Yes it's a bit long but I manage to fit it in one page (with narrow margins:().
Please let me know what you think.
"Bryn Mawr - where all the fun comes to die", I read that in a Collegeconfidential post and instead of being turned off, I was intrigued, perhaps because I had a very different idea of what "fun" should be. Yes, I hate parties. The roaring noise drowns my thought. The swirling mass of humanity repulses me. All too often they remind me of The Great Gasby, of decadence, of cautious performance, of forlorn, disillusioned strangers subsisting on temporary pleasures instead of living a less exciting, yet purposeful life. The antithesis of this dystopia is what I expect to a college should be, and Bryn Mawr, by coincidence, cropped up to be a perfect fit.
I was born in a typical Asian family, which means we are as hard-working as any Asian is supposed to be. Although my parents are no "tigers", somehow I have learnt to defy gratification and embrace the virtue of discipline at quite a young age. I rarely go to parties, not because my parents forbid me to, but because I need little diversion other than learning itself. The frantic sojourns to the library to figure out what "postmodernism" is, the all-nighters pulled to learn about Existentialism, are what make my life meaningful. Like my mother, I want to be a teacher, and at college I want to plunge straight in and devour the great minds' thoughts: Rene Descartes, Jean Jacques Rousseau and Friedrich Nietzsche,... keep feeding me. Bryn Mawr will mark the pivot of my intellectual odyssey, where no parties will distract my inquiring mind from its relentless pursuit, where I can commit myself day and night to absorbing Athena's wisdom, spilling my academic passion over lunch and dinner with my classmates in the hope that one day I will be able to found the first liberal arts college in my country, as a tribute to the great education I have received.
I picture myself on campus, walking slowly on the bed of leaves and listening to their feeble cry beneath my feet. If there's one word that captures Bryn Mawr, it would be serenity. Bryn Mawr is a quiet place, a place for meditation, for a woman to sound her depth and let her inner voice reverberate. Virginia Woolf once said that all women must have a room of her own to write fiction. I would say in a broader sense that all women must have a quiet place, physically and mentally, to cultivate their individuality. The absence of hustle and bustle at Bryn Mawr enchants me, perhaps because I am an introvert by nature. Paddling slowly in the sea of silence, I will look and marvel at nature, at myself, constructing my philosophical soliloquy, enriching my private world. I will go snuffing around this Hogwarts campus for my Chamber of Secret, where I may lie reading in the most unladylike position and talk aloud during my thrilling trysts with books without the fear of unbidden intrusion by some strangers.
I was somewhat afraid by a senior's admonition before deciding upon applying to America. "Americans can say hello to you even without knowing who you are", she told me, "Relationship here is really shallow". However, I rest assured, for I believe that isn't true at Bryn Mawr. The Bryn Mawr I know is exclusively a place for those who wish to understand human beings with depths. The small population of students enables us to have a lot more time for one another, to patiently read each other page by page like a book and discover something new every day. Nestled in this warm and loving community and armed with a newfound sense of security, I will slowly unfold, like a trembling cherry blossom, to share my insights and experience from the faraway land called Vietnam, even in my strong accented voice, for I know my Mawter friends will listen. They do want to know. That's the beauty of an intimate relationship, the sedate pleasure of being home and being loved. That's what Bryn Mawr means to me.
Someday as an old woman I would love to tell my grandchildren a fairytale, weaving from my idyllic undergraduate years at Bryn Mawr, that once upon a time there was a princess who drifted to America, struggling in vain to find her way home. And yet, to her amazement, there she found her home, in a gorgeous Gothic castle, where she was loved, coddled and guided by her dear, dear sisters. Together they lived, as quietly as mermaids under the sea, dedicating their lives to knowledge, shining humbly but brightly like the fire they once lighted in their first Lantern Night.
Please let me know what you think.
Great Education Tribute
"Bryn Mawr - where all the fun comes to die", I read that in a Collegeconfidential post and instead of being turned off, I was intrigued, perhaps because I had a very different idea of what "fun" should be. Yes, I hate parties. The roaring noise drowns my thought. The swirling mass of humanity repulses me. All too often they remind me of The Great Gasby, of decadence, of cautious performance, of forlorn, disillusioned strangers subsisting on temporary pleasures instead of living a less exciting, yet purposeful life. The antithesis of this dystopia is what I expect to a college should be, and Bryn Mawr, by coincidence, cropped up to be a perfect fit.
I was born in a typical Asian family, which means we are as hard-working as any Asian is supposed to be. Although my parents are no "tigers", somehow I have learnt to defy gratification and embrace the virtue of discipline at quite a young age. I rarely go to parties, not because my parents forbid me to, but because I need little diversion other than learning itself. The frantic sojourns to the library to figure out what "postmodernism" is, the all-nighters pulled to learn about Existentialism, are what make my life meaningful. Like my mother, I want to be a teacher, and at college I want to plunge straight in and devour the great minds' thoughts: Rene Descartes, Jean Jacques Rousseau and Friedrich Nietzsche,... keep feeding me. Bryn Mawr will mark the pivot of my intellectual odyssey, where no parties will distract my inquiring mind from its relentless pursuit, where I can commit myself day and night to absorbing Athena's wisdom, spilling my academic passion over lunch and dinner with my classmates in the hope that one day I will be able to found the first liberal arts college in my country, as a tribute to the great education I have received.
I picture myself on campus, walking slowly on the bed of leaves and listening to their feeble cry beneath my feet. If there's one word that captures Bryn Mawr, it would be serenity. Bryn Mawr is a quiet place, a place for meditation, for a woman to sound her depth and let her inner voice reverberate. Virginia Woolf once said that all women must have a room of her own to write fiction. I would say in a broader sense that all women must have a quiet place, physically and mentally, to cultivate their individuality. The absence of hustle and bustle at Bryn Mawr enchants me, perhaps because I am an introvert by nature. Paddling slowly in the sea of silence, I will look and marvel at nature, at myself, constructing my philosophical soliloquy, enriching my private world. I will go snuffing around this Hogwarts campus for my Chamber of Secret, where I may lie reading in the most unladylike position and talk aloud during my thrilling trysts with books without the fear of unbidden intrusion by some strangers.
I was somewhat afraid by a senior's admonition before deciding upon applying to America. "Americans can say hello to you even without knowing who you are", she told me, "Relationship here is really shallow". However, I rest assured, for I believe that isn't true at Bryn Mawr. The Bryn Mawr I know is exclusively a place for those who wish to understand human beings with depths. The small population of students enables us to have a lot more time for one another, to patiently read each other page by page like a book and discover something new every day. Nestled in this warm and loving community and armed with a newfound sense of security, I will slowly unfold, like a trembling cherry blossom, to share my insights and experience from the faraway land called Vietnam, even in my strong accented voice, for I know my Mawter friends will listen. They do want to know. That's the beauty of an intimate relationship, the sedate pleasure of being home and being loved. That's what Bryn Mawr means to me.
Someday as an old woman I would love to tell my grandchildren a fairytale, weaving from my idyllic undergraduate years at Bryn Mawr, that once upon a time there was a princess who drifted to America, struggling in vain to find her way home. And yet, to her amazement, there she found her home, in a gorgeous Gothic castle, where she was loved, coddled and guided by her dear, dear sisters. Together they lived, as quietly as mermaids under the sea, dedicating their lives to knowledge, shining humbly but brightly like the fire they once lighted in their first Lantern Night.