Application Essay Excerpts

Rube Goldberg machine (n.): a deliberately complex series of chain reactions that results in the ultimate realization of a simple task. A domino is nudged, and—click!—it topples into its eager twin; the second domino, acquiescing to gravity, tumbles toward a third rigid rectangle—click!—which hits a fourth—click!— which knocks a fifth. My parents meet in 1991, and wed in ‘95...

Multivariable calculus: the first class of the first day of my last year of high school. Within minutes of entering the room, I’m utterly perplexed...

It began in kindergarten, when my parents and the parents of my friends enrolled us all in a singing class. The highlight of each class, as far as I can recall, was never the music itself, but the fun of climbing up a low-branched, twisted tree in front of the choir building. Every week I endeavored to climb higher than I had ever before...

I tie on my black apron bunny-ears style over my polyester black shirt, crinkling my nose; even the washing machine couldn’t remove the grease smell. My hand automatically reaches to the corner of my apron to insure my nametag doesn’t read “ynaffiT” by accident. I slip on my black visor, slide on my black sneakers, and tuck my black pant leg over my pink striped socks that belie the uniformity I’m trying to maintain...

I enter the building and the smell of fried food and oil hits me with a familiar strength. I have become acquainted with the atmosphere, something only a few people can say they have achieved. Upon entering, I walk to the front desk and ask for a pair of lanes...

In Greece they say “Η περιέργεια είναι η αρχή της σοφίας”, curiosity is the beginning of knowledge. I sat inside the elementary building with Ardelle drawing a diagram of the pistils and stamens in a flower. Our teacher quietly called the two of us to the door and hurriedly told us to follow...

In 1969, my 11-year-old father left Anthiro, a secluded village in the Greek Pindus Mountains where radios were still foreign, the cafe held the communal phone, and a singular truck arrived biweekly to deliver goods...

When I get a few hours to put aside responsibilities, I enjoy reading and watching shows based around morality, history, and crime, usually spiced with a hint of feminism. My favorite authors are George Orwell and Sara Paretsky. Complete opposites in the literary spectrum, but both the writers of captivating stories that I have re-read instead of doing my assigned homework...

When I was in second grade, I struggled to learn how to spell the word “BECAUSE.” That darn word kept me off the “spelling wizard” list for weeks. With diligent effort, and a mnemonic device my mother conceived featuring the Mickey Mouse song, I eventually learned how to spell the word correctly. Thanks to that irritatingly catchy jingle, and the magic of spell check, I will never misspell “because” again...

I can feel the lump growing in my throat and my mouth going dry as I wish I had taken my dad’s advice and brought a water bottle. As I walk up the wooden stairs, I hear them creak under my feet, only adding to my anxiety as I almost feel like I'm doing something wrong. Before I approach the office door, I have already begun to regret my outfit choice, as my dress is too tight and my heels are just a little too high to be comfortable...