Do my essays answer the prompt well? I assumed that most people would write about something academic, so my goal is to stand out with my answers while still showing my personality and valued traits to the admissions officers.
2. Reflect on a time in the last few years when you felt genuine excitement learning about something. (200 words)
Click goes the key. The control panel lights up in pixelated primary colors, the engine roars, and although it's just a Honda CRV, I feel invincible.
Driving was a multifaceted impetus for growth. When I started learning, there were unexpected obstacles: whether I could reach the pedals (I'm barely five feet tall) and the covert jokes in my driving class about Asian women being bad drivers. However, the scrutiny only made me more determined to succeed and amped up my anticipation for my turn to drive during class. I practiced as often as I could, and soon an innate understanding awakened. It must have been what athletes feel when their corporeal kinesthetic sense aligns with the brain's perception, except a humming motor was my throwing arm and the world was my ballpark.
Driving demands constant improvement, and the learning never stops. Every drive is a new scenario for me to hone my attention to detail and make split-second decisions. Though my destinations are commonplace, it is how I spend the trip that gives driving significance and thrill. Indeed, the journey represents tangential lessons and self-directed discoveries, and one adventure's endpoint is simply a road sign pointing to another escapade.
3. Write about something that you love to do. (200 words)
To the untrained eye, it was simply a crowded airport terminal. To me, it was a tense situation of cat and mouse, a test of wills to see whose would snap first. My eyes narrowed imperceptibly as the rival spy shifted in his seat. What was his motive? Was the symbol on his neck pillow a brand logo or a clue to his allegiance?
The boarding call interrupted my thoughts. I watched the nameless stranger tug his suitcase away, leaving behind another unfinished story.
I love people-watching and attaching fanciful explanations to ordinary interactions. Sometimes they're as grandiose as my airport narration. Most times, however, it's something simple and infinitesimal. The cashier checking her phone isn't being unprofessional; she's nervously anticipating news of her mother's surgery. The street corner beggar isn't an entitled bum; he's recovering from debilitating anxiety and it's all he can do to even be in public. This imaginative habit has instilled in me a moral principle of reserving judgment of everyone I encounter until given reason otherwise. It's a good reminder that everyone has a struggle, and even if my story of a stranger is hilariously inaccurate, that person still deserves kindness, regardless of circumstance.
2. Reflect on a time in the last few years when you felt genuine excitement learning about something. (200 words)
Driving improvement
Click goes the key. The control panel lights up in pixelated primary colors, the engine roars, and although it's just a Honda CRV, I feel invincible.
Driving was a multifaceted impetus for growth. When I started learning, there were unexpected obstacles: whether I could reach the pedals (I'm barely five feet tall) and the covert jokes in my driving class about Asian women being bad drivers. However, the scrutiny only made me more determined to succeed and amped up my anticipation for my turn to drive during class. I practiced as often as I could, and soon an innate understanding awakened. It must have been what athletes feel when their corporeal kinesthetic sense aligns with the brain's perception, except a humming motor was my throwing arm and the world was my ballpark.
Driving demands constant improvement, and the learning never stops. Every drive is a new scenario for me to hone my attention to detail and make split-second decisions. Though my destinations are commonplace, it is how I spend the trip that gives driving significance and thrill. Indeed, the journey represents tangential lessons and self-directed discoveries, and one adventure's endpoint is simply a road sign pointing to another escapade.
3. Write about something that you love to do. (200 words)
To the untrained eye, it was simply a crowded airport terminal. To me, it was a tense situation of cat and mouse, a test of wills to see whose would snap first. My eyes narrowed imperceptibly as the rival spy shifted in his seat. What was his motive? Was the symbol on his neck pillow a brand logo or a clue to his allegiance?
The boarding call interrupted my thoughts. I watched the nameless stranger tug his suitcase away, leaving behind another unfinished story.
I love people-watching and attaching fanciful explanations to ordinary interactions. Sometimes they're as grandiose as my airport narration. Most times, however, it's something simple and infinitesimal. The cashier checking her phone isn't being unprofessional; she's nervously anticipating news of her mother's surgery. The street corner beggar isn't an entitled bum; he's recovering from debilitating anxiety and it's all he can do to even be in public. This imaginative habit has instilled in me a moral principle of reserving judgment of everyone I encounter until given reason otherwise. It's a good reminder that everyone has a struggle, and even if my story of a stranger is hilariously inaccurate, that person still deserves kindness, regardless of circumstance.
