College Application Essay Examples for Students

The “Finding My Voice in Podcasting” College Essay Example

Two years ago, I discovered the world of podcasting. It started as a hobby, listening to people discuss everything from science to social issues. Intrigued by the format, I decided to create my own podcast. My goal was to amplify the voices of young people like me, who had opinions and ideas but often felt unheard.

At first, it was overwhelming. I knew nothing about recording, editing, or even structuring an episode. But I was determined. I watched countless tutorials, borrowed a microphone from a friend, and started recording. My first few episodes were rough. I stumbled over my words, struggled to keep the conversation flowing, and faced endless technical issues. Yet, I didn’t quit.

After a few months, something shifted. I began to find my rhythm. I learned how to ask better questions, how to engage with my guests, and how to let the conversation flow naturally. Most importantly, I found my voice—not just as a host, but as a person.

Through podcasting, I learned the power of storytelling. I discovered that everyone has a story to tell, and that by listening, I could help share those stories in a way that mattered. I interviewed friends, teachers, and even local activists. Each episode became a learning experience, teaching me about different perspectives and issues I hadn’t considered before.

Podcasting taught me patience, communication skills, and the importance of persistence. It pushed me out of my comfort zone and helped me grow as a person. As I prepare for college, I look forward to continuing to use my voice—not just in podcasting, but in the classroom and beyond—to create meaningful conversations and connections.

The “Embracing My Love for Beekeeping” College Essay Example

A year ago, if someone had told me I’d be spending my weekends wearing a full-body suit tending to thousands of buzzing bees, I would have laughed. But today, beekeeping is not just my hobby—it’s my passion, my form of therapy, and my way of giving back to the planet.

It all began during a biology class field trip to a local apiary. I went with no real interest but left with an entirely new perspective. Standing near the hives, I watched in awe as bees moved in organized chaos, performing their essential roles to support the hive. I never knew how pivotal these small creatures were to our ecosystem. Without bees, much of the food we eat—from fruits to vegetables—wouldn’t exist. Learning about their role in pollination, their community structure, and their challenges sparked a deep interest in me.

When I got home that day, I did hours of research. I watched videos, read articles, and even reached out to local beekeepers. By the time spring arrived, I had gathered enough courage and knowledge to purchase my own hive. It wasn’t long before I ordered a second-hand beekeeping suit and convinced my parents to let me place the hive in our backyard.

The first few months were not without struggles. I made rookie mistakes like overfeeding the bees and misjudging the placement of the hive, resulting in stressed bees. But each error taught me valuable lessons about patience, consistency, and respect for the creatures I was caring for. Over time, I grew more confident, and my small hive began to thrive.

Through beekeeping, I found not just a passion, but a purpose. I began advocating for pollinator gardens at school and in my community. I volunteered to speak at local events about the importance of bees in the ecosystem and how everyone could help by planting native flowers and reducing pesticide use. I even started a social media account dedicated to raising awareness about the declining bee population.

The sense of responsibility that came with caring for these bees pushed me to be more involved in environmental efforts. I reached out to my school administration and proposed starting a bee club where we could maintain hives and educate other students on their importance. We’ve since held workshops, and we’re working to install bee-friendly spaces on campus.

Beekeeping has also become my personal form of therapy. Whenever I feel overwhelmed by school or life, I retreat to the hive. Watching the bees methodically go about their work calms me, reminding me of the importance of community, focus, and perseverance.

As I prepare for college, I plan to continue this passion. My dream is to study environmental science, with a focus on sustainable ecosystems. I hope to start beekeeping programs on campus and in the wider community, using it as a platform to inspire others to take action for the environment.

Beekeeping has taught me responsibility, passion, and purpose—three qualities I plan to carry with me into the next chapter of my life.

The “Learning from My Grandfather’s Garden” College Essay Example

Every summer, I visit my grandfather’s small farm nestled in the rolling hills of rural Pennsylvania. It’s a peaceful place, where the air smells of soil and fresh-cut grass, and where birdsong competes only with the rustling of leaves. For years, I thought it was just a place to relax and escape the hustle of everyday life, but this past summer, I realized it was much more than that. My grandfather’s garden was teaching me valuable lessons that extended far beyond the garden gates.

When I was younger, I would spend hours trailing my grandfather as he tended to the plants. At first, I wasn’t very involved—just an eager observer. But this year, with my grandfather’s health beginning to decline, I knew it was time for me to take on more responsibility. I decided to learn everything I could about the garden: the best time to plant tomatoes, how to prune apple trees, and the precise amount of water the cucumbers needed.

