Harvard University: лучшие эссе на бакалаврские программы 2019 года. Часть 2.
Мы продолжаем публиковать лучшие вступительные сочинения поступающих в Harvard University в 2019 году.
Laura
State: California, USA
High School: Public High School, 400 students in graduating class
Ethnicity: Asian
Gender: Female
GPA: 4.8 out of 40
SAT | ACT: Reading 740, Math 800, Writing 800
SAT Subject Tests Taken: Mathematics Level 2, US. History
Extracurriculars: Nonprofit Regional Director, U.S. Senate Page Program, Conference Founder and Director, Chair of local Junior Commission, Math Program Coach
Awards: Hearst Foundation Scholarship Recipient, Coca-Cola Scholars Program
Major: Political Science / Economics
High School: Public High School, 400 students in graduating class
Ethnicity: Asian
Gender: Female
GPA: 4.8 out of 40
SAT | ACT: Reading 740, Math 800, Writing 800
SAT Subject Tests Taken: Mathematics Level 2, US. History
Extracurriculars: Nonprofit Regional Director, U.S. Senate Page Program, Conference Founder and Director, Chair of local Junior Commission, Math Program Coach
Awards: Hearst Foundation Scholarship Recipient, Coca-Cola Scholars Program
Major: Political Science / Economics
I'ma bit of a grandma. | don't wear horn rimmed spectacles, nor perch on a rocking chair, and | certainly wish | carried hard candies in my backpack. However, | do enjoy baking: butter sizzling as it glides across heated metal like a canoe across
a glassy lake; powdered sugar fluttering through the air like glitter from a confetti cannon. Some consider themselves math, literature, or history nerds. | rifle through cookbooks, browse the internet for ingenious new recipes, and revel in this year's birthday gift: a copy of “Bread Illustrated.”
My greatest achievement in elementary school was not the perfect score on a spelling test, but the first time | mastered a batch of cookies that didn’t bear a rigidity comparable to steel. To my parents’ bewilderment, | dismissed Barbies, yo-yo's, and jump ropes in favor of a wire whisk: It was love at first sight.
Why do I bake? Sometimes it’s to thank a friend or reconnect with former colleagues, employers, and teachers. Just as often, it’s the intricate processes involved. Creating the exacting liaison between eggs and flour to create a pate & choux is,
for me, a form of meditation. And sometimes I bake to reflect and even gain insight into my other interests.
Baking pastries for my next Junior Commission meeting, | ruminated on my interviews with officers and local homeless regarding their direct experiences with human trafficking in my own community. | recalled a police detective telling me, “For a youth isolated from family and friends, it doesn’t take much to accept the exploitation because he believes trafficking is his only chance of survival. | remember thinking, “Except that your body has to be sold like a box of cereal at Safeway?” This inspired my exhibit that was presented at high schools in my county, in which a figure, made up of barcodes, stands silhouetted against a black background.
Then there was the time my political interests literally gave me food for thought. As a Senate page, | welcomed Senators and staff back from their Independence Day recess with choux 3 la créme, that perfect French amalgam of wheat, egg, butter and air we call cream puffs. I had cherry-picked the ingredients from a local farmer’s market, because local and organic is more than just a trend for me; it means contributing to the reduction of food miles and supporting small businesses rather than Big Agra. Ironically, activists that day chose to protest an aggressively lobbied pro-GMO bill by showering the Senate floor with dollar bills. Senators and staff brushed them off of their jackets while gingerly stepping around them to navigate the room.
But the elephant in the room wasn't the litter of currency, but the senators who paid more attention to corporate lobbyists than the protesters exposing their corruption. It deepened my perspective on how politics intersects our lives, farm to table. Yet, I've realized that when | feel empowered to advocate for a cause, | need to remember how the audience — legislators, for example — might view both my side and the opposing side, Sometimes they see us both as intruding groups. Other times, there are unseen advantages to acting in agreement with one side over the other or coming to a compromise.
If, as M.F.K Fisher said, “First we eat, then we do everything else,” then bakingis an avenue through which | have connected with people, causes and even intellectual pursuits. But the greatest gift that baking offers me is the responsibility to share. With this, | have realized an innate priority: to turn my talents, whether in the kitchen or an advocacy meeting, into tools to improve the welfare of others. My goal is to employ my compassion, intellect, and creativity into a career in public service. As much as I sometimes feel like a grandma, I also know a lot of grandmothers who happen to run our political system.
a glassy lake; powdered sugar fluttering through the air like glitter from a confetti cannon. Some consider themselves math, literature, or history nerds. | rifle through cookbooks, browse the internet for ingenious new recipes, and revel in this year's birthday gift: a copy of “Bread Illustrated.”
