UVa Transfer Essay

<p>Alright, since we can relax a little, I thought I'd post my essay for comments. Have at it.</p>

<hr>

<p>7b. A trip to Mt. Rainier; snorkeling off the
coast of Cozumel; or a bottle of wine, and a
fresh mozzarella & tomato salad, on the
Mediterranean. Each time I’m lucky enough to
experience a truly great day, I realize that
there are others in this world who are less
fortunate.</p>

<pre><code> While attending a corporate event in
</code></pre>

<p>Boston, we stayed at a very posh hotel. One
evening, after a black tie dinner, I went for a
walk in the city. I don’t know why, but I was
surprised to see so many homeless people. This
certainly wasn’t my first encounter with
homeless people. I worked in New York City and
encounter homeless people every day. </p>

<pre><code> One person in particular caught my
</code></pre>

<p>attention. While others were aggressively
panhandling, he was just sitting on a step. His
head was slumped into is hands. He was
unshaven, and had a smell about him that only
forensic pathologist’s come to know. The
way his clothes hung on his body, I could tell
he hadn’t eaten in days. So I hurried back
to the hotel and asked a waiter to “put together
a plate for someone who hadn’t eaten.” As I
returned to the step, the man was gone. After
searching the entire street, he was nowhere to
be found. </p>

<pre><code> Experiences like these tell me that my “best”
</code></pre>

<p>day is yet to come. It bothered me greatly that
the man on the step was suffering, while I was
being treated like royalty. My experience that
evening was a microcosm of the starvation in
the world today. In a country so rich, how do
we continue to allow people to suffer? My only
hope is that someone actually came along and
helped that man off his “step.”</p>

<pre><code> My “best” day will come when I’m able to
</code></pre>

<p>effect change in the world. Whether it’s
building houses with Habitat for Humanity, or
donating millions to a worthy cause. As I leave
my fingerprint on the world, my “best” day will
come when I’m able to help ease human suffering.</p>

<p>Hey Stumper!</p>

<p>First, I think you're very brave to post your essay here on CC. I wouldn't want to for fear of reading the way I already feel about my essay - just being so-so. </p>

<p>I think it's ok. Kind of the way I feel about mine, not great, but ok. One thing I would have done differently is for the sentence "I worked in New York City and encounter homeless people every day." I probably would have said "encountered" since worked is past tense, or said work instead of worked. The other thing is that I'm not sure I would have chosen something like changing the world and easing suffering for fear of it possibly sounding like many other essays received. I have read how adcoms say that students tend to write more about what admissions might want to hear instead of what students really feel themselves.</p>

<p>But PLEASE, take what I say with a grain of salt. I'm a better speaker than I am a writer. I'm happy to see that your essay is even shorter than mine. I was worried about it being too short, but I think we'll be alright, especially since they didn't want anything longer than a page.</p>

<p>BTW, who's relaxing? ;)</p>

<p>Katt,</p>

<p>Excellent points, thanks! </p>

<p>I thought it might sound like I was writting about what adcoms want to hear, but it's truly a heartfelt personal experience. I'm hoping they'll see that based on some of my other comments in my app about my volunteer work.</p>

<p>Ah, the mailman is here. My latest obsession...</p>

<p>7b "Hah. What a dopey prompt," I chuckled, feeling smart and superior, "Talk about a no-brainer." I stared at it haughtily, expecting it to whimper and cower in the face of my majestic intellect--but it didn't. In fact, it stared right back at me, cool as a garden-Buddha, and twice as smug. I looked at it again; it certainly seemed innocuous enough; but so do ferrets or a fatal case of beriberi, so I gave it the benefit of the doubt, treated it with appropriate caution, and approached it warily. I needed a plan.</p>

<p>Thinking I could perhaps charm it, I tried flirting with the prompt, but it didn't exactly get all breathless and atwitter when I asked what it was doing next Friday. It met me anyway, and we did spend a couple of hours together, but I have to tell you I left pretty unfulfilled. I tried approaching the prompt in lots of different ways, but I met with similar results each time. I boxed with the prompt. I thumb-wrestled the prompt. I glared at it angrily across the dinner table. I challenged it to a game of wiffle-ball. I mocked it, I threatened it; I even called it rude names and sent it to bed with no dinner. </p>

<p>Nothing. </p>

<p>I do not exaggerate. This essay topic has honestly caused me a great deal of metaphysical consternation. I have thought long and hard about what a "best day" for me might be, and actually, the question is deceptively complicated.</p>

<p>I thought of the day my wife and I first received word that there was a child waiting for us to adopt. That was an amazing day--a whirling dervish of a day, swirling with unbridled emotion. I paused, though, as I thought of the subsequent day that we actually met this little boy for the first time. How could I compare the two? </p>

