Once the exterior of the car is dirt free, I shift gears to the interior. As I wipe the dashboard, I am surprised to see the odometer now tallies nearly 45,000 miles. I have traveled a long way, not only in distance, but also in self-confidence. I recently drove up to Los Angeles and faced Friday rush-hour traffic. I abandoned my naturally timid behavior and became an assertive driver amidst the other honking, weekend-starved travelers. As insignificant a task as this sounds to people who do it everyday, this was a huge leap in my self-confidence and independence.
After one final polish, I step back, and look at the masterpiece I have created. I’m confident that this product of determination and perseverance will adapt well to the uncertainty of the future. I also notice the reflection on the hood; this time I can see it clearly. It is me.
Prompt: Evaluate a significant experience, achievement, risk you have taken, or ethical dilemma you have faced and its impact on you.
Olivia Cornwell
Accepted to: University of California, Los Angeles, University of California Berkeley, New York University, Brigham Young University
Attending: Brigham Young University
Jeopardy
I remember May 7, 2009 for two reasons. It was the day I got my braces off and could
finally flaunt my much anticipated straight and white smile. It was also the day I found out that my
mother had breast cancer. My smile soon vanished.
As I reflect on this day, I’m still in awe that my perfectly ordinary life jumped a thousand
miles in the opposite direction in less time than it takes to devour a piece of chocolate cake. But
this time in my life was no sweet piece of chocolate cake. It seemed every day ended with lying
in the dark, on a pillow damp from tears, praying that my mom wouldn’t leave me yet. I had
never been so scared. My fear led me to wonder and as I walked through campus I began not just to look, but to really see the people around me. I began to wonder if their smiles were artificial; simply masks, hiding broken hearts. I realized that my problem was only one, swimming around in a sea of others’. Nobody gets through life, or even high school, unscathed.
I believe this was the moment in my life that I realized what I love. I love ballet and
playing the guitar; I love listening to Christmas music and watching “Jeopardy”. But more than
anything, I love people.
When my mom was in the most pain, at her lowest, she still worried more for me than
herself. I realized that though she had lost her hair and her body had become so fragile, she was
even more beautiful and strong than ever before. It shouldn’t have had to take cancer to get me to open my eyes and see the beauty in everyone. When we let ourselves love someone, we see them for who they really are. I learned that judgements never hold true. A pair of ill-fitting, hand-me-down jeans can’t tell us if someone is kind. No amount of makeup can tell us if someone is honest.
It’s impossible to know the incredible feats someone has accomplished or the pain
someone has felt, simply by looking at them. Every person has a divine nature; every person is a sliver of hope for the future. When I think of the power people can have when they open their
hearts and accept each other, my smile makes a very welcome reappearance.
Paige Griffiths
Accepted to: University of California Santa Barbara, University of San Francisco, Loyola University Chicago, Depaul University, American University, Boston University, Northeastern University, Columbia College Chicago.
Attending: Boston University
Better Than a Movie Clip
Five bullet points, one sheet of paper, and a plane ticket taking me halfway across the globe-- that’s all I started out with when I decided to spend one month of my summer in Ladakh, India. I left expecting the next month of my life to be similar to movie clips from Slumdog Millionaire and blurs of saris and bhindis. I didn’t know that when they said we were going to work at a school, we’d be staying with kids our own age in a completely self-sustainable green house. I didn’t know that when they said we were going to take a “trek” through the mountains, we would be backpacking without showers for 10 days, 13,000 feet above sea level in the Himalayas. Despite this fact, I knew what I wanted. I wanted to experience a different lifestyle, eat different food, meet different people, and see perspectives completely different from my isolated San Diego home. And, of course, I left with an experience that no movie clip could do justice.
I lived with composting toilets, handmade solar panels, and irrigation systems, bucket showers, and kids my age who were expecting me to help them with their English. I was given one roll of toilet paper and relied on my 30-pound suitcase to sustain me for the next month. My life became a routine: wake up, eat, work, teach, eat, rest, eat, sleep. Such a simple routine, yet I managed to go to bed reflecting on who I’d met, what I’d eaten, and what I’d learned each day.
After living in the school for a few days, I noticed the way each Ladakhi girl covered not only her entire body but her feet as well. I saw a Ladakhi boy looking quizzically at my camera every time he saw a flash appear out of nowhere. I realized that even though these kids were living in a place where having a cell phone was like having a G5 airplane, for them, every day was like winning the lottery. And then, as I started molding to their way of living, I put my Ipod and Kindle back into my luggage and began to walk in their shoes. With that came an experience beyond what the five-point itinerary told me. As I taught them English, I started noticing the way their faces secretly lit up with joy when they phrased a statement correctly. I started to feel that when I gave a Ladakhi girl a hug, her embrace lasted long after she let go; but her impact lasted even longer. While I didn’t come home as a new person--I’m still the same quirky, adventurous young adult I was before this journey began--I came home sprinkled with the ability to understand a new form of communication: one of compassion, gratefulness, and buoyancy--a language I needed to hear before I could genuinely speak.
