I will openly admit that I used to be terrible at communication, in all of its many forms. I would forget to reply to emails, leave text messages unopened, and . It was never my intention to appear rude or to ignore people; rather, I had gotten into the nasty habit of, when I was not able to think of an immediate response, to convince myself that I would reply to them “later.”..
I felt a bead of sweat tracing its way down my forehead. My legs began to twitch, as if they knew how badly I wanted to run. I stared, in desperation, back at the nine pairs of eyes that watched my every move. For a second, I imagined my escape- sprinting down the stairs, past the faded murals on the walls, out the gate and into the street. But just for a second...
The day our house caught fire I chose to accept my role as the leader of my household and assume its inherent responsibilities.
In the still and frigid hours of the night, I woke up to the stench of burnt plastic and the scorching pain of my smoke-filled lungs. Before I could fully comprehend the dangers of our situation, I was already dashing across the room, dragging younger siblings out of bed while sternly urging them to crawl outside through the back door...
{Stanford students are widely known to possess a sense of intellectual vitality. Tell us about an idea or an experience you have had that you find intellectually engaging. (250 words)}In an ideal world, every student would have an equal opportunity to succeed but today we are far from that. It is very difficult to get rid of systematic inequalities, but one approach would be to unite underprivileged kids and use their unique experiences to build strength and motivation...
I walk off the stage and see my nephew running to me. He says “congratulations,” and as I look around I see my 2 parents, 2 sisters, 15 cousins, 9 aunts and 9 uncles smiling at me and clapping so loud I forget where I am. Twenty five years ago, my parents decided to leave not just Mexico City but their home, family, and culture, in pursuit of a better and brighter future for their families...
The darkness shrouds me like a thick blanket, but I feel anything but safe. The lights are off backstage and although I cannot see anything, I feel every emotion in the world. I should be ecstatic to be the soloist for the choral program, yet why would I rather be anywhere else right now. I shake this off and turn to reciting the words over and over again in my head. The applause from the crowd snaps through my thoughts like lightning as I see the previous act exit. Palms sweating, heart racing: I know it is time...
There were a few African-American friends at my elementary school, but we never shared classrooms. In second grade, I was selected to participate in the Talented and Gifted (TAG) program. I was transferred to a third grade classroom and separated from my friends in second grade. My peers felt I was too good to play soccer or tag with them; they assumed I preferred to be with the "smart white kids"...
“What’s your name?”“Jeffrey Kim.”“Which Jeffrey Kim?”After a moment of awkward confusion, I answered the school secretary, “The freshman.”“Oh, now I found you!” she exclaimed, looking at her computer screen.
On my first day of high school, I realized that I had not only a typical teenage identity crisis, but also a confusing name situation...
{For applicants to Columbia College, please tell us what from your current and past experiences (either academic or personal) attracts you specifically to the field or fields of study that you noted in the Application Data section. If you are currently undecided, please write about any field or fields in which you may have an interest at this time.}
She walked in with a saw. Is she going to use that on my LEG? I shook my head and balled up, protecting my casted leg.
“It’s alright sweetheart, we can take the cast off because your leg is all better!” She smiled, and knelt down to face me. “Your bones have healed, all on their own. Like magic.”..
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