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❶It is ultimately the unconscious gaps in these narratives that are responsible for many of the man-made problems this world faces. As it prepares to take its first step into the unknown, a monstrous vehicle with 18 wheels made of metal whizzes by, leaving behind a trail of gray exhaust.

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A sample personal statement for college is useful for:
Scholarships, Financial Aid, Student Loans and Colleges
Why Do Colleges Ask For an Essay?

Overcoming a Setback Before After. Is your personal statement strong enough? Education Before After Subject Matter: Career Aspirations Before After. Globalization Before After Subject Matter: Residency Experience Before After. Use an Admission Essay Sample to Learn About Application Essays When prospective students begin preparing their applications, one of the most daunting tasks they face is writing a great essay or statement of purpose. Take a look at the prompt or question. Try to figure out why the author decided to write what he or she did based on the prompt provided.

Ask yourself what you learned about the applicant from the essay. As it is always with high-level papers, there is sadly no tried recipe. First, you need to consider your audience. Most likely, your statement will be read by professors who serve on the admissions committee. What might they be looking for in candidates?

What are their core areas of interest? How to convince them that you are tailored to study on their campus? Writing personal statement professionally is your only opportunity to stand out among other applicants, not your grades and achievements.

So define the context and get the ball rolling! If the task seems overwhelming for you, we have someone highly qualified for you. She had a nine year old son named Cody. I would babysit Cody every day after school for at least two to three hours.

He would talk a lot about his friends and school life, and I would listen to him and ask him the meanings of certain words. He was my first friend in the New World. She had recently delivered a baby, so she was still in the hospital when I moved into their house. The Martinez family did almost everything together.

We made pizza together, watched Shrek on their cozy couch together, and went fishing on Sunday together. On rainy days, Michael, Jen and I would sit on the porch and listen to the rain, talking about our dreams and thoughts.

Within two months I was calling them mom and dad. After I finished the exchange student program, I had the option of returning to Korea but I decided to stay in America.

I wanted to see new places and meet different people. After a few days of thorough investigation, I found the Struiksma family in California. They were a unique group. The host mom Shellie was a single mom who had two of her own sons and two Russian daughters that she had adopted. The kids always had something warm to eat, and were always on their best behavior at home and in school.

In the living room were six or seven huge amplifiers and a gigantic chandelier hung from the high ceiling. The kitchen had a bar. At first, the non-stop visits from strangers made me nervous, but soon I got used to them. I remember one night, a couple barged into my room while I was sleeping.

In the nicest way possible, I told them I had to leave. The Ortiz family was my fourth family. Kimberly, the host mom, treated me the same way she treated her own son. She made me do chores: I fixed dinner, fed their two dogs Sassy and Lady, and once a week I cleaned the bathroom. I also had to follow some rules: No food in my room, no using the family computer, no lights on after midnight, and no ride unless it was an emergency. The first couple of months were really hard to get used to, but eventually I adjusted.

I lived with the Ortiz family for seven months like a monk in the deep forest. It was unexpected and I only had a week to find a new host family. I asked my friend Danielle if I could live with her until I found a new home. The Dirksen family had three kids. They were all different. Danielle liked bitter black coffee, Christian liked energy drinks, and Becca liked sweet lemon tea.

After dinner, we would all play Wii Sports together. I was the king of bowling, and Dawn was the queen of tennis. Afterward, we would gather in the living room and Danielle would play the piano while the rest of us sang hymns. Of course, those 28 months were too short to fully understand all five families, but I learned from and was shaped by each of them. By teaching me English, nine year-old Cody taught me the importance of being able to learn from anyone; the Martinez family showed me the value of spending time together as a family; the Struiksma family taught me to reserve judgment about divorced women and adopted children; Mrs.

I have learned how to recognize when someone needs to talk, when I should give advice and when to simply listen, and when someone needs to be left alone; in the process, I have become much more adaptable. He buries a series of essence images in his first paragraphs one per family. When he reveals each lesson at the end, one after the other, we sense how all these seemingly random events are connected. We realize this writer has been carefully constructing this piece all along; we see the underlying structure.

Each of the first five paragraphs works to SHOW. See how distinct each family is? He does this through specific images and objects.

Why did he just show us all these details? To demonstrate what each family has taught him. He also goes one step further. So what am I going to do with all these lessons? Identify your single greatest strength in this case, it was his ability to adapt to whatever life gave him.

Ortiz taught me the value of discipline. This essay was written for a scholarship at UCLA, but will work for a variety of topics, including several of the UC prompts: The Student Life editor is in agony because his Siblings page needs two reshoots, and he has one shot at getting good pictures. Further down the line of computers, a Tech Arts guy is working with a girl from Academics on proofing the cover graphics, while a mixed group heads out to interview students for the people pages.

This is what it takes to win Best High School Yearbook at both the state and national levels. Yearbook kids knew which classes everyone was in, they knew which kids were into what extracurricular, and perhaps most importantly, they knew everyone at school. From freshmen to seniors to faculty, yearbook gave them a connection to everyone.

Yearbook kids radiated serene confidence in themselves and their work. This essay was written for the U of Chicago "Create your own prompt" essay. The author included the following explanatory note: I plan to double major in biochemistry and English and my main essay explains my passion for the former; here is a writing sample that illustrates my enthusiasm for the latter.

In my AP Literature class, my teacher posed a question to which students had to write a creative response. A manicured green field of grass blades cut to perfectly matched lengths; a blue expanse ornamented with puffy cotton clouds; an immaculately painted red barn centered exactly at the top of a hill--the chicken gazes contentedly at his picturesque world.