Rachel Grant
Accepted: University of Oregon, University of Vermont, University of California Santa Cruz, University of California Davis
Attending: University of Oregon
THE UNEXPECTED
At my age, dying is not something I like to think about often. On a warm January night, though, that thought almost became a reality. I was unaware of the dangers that lurked around me.
What sixteen year old could have known? I drove through the intersection when suddenly I felt
something hit me hard. I spun out of control, then everything stopped. Was I dead? The smell
of gasoline was overpowering. I looked at the crushed door to my left and crawled through the
shattered window to escape, falling to the pavement below. I soon realized I had been hit by a
driver who had run through a stop sign. For the first time that night I experienced the fear of
dying.
After the accident, I was in and out of school. My body had gashes all over, and the pain from my sprained back and neck were acute. I tried to focus, despite the pain. Just as I was beginning to feel stronger, I was diagnosed with Mononucleosis. The thought of missing more school was terrifying. Dealing with Mono was a struggle. I was constantly tired. When I returned to school, I could barely get through the day, and had to sleep during the afternoons. I had missed so many tests and quizzes that I wasn’t sure if I was ever going to catch up, but I was determined not to give up. There was no way I would permit myself to fail a class because of something that was beyond my control. I didn’t have a choice; I had to motivate myself.
After a long winter and difficult spring, it was finally summer, and my grades were in my
mailbox. I nervously opened the envelope and began to cry when I saw my results. Not only
had I passed all my classes, but I had also exceeded my expectations. I had proven to myself that I could endure anything
if I put my mind to it.
Things never happen the way we plan them; life is unpredictable. Throughout this low point in my life, I found the strength and courage to succeed. I learned that if I really push myself, I can accomplish anything. Today I speak to other teens about my accident, and the importance of driving safely. I teach them to be defensive drivers because we never know what can happen on the road. I have discovered that the choices I make affect not only me, but others as well. The driver who caused my accident made a choice to drive impaired and his actions almost took my life. Before the accident I took life for granted. I now live with more meaning and purpose. I
value the time I spend with my family and friends. I hope that no one has to experience what I
did. It was a dark time for me, but I was able to find the light that led me back to where I’m
supposed to be.
How can you contribute to the cultural diversity and atmosphere on campus?
Anonymous
Accepted: University of Oregon, University of Colorado at Boulder, University of Washington
Attending: Community College
Travel Arrangements
The school exit seemed awkward and strange even after walking through these doors a whole semester. The sky was dark with clouds; the darkness mirrored the ground, which was iced with snow that had been tramped brown. As I walked out of the doors one final time, my mind clouded with thoughts of how my life would change once again. I should have been staying another three years and dreaded going back home again after I adjusted to life in another country and forged friendships with people from dozens of nations. Joel and Max, two other new kids who I connected with from day one, felt like they would be life-long friends. Now, I was leaving after a few short months. Six months of changes reset in a matter of days. It seemed unreal. I assumed everything would go back to the way it was. The rain hit my face with an icy sting as I walked to the taxi and handed over the fare. The driver’s simple response ”Cheers,” as I climbed inside.
Moving to England changed my life forever by showing different aspects of the world that I had yet to experience. My schools growing up had been a cliquey mess, but this school was different. Students were still part of different groups, but they were able to put aside their differences and rely on common ground to make friends. The majority of the students had also moved to the ACS International School in the past two years. School basketball and rugby games, band performances, plays, and dance shows with away events in other countries brought everyone together. School events, such as the weeklong trip to Wales, were created to get the new freshman students to connect for a week with fellow students. That trip brought me closer than anything due to the vicious struggle of a hike over the top of a mountain near Bangor College, in the UK, where we stayed during the trip. The hike in the pouring rain and sleet, had winds that knocked us over causing hilarious but scary moments while climbing. Personal friendships were created with people from Germany, Sweden, France, Russia, Wales, Turkey, and Spain. Friendships that proved stronger than any I had experienced.
When I returned home, I was slammed back into reality. Walking onto my old campus surprised me. The drastically different groups of people, football players, soccer players, water sports, debate club, and the thespians filled the school grounds without talking to one another. I couldn’t find a place to fit into this old yet strange world. Even my closest friends changed and separated while I was gone. This helped me understand that everyone is different but can still be brought together. College is my next step, and although I am unsure where I will be going in life, I just need the college to help me get to the next stage. The constant changes set me back, but I cannot let that affect my future success.
