Undergraduate / "Sobremesa" - UChicago; untranslatable, personal word [6]

Pick a word, tell us what it means, and say why it cannot (or should not) be translated.

Sobremesa. Esta palabra de nueve letras no significa nada en ingles, pero en espańol ayuda a definir ambo la cultura de Espańa y las personas espańoles. Sobremesa es el tiempo que pasamos después de que terminamos comiendo pero antes de que salimos de la mesa. Tiempo que pasamos hablando, relajando, digiriendo, y disfrutando en la compańía de los demás. Tiempo que no nos apresuremos, y tiempo que no nos saltamos.

For me, this word is sobremesa. Roughly translated, sobremesa is the time we spend after we have finished a meal but before we leave the table. It is the time we spend socializing, enjoying, digesting, and relaxing in the company of others. Time we don't rush, and time we don't skip.

The word sobremesa does not exist in English. But why should it? There is no cultural equivalent. Our culture tends to value quantity over quality, results over method. America is society of individualism, where every man is expected to fend for himself. Though it's hard to imagine our country being any other way. These values are a part of our country's culture in the same way that sobremesa is a part of Spain's. However, sobremesa would give America an opportunity to take a step back from the chaos of life. The word itself literally means "over the table." And sobremesa is just that. It's a time when I can bring anything up for discussion, my thoughts on global politics or my feelings about my last math test. In my family, the practice has become a nightly routine. I no longer find myself eating behind the screen of a laptop, working hard to finish just one more problem before my mom realizes I'm missing from the dinner table.

For the Spanish, how they eat is just as important as what they eat. Sobremesa is a reason to spend time with one another, to talk about one's day and share stories with friends and family. It is not planned, not penciled into organizers or marked with a notification on phones. The Spanish value family, friends, and verbal communication. But more than anything, they value sobremesa. Sobremesa gives my family the opportunity to connect over food. It brings purpose to an activity that used to mean nothing. Despite the disorder of life, sobremesa is the one-hour of the day I can count on to relax. With sobremesa, there's no thinking, it just happens. For me, sobremesa is more of a feeling than a word. It's difficult to describe to an outsider, but it's easy to understand once you experience it.

I've decided that neither side is better than the other. Es imposible elegir entre dos culturas que ayudan a definir quién soy. Regardless of how busy we are, my mom always makes sure that we have time for a family dinner, and of course, sobremesa. It's become a family tradition, one I continue to this day. Even in the mayhem of today's world, siempre hay tiempo para la sobremesa. I hope to spread the practice of sobremesa in America, to teach them that there is always time for sobremesa.

Undergraduate / 'Carrots. I don't like them.' - "Who are you?" - Georgetown personal statement [3]

Prompt: As Georgetown is a diverse community, the Admissions Committee would like to know more about you in your own words. Please submit a brief essay, either personal or creative, which you feel best describes you. Thanks in advance for any comments/corrections!

Carrots. I look disapprovingly at what's left of my lunch-a bag of carrots. I don't like them. Regrettably, I have no other option; it's what I've been given. It's a Tuesday lunch hour like any other. I sit at our designated lunch table between two girls who have been my best friends since freshman year. Girls talk to the left and right of me. They laugh at a joke I haven't heard and share the latest piece of gossip. But I'm sitting quietly in my own little world. And I'm okay with that.

I've been taught from an early age to always stay true to myself. And even though I walk out the door some mornings wearing a mask, deep down I am who I have always been. I'm confident, I'm quiet, and I'm independent. I'm not afraid to be different; in fact, it's something I strive to achieve. I sit at my lunch table, surrounded by friends, yet still find ways to feel completely alone, to travel to the place where I feel most content. I've found the confidence to be quiet, to not be the loudest one in a group. For me, being alone is when I'm most comfortable. It's one of the few times when I feel calm and grounded. A time when I can explore my thoughts...a chance to just be me.

Of course, there isn't just one "me." There's the Shannon who teachers know: she studies hard and never misses a night of homework. There's the Shannon who friends know: she eats lunch with a group of chatty girls and always laughs and smiles. Then there's the Shannon who I know: she is quiet, but not closed off. I feel comfortable when I'm alone because I enjoy quiet places over loud ones, because I enjoy listening over speaking, and because sometimes I prefer my own thoughts to those of others.

I understand that high school is an important step in life's journey, a necessary footstep in a much longer marathon. You see, I have another life outside of the daily gossip and friendly, but surface chatter. The equestrian world, my sport and my passion, is filled with close friends, travel, competition, my horse, and the community I do call my own. I have proven to myself that I can excel in high school, an environment that does not suit me all the time, but I have also proven that I can find a passion. Now I await the opportunity to finally live a complete life, when my friends and my passion, whatever it may be, are finally one. To finally explore the world to which I've only been introduced. A time when carrots won't be my only option.

And so, I sit at the lunch table, quiet, but content. My friend says something funny, and then looks at me expectantly; I smile and let out a laugh, a sign of quiet acceptance. Then I pick up a carrot and take a bite.