Everyone has a story. What’s yours? I was elected Mayor for our senior year Government for a Day at City Hall. My friend Jay and I brought a piece of our demolished elementary school playground inside the Mayor’s hall to make a point.

UT-Austin requires first-time freshman applicants beginning with Spring/Fall 2021 to submit the following Apply Texas Essay A. It can be longer than the recommended 700 words as I cover in this post.

Tell us your story. What unique opportunities or challenges have you experienced throughout your high school career that have shaped who you are today?

I provide helpful tips and general ways to approach this new prompt in this post. It may help to review real examples to get a better idea of the varied ways you can address this topic.

The thirteen examples below take many different approaches in sharing a story unique to them. Some relate to their first choice majors while others have no relation to college or their future goals. A few stretch over long periods of time and some focus on a specific experience or moment. They deal with themes of identity, culture, leadership, family, art, volunteering, animal welfare, recovering from injuries, moving cities, and founding an organization among others.

Interested in working together? Need help sharing your story? Complete my questionnaire for a free consultation.

Exploring Cultural Identity through Food

“Ammi, paneer is ready!” my mom hollered. 

Paneer makhani /pa nir muh kuh nee/. Dictionary’s definition: Rich cheese blocks coated with buttery, creamy makhani with a hint of tomato and cashews. 

Amrita’s definition: the best Indian dish, a reward from my mom each Saturday night; at first, my absolute favorite, and later, my nemesis. I loved food, especially paneer; so much so that my family called me a bhuka—one who devours food as if starved. 

“Coming!” I replied.

Eyes wide and mouth watering, I sat at the table. With the restraint of a toddler gripping cake, I started devouring my mom’s sublime paneer makhani. Since I couldn’t eat them, I didn’t initially notice papers folded in my mom’s hand. “Wuf er dose?” I mumbled through cheesy mouthfuls. 

My mom hesitated, “They’re your glucose and blood test results. Ammi…” 

I raised my eyebrows, mouth open cheese half-chewed, waiting for a reply. 

“They said you have borderline diabetes and hypothyroid. There’s a diet that they want you to try so that you don’t have these for the rest of your life. No cheese, ghee…” my mom trailed off. 

Panic set in. I stopped listening. I sat paralyzed. The list of forbidden, unhealthy foods consisted of Indian food ingredients. And now, I had to fix my diet? FIX MY DIET? ALL I EAT IS INDIAN FOOD! 

I felt fine! But what was I to do, ditch my favorites? Who goes on a diet at fourteen? I couldn’t look at rajma and butter chicken without feeling bitterness and guilt. Before, paneer symbolized comfort and love; now, it teased me with reminders of my evidently poor health. I took it personally; there must be something wrong with me. 

Our family meals connected me, a young girl immersed in American culture, to my heritage. Rejecting Indian food felt like shedding my brown skin. By extension, distanced from my favorite foods, I criticized Indian culture and overcorrected my embrace of American culture. 

I bought all six Taylor Swift albums. I begged for Mac n Cheese and avoided paneer—the dish that became my enemy, unaware of the irony of consuming an equally fatty food. I wore jeans and a shirt to Diwali parties and complained that Indian clothes were “too itchy.” I had become a true ABCD—American Born Confused Desi. 

Though American born, I’ve visited India 18 times. I’m all-too-familiar with the low-pitched “tuk-tuk” of Mumbai’s three-wheeled taxis and my extended family’s temperamental, sputtering air conditioners. Stray dogs meander in the middle of the streets, ambivalent to their potential semi-truck destruction. I perk up when the mango man chants “apane aam le aao”—“get your mangoes”—every morning. Mumbai is my second home, as part of me as Taylor Swift and macaroni.

My visit to India two years ago brought clarity to my identity crisis. I was traveling from my grandmother’s to my cousin’s house with our family’s driver, Mohan Chacha, as it’s common for Indian families to hire drivers to navigate the hectic roads. He asks me, “Kya ham yahaan dopahar ke bhojan ke lie jaldee se ruk sakate hain?” He wanted to stop quickly for lunch. “Haan theek hai,” I responded, signaling that was fine.

He stopped for a hamburger at the most traditional of Indian restaurants: McDonald’s. I’ve seen Mohan Chacha for my entire life, but I never took the time to really look at him. He’s older, wiry, and likely poverty-stricken. We were polar opposites, yet we each ate hamburgers. 

When I saw Mohan Chacha eating McDonald’s, I realized my culture wasn’t the culprit of my poor health. He was of the same heritage eating the same foods—without diabetes or hypothyroid. I deflected blame for my health problems onto my ethnicity, alienating me from my background when the real issue was my own insecurity. I wasted time and energy misdirecting fights against my heritage while my health issues persisted. From that moment, I promised myself that I would take care of my body: eating fruits, vegetables, no processed food, and working out an hour each day. 

I’m happy that my lifestyle changes leave me feeling more whole. Now, my dietary restrictions aren’t punishment, but an exercise in discipline and moderation. I’m not too hardcore, though. I allow myself paneer once in a while, and sometimes I go a few days without working out. 

Lack of acceptance is like a hungry pit in your stomach; acceptance is like rich paneer. And I choose paneer. 

Commentary

I love this example because they incorporate a storytelling mode throughout while shifting from an anecdote at home about not being able to eat their favorite traditional food to a connection they make during a visit to India. Originally, this essay had been two separate essays that we put together. Their process is an excellent example of how drafting a few different stories that might seem unrelated at first can integrate into later versions.

Discussing their identity and cross-cultural identity through the symbol of food elevates this essay from strong to outstanding. Instead of merely telling their reviewer about their inner conflicts, they illustrate through specific examples. Sticking with one symbol - food - rather than trying to do too much and spreading word resources too thin allows them to fully develop their ideas and bring an internal structure to their Essay A.

Content-wise, the themes they share are directly relevant to the prompt by sharing experiences in high school and opportunities to visit India each year. They supply a thoughtful discussion about their self-image and habits, something we all struggle with and that her reviewer will almost certainly relate with. They resolve their conflicts later on by engaging with how they’ve reformed their diet and wellness habits by using specific examples.

Arguably the strongest area in their essay is the style. It’s witty and relateable without trying too hard. Having spoken on video with this applicant, their personality translates almost perfectly in their written word. They’re not afraid to showcase their charm and write how they want rather than trying to fit into some rigid style that doesn’t match who they are. Sometimes, creative students with unorthodox ideas feel constrained by college admissions topics. They’re merely an invitation to write. If you have a charming and clever side, let it shine.

Check out my new book Surviving the College Admissions Madness and Youtube Channel

Non-Conformity and Band Leadership

I laid gazing at the brilliant rural night sky enveloping my great grandmother’s house in Roby, Texas. I had just finished my long division worksheet from Friday. I probably should have kept quiet and enjoyed the tranquility, yet my dad patiently whispered answers to my questions. “If aliens existed, would they want us to find them?” He thought before answering, “It’s almost certain that they are out there, so probably not.”

Our family had long retired to bed. I pointed upwards. “Why is the milky way cloudy?” Together, we wondered about life beyond Earth. We stayed out for one last shooting star (agreeing that they're merely falling space rocks on fire). My dad is an encyclopedia of obscure knowledge. Especially in my elementary years, he never passed up an opportunity to explain a computer or mathematical concept.

I’m a little bit of a loner and a contrarian, so my dad and I relate. He’s math and science-oriented and worked as a computer programmer before becoming disillusioned with creating programs and algorithms that made stockbrokers and day traders rich. We spend hours discussing science, religion, and the human psyche. We compare perspectives about the origins of life and existence. Our conversations help keep me grounded when I’m struggling in school or questioning why I remain in band.

I continued playing tuba after middle school because I sort of liked playing. Band is McNeil’s tightest knit community, so I figured a built-in group would force me to socialize and find my place among 2700+ students. I auditioned freshman year and made bottom band. We weren’t expected to audition for region, so opportunities for improvement slipped away.

What few friends I had freshman year auditioned, made region band, received close instruction, and refined their musicianship. It embarrassed me to be left behind, so I made it a point to improve and practice every day. I wanted to prove to myself and others that I was better than a bottom band tuba player.

December freshman year, I called my mom. “They noticed!” My band directors had decided to move me up to Wind Symphony for my second semester in high school. Pulled into the orbits of competent musicians, I learned and practiced my audition music, improving rapidly. I loved playing in my free time. I made top band, advanced to Area, and was soon recognized as the first chair tuba at McNiel. Junior year, I earned 1st in the region, number one in area, and eventually 15th in Texas. Receiving these accolades meant a lot to me, but not as much as the voice music gave me to express my ability to invest in something I enjoy.