How has a life experience made you who you are?
Zach Rice
Accepted:BYU Idaho
Attending: BYU Idaho
On most of these applications, one sees a large variety of somber stories told of a tragic life. I’ll tell you right now, I don’t have one of those, whether that is good or bad. My life is simple. Most of my experiences are fun and enjoyable, and that’s what I’m going to talk about, one of my passions, and not a sob story.
Backpacking is a spiritually uplifting experience, the kind where you feel closer to the heavens. After a day or two, my feet begin to blister and the pain is felt in every struggling step that I take. The weight of my pack seems to multiply after everyday. My shoulders are sore, and my back is burning with the constant chafe every step brings. Why would anyone do this one might ask? It’s not the pain that I strive for, but the joy and peacefulness that accompanies the pain and struggles. The high reaching pine trees and the spanning mountain ranges are what makes one small trip all worth it. The snow that covers some of the trails lingers all summer just to experience the smell that the sweet spring water running through a brook and to see the ice covered lake gleam and turn to a turquoise blue in the early afternoon. To breathe in the soft summer air is a prize that cannot be bought. That experience is brand new and just as exciting every time.
The food is awful. Never in my life would I choose to eat those disgusting Mountain Meals if I had the choice. But it’s all part of the sacrifice that is made for the rewards, whether they are mental, physical, emotional, or even spiritual. This is the type of experience that describes me. I would do almost anything to reach my goals, and I would go through the pains and struggles of great proportions to attain those few seconds of peaceful harmony with nature and all of the wonderful things that God has given us to enjoy, even if they are in the back mountains where few travel. It is all about the journey, not the destination.
If there was an influential person in your life, describe your experience with them and how it has shaped what you want to do in your future.
Anonymous
Accepted:Sacred Heart, Drexel, Seaton Hall, Mcdaniel
Attending: University of Rochester
When I was young, like most kids, I played almost every sport and loved something about each of them. The problem was, none stood above the rest as a sport that I wanted to pursue with a passion. In the summer following sixth grade, it found me.
That summer, my grandpa invited me on a golf trip in Northern Nevada. I had never golfed outside a thirty-mile radius of my house, so naturally I was ecstatic. I was not only going to be able to spend time with my grandpa, but play a game I was soon to love.
Our first round of golf was on a particularly dry, blistering summer day and my mouth was parched. As the round ended, all I wanted to do was go inside, get a glass of cold water, and soothe my throat. My grandpa was going to have none of it, telling me, “Grab your putter and meet me on the putting green.” I had putted multiple times that day and I was upset, yet it had never occurred to me to do something about it. For the next hour, he guided me through multiple putting drills, and to my excitement, my putting drastically improved. My grandpa taught me a priceless lesson that day, as he awoke me to the reality of what it takes to be a successful golfer. From that day on, after every round of golf, I ask myself what needs improvement in my game and what I need to do to make those improvements. Those days we spent in the hot summer sun, playing and practicing together, with sweat dripping off our faces, is when golf truly became a game that I wanted to play and explore for years to come.
Over the years, I began to realize that the lessons that my grandpa taught me on the golf course were also lessons that I could apply to the rest of my life. Those lessons are responsible for many of my character traits that emerge every day, on and off the golf course. When he taught me that I needed to learn from my mistakes on the course, I now understand that he was teaching me to learn from the mistakes I made in all areas of my life. My Grandpa showed me that treating people with respect on and off the golf course is an essential character trait that should never be absent in my behavior. He instilled in me a work ethic that I have used not only to become an accomplished golfer, but also to become a better student
and a more successful person in today’s world. While my grandpa intended to teach me all of these values and qualities to improve my golf, he more importantly helped better me as a person. I can only hope that one day I will shape someone as my grandpa has shaped me.
KPF
Accepted: Yale
Attending: Yale **Athletic Admittance
The Next Rung
It was at that moment, when I was five feet from the top of the course, just five
feet from victory, that I had a panic attack. As I clung to the ladder, unable to pull myself
up enough to get my feet under me, I realized that I had no choice but to ascend the
next rung. After twenty minutes of convincing myself that I was going to rot atop this
stupid rope course, I had a sudden fleeting thought of my grandfather. He would have
broken down in a fit of laughter just by looking at me suspended a hundred feet above
the ground on a ladder too big for me to climb. My grandpa would never have been in
my situation, for he was so adventurous and courageous that nothing would have
stopped him from exploring every inch of this giant jungle gym. I imagined that I could
hear his boisterously loud voice beside me, telling me that I could do it, and convincing
me that the more negatively I felt, the more likely I was to never succeed. His
confidence flooded my body, and I felt adrenaline pumping through me as I lifted myself
up with all my might, managing to struggle my way into a standing position on the
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