My greatest achievement in elementary school was not the perfect score on a spelling test, but the first time | mastered a batch of cookies that didn’t bear a rigidity comparable to steel. To my parents’ bewilderment, | dismissed Barbies, yo-yo's, and jump ropes in favor of a wire whisk: It was love at first sight.
Why do I bake? Sometimes it’s to thank a friend or reconnect with former colleagues, employers, and teachers. Just as often, it’s the intricate processes involved. Creating the exacting liaison between eggs and flour to create a pate & choux is,
for me, a form of meditation. And sometimes I bake to reflect and even gain insight into my other interests.
Baking pastries for my next Junior Commission meeting, | ruminated on my interviews with officers and local homeless regarding their direct experiences with human trafficking in my own community. | recalled a police detective telling me, “For a youth isolated from family and friends, it doesn’t take much to accept the exploitation because he believes trafficking is his only chance of survival. | remember thinking, “Except that your body has to be sold like a box of cereal at Safeway?” This inspired my exhibit that was presented at high schools in my county, in which a figure, made up of barcodes, stands silhouetted against a black background.
Then there was the time my political interests literally gave me food for thought. As a Senate page, | welcomed Senators and staff back from their Independence Day recess with choux 3 la créme, that perfect French amalgam of wheat, egg, butter and air we call cream puffs. I had cherry-picked the ingredients from a local farmer’s market, because local and organic is more than just a trend for me; it means contributing to the reduction of food miles and supporting small businesses rather than Big Agra. Ironically, activists that day chose to protest an aggressively lobbied pro-GMO bill by showering the Senate floor with dollar bills. Senators and staff brushed them off of their jackets while gingerly stepping around them to navigate the room.
But the elephant in the room wasn't the litter of currency, but the senators who paid more attention to corporate lobbyists than the protesters exposing their corruption. It deepened my perspective on how politics intersects our lives, farm to table. Yet, I've realized that when | feel empowered to advocate for a cause, | need to remember how the audience — legislators, for example — might view both my side and the opposing side, Sometimes they see us both as intruding groups. Other times, there are unseen advantages to acting in agreement with one side over the other or coming to a compromise.
If, as M.F.K Fisher said, “First we eat, then we do everything else,” then bakingis an avenue through which | have connected with people, causes and even intellectual pursuits. But the greatest gift that baking offers me is the responsibility to share. With this, | have realized an innate priority: to turn my talents, whether in the kitchen or an advocacy meeting, into tools to improve the welfare of others. My goal is to employ my compassion, intellect, and creativity into a career in public service. As much as I sometimes feel like a grandma, I also know a lot of grandmothers who happen to run our political system.
Marina
State: North Carolina, USA
High School: Public school, SO students in graduating class
Ethnicity: Hispanic
Gender: Female
GPA: 4.98 out of 50
SAT | ACT: 35
SAT Subject Tests Taken: Mathematics Level 2, Physics
Extracurriculars: Research, founding science fair mentoring director, founding Editor-in-Chief of student newspaper, beach volleyball, fundraising artist
Awards: Intel International Science and Engineering Fair Finalist, US Public Health Surgeon General's Special Science Award, National Hispanic Scholar, Jack Kent Cooke Semifinalist, Wayne Hanson Excellence in Science or Engineering Award
Major: Math
High School: Public school, SO students in graduating class
Ethnicity: Hispanic
Gender: Female
GPA: 4.98 out of 50
SAT | ACT: 35
SAT Subject Tests Taken: Mathematics Level 2, Physics
Extracurriculars: Research, founding science fair mentoring director, founding Editor-in-Chief of student newspaper, beach volleyball, fundraising artist
Awards: Intel International Science and Engineering Fair Finalist, US Public Health Surgeon General's Special Science Award, National Hispanic Scholar, Jack Kent Cooke Semifinalist, Wayne Hanson Excellence in Science or Engineering Award
Major: Math
My father said | didn’t cry when I was born. Instead, | popped out of the womb with a furrowed brow, looking up at him almost accusatorially, as if to say “Who are you? What am I doing here?” While I can’t speak to the biological accuracy of his story — How did I survive, then? How did | bring air into my lungs? — it's certainly true that I feel ike | came preprogrammed with the compulsion to ask questions.
| received my first journal in preschool, probably because my parents were sick of cleaning my crayon drawings off my bedroom wall. Growing up, my notebooks became the places where | explored ideas through actions in addition to words. If the face | was sketching looked broody, I began to wonder what in her life made her that way. Was she a spy? Did she just come in from the cold? Graduating from crayons to markers to colored pencils, I layered color upon color, testing out the effects of different combinations, wondering why the layering of notes in music filled me with the very same happiness as the sight of the explosion of paired colors beneath my hands.
