As a timid tomboy, fiction was my childhood stronghold. The stories that my mom encouraged me to embrace were where I could escape my schoolmates’ blunt inquires as to why I only wore boys’ clothes, or why my mom had a funny accent. As an assimilated Brazilian immigrant, this was the single vestige of her pre-American life that she shared with my sister and me, which heightened the awe with which I viewed fictional characters...
While all rigorous institutions of higher learning enroll intelligent people, I like that Swarthmore celebrates the offbeat individual. As someone who dresses up for midnight film releases and frequently regurgitates Lord of the Rings battle speeches, I was nearly sold on the school purely for the clever names bestowed upon the peer-tutoring programs in computer science and engineering: ninjas and wizards, respectively. Throw in a Quidditch team and the school suddenly transforms into a mecca for a geek like me...
Starting in 6th grade, I spent every summer at Jon Lee’s East Beach volleyball camp. Most kids came and went on a weekly basis, but I just stayed. There was nowhere else I would rather have been, than at East Beach playing volleyball with my friends. I loved it so much that I sought out faster improvement, committing to more formal training with an AVP professional player...
In October 2011, USA Volleyball (USAV), the governing body for volleyball in the United States and managing organization for the US Olympic volleyball teams, notified me that they were inviting me to their prestigious High Performance Beach Volleyball Camp at the Olympic Training Center in Chula Vista. The invitation was sent to only a few of the most elite beach volleyball players in the country, called A1, who had shown the potential to make future USA Beach National Teams and represent the US in competitions abroad...
Throughout the years, I have wanted to be a doctor for several reasons: first at six, because it sounded cool, then at thirteen because it was a lucrative job, and finally at sixteen because I want to help and relate to patients. It is because of this last reason that I am applying to the University of Chicago...
My mother is a firm believer in the powers of homeopathic medicine, and, as a result, I’ve been the test subject for many different kinds of remedies to help me get clearer skin. Armed with the belief that herbal and organic treatments were without risks, I became the unwilling participant for many a concoction: green onion tea with honey and sugar, grass pills that tasted like, well, grass, some kind of brown soup that smelled bad and tasted even worse...
Between living and dreaming, there is dying.
Every day, we dream of possibilities: of where we could go, of who we could be, of what we could do to change the world. However, more often than not, we allow the realities of the world to take our dreams from us, to tell us that they’re impossible and that we should give up...
Imagine a biosensor the width of a cat’s whisker, one so fine you wouldn’t be able to find it if you dropped it on the floor. This sensor became my backup summer science project for AP Chemistry, a substitute for my lofty ambition to cure cancer. I was enamored that a simple reaction that only produced hydrogen peroxide and electrons could be lifesaving...
I compete all over the Asia-Pacific with my track team. Because I love to eat, my teammates rely on me to find the tastiest local delicacies everywhere we go. In the Philippines, I persuaded our local bus driver to buy a bag of the infamous balut (fertilized duck egg). One of my teammates saw the embryo with its grayish-blue veins and vomited, but I took a deep breath and enjoyed an egg bursting with flavors I never knew existed. Exotic foods intrigue me. In just one bite, my taste buds lead me into a new culture...
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