Hello! Just looking for someone to read and comment. I think I may need one or two more sentences at the end...
Thanks!
Yale Supplemental Essay
I can clearly recall the strange experience of waking up to nothing. My family and I had been traveling through the lonely stretches of desert in Utah as I awoke with a start in the back of our minivan, far from my home in sleepy suburban Shawnee, Kansas. As I sat up to look around, my eyed widened. Before us stretched the undulating ribbon of US highway 50, aptly nicknamed "the loneliest road in America." Void of any traces of humanity, the vast plains of red earth had no end in sight. Then, seemingly from nowhere, a city of stone rose from the ground. Towering, red skyscrapers of ancient rock amplified by the beautiful and terrifying gorges in between. To our left, on the sharp, flat cliffs that rose from the desert, were petroglyphs. These simple, beautiful drawings were over one thousand years old. They depicted animals roaming across the land, some tamed by their human counterparts. These illustrations were all that remained of the ancient tribe's life. I drew closer to the rock, and at that moment, I held my breath. I was in the presence of people long gone from this place. I pressed my cheek on that ancient rock and felt an echo deep in my soul. Never before had I felt so solid, yet so completely ungrounded.
The study of people and their way of communicating has always fascinated me. From ancient petroglyphs to my Spanish IV class, my pursuits of different languages and cultures consistently teach me something new. From a young age, I would return from our summer trips to Poland brimming with new vocabulary and factoids from the grandest of castles to the most humble of bakeries. When I grew older, my quests became more enthusiastic. I took tentative steps into new languages, traveled with my family, and actively searched for museums and cultural history. I recall a day last summer when I had a surprising reprieve from my job as a lifeguard. I made up my mind to visit all the historic sites and museums that tiny Old Shawnee Town had to offer - restored general stores, Native American graveyards, and small mansions from a time long since past. I went to bed that night, my mind racing with thoughts of Shawnee chiefs and resilient pioneers.
In the academic realm, I was quick to sign up for language classes, taking both Spanish and French in addition to working on Polish with my parents and grandparents. I relished finding connections between the languages and dreamt of the day when I could study abroad and be immersed in the cultures. I suppose at heart, I am an explorer. I constantly search for opportunities, adventures, and knowledge.
Thanks!
Yale Supplemental Essay
I can clearly recall the strange experience of waking up to nothing. My family and I had been traveling through the lonely stretches of desert in Utah as I awoke with a start in the back of our minivan, far from my home in sleepy suburban Shawnee, Kansas. As I sat up to look around, my eyed widened. Before us stretched the undulating ribbon of US highway 50, aptly nicknamed "the loneliest road in America." Void of any traces of humanity, the vast plains of red earth had no end in sight. Then, seemingly from nowhere, a city of stone rose from the ground. Towering, red skyscrapers of ancient rock amplified by the beautiful and terrifying gorges in between. To our left, on the sharp, flat cliffs that rose from the desert, were petroglyphs. These simple, beautiful drawings were over one thousand years old. They depicted animals roaming across the land, some tamed by their human counterparts. These illustrations were all that remained of the ancient tribe's life. I drew closer to the rock, and at that moment, I held my breath. I was in the presence of people long gone from this place. I pressed my cheek on that ancient rock and felt an echo deep in my soul. Never before had I felt so solid, yet so completely ungrounded.
The study of people and their way of communicating has always fascinated me. From ancient petroglyphs to my Spanish IV class, my pursuits of different languages and cultures consistently teach me something new. From a young age, I would return from our summer trips to Poland brimming with new vocabulary and factoids from the grandest of castles to the most humble of bakeries. When I grew older, my quests became more enthusiastic. I took tentative steps into new languages, traveled with my family, and actively searched for museums and cultural history. I recall a day last summer when I had a surprising reprieve from my job as a lifeguard. I made up my mind to visit all the historic sites and museums that tiny Old Shawnee Town had to offer - restored general stores, Native American graveyards, and small mansions from a time long since past. I went to bed that night, my mind racing with thoughts of Shawnee chiefs and resilient pioneers.
In the academic realm, I was quick to sign up for language classes, taking both Spanish and French in addition to working on Polish with my parents and grandparents. I relished finding connections between the languages and dreamt of the day when I could study abroad and be immersed in the cultures. I suppose at heart, I am an explorer. I constantly search for opportunities, adventures, and knowledge.