Hello, I'm Lily.
I'm preparing to apply to Columbia's School of General Studies as a non-traditional student. I am looking for any guidance in narrative and structure, and any other feedback is greatly appreciated. Thank you in advance for your time and insight.
Personal Essay
PROMPT - Describe your educational history and work experience, present situation, and plans for the future. Reflect on why you consider yourself a non-traditional student and why you have chosen to pursue education at the School of General studies. The admissions committee is particularly interested in situations in your life from which you have learned and grown, and events that may have affected your education. These experiences and reflections should demonstrate your potential to add a unique perspective to the classroom. (1,000 - 2,000 words)
At the Lifeline youth residential treatment center, a frequent question my peers asked was, "It's called Magic?" At first, the simplest description for the isolated community I grew up in was, "It's an hour south of Sun Valley." However, the following fourteen months at Lifeline would teach me how to define my experiences and lay the foundation for a successful career and my pursuit in higher education as a non-traditional student.
I often felt like I lived between two distinct worlds in my childhood. The first was Sun Valley, Idaho, Ernest Hemingway's long-time residence, and America's first ski resort, known for frequent patrons like Bill Gates and the Kennedys. In other words, I attended one of the most well-funded schools, played hockey near the Sun Valley Lodge, and visited my dad as he worked at the local newspaper, The Mountain Express. Meanwhile, every night my dad and I would trek to a second world, Magic.
Magic City, Idaho, is a collection of thirty cabins and a single tavern lining the eastern shore of the Magic Reservoir. One must know which unassuming dirt road to take to get there as it isn't visible from the highway. Furthermore, local authorities lacked interest in the village's patrol, aside from a few fires, drownings, and gun-related incidents. Within Magic, our one-room cabin sat upon stilts, supported by a large Cottonwood tree. We didn't have running water in the winter in the early years, and we had an outhouse instead of a bathroom. Therefore, I bathed using a process we christened "pioneer baths," using microwaved bottled water. There was no phone or internet service, but we did have a TV station, courtesy of a finicky antenna. Thus, the older I got, the more I became aware of the polarity between Magic and Sun Valley.
My parents battled addiction, mental health, and financial hardship throughout my childhood, and I spent most of my time with my dad. He seemed to prefer the village's seclusion as if it were a defiant alternative to the opulence up north. Magic was a place for him to drink and paint the Rocky Mountains in plein-air. Yet the desire for withdrawal was often a distraction from painful realities and unhealthy behavior. Many residents shared similar struggles as my parents, which regularly led to unpredictable turbulence in our community. Thus, as the singular resident not yet of legal drinking age, I was often alone in a tumultuous environment. Furthermore, my anxiety felt amplified by an inability to contact anyone outside of our tiny world. As a result, the day we finally got internet access has long remained vivid in my memory. This connection felt like it offered a sense of security within unstable seclusion, and it also allowed me to explore my interests independently. All things considered, I learned many valuable lessons in an unconventional setting from my early life. I came to understand common struggles with compassion while also learning to observe, adapt, and problem-solve autonomously. Additionally, I discovered how access to resources like the internet could have a tangible impact on wellbeing. Despite the dysfunction in Magic, I felt a deep sense of community that would later inspire healthier versions of the same value.
However, I promptly created an unstable world of my own. I grew resentful toward those around me and began acting out in anger. I lost interest in school and shortly began experimenting with drugs at a young age. What I initially misjudged as harmless fun slowly degenerated into a severe dependence as I entered high school. My behavior grew increasingly harmful, which resulted in legal charges and probation. Yet I remained unwilling to change. Instead, I left Magic, discarded my studies, and prioritized my addiction. The following year deteriorated into a period of demoralization due to my decisions. Eventually, I incurred a final probation violation.
My probation officer sat across from me and presented an opportunity dressed as an ultimatum. I was to choose; to seek treatment or serve the suspended sentence in custody. Slouching in a chair across from the officer, I reluctantly agreed to accept the help he offered. It took me a long time to understand that this offer was a privilege often not afforded to many people. Shortly after that, I arrived at the Lifeline youth treatment center in Salt Lake City. For the first few weeks, I fought nearly every step of the way, as I thought this resistance displayed the strength of my will, and my refusal to change would result in my return home. However, a mounting emotion I'd been neglecting was reaching its threshold.
In one final attempt at preserving denial, I decided to flee.
