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Andrian graciously shared her admissions essay with Business Insider, which we've reprinted verbatim below. Four boys stood above me on a pile of garbage. Their words, "Bota, bota, matava" — "chubby", "fatty" suffocated me: A familiar sensation of frustration and hurt gripped me. Looking for defense I only saw a cinderblock at my feet, impossible for my eight year old body to heave, so, I screamed in English: "You are just jealous that you are poor and I am American!" As the words flew out of my mouth, I knew I was wrong — there was no sense of triumphant satisfaction. I abruptly turned and ran into the refuge of my aunt's home. Upon finishing a tearful narrative to my aunt and father, I preferred the comfort of the former's arms. I avoided my father's disappointment: I knew as well as he did, that I was not the victim. Later, my hysteria subdued and guilt temporarily forgotten, I ventured outside to explore the crevices of Antananarivo. The boys were still playing atop the rubbish, then seeing me, scrambled off their mountain and ran in the opposite direction. It's okay, I thought, I wouldn't be a fan of me either. As I began walking up the street, I heard shouts: "Wait, wait!" The boys caught up to me and proudly waved hundred ariary bills in my face. In their broken English, they said in earnest and without malice, "Look! We are not poor! We have money! We are Amreekan too!" I agreed they were right and smiled sadly: one US dollar was the equivalent to seven thousand Malagasy ariary. I was made sharply aware of what separated me from these children: oceans, experience, money. Politics, ignorance, the apathy of millions. Ironically, it was also the first time I belonged to my "motherland". I could share in the simple joy of relishing what "is", be proud of the sense of resourcefulness engendered by scarcity. This memory has woven itself into my philosophy and my dreams. The very personal knowledge that millions live in a way such that electric toothbrushes are an unfathomable luxury (my cousin, Aina), has given me the following personal rules: While I may not be certain of my future, I know for certain that I want to serve. I realize that service is as important an aspect of education as is academic work. I know this passion will follow me throughout my life and manifest itself in my actions at Harvard. This memory is a mandate to serve indiscriminately and without prejudice towards those I work with. I am all the more willing to cooperate to bring improvement to the community within the College and beyond the campus. I can bring innovation in problem solving born out of the deep desire to help others. I work for these boys, for all the proud Malagasy (and even those who are not proud to be Malagasy), and the children who cherish "what is" instead of mourning "what could be".

Think of one or two sayings that you've heard again and again around your house since childhood. How have they shaped your life? What personality traits do you value most in yourself? Choose a few and jot down examples of how each has helped you. Think of things that other people often say about you. Write about whether or not you agree with their assessments and how they make you feel.

However, unlike them, since my childhood I constantly thought about and tinkered with the things that permeate our everyday lives — often technology items, like phones and software. But stories, ideas and how to communicate different messages was equally of interest.

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Orthodoxy runs deep. Last year I was traveling with a colleague from Yale. He had recently spent a week on a reservation helping Native American students navigate the college process, and he had been shocked by the degree to which the cliches and tropes of college essays had penetrated into their world. As he told me, the essays his students - who had lived vastly different lives than most mainstream applicants - were writing were indistinguishable from those written by applicants in southeastern Connecticut. They were composed of billowing clouds of "my global perspective" and "future potential as a leader" and "desire to leverage my education" to

My Childhood Memories of Grandmother Essay - 930 …

This free audio lesson is all about the Spanish imperfect tense. This important Spanish past tense is used a lot, find out when and how to use it. Essay About Myself | All About Essay 20 Sep 2016 In this essay I will attempt to explain how the mixture of England and Spain that encapsulated my childhood helped to mould that kind of person An Analysis of Aria: A Memoir of a Bilingual Childhood by | Bartleby Aria: A Memoir of a Bilingual Childhood by Richard Rodriguez is an essay that . sin against my family told whenever anyone addressed me in Spanish and I The story of the self | Life and style | The Guardian 13 Jan 2012 "Our memory is our coherence," wrote the surrealist Spanish-born film-maker, In her autobiographical essay, A Sketch of the Past, she tells us that one of her I'm sure that several of my childhood memories are actually Bookjoy Essay - Pat Mora Conversations and teasing in English and Spanish were the braided music in our childhood home. Nighttime stories comforted my three siblings and me. In the essay "Aria: A memoire of a Biligual childhood" by Richard 10 Oct 2013 In the essay "Aria: A memoire of a Biligual childhood" by Richard His use of his parent's native language at home (Spanish) impeded his George Orwell: Why I Write Why I Write, the essay of George Orwell. I produced all through my childhood and boyhood would not amount to half a dozen pages. . The Spanish war and other events in 1936-37 turned the scale and thereafter I knew where I stood. My Childhood Home I See Again by Abraham Lincoln - Poems My childhood home I see again, And sadden with the view; And still, as memory crowds my brain, There's pleasure in it too. O Memory! thou midway world 'Twixt

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Every year the entire family went on a vacation to some place. It was even more fun then. One thing I remember vividly about my childhood is my reluctance to go to school. Every day I would make some new excuse to stay away until my father had to come and spank me. I also remember the succession of tuition teachers who came to teach me Math.

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