<p>You see, the trouble starts when you try to hack just one twenty four hour period out of your life--like a choice cut of meat--pin the word "best" on it, and put it in a display case. All the parsley in the world can't make you forget that there once was an entire living, breathing, wonderfully complicated sheep attached to that lamb chop.</p>

<p>So it wasn't until this morning that the answer woke me up--literally. The soft skitter-scratch sound of tiny padded feet on carpet roused me from a sound slumber. Our bedroom door swung slowly open, and a silver tongue of moonlight slid softly into the room, pushing a small figure ahead of it, illuminating a halo of honey-blonde curls. </p>

<p>I felt a tugging at the sheets. I rolled over and gently helped our son, Blake, over the edge of the mattress, feeling the soft warmth of flannel, of fleece, and of his wriggling body. Like a burrowing animal, he nestled between my wife and I, curled up into a wee ball, and began to snore softly. I buried my face in his thatch of unruly hair and breathed in the smells of sun and grass and grape juice. And I realized there, in the cusp of night and dawn, that I was smelling yesterday, and today, and tomorrow, all at the same time. I understood, in a gut-level way, that there isn't really a neat way to dissect the continuum of a life; especially when you have someone counting on you, trusting you, and looking to you for all the answers, all the time. You don't have bad days any more--not really--and life becomes alive once more. Each and every day is a "best day."</p>

<p>And so the prompt, now satisfied, slipped away quietly, in search of someone else to help.</p>

<p>Extra Personal Statement: </p>

<p>30 Guaranteed 100% True Things About Me</p>

<ol>
<li><p>I wish Al Franken would put a sock in it.</p></li>
<li><p>I wish Sean Hannity would do the same. Does that make me a centrist?</p></li>
<li><p>I write poetry. I do not, however, wear a beret, nor do I mutter incessantly about "bourgeois pigs" or "the establishment."</p></li>
<li><p>My wife says our son is a lot like me. However, I have a sneaking suspicion that she actually means that I act like a 2-year old on a sugar binge.</p></li>
<li><p>I snore, or so I have been told. Often. Told often, that is.</p></li>
<li><p>I eat my cereal without sugar, because I think it displays character.</p></li>
<li><p>I like spicy food. It doesn't like me. We need to come to an understanding, I think.</p></li>
<li><p>I misspelt "recommendation" in the E-mail I wrote to my English Professor asking for one. If accepted to UVA, I promise I will spell every word I ever write correctly.</p></li>
<li><p>The first part of number 8 is true. The second part is a dirty lie.</p></li>
<li><p>I suffer fools poorly. They suffer me endlessly, though, so it kinda balances out.</p></li>
<li><p>I jiggle my leg constantly. I have tried to jiggle my nose, but I lack the proper coordination.</p></li>
<li><p>I believe that Cartesian Dualism is a construct based in laziness. I'm a fan of grey.</p></li>
<li><p>While I find Hume's fork fascinating to ponder, it is still next-to-useless for eating whipped cream.</p></li>
<li><p>I wish I were British. They can say stuff like "Good morning" and sound really smart.</p></li>
<li><p>Instead of correcting my son's mispronunciations, I find myself adopting them. Mo faffles anyone?</p></li>
<li><p>I have a friend at school who is schizophrenic. We talk a lot. He makes more sense than most supposedly sane people I know.</p></li>
<li><p>I am one of those obnoxious people who, when asked about a band, invariably says "I like their earlier stuff."</p></li>
<li><p>I wouldn't be caught dead wearing matching socks.</p></li>
<li><p>When I was a kid, I slept in my clothes, on top of a made bed, to save time. I haven't changed much.</p></li>
<li><p>I loathe poodles; I have been known, however, to tolerate particular breeds of schnauzer.</p></li>
<li><p>I went to high school with Lucy Liu the big fancy movie star person. I am confident that she also mentioned in her college application that she went to high school with me.</p></li>
<li><p>No, I am not jealous. Well, not constantly, anyway. Did I mention how short she is?</p></li>
<li><p>I also went to high school with Darien Lefkowitz, who scored 1600 on his SATs. Last I heard, he's working as a magician at a minor Las Vegas Hotel. Go figure.</p></li>
<li><p>I'm uncertain as to what I think about Heisenberg. Um, that was a joke.</p></li>
<li><p>Quantum mechanics is about the coolest thing I've never really understood too well.</p></li>
<li><p>It is beyond me why Adam Sandler still hasn™t been nominated for an oscar. The man is a genius.</p></li>
<li><p>I nearly cried when I saw Shrek. Now that I have a 2-year old, I cry at the mention of Shrek.</p></li>
<li><p>I am a sucker for all cats. This is fortunate, as cats reciprocally view all people as suckers.</p></li>
<li><p>I am compulsive about saving change. I saved over eight hundred dollars last year and I do not trust those counting machines.</p></li>
<li><p>I am still, and will always be, exceedingly fond of cheese.</p></li>
</ol>

