When he sent the final draft of his winning college admissions essay to me, Julian confirmed my sense that good things are possible. I never know if the draft I give a standing ovation is definitely the one the student has submitted (2AM last minute changes are not unthinkable). But I was glad to see this one was. Natural Talent Julian has natural writing talent which sometimes makes it even harder for a student to figure out what belongs in their admissions essays, because so much of draft is already of strong quality. Julian faced this in his capacity to entertain the reader and find dark humor in his experience. Where to stop? What needed to be said, versus just sounded good on the page? Ultimately, he was able to cut based on what aspect of his present self he most wanted to highlight and explain. I hope you enjoy his essay as much as I (and seemingly everyone on the admissions committees) did. Julian wrote: I'm proud to tell you that I have committed to Princeton! I actually got into roughly 90% of my top choices including Dartmouth, Columbia, USC, UCLA, Berkeley, Swarthmore, University of Notre Dame, UCSD and UCSB , and a few others. Julian Jimenez, Personal statement (Princeton Class of 2024) Here comes Satanás. Behold his fiery, mischievous, defiant glory. Watch him terrorize the innocent victims...of his first grade classroom. Bored, he pinballs around the room, stopping only to implement his conniving get-out-of-school-quick strategy: rubbing his eyes bloodshot, then duping the school nurse into believing he has pink eye. Every day, after his parents spoke to another irritated teacher, he was met with a disappointed, "Aquí viene Satanás!" (Here comes Satan!) Was it his fault, though? I was born to 16-year-old parents, kicked out of their homes for having me. My first memory consists of my mother silently sobbing while pushing my stroller along dark sidewalks late at night. I wondered why she Continue Reading …
Students
Reject Authority, Build Autonomy
My 7th grade class is full of "good" kids. In fact, you might even call them the "best" kids-- if you believed in ranking children. These are the kids that did all their math worksheets without being asked. The kids that were reading with a flashlight by kindergarten. The kids whose immigrant parents told them every day that if they came home with less than an A, they were going to hear about it, and so was everyone on the block. The slipper was going to come out. The Best Education Money can Buy Can't Also Buy you Autonomy These kids have already gotten far. By the 6th grade, they were accepted into TEAK Fellowship, which until 2019 accepted only 30 kids out of hundreds of applicants, to prime them for the best education money could buy. But in their case, the education would be free. It was an attempt to level the playing field, and put them in the circles where they belonged by their own merit. But what to do when-- because of your age, stage and developing personhood-- your whole body is telling you you need to strike out on your own, take risks, be autonomous? And yet, here you are, in a Fellowship, in Family Systems, that expect a lot from you? What's rebelling against authority worth? In their blood and bones, my kids understand what it is to rebel against authority. They may have read a lot about it, but most have never done it. That doesn't mean they don't know what it would taste like. Fizzzzzzzzzz and fire. They might know-- ancestrally, or because of the circles of oppression which they and their families navigate- what it means to have a colonizer breathing down your neck, making you pay at every turn for...for what? They might know what it means to not be represented in a governing body. To have people speak for you who know nothing about you, and can't handle your hair. To see that the dominant system does not have your best interests at heart, nor is able to pronounce (or remember) your last name. Gomez or Gonzalez? Continue Reading …
5 minutes in the bathroom to write your college essay
Sometimes, you bump into the subject of your writing when you're not trying-- like in the bathroom. The classier version of this is called the "shower effect"-- it's a real thing. You only need 5 minutes and faith. Often the trying itself keeps your topic at arm's length, stiffly.But not straining in trying? And simply being available? That woo-woo stuff? It often works far more effectively. GAH. How annoying and wonderful is that? JUST FIVE MINUTES? As my mentor Rick Benjamin says, "It's really five minutes + your whole life leading up to this moment." DETAILS. Give Your College Essay a "Quick Change" in the stall This afternoon, I went to the single-stall bathroom at a non-profit where I teach personal essay writing to (some of NYC's most awesome) 7th and 8th grade public school students. The door was locked, but within minutes, my student came out, fancied up: a maroon dress over a filled, collared shirt, black knee socks, and black patent leather pointy toe shoes. She was ready for her upcoming school interview. Moments before, she'd been hunched over her math worksheets, solving equations, chewing her lip and eating her sweatshirt string nervously. (Side Fact: I haven't solved an equation since puberty settled in, so I always salute students doing such worksheets, though in my case eating strings would be more productive than isolating the variable and so on. <---WHAT I RECALL FROM ALGEBRA BUT I DIGRESS.) What's I'm recommending here is, despite the number 5, not mathematical-- but you do need structure in the end. little time, big difference Thing is, I was surprised to see my student emerge from the bathroom so changed. It struck me I'd never seen her dressed up, and her whole persona and body language had shifted with the outfit. "You got this!" I told her (likely true), which is maybe the only thing worth saying right before someone has an interview. Especially when you can assume they've already done the most Continue Reading …
Student as Teacher