Admittedly, this resulted in quite a show for my peers as they ate their lunch. Through the cafeteria window, I could be seen engaged in a short-lived pursuit across the front lawn, which abruptly halted as I was swiftly escorted to the ground by a very kind staff member who, peripherally, coached the local junior football team. Hence, while my escape effort was laughable, it was precisely absurd enough for me to come to terms with my present situation. As the football coach generously carried me back inside, the emotional floodgates seemed to open. I spent the rest of my time at Lifeline steadily addressing my past with staff and peers' support. I began to understand my pain as I learned about mental health, trauma, and class and learned how to take a solution-oriented approach when facing challenges. Furthermore, as my peers and I collectively confronted our individual experiences, I came to understand how narrow-minded I'd been in my perspectives. I recognized the privileges that allowed me to benefit in life, for example, race and proximity to wealth in the criminal justice system. I started to grasp how naive I'd been and how much harm my actions had caused. Seemingly for the first time, I learned to take accountability. My time in treatment was far more than getting clean from drugs, as it offered a healthy community experience, and I learned of my responsibilities to myself and those around me. Further, through access to mental health and educational resources at the center, I studied for the GED test and rediscovered fulfillment in learning. Indeed, I graduated rehab when I should have graduated high school, but I left treatment with my GED, a comprehensive set of new skills and perspectives, and after fourteen months, I was ready to set out into a new world.
My outcome would have been vastly different if my mother hadn't helped me begin the rest of my life. She picked me up from Lifeline just as she celebrated her third year sober. As a child, my mom endured hardships beyond my comprehension and was suddenly on her own at age thirteen. However, eventually, she would start a successful business founded upon the desire to help others succeed in the beauty industry by sharing the knowledge and skills that helped her rise out of poverty twice, once as a young woman and again, following bankruptcy in 2008. In short, my mother has been my biggest inspiration. She has given me opportunities I would not have had otherwise. After we arrived home, she helped me enroll at a trade school and later pursue a meaningful career.
My informal education continued when I was hired as a corporate trainer in a franchise system. Though I was only eighteen, I was fortunate to have mentors willing to dedicate time and effort to share their knowledge with me and entrust me with responsibilities. My first training was to onboard a team at a new salon. Suddenly, I found myself on a plane to Massachusetts, where I'd learn how to rent a car, navigate roundabouts with white knuckles in Boston's traffic, and track expenses before making my debut. I spent hours preparing, so I felt confident teaching the material and supporting teams as salons organized to open. However, I later realized I was often the youngest person in the room, seemingly telling others what to do. Unsurprisingly, resistance from trainees and franchisees often confronted me. Thus, I had many lessons of substance ahead of me in communication, conflict resolution, and leadership best practices. Despite being the trainer, I regularly felt that I was the one who learned the most. Subsequent roles presented different challenges, which continued my education in a non-traditional setting. I learned practical skills such as writing training programs, project management, and business technologies and continued developing problem-solving, creative solutions, strategy development, and implementation tactics. In addition, my work continued to present me with opportunities to refine my communication skills and my approach to leadership. And so, with the support of those around me, I was fortunate to develop critical abilities in a fast-paced, corporate setting.
The influence of technology is certainly not unique to me, but I am immensely aware of its impact on my life. I've often relied on software and online resources to expand my horizons, and this theme continued as I started to branch out beyond my job. First, I began to work through open-source projects to learn the basics of web development, which later inspired my interest in different things like the Women in Red wikiproject. Finally, I enrolled in non-credit courses on design and marketing, which ultimately supported my move into a new creative position in my career and later helped me begin my work in freelance illustration. Through this freelancing, I cultivated a vibrant digital community. In addition, I collaborated with some favorite artists and supported non-profit organizations that aimed to help individuals in the criminal justice system.
A final call for growth would come through a merger and acquisition, as the company I'd worked for announced it was being sold. I was offered a role within the centralized team, overseeing five national brands, and immediately recognized the opportunity. However, another call from within had steadily grown. I reflected on the challenges I'd faced, the mentorship and community support I received, and the initiative I had taken over the last seven years. I then recalled the lesson my mom had taught me in the value of pursuing meaningful work. In this reflection, my values, interests, skills, and opportunities for growth seemed to coalesce into a new direction. After the merger and acquisition, I successfully worked independently and prepared to seek higher education.
I do not see my non-traditional education as a hindrance nor solely as a triumph of individual will. On the contrary, it was a culmination of profound situations that challenged -and more often supported-my growth. From an intense upbringing to a galvanizing career, I believe that my non-traditional experience has prepared me with the tenacity to pursue a rigorous academic study. I am dedicated to learning and pursuing a field where I can be the most effective in helping people; thus, I plan to pursue a degree in Computer Science. I am particularly interested in human-computer interaction and computer-aided graphics and animation, and my ultimate goal is to seek a higher degree program.
A degree in Computer Science from Columbia's School of General Studies would be integral to my future. It would also be an honor to learn from educators whose work I admire, such as Steven K. Feiner in the CGUI Lab and Brian Smith and Lydia Chinton, whose respective work in social computation and computational design has been of great interest to me.
As a non-traditional student, I would thrive in an environment like that cultivated by Columbia's preeminent, holistic approach to education. In addition, the collective diversity of experiences and the commitment to social justice and wellbeing are profoundly motivating to me. The vibrant student activity opportunities, such as the Girls Who Code group and the Women & Femme Center of Discussion spaces, are essential in what I'm seeking for a well-rounded educational experience. It would be an immense honor to learn from and study alongside the School of General Studies community.