Undergraduate / 'We all love mathematics' - UC Supplement [7]

Describe the world you come from; for example, your family, clubs, school, community, city, or town. How has that world shaped your dreams and aspirations?

I love mathematics. My dad loves mathematics. Even my mom loves mathematics. My family gets excited over discovering the beauty of math. When I was young, my mom and I would sit at a desk and spend hours solving one or two problems from the Math Olympiad. My dad, then, would come out of nowhere and solve the question in a twinkle and quietly disappear while my mom and I are caught in awe. Whenever the word "math" comes up, my family unites. Math's real beauty lies in its paradoxical characteristics: it is simple but complex. Even though math has defined rules, it requires thinking outside of the box to solve the problem.

I have always wanted to spread the magic of mathematics. The passion has been deeply embedded in me for years when I finally found the perfect place to pursue my passion. The Gangseo Child Learning Development Center, a non-profit organization in South Korea, offered me an opportunity to teach mathematics. I noticed that most of the kids at the center were noticeably smaller than other kids their age: they were little, skinny, and infirm.

Despite my nervousness, I dove right in with the mathematical formulae I knew. However, I soon realized that the kids had never been introduced to the most elementary concepts of math. For example, they didn't know "PEMDAS," an acronym for the order arithmetic takes. Continuously confusing the order of operations, the children kept getting lost while solving problems. I adjusted my teaching plan and decided to give them a solid foundation in the basics. I taught them how to survive in the realm of basic math problems. After a week went by, I was pleasantly surprised to find the kids actually interested in mathematics! They were all learning far more than I had anticipated.

As I watched their progress, I saw the meaningfulness of serving my community and found clarity in the joy it gives me. I discovered that the blend of education and my passion for math is a promising combination. I started thinking about how I could turn the combination into a profession. Teaching requires a complete understanding of the taught concept. Even though I was teaching basic skills, I benefited from reinforcing the essential mathematical ideas in myself. Though I cannot say how big of an impact I had on the children, I know that they have greatly influenced me - they helped me discover my dream, what I want to do in the future. Dedicating my skills to my community has become a vital component of my life.

Having successively taught young students how to analyze pure math, I realized that math and education were the areas I wanted to expand upon in my future studies. Perhaps I could be a professional educator at a higher level, or an applied mathematician with a base of engineering. Regardless of where I end up, I am confident that the passion and motivation I gained from teaching math will stay with me and continue to inspire me.

Tell us about a personal quality, talent, accomplishment, contribution or experience that is important to you. What about this quality or accomplishment makes you proud, and how does it relate to the person you are?

I always felt sorry for my dad during my childhood because I was not a boy; I felt like I left him to be the lone male in the house. My dad had dreams about the things he would do with a son: cycling around the whole country; staging impromptu taekwondo matches in the living room; relaxing on a Sunday evening watching a live broadcast of a national soccer game. Unfortunately for my dad, these turned out to be dreams and no more. As a child, I was a girly girl, and my dad had to cultivate his more tender side to embrace the "girly things" to get closer to me. Nonetheless, my dad never gave up and invited me in his "manly activities," one in particular, cycling.

On a nice summer day of 2012, my dad unexpectedly invited me to go on a bike ride. My father's undying zeal for cycling was successful in dragging me onto the bike. I secretly prayed for a storm or a hurricane warning that would end the excursion. Being monsoon season, it was a very humid day in Korea. The heat was unbearable, but the cycling trip was unavoidable. Since it was unavoidable, I decided to savor the experience.

Riding a two-wheeler for 159 kilometers is not an easy task, especially for someone who has never ridden one before. The experience, though, was different from what I had initially expected. The first 50 kilometers were more than manageable; working the treadle, I easily rode my bike forward. The machine was fantastic! So I led the way, teasing my dad's slowness and puffing. Nevertheless, as expected, the next 50 kilometers was disastrously challenging. Dad did not help me. He stayed behind letting me set my own pace. Although dad was within sight, I was essentially by myself. Alone, with my earnest zeal, I was successful on keeping myself on track. Checking my whereabouts on the trail, I challenged myself. As the summit came closer, I pedaled more vigorously. My ardor and patience did not let me down. My back was bent like bamboo, my legs were about to melt, and my face was drenched in suffocating pink sweat. Nevertheless, I kept peddling.

Suddenly just as I was to about give up and walk beside my bicycle, my mind unlocked like Pandora's Box spilling out an epiphany. The journey was like reaching in and finding a treasure. The bicycle trip was my first experience of self-discovery. Despite the 60 kilometers ahead of me, the evening of the first day of the trip, I felt a sense of newness, wonderment, and completion. I realized that on that day, my dad finally got what he wanted - a child, now a young adult, who he can share his passions and make dreams come true: his dream of cycling around the country with his child had become true.

For the record, I still hate cycling (not really).

Undergraduate / "Pandora's Box" - Common App essay [5]

"Pandora's Box"
I always felt sorry for my dad that I was not a boy so leave him the only male in the house. He would have wondered if I were a boy doing together the active things he loves: bicycle traveling with him throughout whole country and having a taekwondo match. However, these were just roaming illusions of my poor dad. In my white-colored with pink-dotted room, there were Mimi (a Korean Version of Barbie) posing delicately in a dream-like house with her boyfriend, Hello Kitty, Mickey Mouse, and tons of stuffed dolls. I was just a shy, very girly girl. In my childhood, being a girly girl playing with my toys was not bad for me; instead being an active and energetic boy was unimaginable. I was never anything else than the girl for whom my dad had to wear his most tender side.

Nothing to say more, my dad indulged himself in mountain bike, mostly alone. Still a loving parent, he had every week tempted me to go bicycling together since I was ten years old, but why? Could he just go by himself and not be stuck with me having trouble striking balance on the wheels? No one cares about me riding the two-wheeled vehicle. His intention passed all my sympathy throughout my childhood.

It was a nice summer day in 2012. I had already grown up by then. Expectedly, I was invited to go for a bike ride with my dad. This time I was successfully dragged out by my father's undying zeal for bicycling, the sky was azure, and the sun repulsively wore a smile at me. I wished that the storm runs riot, we get a hurricane warning or something that would end our excursion in innocent guise. It was a particularly humid day in the monsoon affected Korea. The heat was unbearable, but I knew for some reason I could not avoid the trouble this time. So I kept echoing inside my head: If you cannot avoid it, savor it.

Riding a two-wheeler for a hundred and fifty nine kilometers (about a hundred miles) was not an easy task, especially for someone who had never liked that kind of portage. But, it was different from what I had initially expected. The first fifty kilometer was more than manageable; if I worked a treadle, my vehicle would automatically follow me. What an exhilarating machine it is! So I led the way over my dad, teasing him on his slowness. Nevertheless, the next fifty kilometers was the climax; as I was fighting the urge to give up, I kept saying to myself, "keep it up, you can do it!" My dad did not help me. He always left me alone and let me arrive at my own pace in everything; though my dad was in my sight, I was all by myself. Alone, I was pretty good at keeping myself on track. Ensuring my whereabouts in the path, I decided not to be defeated. When the summit came closer to me as I pedaled vigorously, even though my butt was burning, legs about to disintegrate, and face to be drenched in suffocating sweat, I continued my leg motion.

While I was riding the bicycle, I felt that my mind opened as Pandora's Box opens. The journey was like reaching to the point to find a hidden treasure. The bicycle trip was my first experience of self-discovery. In the evening of the first day trip, I felt a sense of completion, though there was still a distance left to be ridden. I wondered what tomorrow would bring in my journey. Fifty nine kilos long left? It is not a task.