The first lesson I learned was patience. Nothing happens quickly in a garden. Seeds take time to sprout, plants need time to grow, and fruits need time to ripen. When I planted my first row of carrots, I eagerly checked them every day, only to be disappointed by the lack of immediate progress. My grandfather laughed gently and reminded me that good things often take time. Sure enough, weeks later, the tiny green shoots began to break through the soil, rewarding my patience with the promise of future harvest.

As the summer wore on, I came to see how much care and attention the garden required to thrive. I spent hours weeding, watering, and pruning, realizing that a garden was more than just a collection of plants—it was a living, breathing system that needed balance and harmony. My grandfather’s philosophy of working with nature, rather than against it, taught me the value of collaboration. Just like in the garden, success in life comes from working together, whether that’s with people or with the natural world.

The most important lesson I learned, however, was about legacy. My grandfather had built this garden from scratch, nurturing it year after year, and now it was my turn to carry on his work. As I harvested the last of the tomatoes at the end of the season, I realized that I wasn’t just tending to plants—I was tending to the memories, values, and lessons my grandfather had passed down to me. It was a gift of experience that I would carry with me for the rest of my life.

As I head into college, I plan to continue growing—not just plants, but as a person. My experiences in the garden have given me a deeper understanding of patience, resilience, and community. I hope to apply these lessons in my academic pursuits, as well as in the relationships I cultivate along the way. Like my grandfather’s garden, I want my life to be a reflection of care, persistence, and growth.

The “Chasing Shadows” College Essay Example

The summer before my junior year of high school, I stood at the edge of a cliff in Acadia National Park, looking out over the vast Atlantic Ocean. The sun was beginning to set, casting an array of colors across the sky, but my heart was heavy with uncertainty. I had spent years chasing perfection in academics and extracurricular activities, yet I felt an emptiness inside. It was during this pivotal moment that I realized I had been chasing shadows—images of success that did not truly reflect who I was or what I wanted.

Growing up, I was the quintessential overachiever. I was enrolled in advanced placement classes, participated in the debate team, and held leadership positions in several clubs. My parents and teachers praised my accomplishments, and I felt the weight of their expectations pressing down on me. As a result, I pushed myself relentlessly, always striving to do better and achieve more. However, the more I accomplished, the more I felt I was losing myself in the process.

The pressure reached its peak during my sophomore year when I was preparing for the debate state championships. In the weeks leading up to the event, I spent countless hours researching topics and practicing my speeches. I was so focused on winning that I lost sight of the joy I once found in debating. The thrill of presenting ideas and engaging in thoughtful discussions had morphed into a relentless pursuit of perfection. 

The turning point came during the championship itself. I was standing on stage, about to deliver my final argument, when I looked out into the audience. I saw my parents, beaming with pride, but their smiles suddenly felt like chains weighing me down. In that instant, I realized I was not just competing for myself; I was competing for their approval and validation. I stumbled over my words and lost my train of thought, ultimately finishing in second place. Though I had achieved a respectable outcome, I felt defeated. I had chased the shadow of success, only to find that it had led me away from my true self.

That summer, I decided to step back and reevaluate what I wanted from my life. I needed to rediscover my passions and reignite the curiosity that had initially driven me to excel. I enrolled in a photography workshop, something I had always wanted to try but never had the courage to pursue. 

As I explored Acadia National Park with my camera, I found myself immersed in the beauty around me. I spent hours wandering through the trails, framing the perfect shots of the rugged coastline and the lush forest. I began to understand that photography wasn’t just about capturing an image; it was about expressing a feeling and a perspective.

Now, as I prepare for college, I carry with me the lessons I learned that summer. I understand that success is not a destination but a journey filled with moments of light and shadow. I have learned to embrace both, recognizing that they shape who I am and who I aspire to become. Instead of chasing shadows, I will pursue my passions, confident that the light will follow. With my camera in hand and an open heart, I am ready to explore the world ahead.

THE "MYSTERY OF THE VANISHING PENCILS" COLLEGE ESSAY EXAMPLE

In my small town, pencils have always held a special place in our lives. They were not just writing instruments; they were the catalysts of imagination and creativity. As long as I can remember the day I first encountered what I like to call the “Mystery of the Vanishing Pencils.” It was a crisp fall afternoon in the fourth grade, and I had just settled down at my desk, ready to start on my homework.