<p>Stumper: Your essay sounds like the one i wrote last year. Don't worry--I got in. :) </p>

<p>(Had to reapply; no deferral for transfers.)</p>

<p>I don't understand, noodleman. You got in? When did you reapply?</p>

<p>By the way, great essay!</p>

<p>noodleman? the same old noodleman?
Didn't you decide to go to Cornell?</p>

<p>Damn noodleman, I really enjoyed reading your essay! Very entertaining. To personify your "prompt," and turn it into the antagonist, was very creative. So creative, as I read the first few paragraphs, I thought you responded to the wrong question. You truly do have a talent (as well as an intimate relationship with your "prompt"). I'm sure writer's block has visited more than once. </p>

<p>As they recommended, I took a risk and tried to get my voice across. I could have gone with the standard essay, but I wanted the reader to know how I felt that day. How that day has lived with me every day since. A better essay would have made the reader feel what I felt that day. Compared to yours, it's almost as if my voice wasn't even in the same room. </p>

<p>I'm not a creative writer. I wish I had that ability. Although, I did enjoy twisting the topic and playing with it a bit. I saw "Describe your 'best' day" as a loaded question with a potential pitfall. I hope not too many responded with something like "...It was a beautiful calm day...etc." Of course, it's all very subjective.</p>

<p>I've always been taught to describe a scene as I would see it. Brevity was always rewarded over "filler." Every time I've tried to write creatively I'd always sound stupid. I guess that's why I want to study economics.</p>

<p>Thanks for the kind words. The admissions process is such a stressful event.</p>

<p>
[quote]
This essay topic has honestly caused me a great deal of metaphysical consternation

[/quote]
</p>

<p>Perhaps this is because I am a philosophy major, but that line does not make any sense.</p>

<p>Haha those are both really good. I wrote my "best" day on the first time I took a bath by myself. Sounds boring, but the story turned out pretty funny. I had wet the bed when I was like five, and was forced to wash myself since my parents had quests over. Of course I ended the essay with all that "and this was my first taste of independence...blah blah blah...leading to greater things...."</p>

<p>I turned my essay into a descriptive story. I hope it goes over well...</p>

<p>cncl/katt: basically, i ended up giving my wife the decision. both schools are great, but she would have needed to quit a job she loves to move to ithaca. she preferred to stay here. we also wanted to adopt another baby so we decided i would take a year off. uva wouldn't defer a transfer, so i had to reapply. sigh. </p>

<p>nspeds: it's meant to be funny. as in 'abstruse stress.' Not as in the work of the metaphysical poets.</p>

<p>stumper: thanks! i liked yours, too.</p>

<p>-noodleman</p>

<p>Are you decided to go to anywhere (if accepted of course) this year? Where did you apply?</p>

<p>Wow, noodleman, your essay . . . I really liked it.
The beginning (although creative) was a bit gimmicky, kinda unnecessary. But I think, when talking about your son, you shed some insight into how you think, the values you hold, etc. all things a good personal essay should do. More importantly, you let the essay come alive, giving us action and details . . . "wriggling body," "grape juice," etc. If an anthology is ever assembled of transfer essays, yours would be key to the canon.</p>

<p><em>blush</em></p>

<p>thanks. :)</p>

<p>CNCL: Only UVA. I'm kinda screwed if I don't get in. :P</p>

<p>Thomas Jefferson sat alone—self-sequestered in a tiny room in Philadelphia. With quill in hand and mind aflame, he penned the now immortal words that birthed a nation, rocked a planet, and set our country on a course which has since defined new and wondrous freedoms for countless souls. His powers of persuasion were immense. His genius was in communicating possibility as though it were destiny; all who read the Declaration of Independence, even today, are swept up into its vision of equality and empowerment for all. I know that I am.</p>

<p>To be able to communicate a vision, to inspire another’s imagination, to bring light into a darkened mind or minds—this is what I would choose to master if I were to sharpen but a single talent to an astonishing degree. </p>

<p>Before Martin Luther King climbed up the steps of the Lincoln memorial in 1963, just one man had a dream. When he strode back down those steps—only ten short minutes later—one hundred thousand people had a dream; King’s clarion call was heard and felt by all those assembled; his heart and mind and soul all spoke as one. Reluctance and doubt were banished from the assembled multitudes, and hope sprung up in fear’s place. Because King had this gift for creating a connection, his dream is still alive today. Millions upon millions of lives have been irrevocably changed.</p>

<p>It is this rare and wondrous ability to transmit inspiration that I would hope and dream to have. Would that I could couple this with a farsighted understanding of what is right, just, true, and possible in this world, I might change lives for the better.</p>

