<p>hey everyone,</p>
<p>ok so i want to know what my chances are of getting into UPenn, based on this essay and this other information:</p>
<p>my unweighted GPA for junior year is 3.76 and my weighted GPA for junior year is 4.435. my weighted GPA for all three years of HS so far is 4.200, but im not sure about unweighted. I'm applying to the Engineering school at Penn for Chem engineering, and here are the following math and science grades I've gotten:</p>
<p>Senior Year-AP Biology (grade A- so far, hope to pull it up in time)
AP Statistics (grade A)</p>
<p>Junior Year- AP Chemistry (grade A-)
AP Calculus AB (grade B+)</p>
<p>Sophomore Year- Honors Chemistry (grade A-)
Honors Biology (grade A)
Honors Pre-AP Calculus (grade B-)</p>
<p>Freshman Year- Honors Physics I (grade A)
Advanced Algebra II (grade A-)</p>
<p>highest SAT scores so far are 650 CR, 750 Math, 800 Writing, but i took it again and think i did better in CR and Math. the scores still have to come though. </p>
<p>SAT II scores: 790 Chemistry, 800 Math Level II</p>
<p>AP Scores: 5 on AP Chem exam, 5 on AP Calc AB exam</p>
<p>extracurriculars include: indian dance in bharatanatyam, kathak and modern dance classes
self-started dance school (i teach dance to kids, i make money from it)
radio jockey (i have my own show on the radio and record ads and interview people over the radio and work with other DJs)
piano
competitive dance troupe that meets 6 hrs/wk, performs at all big indian dance competitions (i only got accepted into the troupe senior year)
volunteering once a week for 1.5 hrs each at a yoga center (nonprofit)
NJ Chemistry Olympics club in 11th grade (got 6th place out of 22 in the competition)
worked for 30 hours in 2007 as a graphic designer for a diversity-awareness organization
worked 25 hours in the summer as a camp counselor
worked 12 hours at a school for dyslexic and autistic children in India
Students Against Destructive Decisions club in 10th grade
Reaching Everyone By Exposing Lies (REBEL) club in 9th grade
National Merit Scholarship Semifinalist (maybe Finalist, results not in yet)
High Honor Roll in my school all four years
National and Spanish Honor Society</p>
<p>here's my common app essay (supplement not finished yet)</p>
<p>Tensions mounted high as I sat with the group of five, trying to convey to them, once again, that they were supposed to be excited.
Dance is about expression, you guys.
I had echoed this constant refrain in this very basement so many times that I rivaled the broken grandfather clock one floor above, with a wooden expression and monotone to match. Watching their unenthusiastic performance, I started to lose heart. Celebratory music pumped energetically, expectantly, from the boom box in the corner, but my five students obliged(danced) only halfheartedly. Their movements unsynchronized, each one seemed to take it in turns to miss a few beats. My greatest disappointment, however, was that three days into choreographing a piece of my own, I still needed to constantly urge my group to smile. The song was about the exhilaration of flying a kite, and yet even with the ceaseless reminders, the only thing they seemed to be exhilarated about was the prospect of class ending in half an hour.
I turned off the music, took a deep breath, and studied their faces for a full minute. How could I ever make them adore dance the way I did? If my grueling efforts these past few days had only managed to convince them (confirm their theories?) that dance was an unpleasant chore, how could I ever call myself a teacher of the art I most love to practice?
I momentarily revisited the days when I, at six years old, stood in front of my own classical dance teacher. I vividly heard her speak to me: Only if you are the music
only then, you will dance.
Allow the music to drench you and the lyrics to devour you. Adjust the pulse of your heart to the rhythm. Your body defies the law of inertia, unstoppable despite the many forces it encounters. Taste that sense of homecoming as you ascend the stage, of welcoming the audience like an old friend. Sorrow translates into expression, ecstasy into energy, frustration into precision, fear into confidence, aggression into grace. That thirst, that unsated desire to be great
I exhaled, understanding right then and there what I had been doing wrong. Take a break, you guys. Let me tell you a story.
They listened more closely than I had expected, as I recounted to them the meaning of the lyrics to which they were dancing. I told them about the kite festivals in India: the rush of adrenaline pulsing in the champions veins, and how exhilarating it must be to soar high, like the kite, and to be declared the winner in front of thousands.
This time, when I play the music, you are the kite.
As the minutes passed, as my new refrain continued, I observed the childrens steps lighten, their gestures sharpen, their motions finally match. I even caught a few smiles.
The gift of dance is nothing short of a treasure, its only commandment passed down, like a tradition, through generations from teacher to student. Without allowing yourself to be the music, to remember reality as only a vague memory, you will only think of dance as a combination of movement and sweat. I recognized the value of the one commandment as my classical dance teacher spoke to me all those years ago, and continue to worship it as I practice for competitions with my troupe for hours on end, as I twirl and spin down the hallways of my house, humming to myself when no one is watching.
The clapping and cheering from the debut of my choreography resounds in my ears to this day. Today, my students clamor to learn new steps and new stunts. I swell with unsurpassed pride as I watch them, and deflate, slightly crestfallen, as the clock marks the end of the hour. I reminisce sometimes about the confusion of the first few days of teaching and realize now that dance is not an act, but an inheritance.
Dance and I share a common hubris. Constantly in metamorphosis, as though my future self breathes in the ellipses after a poem, my learning will never meet its end. I, like my teachers, peers, and students, am a work in progress, one that perhaps will never truly culminate. Imperfect, I detangle my insecurities and seek, above all, to advance. My unsated desire to be great will never be quenched, but its taste stings my parched tongue sharply as I move forward: each step a gamble, yet a certainty. Excellence constantly evolves, leaving those who seek it unsure of what it expects. But I will always work towards it, my inheritance a lasting token in my palm. </p>
<p>feedback on the essay greatly appreciated.</p>
<p>so....what's the verdict? penn or not? thanks!!!</p>