Please write an essay (250-500 words) on a topic of your choice or on one of the options listed below. This personal essay helps us to become acquainted with you as a person and student, apart from courses, grades, test scores, and other objective data. It will also demonstrate your ability to organize your thoughts and express yourself.
Having grown up in a in a town with a minority population of just over four percent (and even that number seems unrealistically high), as a child, I was rarely exposed to the diversity of the outside world. Cinco de Mayo, the town's only "authentic" Mexican restaurant, was ironically owned by a family of Irish Americans, and it was not until middle school that I came in contact with a peer of another race. Only on trips to nearby Niagara Falls or down South to visit relatives was I exposed to the country's supposed diversity.
My first experience with an interest in foreign languages and cultures came at the age of six. As I walked through Disney World with my family on my first trip to what at the time seemed like heaven, I was amused, not only by the many rides and attractions, but also by the different languages and ethnicities that surrounded me. It was like nothing I had ever heard before. I stared until the voice of my mother snapped me back to reality. "It's not polite to stare." "They're no different than you and I." Little did she know, I was not staring because I thought they were weird or different. I didn't intend to make them feel uncomfortable. I was merely interested. I wanted to know what the words meant and how each sentence was formed. I wanted to know what their names were and where they came from. Instead, abiding with society's obligations, I obeyed my mother and turned away. However, the interest remained.
Unfortunately, the environment in which I was raised did not give me the opportunity to learn much about this world I had just realized existed. Just as my peers, I was sheltered from much of the outside world. My family rarely watched the news in my presence, for fear that I might realize the evils of the world, and even my mother made it seem like there was a chance we might be murdered on every trip into the city of Buffalo. None of us truly knew the "real world," not even those who in my childish mind were the smartest people on earth. We still don't know.
Now, as I'm preparing to leave everything I have ever known for a life on my own, to explore the world and pursue my passion of linguistic and ethnic studies, I am being held back by others' opinions of me. They tell me I'm too ignorant and naïve, that I don't know enough about the world. I admit that I am naïve; but maybe it's better that way. When one is naïve and unaware of the corruption in this world, he is fearless and most capable of growing. I yearn for the opportunity to one day be dauntless in my adventures, to change the world without holding back, and to embrace my naïveté, for as Friedrich Schiller once said, "Every true genius is bound to be naïve."
I would greatly appreciate any feedback!
Having grown up in a in a town with a minority population of just over four percent (and even that number seems unrealistically high), as a child, I was rarely exposed to the diversity of the outside world. Cinco de Mayo, the town's only "authentic" Mexican restaurant, was ironically owned by a family of Irish Americans, and it was not until middle school that I came in contact with a peer of another race. Only on trips to nearby Niagara Falls or down South to visit relatives was I exposed to the country's supposed diversity.
My first experience with an interest in foreign languages and cultures came at the age of six. As I walked through Disney World with my family on my first trip to what at the time seemed like heaven, I was amused, not only by the many rides and attractions, but also by the different languages and ethnicities that surrounded me. It was like nothing I had ever heard before. I stared until the voice of my mother snapped me back to reality. "It's not polite to stare." "They're no different than you and I." Little did she know, I was not staring because I thought they were weird or different. I didn't intend to make them feel uncomfortable. I was merely interested. I wanted to know what the words meant and how each sentence was formed. I wanted to know what their names were and where they came from. Instead, abiding with society's obligations, I obeyed my mother and turned away. However, the interest remained.
Unfortunately, the environment in which I was raised did not give me the opportunity to learn much about this world I had just realized existed. Just as my peers, I was sheltered from much of the outside world. My family rarely watched the news in my presence, for fear that I might realize the evils of the world, and even my mother made it seem like there was a chance we might be murdered on every trip into the city of Buffalo. None of us truly knew the "real world," not even those who in my childish mind were the smartest people on earth. We still don't know.
Now, as I'm preparing to leave everything I have ever known for a life on my own, to explore the world and pursue my passion of linguistic and ethnic studies, I am being held back by others' opinions of me. They tell me I'm too ignorant and naïve, that I don't know enough about the world. I admit that I am naïve; but maybe it's better that way. When one is naïve and unaware of the corruption in this world, he is fearless and most capable of growing. I yearn for the opportunity to one day be dauntless in my adventures, to change the world without holding back, and to embrace my naïveté, for as Friedrich Schiller once said, "Every true genius is bound to be naïve."
I would greatly appreciate any feedback!
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