I feel loyal to music for it’s gifts of expression and community, so I struggled with my decision to leave marching band. I prefer concert band because it focuses more on performing beautiful pieces and less about how we look. Competitive marching band is all about how well the directors can teach a set of dots and power chords that were cut and pasted from last year’s winning show by expensive consultants. Section leader felt more like section servant. Rather than leading individuals, my role was confined to streamlining a superficial process.

I found ways to subvert a system I viewed as corrupt and lacking purpose and focused on reaching out to motivated freshmen interested in improving their skills. Denied region auditions during my first year, I helped a few of them fine-tune their pieces despite the chaos of marching season. I’ve since determined it isn’t worth the struggle, so even though I’m one of our band’s top players, I decided playing tuba in the marching band for senior year isn’t in my best interest. I convinced the directors to give me a nominal role in marching band so I could still participate, have my band period, and focus on what I love - playing concert music. I’m grateful that we found a compromise.

Adam Grant’s book, Originals, suggests that non-conformists and creatives disrupt systems and produce innovation and meaningful change. I’ll never apologize for asking questions or going against the grain. I’ve grown a lot in the ten years since that starry night at my great grandmother’s house. My dad introduced me to math and science and continues to inspire wonder. I only recently realized his response about aliens certainly being “out there” references Fermi’s Paradox. What I admire most is his walking away from lucrative programming roles and sticking to his principles. Sharing contrarian views and standing by my convictions keeps me true to myself.

Commentary

I also really like this essay example as a different approach to storytelling. While our first example moves rapidly and features heavy dialog throughout with a few twists and turns, this Essay A communicates directly with the reader. There is a predictable order of events, so there is little chance that the reader could get lost or confused.

Analytically-minded and logical students can absolutely craft interesting essays worth reading. Not every essay needs to be witty and charming. Just as it isn’t optimal to fit your ideas into narrow expectations of what you think admissions reviewers want to read, it’s important to not try and be something you’re not.

Their introduction and conclusion are effective because they supply a common theme and line of reasoning that runs throughout the essay. Sometimes, students write killer, attention-getting introductions, and don’t fully develop it throughout their essay. They often write conclusions that sputter and linger when it’s often preferable to give a nod to the introduction in your conclusion.

Effective conclusions also add new information rather than simply restating or repeating what’s already been shared. Two places they did that are citing Adam Grant’s Originals and learning that their childhood question wondering if aliens are “out there” have perplexed scientists for decades, summed up in the Fermi Paradox.

They’ve also weaved a discussion and interest in science with their experiences in band, so they’re covering a few different dimensions to their identity without underdeveloping any particular area. I think “balanced” when I read essays like this. Moreover, their resume read many band accomplishments including all-state, but Essay A supplies a lot more context and details to provide nuance to their journey. It isn’t all about success and accolades. Inquiring about their school’s band structure and questioning their role in the organization provides a rare nuance and maturity that suggests to reviewers that the applicant is a critical thinker and one willing to go against the tide. Plan II honors must have appreciated this essay in particular.

Visiting Vietnamese Extended Family

The heat bombarded us as soon as we stepped off the plane. Crossing the tarmac, I couldn’t believe the intensity of radiating heat waves, unmatched even by Houston’s summers. We cleared immigration and exited the airport. The sun felt on top of us. I coughed from farmers burning their fields following harvest. Even the humidity felt foreign. In Vietnamese, my mother began asking for help. Although it’s a familiar language that I’ve heard countless times back home, somehow even here it sounded unfamiliar.

My father is Italian American, and my mother is Vietnamese. We celebrate the Lunar New Year, Tet. We attend family gatherings for observing anniversaries of our ancestors who have passed away. I followed traditions from habit yet felt relatively disconnected from my Vietnamese identity until visiting Hanoi the summer following eighth grade, my first-time leaving America. It also was my mother’s first trip to her homeland since escaping by boat in 1979. I looked at the journey as a fun experience, but when the plane landed, I realized this trip would hold tremendous influence in my life.

Communist propaganda posters and densely concentrated housing blocks contrasted with life in Houston. Buildings seem haphazardly piled on top of one another with hundreds of precarious electrical wires crisscrossing rooftops and intersections. It surprised me how life there seemed completely different. People sat on stools on every street corner, drinking, eating, and talking. Stray dogs ruled the streets at night. Crowds thronged to cramped and noisy outdoor markets.

Despite initial, jarring, unfamiliar experiences, I started connecting Vietnam to my upbringing. I picked up Vietnamese phrases in the street that I hear at home. The food even tasted the same, just a bit better. With a local family, we cooked and ate my favorite dish, banh xeo, a Vietnamese savory crepe packed with shrimp, pork, and beansprouts.

Importantly, and maybe surprisingly, the people were warm and welcoming, especially towards Americans. I couldn’t believe the country experienced catastrophic wars just a few decades ago. Their faces lit up when we shared that we’re American. They loved asking about what we thought about their country, culture, and food.

For my mother, visiting Vietnam seemed bitter-sweet. She described how it felt great to see her home and remember her childhood. It also troubled her to see the remnants of the war that disrupted her life. My mother is usually reserved, but during the trip, she shared how she has recurring nightmares. By the end of the trip, I became curious in my mother’s story, and this otherwise neglected aspect of my identity.

We made a return trip last year to volunteer in a rural community in central Vietnam. We served the Raglai, an indigenous minority marginalized because of their different language, lack of education, and lingering discrimination. My family and I traveled with the Catalyst Foundation to provide access to education and help prevent human trafficking.

Life in the countryside contrasts substantially with Hanoi. Small Vietnamese women carried their body weight in rice sacks on their backs. Teenage girls acted as mothers towards their little sisters. Once the surprises and novelty wore off, I started looking for similarities rather than differences. The boys and I loved running around and playing basketball. Mothers yelled at their children to come inside or do their homework. The kids spent hours playing on the slides and swings. It surprised me how much we have in common.

Just days after my time in Vietnam, I returned to school and went out with friends. I felt more aware of our superficial differences, but my time in Vietnam makes me appreciate more what we have in common. My classmates and friends are Muslim, Christian, Buddhist, and come from almost every corner of our planet. Some of my basketball teammates have only one parent at home and struggle to cover the AAU team fees. I’ve been surprised so many times that I’ve learned to not be overconfident in my assumptions about anyone based on their culture, family situation, or religion. We are much more than labels.

My trips to Vietnam provided me with opportunities to explore the unknown as well as a part of myself. If I could relate with a seventy-year-old grandmother living in rural Vietnam, it seems foolish to write a classmate off because they’re from the “bad part of town.” Exposure to foreign places makes me appreciate where I come from and not fear others because of where they come from. I acknowledge that people and cultures have differences, which makes me the open-minded and curious person that I am today.

Commentary

Thematically, this essay is similar in some ways to the initial example, but there are a few key differences. They are mixed-race, and their mother fled Vietnam during the war, so there was a loss of continuity and connection with their culture and extended family. Many applicants with roots in China or India, for example, regularly visit their family homeland. There are a wide variety of immigrant stories, however, and this applicant’s choice to share theirs provides a vehicle to discuss their personal development, sense of self, and lays a foundation for their short answers and BHP essay.

Spending the first half of their essay establishing and developing the setting - what they’re seeing, hearing, feeling, tasting, observing, smelling - makes for an interesting read that maintains the reader’s attention. Establishing the setting provides context to the various actions and scenes in their narrative like eating with a local family and volunteering on a return trip.

Since their mother is the reason they’re visiting Vietnam, it’s effective to share a few sentences about her experience. Doing so provides nuance, maturity, and empathy to make the essay and their journey not exclusively about themselves. Many adults can relate to reframing and shifting their relationship with their parents as they get older or situations in life change.

Establishing the setting early on also allows the student to make similarities and comparisons later. Many essays fall flat because they don’t adequately illustrate what they’re seeing and feeling, so it reads like “I visited this other culture, I changed some beliefs, and now I see life differently” with little context or detail. The order of operations in this essay is similar, but their use of detail elevates their essay from strong to outstanding and offers credibility to the applicant that they really are seeing things in Houston a bit differently on their return home.

Interested in working together? Need help sharing your story? Complete my questionnaire for a free consultation.

Art and Mental Health

“I love you mom.” I handed over my Crayon stick-figure family drawing like a proud, preening peacock. Dad stood tallest in my blended family portrait. I pointed here and there and jabbered to my parents who, I have to imagine, had better things to do than listen to my kindergarten, artistic nonsense for an hour. 

Crayons and Crayola Markers may not be the cleanest or most efficient tools, but I miss my turkey handprints and the fairy tales doodled on my hand during math class daydreams. Often, I came home from school with wrists and forearms dotted with hot pinks and laced with electric blues.