I began to take notes, on anything and everything, Reading Steve Martin's Born Standing Up, | took away lessons on presentations, of maintaining a rhythm and allowing crescendos of energy to release every so often. While watching a documentary on people preparing for a sommelier exam, I made note of the importance of an enriching environment where most everything points you to your goals. Flipping through my old journal, I see that even an article about trouble in the South China Sea inspired notes on precedent and maintaining tradition lest you provoke the unknown. I was looking for the rules of the world.
More than just a place to catalogue my observations about the world, my notebooks are places to synthesize, to course-correct, to pinpoint areas for iterative improvement. When the words are down on paper, I see my patterns of thought and the holes in my logic stark against the white page. If I have a day of insecurity that leads to a sudden rush of journaling haracteristic of that in a teen movie, looking down at the angsty scribbles, I'll recognize my repeated thoughts and actions and look for pressure points in that system of behavior where I can improve.
Now my 2016 notebook returns to exploring the world through actions and experiments. Dozens of doughnut-shaped sketches dot pages that ask “how would you play tic-tac-toe on a torus?” Another page containing bubble letters answers the simpler question of the result of sorting these figures into groups of topological equivalences. Not two pages later are the results of a research binge on Mersenne primes that took me through perfect numbers and somehow deposited me at a Wikipedia page detailing the mathematical properties of the number 127. Once again, I look for the rules of the world.
Whenever | feel discouraged, | look to my stack of notebooks, shelved neatly by my desk. In those pages I've learned that | have room to fail and grow, to literally turn over a new leaf if a problem is particularly tricky. Through years of scribbling away, I've learned that the most fundamental part of my development has been giving myself the space to try: to sketch mangled faces, to draw the wrong conclusions, to answer a question incorrectly, and to learn from my mistakes without shame. | look to that mass of notebooks filled with my ideas, my mistakes, and my questions, and I'm reminded that I've grown before, and that I'll grow again, all the while asking questions.
| received my first journal in preschool, probably because my parents were sick of cleaning my crayon drawings off my bedroom wall. Growing up, my notebooks became the places where | explored ideas through actions in addition to words. If the face | was sketching looked broody, I began to wonder what in her life made her that way. Was she a spy? Did she just come in from the cold? Graduating from crayons to markers to colored pencils, I layered color upon color, testing out the effects of different combinations, wondering why the layering of notes in music filled me with the very same happiness as the sight of the explosion of paired colors beneath my hands.
I began to take notes, on anything and everything, Reading Steve Martin's Born Standing Up, | took away lessons on presentations, of maintaining a rhythm and allowing crescendos of energy to release every so often. While watching a documentary on people preparing for a sommelier exam, I made note of the importance of an enriching environment where most everything points you to your goals. Flipping through my old journal, I see that even an article about trouble in the South China Sea inspired notes on precedent and maintaining tradition lest you provoke the unknown. I was looking for the rules of the world.
More than just a place to catalogue my observations about the world, my notebooks are places to synthesize, to course-correct, to pinpoint areas for iterative improvement. When the words are down on paper, I see my patterns of thought and the holes in my logic stark against the white page. If I have a day of insecurity that leads to a sudden rush of journaling haracteristic of that in a teen movie, looking down at the angsty scribbles, I'll recognize my repeated thoughts and actions and look for pressure points in that system of behavior where I can improve.
Now my 2016 notebook returns to exploring the world through actions and experiments. Dozens of doughnut-shaped sketches dot pages that ask “how would you play tic-tac-toe on a torus?” Another page containing bubble letters answers the simpler question of the result of sorting these figures into groups of topological equivalences. Not two pages later are the results of a research binge on Mersenne primes that took me through perfect numbers and somehow deposited me at a Wikipedia page detailing the mathematical properties of the number 127. Once again, I look for the rules of the world.
Whenever | feel discouraged, | look to my stack of notebooks, shelved neatly by my desk. In those pages I've learned that | have room to fail and grow, to literally turn over a new leaf if a problem is particularly tricky. Through years of scribbling away, I've learned that the most fundamental part of my development has been giving myself the space to try: to sketch mangled faces, to draw the wrong conclusions, to answer a question incorrectly, and to learn from my mistakes without shame. | look to that mass of notebooks filled with my ideas, my mistakes, and my questions, and I'm reminded that I've grown before, and that I'll grow again, all the while asking questions.