As I rummaged through my backpack, a sinking feeling washed over me: my favorite pencil was gone. It was a unique pencil, decorated with bright colors and a cool eraser shaped like a cat. My friends had always admired it, and I felt a sense of pride whenever I used it. Searching every pocket and folder yielded nothing; it had simply vanished. My heart sank. This pencil wasn’t just an object; it was a symbol of my personality.

After school, I decided to investigate. I approached my classmates, asking if they had seen it. To my surprise, several other students reported similar losses. The news spread like wildfire, and soon, we gathered in the playground, comparing our missing pencils. By the end of recess, we had formed a pencil detective agency, each of us eager to uncover the mystery.

We spent the next few weeks interviewing classmates, checking classrooms, and searching the playground. Our efforts were fueled by an undeniable excitement. It became a bonding experience, a shared quest that turned our mundane days into adventures. As we pursued our goal, I realized this was more than just about my missing pencil. We were developing teamwork, communication skills, and a sense of community.

One afternoon, while brainstorming theories about where the pencils could have gone, I had an idea. What if we turned this mystery into a school-wide project? I suggested we create a “Pencil Patrol,” a team dedicated to ensuring that no pencil would go missing again. With the support of our teachers, we organized a school assembly to share our findings. We created posters, made announcements, and even set up a “lost and found” box specifically for pencils.

To our amazement, the response was overwhelming. Students brought in their own lost pencils, sharing stories of how they came to lose them. The school buzzed with excitement, and soon our Pencil Patrol became a symbol of unity. We decorated our classroom with colorful drawings of pencils and organized fun pencil-themed activities.

Eventually, we discovered that the disappearance of pencils wasn’t just a local mystery; it was a common occurrence in schools everywhere. Through this experience, I learned that seemingly small problems can bring people together in unexpected ways. The mystery of the vanishing pencils taught me valuable lessons in leadership, creativity, and the importance of community.

Reflecting on that experience, I realize it shaped my outlook on life. I began to appreciate the power of collaboration and the joy of shared experiences. Whether it’s organizing a community event, participating in group projects, or simply helping a friend, I now understand the significance of working together toward a common goal.

In high school, I continued to embrace this collaborative spirit. I joined the student council, where I proposed initiatives to enhance school spirit and promote inclusion. I initiated fundraising events for local charities, bringing together students from diverse backgrounds. Each project reminded me of the pencil detective agency, where the joy of teamwork and creativity transformed challenges into opportunities.

As I prepare for college, I carry the lessons learned from the “Mystery of the Vanishing Pencils.” I understand that every problem has the potential to spark creativity and connection. I am eager to explore new challenges and collaborate with peers who share my passion for making a difference. In a world where pencils may vanish, I believe it is our shared responsibility to ensure that creativity and connection remain vibrant.

The Story of a Forgotten Teapot

Growing up, my grandmother’s kitchen was a realm of magic. The aroma of fresh bread wafted through the air, mingling with the sharp scent of lemon, and laughter echoed against the pastel walls. At the heart of it all sat an unassuming teapot, a dusty relic of a bygone era, painted with delicate blue flowers. To most, it was just a vessel for steeping tea, but to me, it was a symbol of our family’s stories, a portal to understanding where we came from.

One summer afternoon, I found myself rummaging through the clutter in the attic, searching for treasures to display at my upcoming birthday party. It was there that I first encountered the teapot, obscured beneath a pile of old linens. I brushed off the dust and held it in my hands, feeling the cool porcelain against my skin. It was beautiful, yet it bore scratches and chips that spoke of years of use. Intrigued, I brought it downstairs, hoping to unearth its history.

“What’s this?” I asked my grandmother as I set the teapot on the kitchen counter.

“Oh, that old thing,” she chuckled, her eyes twinkling. “That teapot has been in our family for generations. It’s seen countless gatherings, laughter, and even tears. But it has a story you might not know.”

Curiosity sparked within me, and I listened intently as she began to recount the tale of the teapot. It had belonged to my great-grandmother, a woman who emigrated from Italy in search of a better life. The teapot was her companion, a symbol of comfort and home amidst the chaos of relocation. With each cup of tea shared among neighbors, she created bonds that transcended language and culture. The teapot was more than just an object; it was a testament to resilience and the power of community.

