Why Tufts? (50-100 words)
An older friend of mine once described Tufts as a "more diverse, international and basically better" version of his Boston-area school. When I stumbled across the description of a Tufts class called "Latino Music, Migration and Identity" while flipping through the university's course catalog, I sensed that he was onto something. In a sea of selective Northeastern schools with nearly identical student and academic cultures, Tufts is a striking exception. For all its quirks and the unmatched passion of its student body, I've fallen in love with the school atop Walnut Hill.
Which aspects of Tufts' curriculum or undergraduate experience prompt your application? In short: "Why Tufts?" (Suggested length is 50-100 words.)There is a Quaker saying: "Let your life speak." Describe the environment in which you were raised-your family, home, neighborhood or community-and how it influenced the person you are today. (Suggested length 200-250 words)
I am the son of two parents who hail from radically different backgrounds. My mother, born into a family of working-class Polish immigrants, was reared in the blue-collar quadrant of my city (known universally among locals as "the West Side.") My father, on the other hand, was born and raised in what is known colloquially as "the East Side," the city's Anglo-Saxon, affluent suburbs. Needless to say, the courtship period of their relationship was basically an updated, Upstate New York version of Arthur Laurent's West Side Story (with slight modifications to the character's ethnic backgrounds and without the awful death of the play's male protagonist at the ending of it.)
In my life's retelling of the famed 1950s classic, the Polish Maria always stayed true to her humble upbringing, dedicating her adult life to providing social services to impoverished, disadvantaged communities in the city of Rochester's broken neighborhoods. Her progressiveness and strong sense of social responsibility has always complemented - or perhaps contrasted - the entrepreneurial, free-market spirit of her Tony, the financially successful son of a pull-yourself-up-by-your-bootstraps business owner and Vietnam draft officer. My childhood exposure to this parental duality of worldviews has impressed upon me the ability to truly comprehend and sympathize with views unlike my own. (After all, during my nine-month stay in my mother's womb, I had no choice but to listen to my parents combatively debate the merits of Bill Clinton's famous welfare reform legislation. I've been able to empathize with both sides of the coin ever since.)
My unfailingly charitable mother's commitment to social justice has instilled in me a passion for community-based work, while my father's entrepreneurial ambition and success has equipped me with the knowledge that with determination and finesse, no goal is out of reach. With the initiative of my father and the selflessness of my mother in hand, I am determined to actualize change in the community as a leader and advocate. Here's to a West Side Story with a considerably more fruitful conclusion!
What makes you happy?
I subscribe to the age-old maxim that "the greatest happiness comes from making others happy." Don't get me wrong; I am perfectly content with curling up with a good book or collapsing on the living room couch to catch up on the latest episode of Law & Order: SVU. With a heavy academic workload and a demanding plate of extracurricular activities on my table at all times of the year, this guy needs some "me-time" to stay sane. Nevertheless, such activities never fail to give rise to a gnawing, irrepressible sense of restlessness. But when I'm helping a debate teammate to perfect their oratorical delivery skills or putting a smile on a three year-old Nepali refugee's face with a simple game of peek-a-boo, feelings of anxiety and inquietude are nowhere to be found.
If I were to author a dictionary with a philosophical edge, I would define happiness as "a natural human currency that possesses inherent value and is multiplied through person-to-person contact." My definitional justification? The observable, undeniable fact that helping another to cultivate himself or herself will always profit both individuals involved, whether it be emotionally or materially. That's why if I'm presented with the opportunity to choose between working on my Tufts admissions essays at a local Starbucks or helping a friend to tackle the Common App's' daunting personal essay, I'll much more enthusiastically opt for the latter. To quote Isabel Allende, "We only have what we give."
An older friend of mine once described Tufts as a "more diverse, international and basically better" version of his Boston-area school. When I stumbled across the description of a Tufts class called "Latino Music, Migration and Identity" while flipping through the university's course catalog, I sensed that he was onto something. In a sea of selective Northeastern schools with nearly identical student and academic cultures, Tufts is a striking exception. For all its quirks and the unmatched passion of its student body, I've fallen in love with the school atop Walnut Hill.
Which aspects of Tufts' curriculum or undergraduate experience prompt your application? In short: "Why Tufts?" (Suggested length is 50-100 words.)There is a Quaker saying: "Let your life speak." Describe the environment in which you were raised-your family, home, neighborhood or community-and how it influenced the person you are today. (Suggested length 200-250 words)
I am the son of two parents who hail from radically different backgrounds. My mother, born into a family of working-class Polish immigrants, was reared in the blue-collar quadrant of my city (known universally among locals as "the West Side.") My father, on the other hand, was born and raised in what is known colloquially as "the East Side," the city's Anglo-Saxon, affluent suburbs. Needless to say, the courtship period of their relationship was basically an updated, Upstate New York version of Arthur Laurent's West Side Story (with slight modifications to the character's ethnic backgrounds and without the awful death of the play's male protagonist at the ending of it.)
In my life's retelling of the famed 1950s classic, the Polish Maria always stayed true to her humble upbringing, dedicating her adult life to providing social services to impoverished, disadvantaged communities in the city of Rochester's broken neighborhoods. Her progressiveness and strong sense of social responsibility has always complemented - or perhaps contrasted - the entrepreneurial, free-market spirit of her Tony, the financially successful son of a pull-yourself-up-by-your-bootstraps business owner and Vietnam draft officer. My childhood exposure to this parental duality of worldviews has impressed upon me the ability to truly comprehend and sympathize with views unlike my own. (After all, during my nine-month stay in my mother's womb, I had no choice but to listen to my parents combatively debate the merits of Bill Clinton's famous welfare reform legislation. I've been able to empathize with both sides of the coin ever since.)
My unfailingly charitable mother's commitment to social justice has instilled in me a passion for community-based work, while my father's entrepreneurial ambition and success has equipped me with the knowledge that with determination and finesse, no goal is out of reach. With the initiative of my father and the selflessness of my mother in hand, I am determined to actualize change in the community as a leader and advocate. Here's to a West Side Story with a considerably more fruitful conclusion!
What makes you happy?
I subscribe to the age-old maxim that "the greatest happiness comes from making others happy." Don't get me wrong; I am perfectly content with curling up with a good book or collapsing on the living room couch to catch up on the latest episode of Law & Order: SVU. With a heavy academic workload and a demanding plate of extracurricular activities on my table at all times of the year, this guy needs some "me-time" to stay sane. Nevertheless, such activities never fail to give rise to a gnawing, irrepressible sense of restlessness. But when I'm helping a debate teammate to perfect their oratorical delivery skills or putting a smile on a three year-old Nepali refugee's face with a simple game of peek-a-boo, feelings of anxiety and inquietude are nowhere to be found.
If I were to author a dictionary with a philosophical edge, I would define happiness as "a natural human currency that possesses inherent value and is multiplied through person-to-person contact." My definitional justification? The observable, undeniable fact that helping another to cultivate himself or herself will always profit both individuals involved, whether it be emotionally or materially. That's why if I'm presented with the opportunity to choose between working on my Tufts admissions essays at a local Starbucks or helping a friend to tackle the Common App's' daunting personal essay, I'll much more enthusiastically opt for the latter. To quote Isabel Allende, "We only have what we give."