Aiden
State: llinois, USA
High School: Public school, 650 students in graduating class
Ethnicity: Biracial
Gender: Female
GPA: 567 out of SO
SAT | ACT: 33
SAT Subject Tests Taken: N/A
Extracurriculars: Spanish National Honor Society president, concert band first chair alto and District IMEA, jazz band lead alto, marching band drum major, math club (State freshman, sophomore, and senior year), intern for State Representative
Awards: National AP Scholar
Major: History and Literature
High School: Public school, 650 students in graduating class
Ethnicity: Biracial
Gender: Female
GPA: 567 out of SO
SAT | ACT: 33
SAT Subject Tests Taken: N/A
Extracurriculars: Spanish National Honor Society president, concert band first chair alto and District IMEA, jazz band lead alto, marching band drum major, math club (State freshman, sophomore, and senior year), intern for State Representative
Awards: National AP Scholar
Major: History and Literature
I am African-American, Caucasian, Jewish, and gay, and narrowly escaping the degradation of my ancestors: my great-great-great grandfather's slavery, my grandmother's persecution in the Holocaust, and the denial of gay identity. I am the personification of the culture and struggles of each of these groups. As I walk through life with this mix, I must be able to respect and love all different walks of life. Furthermore, during those times that I stereotype people, I assume roles onto their identity. lam able to stop myself and realize that they hold the wisdom from experiences that | do not, and that I am actually hurting myself. Judging a book by its cover really does make you miss out. Some people I know acknowledge me as the gay guy, a member of that small minority that is stricken with bullying and identity crisis, seldom as a Jew or black. it has always been important to me for people to recognize me by my radiant personality and not by my superficial sexuality or race, My ethnicity and orientation do not define me: they are the tools my ancestors have granted so that | can pursue my destiny, and I have my individual spirit to color my path. I am an independent, positive person.
| carry the mark of maturity with the essence of vitality. I can only hope that people remember me via my relationships with them and my effects on their lives. And so I apply the same mindset to others. The snappy, aggravated cashier at the grocery store checking me out may be working through her retirement to pay for her granddaughter's tuition. Or the black youth with his jeans hanging low and "speaking Ebonics" is actually executing a facet of his culture from which he takes pride and grows. Moreover my template also allows me to be open-minded; how could I not be cultural? My ancestors would not have succeeded without those that have listened and empathized with their plights. And how could I shut my ears? I cannot; I will not. I will not allow myself to shut out another's opinion simply because | was not introduced to their beliefs in my upbringing. How ignorant and arrogant to speak my gospel and thrive on the grace of others but not even consider others’ words? Every breath I take is due to the grace of those magnanimous humans before me who not only listened to those Jews, or those slaves, or that gay person, but also took it upon themselves to advance humanity beyond close-mindedness into a world where every individual's contribution based on their experience is respected. There is never a time to neglect the social ragility of our existence, not in the courtroom or the living room. To assume the serenity of social culture is a blind eye to the macrocosm of daily life. It is my expectation to persevere for the fight for human rights and to respect the nature of all cultures and all peoples through my actions as well as my words. Itis insufficient to tell someone they are wrong for persecuting. We have to help them find no solace in their prejudice. Not only do | have a duty to argue for the progress of our humanity, | will do so by example.
| carry the mark of maturity with the essence of vitality. I can only hope that people remember me via my relationships with them and my effects on their lives. And so I apply the same mindset to others. The snappy, aggravated cashier at the grocery store checking me out may be working through her retirement to pay for her granddaughter's tuition. Or the black youth with his jeans hanging low and "speaking Ebonics" is actually executing a facet of his culture from which he takes pride and grows. Moreover my template also allows me to be open-minded; how could I not be cultural? My ancestors would not have succeeded without those that have listened and empathized with their plights. And how could I shut my ears? I cannot; I will not. I will not allow myself to shut out another's opinion simply because | was not introduced to their beliefs in my upbringing. How ignorant and arrogant to speak my gospel and thrive on the grace of others but not even consider others’ words? Every breath I take is due to the grace of those magnanimous humans before me who not only listened to those Jews, or those slaves, or that gay person, but also took it upon themselves to advance humanity beyond close-mindedness into a world where every individual's contribution based on their experience is respected. There is never a time to neglect the social ragility of our existence, not in the courtroom or the living room. To assume the serenity of social culture is a blind eye to the macrocosm of daily life. It is my expectation to persevere for the fight for human rights and to respect the nature of all cultures and all peoples through my actions as well as my words. Itis insufficient to tell someone they are wrong for persecuting. We have to help them find no solace in their prejudice. Not only do | have a duty to argue for the progress of our humanity, | will do so by example.
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