Or to Flip a Buddhist proverb: When the Teacher is Ready, The Student Appears! There is a cliche teachers bandy about that "our students are our teachers!" But sometimes, it's true, not just a broadly applied worldview or something we say at Happy Hour over seltzers to redeem a tough week. This summer, I got to nerd out teaching Writing Mechanics (soon re-dubbed "The Inner Life of Words") to TEAK Fellowship's 7th graders with an assistant, my former student Aaron M, who is now entering Yale as a freshman. I taught him personal essay writing and grammar when he was their age-- one of those students I knew Could Write if he wanted to. I was like, "Hey, Aaron-- (acting all casual) --could I see some of your writing?" (FEED ME!) and he agreed. "Mostly poems" he said, like they were going to be some tea-bag slogan to apologize for. Not at all. A Poem from my Student as Teacher! He often speaks like he is apologizing in advance. But "Fat", this poem he showed me? My student as teacher, totally unapologetic! He loves words, like, a lot. Sometimes shy and fumbling when he speaks spontaneously, he's anything but when he's writing. Maybe it's because I'm a mom and I'm currently preoccupied with fat phobia in our culture, but this poem (a draft, he clarified) made me stand up and salute. How come a teenage boy can figure this out, but the rest of our culture can't? Fat (A Poem for My Mother)-- **Draft, but what isn't? The skinny boy in my dorm,six-foot tall and all bones and beautiful,scoffs as he speaks of the Latin teacher he deemsfar too fatfor his youthful thirty-six years.His lips curl in disgust. In anger, even.It’s his fault. I think of my mother:thirty-six, too, and stick-thinuntil she had me. Today,she carries with her stretch marksand flab and extra pounds of fat,and I wonder if the Beautiful Boy’s lipswould curl just as tightly,spit just as spitefullyin speaking of the body that kept me safe. I wonder if he knows that each time he Continue Reading …
Before you write your college essay on video games
Every year, I see a whole bunch of well-meaning students who want to write their college application essays about playing video games, their talent, bliss, hard-earned improvement over time, frustrations when they just can't beat XYZ and-- PSA, please rethink this college essay topic choice, friends. Maybe the topic feels oh-so-right to you, and you're perplexed why I (who am all about student choice) am handing the essay back to you to revise. Yes, you can sometimes "lose all track of time" playing your favorite video games. And isn't that exactly what Common App Prompt #6 is asking about? Sure, the Common App want to know about your total absorption, such that the rest of life falls away (who cares if it's garbage pickup day?), and all that matters is your passion. Right? That is-- until you're stumped, stuck at Level 3 (Common App #6 asks, "Why does it captivate you? "Because I need to get to level four, hello?), and throw your controller at the wall. Maybe you call your cousin for help, the one who regularly locks himself in his room for three days straight with a jumbo size Mountain Dew-You-Ever-Even-Drink-Water (Common App #6 asks, "What or who do you turn to when you want to learn more?"). There has got to be more to your life and soul than this. But shouldn't you write your essay about what you love most? (Well, maybe!) AND GAMING MAKES YOU FEEL ALIVE, you'll argue! Yes, these video games are the most exciting thing to you since sliced bread (because, hey, when bread is already sliced, you can blindly pull two pieces out of the bag and put them right in your mouth!). But it's not a great idea to subject admissions readers to your level-upping problems and prowess. Maybe they'll worry you'll spend all your time at their school gaming too-- versus, say, focusing on academics. Or maybe they will feel judgment about a student habit that doesn't add a whole lot to the world. I'm riffing here, and it has nothing to do with Continue Reading …
Before you write that essay about your hike…
Every year, I have students bring me that essay --the incredibly heartfelt one-- about their trip into the woods, or up a mountain. Some of these students are accomplished hikers, some total, struggling newbies. 97% of the time there are blisters in these essays. It's hard to explain to the writer that this rubs a blister in the admissions readers. But I have to try. Here's why: what you experience on the mountain top or in the mosquito-thick woods is likely very similar to what every other person who ever hiked experienced: irritation, discomfort, transcendence, appreciation, disappointment. Often, you leave with gratitude, renewed perspective. It's also very likely those two last mental states are quite short lived. That essay doesn't translate to real life! Say: until someone double-crosses you at school, or you drink soured milk your sibling put back in the fridge, or you can't get a new bus pass and you have to walk somewhere in the sheeting urban rain, or...the list of irritating things in everyday, non-hiking life that ask you to face your inner self goes on and on. Where are the woods then? Where are all those blisters and mosquitos and the high cloud vista of the craggy peaks? Admissions offers have heard that essay too many times The admissions readers have heard your story 10000000 times, maybe literally. They know you mean it-- but everyone does. They also know, because they have lived a little longer than you-- that those take-aways are often temporary. So they are looking for something more. Sorry to say: Not the cliched journey with its predictable life-lesson. So what are you to do, if that essay is burning a hole in your mind, feels like THE ONE? Find a unique angle on that essay You need to dig much, much deeper into your experience. Beyond even those aggravating, debilitating blisters that dominated your psyche at the time. Last year, I worked with a student whose essay took a long time to find itself, but when it Continue Reading …