My parents always told me I had something special, but what parent doesn’t think their child is the most special in the world? Once in second-grade art class, I refused to follow directions. I glued my construction paper leaves falling off the tree rather than remaining on the branches like everyone else. My teacher smiled when I turned in my project. Bending the rules had earned my piece’s place the Principal’s selection, displayed with my name in big letters underneath.

Growing older shifted my artistic style from sidewalk chalk and fantasy to a brooding, looming mist. My best friend Becca and I were a package deal. Losing her to a cross-country move shattered me like a porcelain vase tumbling to concrete. I felt like the chaotic greens and reds of an incoming squall line on the local news weather radar. After some time, the storm and my shock passed. Left in its wake were toppled trees and discarded roofs of my heart.

Junior year was my hardest, and navigating it alone without my partner in crime overwhelmed me. Classes that once came easily and were fun because of her only reminded me of my loss. I didn’t know how to make new friends. My grades and mental health had begun to decline, and I had no interest in therapy. I still hadn’t accepted that she’d gone, but painting helped. It was my emotional outlet.

My canvas is my safe place to explore my depression without judgment. I don’t want to answer a million questions about what I’m feeling and why. I want to be left alone with my color palette and canvas, so I painted. I painted a lot.

My first pieces featured muted blues and smooth strokes that symbolized the pain and sadness of losing someone close to you. As my emotions evolved, so did my visual expressions. I experimented with abstract expressionism to communicate my convictions and values.

My most significant work was a self-portrait. I framed my face with a blue and teal base, a nod to my previous works and a somber undertone without detracting from the emotional center: anger. I’m wearing dark clothes covered head-to-toe, signifying my refusal to be vulnerable or ask for help. I’m holding an extinguished match, a symbol of my social and academic burnout.

What catches most reader’s eye upon initial inspection is a number 1 over my left eye. The “1” is the only clear aspect amongst the wild, angry strokes. Without Becca, I felt alone in my depression. My self-portrait is haunting, and it’s my pride. I dedicated around 30 foreground layers over many months, offering contrast that distinguishes it from other components. I deployed watered down paint, palette knife scratches, spatter paint techniques, and paint brushes to create a chaotic, but visually pleasing piece.

I made the difficult choice to compete in the Texas VASE competition. My painting is extremely private, but I recognized that showcasing my self-portrait as an opportunity to “come out” about my feelings and struggles. I made VASE State sophomore year with a less expressive piece, so I feared the extensive interview with art professionals.

On competition day, I entered, trembling, painting in hand. I felt intimidated yet undeterred. I stood firm, looked her in her eyes, and spoke directly about my recent depression. To my surprise, she remarked my piece was beautiful and encapsulated everything she was looking for. Rattling off my composition choices and inspirations made me slowly realize that maybe my darkest emotions produced something brilliant.

Days passed until my art teacher emailed me. My jaw dropped; I qualified for state in the highest division. Emboldened, I wasn’t afraid to share my journey and encourage other students to express their emotions through art. I eventually received all-state honors, so I used my platform to demonstrate that it's okay to embrace and share your darkest sides. My piece now hangs prominently at school as a reminder to my classmates and teachers that we can transform dark, painful experiences into beautiful and inspiring works of art.

Commentary

 Originally, this applicant was going to write about something totally different. On our phone call, they shared “sure, my first draft is okay, but what I really want to write about is…” and out came this story about their best friend moving and using art as a method for introspection, self-expression, and advocacy. It went through many drafts and was initially twice as long as the final copy.

They did an excellent job of supplying as much content as possible early on so we could figure out how to fit the pieces together in the most optimal way. Their drafting process is also a perfect example of writing what’s important to them rather than being overly concerned with what they think admissions reviewers want to read. There is also an unconventional and non-conformity streak that we also saw in the second Essay A example about band.

The most challenging part of their essay was illustrating their state-winning self-portrait knowing that the reviewer won’t ever see the painting (unless they clicked on an image link in the resume). Their approach is a variation on the old Apply Texas Essay D required of Fine Arts applicants to discuss an art piece or object and how it shapes their view of the world. Developing not just the image itself but the design process suggests to the reviewer that they’re willing to put in the work to convert their ideas into creative output.

They’re unafraid to share their emotional oscillations as they confront each step in their journey: their friend moving, early attempts at their final work, having to discuss their piece in an initially intimidating-seeming interview, and finally showcasing their piece in a highly visible place at school. Despite ranking outside of the top 10%, this applicant eventually gained admission to Plan II certainly due in part to their authentic and sincere Essay A.

Kitten Rescue and Fostering

It was 3 a.m. I knew that we needed to start the protocol. I held the tiny kitten’s limp body as he struggled to breathe. I rolled him into a small towel, and every three minutes, I dripped sugar water into his mouth. I refused to give up on Otis. I believed that, as long as I held him, there was a chance he would keep breathing.

It wasn’t the first time I needed to follow the Fading Kitten Syndrome Protocol, but it never gets easier. Tears rolled down my face. Otis writhed and spread the sugar-water paste in my hands. Eventually, he stopped moving. I couldn’t help but feel I had given up and that this was my fault. His mom, Chickpea, looked at me. I desperately wished I could comfort her. I left Otis with Chickpea and searched our garage for a box.

When I walked into Austin Pets Alive (APA) the next morning, the clinic technician recognized the “dreaded box.” She comforted and reassured me. Kittens are fragile creatures. She shared that even the most experienced fosters sometimes lose little ones and reminded me that I had a nursing mom at home with healthy babies who still needed care.

Years earlier, my mom brought home four, hours-old rescue kittens. I couldn’t believe something living could be so tiny and helpless. Of course, I begged to keep them all, but orphaned neonatal kittens require exhausting medical care. For example, I’ve since learned that they cannot pass their waste and need belly rubbing to help them go. It's a messy, delicate, and time-consuming process.

With our four kittens, we drove from shelter to shelter until one referred us to APA. I didn’t know there were kitten foster programs, so I pleaded with my mom to let us foster adolescents. I promised to help, and so began my APA journey.

Throughout high school, I assumed complete responsibility for our fosters. I mixed ground cat food with hot water to make a fine gruel. I fed kittens through syringes every 4-6 hours. I weighed them twice daily and plotted their weight gain. I tried my hardest to save the sickest ones.

My favorite cats are pregnant ones. Frankie, an expecting mother, loved to sleep in my room—a rare privilege. She was so sweet and followed me everywhere. Birthing is an incredibly joyous and anxious process. It’s wonderful to witness little blind babies squirming toward their exhausted mom. It amazes me every time how the moms clean them tirelessly despite spending hours in labor.

Letting the kittens go is an entirely different experience. Some friends ask if it’s sad to send them away. It’s actually the opposite. APA screens prospective adopting families who we also interview. Matching kittens with caring owners and “forever homes” is one of the most rewarding parts of the process.

There were, of course, a few kittens that were hard to say goodbye to, but there are always more foster animals in need of a temporary home. However, after nine years of resisting the urge to keep adorable kittens, we experienced our first “foster fail,” and I now have my own little black cat named Louis.

I also started volunteering onsite at the APA shelter as soon as I was old enough, and I naively thought volunteering would involve playing with cute animals all day. Cleaning cages and emptying litter boxes was a less-fun reality. But it’s the important, behind-the-scenes work that makes shelters function.

Since my freshman year, I’ve contributed over 1,700 hours fostering and volunteering. For three years in a row, I was honored to receive the President’s Gold Volunteer Service Award and recognition for having the most volunteer hours at my high school.

I’ve learned that APA is almost single-handedly responsible for making Austin a No-Kill city (a city that saves 90% or more of animals brought into shelters). I intend to continue volunteering with APA as a UT student to help keep it that way.

I have also learned that the well-being of all living creatures contributes to biodiversity and humanity. I don’t eat meat, I make efforts to consume responsibly to lessen habitat loss from factory farming, I try to minimize my carbon footprint, and I constantly advocate for others to adopt these habits. The biggest impact has been from staring into those animals’ faces at APA: it inspires me to offer a voice for those who can’t speak up for themselves.

Commentary

This applicant touches on pretty much all of the emotional heartstrings. They open with a harrowing story attempting to rescue a kitten life. Chickpea’s personality comes through, and the reader empathizes with the grieving mother. They switch gears a few times sharing heartwarming and cute stories about Frankie and Louis while discussing broader themes related to animal welfare and no-kill shelters.