Within an area surrounded by a shiny silver fence, he looks around at his friends: On a day as pristine as all the others, the chicken is happily eating his lunchtime meal as the nice man carefully gathers the smooth white eggs when it notices that the man has left one behind. Strangely located at the empty end of the metal enclosure, highlighted by the bright yellow sun, the white egg appears to the chicken different from the rest.

The chicken moves towards the light to tacitly inform the man of his mistake. But then the chicken notices a jagged gray line on the otherwise flawless egg. Hypnotized and appalled, the chicken watches as the line turns into a crack and a small beak attached to a fuzzy yellow head pokes out. Suddenly a shadow descends over the chicken and the nice man snatches the egg--the baby chick--and stomps off.

The chicken--confused, betrayed, disturbed--slowly lifts its eyes from the now empty ground. For the first time, it looks past the silver fence of the cage and notices an unkempt sweep of colossal brown and green grasses opposite its impeccably crafted surroundings.

Cautiously, it inches closer to the barrier, farther from the unbelievable perfection of the farm, and discovers a wide sea of black gravel. Stained with gray stones and marked with yellow lines, it separates the chicken from the opposite field. The curious chicken quickly shuffles to Mother Hen, who has just settled on to her throne of hay and is closing her eyes. I-I just saw one of those eggs, cracking, and there was a small yellow bird inside.

It was a baby. Are those eggs that the nice man takes away babies? And that black ground! Her eyes flick open. Frozen in disbelief, the chicken tries to make sense of her harsh words. It replays the incident in its head. Maybe Mother Hen is right. She just wants to protect me from losing it all.

What if it was hers? The chicken knows it must escape; it has to get to the other side. Then the man reaches into the wooden coop, his back to the entrance. With a backwards glance at his friends, the chicken feels a profound sadness and pity for their ignorance.

It wants to urge them to open their eyes, to see what they are sacrificing for materialistic pleasures, but he knows they will not surrender the false reality.

Alone, the chicken dashes away. The chicken stands at the line between green grass and black gravel. As it prepares to take its first step into the unknown, a monstrous vehicle with 18 wheels made of metal whizzes by, leaving behind a trail of gray exhaust. Once it regains its breath, it moves a few inches onto the asphalt. Three more speeding trucks stop its chicken heart. He gives us food, and a home. But the chicken dismisses the cowardly voice in its head, reminding itself of the injustice back in the deceptively charming prison.

Over the next several hours, it learns to strategically position itself so that it is in line with the empty space between the tires of passing trucks.

It reaches the yellow dashes. A black blanket gradually pushes away the glowing sun and replaces it with diamond stars and a glowing crescent. It reaches the untouched field. With a deep breath, the chicken steps into the swathe, a world of tall beige grass made brown by the darkness. Unsure of what it may discover, it determines to simply walk straight through the brush, out on to the other side.

For what seems like forever, it continues forward, as the black sky turns to purple, then blue, then pink. Just as the chicken begins to regret its journey, the grass gives way to a vast landscape of trees, bushes, flowers--heterogeneous and variable, but nonetheless perfect. In a nearby tree, the chicken spots two adult birds tending to a nest of babies--a natural dynamic of individuals unaltered by corrupt influence. And then it dawns on him.

It has escaped from a contrived and perverted domain as well as its own unawareness; it has arrived in a place where the pure order of the world reigns. Back home, I need to try to foster awareness among my friends, share this understanding with them.

Otherwise, I am as cruel as the man in the plaid shirt, taking away the opportunity to overcome ignorance. Essay written for the University of Chicago prompt. To resolve the matter, please choose one of the following:. Rock beats scissors, scissors beats paper, and paper beats rock. Since when has a sheet of loose leaf paper ever defeated a solid block of granite? Do we assume that the paper wraps around the rock, smothering the rock into submission?

When exposed to paper, is rock somehow immobilized, unable to fulfill its primary function of smashing scissors? What constitutes defeat between two inanimate objects? Perhaps paper is rooted in the symbolism of diplomacy while rock suggests coercion. But does compromise necessarily trump brute force?

And where do scissors lie in this chain of symbolism? I guess the reasoning behind this game has a lot to do with context. If we are to rationalize the logic behind this game, we have to assume some kind of narrative, an instance in which paper might beat rock. As with rock-paper-scissors, we often cut our narratives short to make the games we play easier, ignoring the intricate assumptions that keep the game running smoothly.

We accept incomplete narratives when they serve us well, overlooking their logical gaps. But who actually wants to play a game of rock-paper-scissors?

Studies have shown that there are winning strategies to rock-paper-scissors by making critical assumptions about those we play against before the round has even started.

In this sense, the seemingly innocuous game of rock-paper-scissors has revealed something quite discomforting about gender-related dispositions in our society. Why did so many males think that brute strength was the best option? If social standards have subliminally influenced the way males and females play rock-paper-scissors, than what is to prevent such biases from skewing more important decisions?

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Are you writing a college essay or personal statement for college applications? Here's a simple explanation of what a personal statement is and how to write a strong college essay. What Is a Personal Statement? Everything You Need to Know About the College Essay. Posted by Alex Heimbach For example, writing about your role as . Cover Letter for Internship Sample; Legal Guidelines for Paid/Unpaid Internships; Benefits of College How to Write your Personal Statement in 4 Easy Steps The Fastweb Team simplifies writing your personal statement for college applications in four easy steps. The Fastweb Team.