Both of my parents went to Princeton and I’m a Latina from the upper-middle class.
I have an unweighted GPA of 3.89 and a weighted of 4.41, and I’m 28th in a class of 370 students at a public school. New SAT score of 1460 with a perfect essay score, ACT superscore of 33, also with a perfect essay score
Extracurriculars: VP of National Art Honors Society, VP of History and Human Rights Club, member of Math Honors Society, National Honors Society, Spanish Honors Society. Volunteer youth soccer coach, 3 year varsity soccer player, working as a certified referee, internships with local art nonprofits and organizations, member of Nationals-bound Constitution team
Awards: National Scholastic Silver Medal for art, several Honorable Mentions at the regional level, two silver medals from the regional and states levels of the Constitution team.
I submitted an art supplement, and the teachers who provided my recommendations are both people who have been with me since freshman year, lent personal support, and urged me to grow continuously. They’ve both pulled me aside several times before to compliment my writing or character within the classroom (both of which were seminar-style English lliterature/history and ethics courses where we debated heavy subjects).
My interview was good, I think. Most of my other interviews extended past the time limit because we were genuinely having nice conversations. This interviewer, however, had another interview scheduled for twenty minutes after me, so I was sitting in a Starbucks having a nice conversation with her, which I thought was going well, but then another girl came in and I was courteously bid farewell within the next few minutes. I only got to talk about two or three different things, and I didn’t feel like I got to connect like with other interviewers. It unsettled me.
I think my essays were pretty good. My common app essay was in the form of a poem, explaining how I’ve learned to fight my severe anxiety with poetry and music. My Princeton essay was focusing on a kind of silly quote from a essay series by George Watsky about how living is about feeling, and I wrote it through a succession of bizarre dreams I’ve had that prompted me to make changes in my approach to life.
I’ve been accepted to UVA, William and Mary as a Monroe Scholar, Boston College, Fordham, Colorado College, and American University.
I was deferred, then rejected from Georgetown (which broke my heart). I’m trying not to get my hopes up, and I’m already grateful for the places I have the opportunity to go to, but none of them or those schools that ever really…latched to me like Georgetown or Princeton did, so now I’m just trying to hold on to hope. And I’m haunted by a possible typo I had in my Princeton essay. I’m really, really scared I’ll be rejected just for that.
sorry this is long i’m wordy and anxious