I’ve never had a kitten or fostered cats, so early on, I encouraged her to share anecdotes and specific examples of cats that have passed through their house and a few who have stayed for longer. Naming each cat enriches the story and also limits the potential for the reader to lose track of which cat is who. If, for example, you share about multiple friends or teammates in an essay, it helps organize your ideas if you name which friends you’re talking about even if they’re pseudonyms. Compiling a list of experiences and stories prior to making a formal first draft helped us see how the pieces might fit together. Starting with the story you want to tell makes weaving in related themes later on a little bit easier.

They’re applying for Sustainability Studies, so their Essay A relates directly to their major. They also utilize this opportunity to discuss their extensive volunteering experiences and other lifestyle changes they’ve made from having a broader awareness of individual behaviors that influence society. It sets up their Major and Leadership short answers where they continue elaborating on their activism and advocacy efforts. Maybe most importantly, the applicant had a lot of fun navigating the writing process because they were writing on a topic close to their hearts and directly relevant to their daily lives.

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Multiple Setbacks/Injuries

I went down hard, tumbling across the court. I skinned my knees and elbow as the basketball flew out of my hands towards the other fifth graders. The Sun Devils were our fiercest competitors. Facing them in the first round of the playoffs was tough enough. Tripping over another player and face-planting in front of everyone made our day even more difficult. I heard shouting from the bleachers and looked up. “Get up, you’re okay, keep going!” With my parents’ encouragement, I peeled myself off the court and kept playing.

Growing up, I loved to play basketball; I dreamed of making my high school team. I worked hard enough to join and eventually start for an AAU team. I also started for my middle school team, leading each in three-point shooting and scoring. At the end of eighth grade, however, I started experiencing severe knee pain. A specialist diagnosed me with osteochondritis dissecans. Repetitive knee trauma from playing basketball created blood flow loss in the joints and caused dead spots on my bones. 

For six months, I lived with debilitating knee inflammation because fluid surrounded my joints. I couldn’t walk up a single flight of stairs without pain. Fearing re-injury or surgery, my parents decided that my basketball days were over. I would never realize my dream of playing in high school. My recovery took over a year until I could finally play a little bit of pickup basketball with friends.

Unfortunately, I've been no stranger to pain or life-changing conditions. By age five, I received a tonsillectomy, adenoidectomy, ethmoidectomy, and yet another surgery when a life-threatening mastoid sinus infection compressed my brain stem. When I was seven, I was diagnosed with slight scoliosis, which wasn’t an issue until the beginning of ninth grade. My spine specialist informed us that my spine’s curve had worsened.

I had to wear a back brace that spanned from just below my waist to near the top of my chest for fourteen hours a day, every day. Breathing, and especially eating, felt unimaginably uncomfortable, like a giant squeezing me in a bear hug yet never letting go. My spine stopped curving by the end of my junior year, and thankfully, I avoided surgery, barely. I live with visible scars around my ribs from the brace’s rubbing.

During my junior year, a surgeon removed a large aggressive cyst in my jaw that required bone grafting. This cancer scare severely affected my parents. I often watched them whispering to each other, faces painted with worry. I appreciated that they kept me focused on school or my volunteer work so that I didn’t internalize their fear. 

My parents give me courage. They come from low-income families and continuously strive to create a better life for us. They are self-employed and work long hours, evenings, and weekends to support us. I witnessed my mom overcome an injury of her own. For over two months, she grimaced while strapping on a knee brace to stabilize her torn ACL so that she could work. I realize now how much they influence my recoveries. I follow their “never give in, never give up” attitude. 

I may have a few scars, but they don’t define me. They serve as reminders that life often takes unexpected turns. How we handle them shapes our true selves. I didn’t let my limitations prevent me from finding new ways to be active and give back to my community. 

When my basketball career ended, I returned to the court as a volunteer wheelchair basketball referee. Since my back brace prevented me from my usual volunteer work loading food trucks at our local food bank, I started the first-ever virtual food drive for my FBLA school club. We collected $4,200 in donations for the local food bank.

While researching poets for my English class this year, I learned about the poet Khalil Gibran.   He wrote, “out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars.” I wear my scars with pride. 

Commentary

The introduction of this student’s first draft read, “I went down hard, tumbling across the hardwood floor, the basketball flying out of my hands, skinning both of my knees and one elbow in the process.  “Get up, you’re okay, keep going” I could hear my parents shouting from the bleachers.  No matter what I’ve done, my parents have always been there to push me through the struggles and the pain.  I would take a few more spills and collect a few scars along the way, but they were always there for me.”

Compared with the final introduction, the reviewer has a much clearer idea of the setting that also grabs their attention. The intro had been underdeveloped, and there was so much potential here to expand both the original anecdote and other questions left unanswered that, although the core themes and experiences remained similar throughout each round of revisions, they developed their ideas and illustrated details substantially by the final version. Describing a scrape sets up their much more serious and varied ailments and injuries later on.

Some students are self-conscious to discuss accidents, disabilities, impairments, or hardship. It’s an understandable concern, that they don’t want to be perceived as “whiny” or playing up an otherwise minor injury too dramatically. In reality, though, admissions reviewers want to reward students and not penalize them.

In instances of genuine hardship, I encourage students to share their experiences with their admissions reviewers. It puts your transcript and resume into a much different light compared with the more typical applications from able-bodied and consistently healthy students. Confronting adversity and overcoming obstacles makes your commitments and accomplishments all the more impressive, especially if you can demonstrate with specific examples how you’ve made the most of your troubles, like when the student pivots to being a ref in a wheelchair basketball league after having to retire from competitive play.

Much of our revision work was to supply as many details as possible. A good essay might say “we raised money for charity” and a better one elaborates “we raised $4,200 for our local food bank.” Making dozens of small substitutions and supplying minor details adds up over time to a more sophisticated and nuanced essay. With each sentence, ask yourself: are there any details I can provide? It’s preferable to provide as much information as possible and trim/cut stuff later than to leave ideas, anecdotes, and themes underdeveloped.

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Dubai and Chicago

It’s midnight in Dubai. I sat opposite the Burj Khalifa with tears streaming down my face.

My family and I had just moved a few days before. My senior year at my new school started soon. I’m thousands of miles away from my community barbershop in Chicago, a modern-looking studio in which familiar faces smile and laugh and hip-hop beats blast from bass-boosted speakers. I’ve got a curly top faded on the sides; my hair needs that subtle touch. I needed a haircut, and I don’t trust just anyone to trim around my ears and clip my curls just right.

After a long night at the mall, I took a gamble and walked into the barbershop. I tried not to look in the mirror as he chopped here, shaved there. Unless inside a nice restaurant or mall, there’s sand everywhere in Dubai. I foot-doodled the dust, but gusts of wind kept blowing it away. The barber waved the mirror waving in front of my face. It wasn’t a Chicago fade but not half bad, either.

I sat a little dazed, unaware that my barber was digging around in a small wooden drawer. He approached me with a long string. I leaned back in the chair and closed my eyes, expecting him to remove the apron, blow away trimmings, clean up my neck, and send me on my way.

Staccato zipping sounds ripped apart my thoughts and, it turned out, my eyebrows. My eyes flare open. A sharp pain registered from my sinuses. I realized that the barber had started threading my eyebrows, unannounced and with vigor. I understood only later that eyebrow threadings are the norm in the kind of barbershop I entered.

I went with it. I figured when in Dubai, do as the Arabs. I settled into the pain and discomfort and embraced the change. Part of me wanted it to happen, maybe because I also realized there was no turning back.

The barber ripping my tiny hairs reminded me of my abrupt uprooting from Chicago to Dubai. My family relocated as quickly as the barber’s decision to thread me. I’m moving cities and threading my eyebrows, whether I like it or not — nothing to do but go with the flow.

I find excitement in the uncertainty. Confronting challenges comes with new experiences that expand my worldview and sense of self beyond Chicago and the US. In a sense, eyebrow threading was a kind of character building. Can I remain stoic and look tough when my eyes want to well up? If nothing else, I’ve got a story for my barber brothers back home.

It wasn’t my first time in Dubai. We spent my seventh grade here and the next four years in Chicago. I remember a lot from that year and even adopted a few customs: I ate on the floor, with my right hand and no silverware. I’m half North African, so in a way, I enjoyed connecting with my father’s Tunisian side, where men have finely sculpted eye hedges.

I didn’t always live in the same part of Chicago, either. I loved living in the suburbs: block parties, neighborhood holiday barbeques, and even a community golf tournament. We then moved to the inner city, real Chicago, where my neighbors didn’t talk to each other. To visit my old friends, I needed to take two trains and a bus. Over time, we lost touch. Urban life felt cramped, but it wasn’t all bad. It’s where I got my first fade.