<p>Like Jefferson, and King before me, I also have a vision. I see myself as becoming a public defender who is a champion of the underprivileged and the mentally ill. These are the forgotten people in our midst who so often go unseen and even willfully ignored. I see myself as a crusader for those who are ill-equipped to fend for themselves. I see myself as one who truly makes a difference in lives that are so rarely touched by the hand of mercy. </p>

<p>Even now, I know in my heart that I have the ability to touch at least one other person. I have worked for change in small ways, and I have seen the fruit of my labors. It is the sweetest fruit, by far, that I have ever known.</p>

<p>This desire to make a difference, to touch another’s life, is as innate in me as the desire to breathe. My one greatest wish is that I may be fulfilled in this desire and to ultimately see my vision shared and realized. Who am I, you may ask, to think that I should try to change the world? Who would I be, I might reply, to think that I should not?</p>

<p>_________________#2</p>

<p>My wife and I were married in an intimate ceremony in our home. It was a service symbolic of our commitment to each other, but I also remember it as being uniquely representative of the human values that we both hold dear. In addition to inviting our respective families and closest friends, we had also wanted to include some special people from our neighborhood. We knew them only in passing, yet they had impressed and touched us deeply with their honesty, their sweetness, and their character. These three homeless men—Tom, Wayne, and David—were also a vital part of the most important day in our lives.</p>

<p>As part of the service we handed out our favorite quotes to the assembled; we also kept one for ourselves. Each guest read his or hers in turn, and so we were showered by the sublime words of William Shakespeare and Elizabeth Browning, the witticisms of Groucho Marx and Mark Twain, and the wisdom of Mahatma Gandhi and Maya Angelou. I chose to read Margaret Mead’s words: "Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed people can change the world. Indeed it is the only thing that ever has."</p>

<p>Her wise words held great meaning for me then, and they continue to do so today. They encourage me to embrace hope when all hope seems lost. They move me to persevere in things that not only lift my spirit, but also the spirits and lives of others. </p>

<p>Most of all, though, her words inspire a faith that my own progress—no matter how incremental—that my own passion—no matter how alone I sometimes feel in it—are important in the world. Indeed, only the breadth of my own imagination and the degree of my willingness to act in accordance with my ideals can limit my destiny.</p>

<p>The inspiration behind her words is the very reason that I have chosen to return to school at the age of 35. I have returned to school not to make more money; my family already has most of the material things that one generally aspires to have: a spacious home, a fancy car parked in the driveway, a fine, green, suburban lawn; all the outward trappings of the American dream. Nor have I returned to school out of boredom. My work is interesting enough. I am even good at it. Rather, I have chosen to return to school because I find I am not satisfied with simply having things and being occupied. I want more—much more. I want to make a difference. The words of Margaret Mead tell me that I can.</p>

<p>I see things in this world that are unjust and unfair and I cannot easily turn my attention elsewhere. Every day I see people engaged in struggles of quiet desperation, and I have found that I cannot be contented to simply sit back and wish that the world were different. I want to change the world. Again, Margaret Mead reassures me that I can.</p>

<p>Dr. Mead’s words tell me I can reach my goal of becoming a public defender. It is one thing to make token gestures of kindness and brotherhood to men like Tom and Wayne and David; it is quite another to work for substantive and permanent change in the lives of those less fortunate than I have been. There are thousands of Toms, Waynes, and Davids in this country. They are waiting.</p>

<p>I plan to use my education at UVA, culminating in a law degree, to become empowered to effect real change. What better way to spend a life?</p>

<p>Alright noodleman...ENOUGH! We can see that you're a wonderful writer, but must you keep reminding us that we're not. ;)</p>

<p>Seriously though, I have really enjoyed reading your essays. You obviously possess a lot of talent. I wish I would have had your help while writing mine.</p>

<p>Well I think its safe to say that my essays were without a doubt the weakest part of my application.</p>

<p>sorry. 0_o</p>

<p>here's the thig with the essay. i think this is how stuff works.</p>

<p>big pile:
4.0-3.0 stays. 3.0-2.7 set aside. 2.7-0, circular file.
next:
4.0-3.8, in if not axe murderer or sex offender
3.79-2.7 look at excurr, sports, urm status, etc. lazy sociopaths out, mother theresa and next heisman winner, eskimo albino dwarves, stay.
next:
admissions folks argue about remaining pool, fish application written in crayon from garbage since it is from george bush's second cousin, poewr struggles ensue and more applications are trashed based on winner-take-all oil wrestling tourney.
next:
of what's left, essays make or break.</p>

<p>my 2 cents: the essay will not be the sole determining factor, but rather a minor contributing one. they would like to see that you can write, carry a logical argument to a valid conclusion, or make then laugh until the milk they were sipping comes out of their noses.</p>