through all of this.

I pondered the question "Why does anyone do what they do?" and came to the conclusion that our actions are derived from motivations. To me, the question became: What are my motivations? I had always done school work, studied, and practiced just because. I never really knew why, it was just the norm and was what my friends always did so I went along with it. Now, I felt the need to look into myself and try to understand why I was sitting in my bedroom reading a passage about the Revolutionary War instead of sleeping the night away.

The conclusion I found and one that I continue to hold to today is that I value others more than I ever realized. When I or anybody studies for a test, they most likely do it because they want a good grade and succeed. After all, everyone has always said, "Good grades means going to college and after that you'll be successful and make lots of money." Sure, that could be true, but there is more to it. What is the use of money and success if you aren't able to share it with someone? To me, when I begin to question my intentions or motivations, I think of my mother working sixty hours a week so she can help pay for my college exams and applications. By giving up on myself, I am giving up on her more than anything.

My mother is a incredible source of inspiration in my life, but my motivations to succeed aren't based on her, they are based on my future as well. When I grow up, I want to look at my children and think to myself, "I have given them every chance to succeed in this world because I fought for it."

I used to believe that everything I did was for the direct benefit of me, and in a small aspect to impress my parents. However, that sleepless night of history, many more of which followed, helped me to understand why I do what I do, and that my desire to achieve isn't derived from what I want in myself, but what I want to do for others.