I’m still assimilating my suburban, urban, and ex-pat lives with my Arab-American upbringing. My broccoli-style fade and loose thrift-store clothes reflect my inner-city barbershop. I feel most at home with my friends in the suburbs, but I have no issues laying roots and making friends here in Dubai. I’ve got something of a swagger that my Dubai friends call “American ego.” I take it as a compliment; I’m not afraid to speak my mind.

Nobody would mistake me for an American after getting my eyebrows done. I realized that there will always be something new and exciting in my environment, no matter how stagnant it might seem. As a citizen of the world, I can belong anywhere, adapting to any changes in my life.

On my walk home from the barber, I sniffled my tears in and gazed across the beautiful Dubai skyline. Blood and sweat were mixing and dripping off my chin onto my white tee; I felt hopeful and excited for the new experiences of the year to come.

Commentary

Many students change schools, cities, and sometimes countries. This applicant has a lot going on. They moved to different neighborhoods and schools within Chicago and also spent their senior year in Dubai. They’re also part Arab, so they navigate these varied geographic and identity intersections through entertaining anecdotes and attention-grabbing details.

Like with the first essay in this post, their personality and character shine through this time with hair and haircuts as the symbol for cultural assimilation and identity exploration. It’s also a metaphor for risk-taking and going with the flow. With never meeting the student, an admissions reviewer will be left with a favorable impression. Admissions people read dozens and sometimes over a hundred essays each day. Applicants should avoid being forgettable.

One hypothetical exercise I sometimes assign to parents is: if your son/daughter’s essay was put into a pile with ten of their classmates with their information disguised, could you select your students among the pile with confidence? The average college admissions essay often reads like a Wikipedia entry devoid of personality with little story development or idea arch. I’m fairly certain if either parent read this essay among ten of their Dubai classmates, they’d know by the second paragraph it belongs to their son.

This essay is intrinsically interesting because they’ve lived a varied life in different environments. Living in many places isn’t a requirement for writing interesting essays that stand out, however, and with each example I supply here, every student has at least one story or moment that is unique and worth sharing. It’s also okay to write a little more informally if rigid grammar and a stuffy style doesn’t suit you.

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Sibling Rivalry

My brother, Brock, was sitting on the floor playing with his Gameboy. I should have seen what was coming next as I ran past. He saw his chance and, being his sneaky self, he took it. My left foot hit the ground and found his outstretched legs. I flew into a cabinet and split my head open. He looked over at me and, instead of asking if I was okay, he said what any brother would, “Please don’t tell Mom!” I spent the rest of the day with my mom in the doctor’s office holding a cold soda can and a dishrag over my head while he went to the zoo with his friend.

From the moment I was born, my very presence aggravated Brock. My mom tells stories of making dinner with me next to her playing and minding my business in the ExerSaucer when Brock, who’d been contently playing in another room, would stealthily appear. He timed his bops on my head the very second my mom turned away from me. I swear I’m being objective here, but 95% of the time, Brock instigated our fights. We’d be playing nicely when out of nowhere, he would clench his jaws, grab whatever was in my hand, and wallop me for good measure.

His antagonism continued until he was in eighth grade and me in sixth. Almost overnight, it seemed that his attitude changed. I cannot pinpoint exactly why our dynamic shifted. Maybe growing faster than him and starting to beat him at video games tipped the scales. I was taller and weighed more. Maybe he just started maturing. Whatever the case, him not picking on me gave me more space to grow and develop my identity and interests. Starting in middle school, we became really close, and he started actually wanting to hang out with me.

My first year of high school, I wasn’t very outgoing. I felt out of sorts in a new environment attending a school much larger than the small one I’d attended for ten years. I spent most of my weekends at home alone, maybe seeing a friend every few weeks. It wasn’t until my brother started encouraging me to go out more and socialize that I realized how much more enjoyable life is when you can share experiences with others.

Time heals all wounds, even forehead scars. Nowadays, my brother, a current Longhorn, feels like my closest friend and mentor. I look up to and try to emulate him and his friends, for better or worse as my parent say. My brother has probably taught me more about myself and the world than anyone else. He’s confident almost to a fault. Self-assurance seems to come easily for him, which is a gift in one way, but working through my insecurities and developing self-esteem helps me not take any relationships or opportunities for granted. I remember my lonely days. I’ve realized recently that, if I want to do great things, having faith in myself will instill confidence in others.

I struggled at first to put myself out there, but I listened to his advice and began by inviting people over and planning gatherings and activities. Now, I’m quite social, and I’m proud to have friends from a variety of social circles at school. I’ve also made friends through lifeguarding job and mutual friends at other schools. One reason I want to study business is to network with thought leaders and continue taking myself out of my comfort zone. I admit that I’m still not as adventurous or outgoing as I would hope, but thanks to my brother, I see the world in a different light. College will help me expand my horizons.

I have spent more of my life beside my brother than I have anyone else. For that, I’m infinitely thankful. In times of joy or my darkest hours, there is nothing else that can brighten my days like a call or a visit to Austin. No one else has put me through more hell nor given me as much guidance as my big brother Brock.

Commentary

I like this essay because it provides a straightforward discussion of their relationship with their older brother. Siblings, especially if they’re close in age, often leave lasting marks on our beliefs, character, and interests. Certainly, any admissions reviewer who has an older sibling can probably relate to their stories, including me with an older brother six years my senior.

Originally, the essay opened with a generalization about his older brother making life difficult. I suggested: why not illustrate a specific experience that illustrates this broader sibling rivalry theme? Out came the tripping and head injury story along with more backstory about his brother’s seeming nuisance. Their story is also believable in that their relationship matured and strengthened over time from one of annoyance to mentorship. Side note, I worked with the older brother two years prior, so it was entertaining for me to read this essay and hear the younger brother’s thoughts.

They back up their points about their brother’s support with specific examples of how they’ve moved out of their comfort zone or study business in the future. They also balance well a discussion of their brother with how it’s helped their personal development and sense of self. Particularly with essays about grandparents and parents, the applicant spends way too much time discussing their influence and too little about the applicant’s interests and identities. Universities are admitting you, the student, and not your favorite aunt.

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Hurricane Harvey Cleanup and Open Source Technology

I looked around and couldn’t believe my eyes. Molded clothes rested on frayed couches. Abandoned toys sat next to damaged compressors. Damp letters seeped through mailbox doors. It surprised me how quickly appliances rust. Two weeks after Hurricane Harvey departed, homeowners still milled about in shocked disbelief. We drove past the lives of so many families, contained in trash bags at the end of their driveways, waiting to be picked up and dumped in a landfill.

When Harvey hit two years ago, we were fortunately spared. I still shudder at tornado warnings and fear the next big one, but my best friend Davis’s life would never be the same. He lost his house, not in the initial deluge, but when the army corps of engineers released a levy by his neighborhood that was overflowing with storm surge. His family didn’t have flood insurance, but I was thankful that FEMA eventually awarded them about $40,000 to help rebuild.

Davis and I played club and high school lacrosse together since we were ten, and our parents are close friends. During the two weeks it took for all the water to recede, the police blocked entry to his subdivision to prevent looting and theft. As soon as possible, our lacrosse teammates and I mobilized and went to his house.

Harvey poured problems on hundreds of thousands of families. Our efforts were hardly a drop in the bucket compared to the overall catastrophe, but an accumulation of individual effort eventually filled buckets for Davis and his family. We removed everything from the first floor: drywall, insulation, flooring, appliances, furniture, and memorabilia. It took our team of thirty over ten hours to finish the demolition and sort the debris into piles on the front lawn for eventual removal.

We were all a little nervous about talking to Davis because we thought that we’d struggle to find words that would provide emotional support. In reality, sincerity and support came naturally. It’s surreal how we talked about new plays for the upcoming season while shattering tile and ripping out drywall. We took turns straining ourselves to smash the water-soaked floor tiles, making sure no-one got too exhausted. Our parents found it just as natural to support Justin’s. What can you do besides make small talk about Houston sports and the heat and humidity?

For most of my life, sports began and ended with proving I was the best, winning championships, or earning a college scholarship. I competed in Division 1 showcases before breaking my wrist twice, limiting my future athletic opportunities. After Harvey, I realized that teamwork and camaraderie go beyond the field, and our relationships mean more than state rankings.

Although it felt great to be there with my team helping Davis, I couldn’t help but think of the other 30,000 displaced peoples, many of whom lacked flood insurance. Our 300-man hours merely demolished a home they still needed to rebuild. Witnessing nature’s power made me feel smaller and weaker than I ever had before, but it’s clear I wasn’t alone in feeling that way.

Harvey inspired a team of computer scientists to found Organization, Whereabouts, and Logistics (OWL) to aid with natural disasters. They won IBM’s inaugural Call for Code challenge. OWL offers a hardware/software solution that provides first responders with a simple interface for managing natural disasters. Their system could have provided better information to the Army Corps of Engineers to better inform whether flooding Davis’s neighborhood was necessary.

Even as the next lacrosse season started and Davis, along with our other displaced friends, returned home after almost a year of rebuilding and renovating, I didn’t forget about project OWL. It’s open-source, meaning anyone can visit with and modify the code. I started to try and contribute to the project but felt too intimidated to do much because I didn’t understand most of the code, let alone have the competence to improve it.

Throughout junior year, I focused on personal projects to improve my skills. I finally developed the confidence to contact the project OWL founders. It turns out one of them lives a few minutes drive away. We connected, and he gave me complete access to the source code and hardware challenges. I’ve been both working on the user-interface part of the software and creating new enclosures for the hardware. Wherever my college journey or career takes me, using technology to help society will remain at my forefront.

Commentary

Hurricane Harvey essays have been understandably very common since the disaster a few years ago. Usually, a good rule of thumb is to dedicate an essay to Harvey only if your family was directly affected like losing your home or a parent’s job. This essay, however, is less about the direct effects of Harvey on the applicant and more as a critical junction in the applicant’s life. The reader gets the impression that having a close friend and lacrosse teammate losing their house is almost the same as if it were their own.

Dedicating the first half of their essay to sharing their experiences of he and their teammates helping their friend’s family illustrates some of their character traits and their outlook on the world. One way to discuss an event is to describe your expectations prior and how they may have changed or evolved after the event passes. For example, they share how the experience is a lot less straightforward than they expected. “We were all a little nervous about talking to Davis because we thought that we’d struggle to find words that would provide emotional support.”

I think if they spent the entire essay discussing Davis and the cleanup effort, it would fall into the trap of focusing too much on someone else when admissions reviewers are admitting the applicant, not their friend. Developing the first half of their essay with the undercurrent of service helps establish the framework for the second half where they identify an opportunity to contribute to an open-source project. This signals to their reviewer that the applicant is considering wider disaster management and relief efforts beyond demolishing a house. Nobody presumably told the student they needed to reach out to a local startup. Demonstrating initiative like this is one way to convey to reviewers that you’re someone who goes beyond expectations and seeks out opportunities that interest you.

Helping the Family Business

My mom has an online gift store business called Zip’s Bazaar, that has approximately fifty brands, encompassing hundreds of different products. During my freshman and sophomore years, I grew increasingly interested in how she interacts with customers, procures products, and manages balance sheets. Once, I identified an efficiency issue with her inventory management. She manually tracked inventory levels, a tedious process that impeded her ability to maximize product delivery and customer satisfaction.

I considered different solutions, but nothing seemed obvious until my school counselor recommended a specialized online research and product development course sponsored by our school district. As an inventory and sourcing analyst for Zip’s Bazaar, I’m responsible for evaluating potential product lines and brands to sell. I also reconcile the quantity and pricing of incoming goods from suppliers. The specialized course would teach me organizational skills and how to rectify inventory issues and improve the efficiency of our family business.

I enrolled just in time because my mom’s business was continuing to expand out of the garage and living room. I even amusingly worried that inventory might find its way into my bedroom. I mused, “Mom will inevitably expand her sprawling, overflowing inventory from the garage to my bedroom – certainly, a hostile takeover.”

At the course orientation, they instructed us to work with a mentor to build a product with real-world implications in preparation of the school district-wide Spring Exposition. I connected with a local professional programmer. After researching the automated alternatives to managing a diversifying inventory, I learned that the Radio Frequency (RF) scanner implementation in warehouses was too expensive and intensive. I realized that I had a year to fill the void in maximizing the efficiencies of businesses like my mom’s.

Although I struggled with designing an affordable and functional product, I thought about how saving my mom time would allow her to spend more time with us. Even better, I developed my product in secret. My mom knew that I was enrolled in a business research class, but she was unaware that she would be my inspiration for the product development stage.

After a few months, I conceived the Smart Container idea. It could effortlessly track the quantity of an assigned inventory item rather than manual inputs. It consisted of a concealed circuitry system that stored and recorded pieces of a single time, providing easy accessibility to each product line.

Product weight is critical to my mom’s business; so, I utilized the Arduino microcontroller kit instead of Raspberry Pi, which lacked the required accuracy of a built-in weight tracking functionality. Arduino is an electronics platform for digital projects that would automate my mom’s manual inventory processing. I formulated a mathematical approach that displays the number of items in the container at any moment by dividing the total weight of items in the container by the weight of a single known item. Simple arithmetic ensured a structured method of maintaining accurate and acceptable inventory levels.

I solved the software problem, but the hardware proved more concerning. I scrambled for a load cell, which converts applied pressure into an electrical signal. I also found an HX711 amplifier module that intensifies the signal for output as physical weight. I finally completed the invention and subsequent product testing a mere week before the unveiling at the Project Exposition in April.

At the spring showcase concluding the course, my father, course mentor, and I planned the surprise for my mom. I stood in front of the audience while mom sat in the front row. She was utterly oblivious as she encouraged me to uncover my inventory tracking product.

When I finally revealed my creation at the product demonstration, she inspected the functionality and design. “How thoughtful!” she exclaimed. I grinned sheepishly, slightly embarrassed by the glowing mom-praise. An established business professional in the audience advised me to file a patent and pitch it to nearby emerging companies.

The real test is whether mom would use it. She loves the Smart Container because it saves her tedious Excel inputs and automates her re-ordering invoices from suppliers. I am proud of my technical achievement, but ensuring that my mom and I can spend more quality time together before her only child leaves for college fills me with satisfaction. It turns out that my mom is indeed planning a hostile takeover of my bedroom when I move away next year.

Commentary

This essay is an excellent example of how you can dedicate an entire essay to identifying issues and proposing solutions similar to Common App number 3 “Describe a problem you’ve solved or a problem you’d like to solve.” One great thing about Apply Texas Essay A is you can discuss and share nearly anything, and almost any Essay A has the potential to fit Common Application essays or the U California Insight Questions. If you’re applying to nationwide universities in addition to UT, it can be a good idea to start with Apply Texas. Such a broad topic allows you to easily repurpose it for other universities whereas some Common App essay topics may not fit as nicely with Essay A.

Some of the essays exhibited in this post change timeframes or shift the chronology where something in the middle of the essay happens before something introduced in the beginning. This is a great example of how you can effectively share your story in a linear way: A thing happened, B event occurred next, and C presented obstacles. The reviewer knows exactly where the student is, and there isn’t any confusion about what is happening when. It can be very effective if executed well to move between different times, but sometimes, students err by shifting too quickly between examples and not adequately signaling to their reviewer the timeline of their experiences.

They’re also applying to the Business Honors Program, so they understand how honors reviewers will look for signs of business savvy and creative problem-solving. Their chosen content and story match their future goals and lays the foundation for their other essays. I especially like the two paragraphs beginning with “Product weight is critical to my mom’s business….” and ending at “….I finally completed the invention and subsequent product testing….” because they detail exactly what issues they confronted and how they trial and errored their way to two workable solutions. It’s also a neat conclusion that their mom actually used the Smart Container and it wasn’t just a “proof of concept” tucked away and forgotten in the garage somewhere.

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Rural Private School, Serving Abroad, NASA

I hiked up the steep dirt road to a one-room church. I shouldered a black box containing a Cajon, my box-like percussion instrument. Sweating under the load, we reached the hill’s crest. I entered the church first while the rest of my team followed. Stucco walls and nearly two dozen cheerful Hondurans greeted us.

None of the locals spoke English, and our classroom Spanish had limited use, so my friend brought out his guitar. A guitar they recognized as an instrument; it wasn’t obvious that my wooden box was meant for playing and not sitting. Cajons are popular in Cuba and Peru. You sit on top and drum on the front with your hands, so it’s perfect for jamming and traveling because you can beat different sounds without lugging an entire drum kit.

We played a few songs. Afterward, our translator told me that the pastor wanted to learn how to play. I agreed! We spent the afternoon providing beats for worship music familiar in the United States and Honduras sung in both English and Spanish. Common tunes and the language of music brought us together despite some communication barriers.

I live in a small town where everybody knows everybody. We help our neighbors out. My parents teach me important lessons about connecting with people and serving others. I remember joining them for the annual Thanksgiving meal provided by the local food pantries. We served awesome turkey dinners. My parents also anonymously assist some of my classmates to help pay their private school tuition. Their influence shapes my views on service and humility, whether it’s mission work abroad or helping in my hometown. Regardless of where I go to college, I will always feel a responsibility to my community.

When I was eight, I played in a neighborhood flag football league. During one game, I accidentally head-butted another kid. I came out unscathed, but he walked away with a giant goose egg on his forehead. I apologized, and he introduced himself as Sean. He’s one of my closest childhood friends, and he even comes on family vacations. His mom Kathy Rose raised him without a father. I didn’t know until later that Kathy was diagnosed with stage 4 breast cancer right before our football field collision. Kathy held the hearts of so many in our community with her compassion and cheerful attitude. Her life and death, in 2018, have irrevocably changed me for the better.

My school has less than thirty students per grade. We only have one AP and few dual credit courses, but we emphasize service. For the past few years, we’ve sent student teams to help build a children’s home in Costa Rica. I joined for freshman and sophomore year. Although it’s a lot of tiring manual labor, my favorite part is playing with the children. We played soccer with the kids and had cut-throat duck-duck-goose competitions. I became an expert in the game Ninja thanks to a seven-year-old boy who often cheated.

It’s easier to participate in many more things than if I attended a large public school. I try to make the most of small-town life and take advantage of the available opportunities. I play varsity baseball, basketball, and golf. I’ve played the drums for my church’s youth band for three years now. I served as class President and Chaplain, and I’ve volunteered for hundreds of hours. Extracurriculars give me the chance to make friends across the Hill Country and across the state who are some of my closest.

Even though I attend a small school, I received a competitive and prestigious internship at NASA’s Johnson Space Center in Houston. Nine other students and I designed a manned-drilling vehicle for a future Mars mission. I quickly connected with my team as I had something in common with everyone. All of us were great at math, but success required diverse ideas. We contributed our thoughts about the vehicle’s look, performance, and functions.

My primary responsibility was staying within our multi-million-dollar simulated budget. We all had a dream and creative ideas, but keeping our vehicle grounded on Earth before sending it to Mars was my unpopular job. We combined our strengths to overcome individual weaknesses. We completed our project on time and under budget. Regardless of what I study or do professionally, I will remain true to my ethics of compromise and making connections like with my Cajon in Honduras or NASA budget-slashing.

Commentary

Similar to the second essay regarding band and non-conformity, this applicant does an excellent job illustrating an attention-grabbing introduction that provides a foundation throughout the body paragraphs and ties their various themes together nicely in the concluding sentences. Their conclusion also provides new information all the way until the final sentence. So often conclusions are just restatements of the obvious and multiple sentence fluff that surrenders the opportunity to communicate meaningful information to your reviewer. In more essays than not, when I reviewed for UT, I skipped the conclusion entirely if it began with some generalization about the things you’ve already told me. Every single paragraph and sentence needs to contribute to the argument of why you deserve a space at the university.

They’re also a fairly unique applicant. Their high school sends very few students to UT-Austin and has less than 40 students in each class, which they elaborate more in their Leadership short answer. It’s pretty uncommon for a student from rural Texas attending a Christian school with few or no APs to score very high on the SAT. They’re a textbook example of a diverse student UT wants to enroll even though they’re white and from a well-off and educated family. Diversity means so much more than skin color and socioeconomics.

I’m not usually a big fan of service-oriented essays. They can come off as privileged and lacking in nuance, especially if it’s a short mission trip or project in a developing country. They avoid some of these pitfalls by not embellishing their work. It’s enough to have a cool experience playing a unique instrument with people from different languages and cultures. As the Hurricane Harvey example a few essays before, this response is less about service and more about their mission trip experiences as a vehicle for a broader discussion of their biography and interests. If you’re going to write about service, maybe save it for a short answer or not dedicate your entire Essay A to it.

It’s also impressive that they pursued a rigorous NASA internship despite coming from a community where presumably their teachers and classmates are much less familiar or connected with elite opportunities than students living in wealthy suburbs. Their rural context puts their internship into a brighter light because they had to really work to apply and subsequently explore their goals. Sharing their experiences and observations sets up well their argument that they deserve a space in their first-choice major, Mechanical Engineering.

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Chess

Ne8!!, Kxe8

a8=Q#

My knight sacrifice to e8 to block the opposing king’s path set up the decisive move. I moved my pawn from the seventh to the final row, promoting it to a queen and securing the checkmate. This wasn’t just any victory; my team was confronting a must-win situation at the last stage of the regional tournament. I was paired against the opposing team’s strongest player. He had beaten me in our last two encounters. Team chess requires an accumulation of points across many matches, so I planned to play defensively and hold him to a draw.

Opening play progressed uneventfully. Fifteen moves in, he played an unusual pawn move blockading my center. He leaned back confidently. Like our earlier encounters, he offered me a tempting yet puzzling trap, but this time rather than tilting emotionally and reacting impulsively, I kept my focus and stayed true to the process.

Pushed to the corner, I dug deep and clawed back into the game. The next hour felt like forever. My lowly pawn marched steadily up the far left-hand a-column. I stared at a potential draw before deploying a novel sequence of moves. The crowd murmured. My counterintuitive knight sacrifice “Ne8!!” captured the victory and the pivotal match in our team championship. Our win meant that we represent Kuwait at the prestigious Chess Nationals of Indian Schools in New Delhi. It felt especially meaningful when a much younger player called me her hero.

My journey with chess began unexpectedly. I was waiting in the lobby of the Kuwait Chess Federation for my dad to finish his chess game. The towering teenagers in the crowded lobby bantered incomprehensibly. The coach, a chess Grandmaster, came by and trooped all the kids to their chess class. Before I knew it, he roped me in, too.

Noting that I was the smallest kid in the group and the only girl, he sat me in the corner of his class, handed me a thick Russian puzzle book, and told me to solve puzzles for the next hour. I protested, but nobody listened. With nothing better to do, I dived in as I recalled the basics my father had taught me in passing. I found the puzzles fun.

Reviewing my work, the coach raised an eyebrow, “I like the way you think. Attend chess classes, and I will assess you within the next six months.” Playing with stronger students was humbling yet incredibly liberating. As a novice free from expectations, my continued practice expanded the boundaries for what I thought possible. Learning each opening sequence or a clever middle-game bishop positioning presented a myriad of new possibilities. It’s like reading great non-fiction and realizing that I must explore five more related but previously unfamiliar works.

I began thinking differently about winning and losing. Disciplined play resulting in a close loss to a highly-rated opponent is sometimes preferable to a flashy one-off win. As I absorb stratagems from my opponents, I also touch the incredible diversity and the underlying humanity behind their distinct backgrounds. Like learning a second language, chess forces me to dissect my reasoning process. I’ve gotten more attentive to recognizing patterns in school and my daily life. My chess style requires delayed gratification and the gritting through prolonged endgames or grueling swim practices.

I also don’t hesitate to play dramatically. My favorite piece is the knight because it provides boundless innovation opportunities. Knight play strategies help me counter my opponents’ sometimes timely knight maneuvers, not unlike responding with patience and persistence to life’s occasional curveballs. Chess makes me a better person and a more thoughtful student away from the board. As I look back at my chess adventure, I see myself as a patiently advancing yet persistent pawn that will metamorphose into a powerful queen when I continue my studies in the United States.

Commentary

Leading with a chess notation signals straightaway to their reviewer that something is different about their response even if the reader doesn’t know what chess notation is. I like this example because the applicant “leads with the action.” Often, essays have these forgettably vague and generalized introductions about the importance of family or problem solving or overcoming adversity. Like conclusions, students frequently do themselves few favors by opening their essays with flat introductions that don’t grab the reader’s attention.

Even chess, which to some readers may not be the first thing that comes to mind when recalling what grabs their interest, can be communicated in ways that are dramatic, interesting, and compelling to non-chess players. Instead of spending a ton of time establishing the preceding plays and final moves, they get straight to the point that the opening notation signals victory over their opponent, so even if the reviewer has no idea what’s going on, anyone can understand the feelings that accompany a hard-fought victory.

Circling back to the middle game and how they arrived at the conclusion is a more effective timeline because this game offers an example of how the applicant perceives themselves as a younger female player relative to older the older boys at competitions. Unlike some essays that take a linear chronology where each event follows predictably from the one before, sharing their most memorable match estblishes the context to revisit how they began the sport. If they began their essay with how they started playing chess, it’s less likely to maintain their reader’s attention. Athlete’s memoirs, like Andre Agassi’s Open, rarely start with their first time hitting a tennis ball. Rather, they often lead with the most pivotal moment in their career whether it’s a victory or injury.

Finally, I appreciate how the applicant shares their views on competition. They see the bigger picture beyond winning and losing. It complements their resume by showcasing how they’re more than their accomplishments. Chess strategy and some of the pieces also serve as a metaphor for their personality and values. Even if the student has no interest in playing chess at the college level, focusing on a specific activity and developing it fully helps communicate to your reviewers who you are and what you consider important.
 

MATHCOUNTS and Number Ninjas Summer Camps

Everybody knows that the Apollo missions launched from Cape Canaveral, Florida. Fewer people know where the rocket boosters originated. A visitor can’t spend more than a few days in Huntsville, Alabama, without reminders that Wernher von Braun settled there in the 50s and led the development team for the Saturn V moon rockets. He laid the foundations for America’s first Space Camp, opened in 1982 in Huntsville, not Houston or Florida.

Rocket City had everything I needed. We lived in the same house for eight years. I excelled in math and had a close-knit group of friends. I participated and medaled in several regional and state-level competitions year after year. As I entered middle school, I had my eyes set on national competitions. To prepare, I attended the summer math camp, Eat Pie. Promising elementary and middle school students learned competitive math competitions like MATHCOUNTS and the US Mathematical Olympiad. I began as a student before quickly receiving promotion to intern. I eventually became an Eat Pie instructor, one of my most exciting experiences.

Just before 8th grade, my parents announced our move from Alabama to Austin. I loved my life and constantly argued against moving. What seemed at first like a strike-out turned into a grand slam. Instead of fretting, I saw our move as an opportunity. I brought my experiences from Eat Pie and wanted to found my own version of the math camp, Number Ninjas, in Austin.

I floated the idea to my friend, Rushil, and convinced my 8th-grade math teacher, Ms. Jones, to be our adult sponsor. Together, our team hosted our first camp in the summer of 2016 with one level and ten students. In our fourth summer, we expanded to three distinct levels - pre-introduction, introduction, and intermediate - and 45 students.

Our growth attracted the attention of Eat Pie, who officially sponsored with curriculum support and mentorship. Concerned about the continuation of the camp after we graduate, we created an internship program to train new teachers who can expand the camp and ensure its legacy. This past year, we had ten interns.

We’ve confronted challenges along the way. Hosting a summer camp requires preparing in the early spring while studying for AP exams and fulfilling our extracurricular responsibilities. Our first decisions involve identifying the site, date, and instructors. For the first two years, we hosted Number Ninjas in the Middle School facility. Our growth, however, caused logistical issues at school, so we found a local church that allowed us to host for a fee.

Growth also meant rising costs, so we transitioned from a free volunteering event to a small business. Expenses meant we needed a minimum number of students. We leveraged our association with our school’s MATHCOUNTS chapter and other academic competitions like the North South Foundation to promote our camp. We invited elementary school teachers to visit our camp and elicit buy-in.

Our primary goal was teaching children challenging math problems, but summer camps also need to be fun. Math can be especially dry to learners with short attention spans. We introduced some ice breaker activities like “Would you Rather?” to begin camp. We developed a scavenger hunt and used the outdoor labyrinth. We added student’s names in the problems to make them more appealing.

One of our biggest challenges involved our wide range of students. For example, when we teach Algebra, we always have some students who don’t recognize the coordinate plane while others plot parabolas. Some pick up new concepts almost automatically and finish the worksheets before we end the lecture. Others need hands-on attention to grasp the concepts.

For the hares, we’ve conceived challenging questions that relate to the curriculum yet introduce unfamiliar concepts. For the tortoises that want to get things right, I attempt different approaches and provide one-on-one attention. I workshop on the whiteboards, geometry nets, and online visualizations to see whether they’re auditory, visual, or kinesthetic learners.

Tortoises eventually get it, and they encourage me to have patience and think quickly on my feet. They’ve become some of our best students. We want to generate excitement for math, so it’s essential that all of our students feel that they belong and have valuable contributions to share. Now that we have multiple levels, it’s great that we have excited students returning for the next year for higher-level classes.

Founding Number Ninjas and working through logistical and teaching challenges taught me lessons about organization, collaboration, communication, instruction, and budgeting. I’m not yet sending rockets to the moon like Wernher von Braun, but introducing students to advanced mathematics and competitions may inspire the next Mars-mission rocket scientist.

Commentary

Like the essay about helping with the family business, this applicant takes a linear approach to sharing their story. It’s cool how they provide some backstory about Huntsville and it’s origins in the US Space Program. I didn’t know about its influence on the space race, and it’s highly likely their admissions reader also associate space with Houston and, to a lesser extent, Cape Canaveral in Florida.

Without dwelling too much on the city’s history, they move promptly to a brief discussion of their early interests in math beginning in elementary school. It also demonstrates a deep level of commitment to their interests and how they’ve developed their math abilities through extracurricular competitions. It’s obvious that the student as a sincere interest in higher math concepts and also sharing their knowledge with others.

Walking through the steps of how they developed their school’s MATHCOUNTS chapter before founding their own summer camp provides sufficient context to their progression. Their essay also complements their resume well. Many students work for tutoring companies and some might tutor privately. There are very few who established a summer program or camp early on and expanded their operations. Dedicating most of their essay to their varied teaching and mentorship commitments also provides an excellent opportunity to discuss bumps and challenges they encountered along the way. Their response is an effective blend of demonstrating their fit for studying business, showcasing their interests, and illustrating their leadership potential.

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Losing Your Best Friend

I shook off my anxiety, reassuring myself, “I can do this.” I strode through my morning practice run. I felt the pressure of competing in my first meet after earning a spot on the Varsity cross country at age fourteen. Coach Steve approached our team, interrupted roll call, and snapped me out of my worry. August 29th, 2016, was a Monday. 

Coach pulled me aside. He knew that Thomas and I were best friends since childhood. I don’t remember what he said, only that I felt punched in the gut, unable to breathe, as his head seems to bob in slow motion. Instantly, I knew my life wouldn’t be the same. Once I calmed down, I understood that Thomas collapsed near the track. The trainer attempted CPR before an ambulance rushed him to the hospital.

I felt numb, in disbelief, unable to process. I continued to first period as usual.  Later that morning, the school counselor pulled me out of class. Gossip had already started. She didn’t want me to hear the news from the hallways, but it was true that Thomas’s condition was severe. 

My mom had already been at the hospital with Thomas and his family when she rushed to get me from school. She remained expressionless on the drive home, but her pink, swollen eyes told me everything wasn’t okay. I was quiet. In our living room, my parents broke the news - Thomas was on life support. Doctors released him free from the tubes and monitors early the next morning.  

His sudden passing left us with so many unanswered questions. All that I knew was my best friend was gone. The next few days became very real; I couldn’t function.  His bedroom window faces my house. His lights left off after dark reminded me daily he wasn’t returning. 

How could this happen to him, to me? I felt a tremendous void filled almost immediately by loneliness and devastation.  Each day was harder than the next. School and class wouldn’t wait for me to process my feelings and grief. I missed my entire second week of school. Other days that year, I couldn’t get out of bed. I felt a complete loss of control over my life. I started worrying about not living up to my potential. I felt I was letting my coaches, teammates, and teachers down. 

I try not to be too hard on myself about my freshman year grades. I’ve since improved significantly. I also realize that life can be too short to worry about grades. I completed the 12 week Daring Way course that covers topics popular in Brené Brown’s books like vulnerability, shame, empathy, and resilience. 

My mom and I have practiced yoga together, and these help me process my trauma and channel my energies in constructive ways. I’m thankful for my encouraging teammates and close friends and family. Thomas’s mom visits a lot, and she never fails to make me laugh, reminiscing about his humor. 

She also shared what happened. He lived with undiagnosed Sickle Cell Disease, causing him to have a Sickle Cell Crisis. His condition led me to take courses in health and anatomy. During my sophomore and junior years, my health, medical terminology, pre-AP pre-calculus, and AP Physics teachers reached out to my parents and me. They write notes and commending me on my natural ability, work ethic, and joy in their classes. My teachers were the “just right” push I needed to boost my self-confidence and determination.  

I channeled my loss into purposeful activities. My hobbies involve creating, building, tinkering, and serving others. I’m starting to explore ways I can honor Thomas’s legacy. Last summer, I completed a paid internship with the orthodontist Dr. Akash. He invited me to work with him this summer as a full-time employee. 

He trusts me with equipment, sterilization, managing molds/models, and making oral retainers for his patients. I’m also being trained to perform oral x-rays and manage them digitally for viewing. Seeing patients complete their treatments and leave with confident smiles reminds me of Thomas’s sense of humor. It is fulfilling to know that I have a part in these types of positive changes.

I miss Thomas every day. I want to work with engineering and medical teams to design the next generation of equipment and procedures that will address preventable adolescent deaths like my best friend’s. 

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