As my grandmother spoke, I realized that the teapot represented more than family lineage; it embodied the values that had shaped my life. It reminded me of the importance of storytelling and the connections we forge with one another. Inspired by this revelation, I decided to make the teapot the centerpiece of my birthday celebration, inviting friends and family to share their own stories.

On the day of the party, the teapot took center stage on the table, surrounded by an array of homemade pastries and finger foods. As guests arrived, I encouraged them to pour their own tea and share a memory or lesson from their own lives. The room filled with laughter and heartfelt anecdotes, bridging generational gaps and celebrating the diversity of our experiences. I watched in awe as the teapot sparked conversations, its chipped exterior serving as a reminder that imperfections tell a story, too.

That day, I understood the profound impact of storytelling. Each narrative contributed to a tapestry of our lives, weaving together laughter, sorrow, and hope. I felt a deep sense of connection to my heritage and an awareness of the struggles and triumphs of those who came before me. The teapot was no longer just a forgotten object; it had become a catalyst for understanding and empathy.

In the years that followed, I embraced the lessons imparted by the teapot. I volunteered in my community, fostering connections among people from diverse backgrounds, and I took every opportunity to listen to their stories. Whether it was through mentoring younger students or collaborating on community projects, I sought to create spaces where stories could be shared and celebrated.

Now, as I prepare for my next chapter at Harvard, I carry with me the values instilled in me by my family’s teapot: the importance of connection, resilience, and the power of sharing our stories. I look forward to continuing this journey, knowing that every person I meet has a narrative worth listening to, and that within each story lies the potential to inspire change.

Ultimately, the teapot taught me that even the simplest objects can hold profound meaning and that by embracing our stories, we create a bridge to understanding and a future filled with hope. I am ready to contribute my own story to the vibrant tapestry of Harvard, eager to learn from my peers and share my experiences, knowing that together we can shape a brighter future.

The Day I Became an Artist

Prompt: "What is your most treasured possession?"

Among my belongings, there is one object that stands out: a simple, unassuming sketchbook. It has become a cherished companion, one that has accompanied me through countless adventures and trials. This sketchbook is more than just a collection of paper; it is a gateway to self-discovery, creativity, and expression.

I received this sketchbook on my twelfth birthday from my aunt, a talented painter who encouraged me to explore my artistic side. At first, I was hesitant. I had always admired the work of others but never considered myself an artist. However, as I opened the blank pages and ran my fingers across the textured paper, something stirred within me. I felt a spark of possibility, a whisper urging me to unleash my imagination.

That day, I began my journey as an artist, experimenting with various mediums—pencils, charcoal, watercolors, and pastels. Each page was an invitation to explore my thoughts and feelings. I filled the sketchbook with doodles of whimsical creatures, portraits of friends, and landscapes inspired by my surroundings. The more I sketched, the more I learned about myself. Art became my refuge, a place where I could escape the pressures of school and the complexities of growing up.

One particular drawing stands out in my memory. It was a late autumn afternoon, and the trees outside my window were ablaze with hues of orange, red, and gold. I decided to capture the scene in my sketchbook. As I sat on the floor, surrounded by the warm glow of the setting sun, I felt a sense of peace envelop me. With each stroke of my pencil, I found solace in the colors and shapes, creating something beautiful that mirrored the world around me.

Art allowed me to process my emotions, especially during challenging times. In high school, I faced significant obstacles, including the illness of a close family member. The uncertainty and fear weighed heavily on my heart. During this tumultuous period, I turned to my sketchbook as an outlet for my feelings. Each drawing became a cathartic release, a way to confront my anxieties and transform them into something tangible.

I remember a particularly difficult night when I felt overwhelmed with sadness. I sat on my bed, sketchbook in hand, and began to draw a stormy sea. Dark waves crashed against a craggy shore, and lightning illuminated the tumultuous sky. As I poured my emotions onto the page, I felt the heaviness lift, replaced by a sense of clarity and purpose. Through art, I realized that it was okay to express my struggles and that beauty could arise even from pain.

As I continued to fill the pages of my sketchbook, I discovered a profound sense of community among fellow artists. I joined a local art club, where I met peers who shared my passion for creativity. We collaborated on projects, exchanged ideas, and supported each other in our artistic endeavors. This experience taught me the importance of collaboration and the power of sharing our unique perspectives.

My sketchbook not only documents my artistic evolution but also serves as a reminder of my resilience and growth. It is a treasure trove of memories, filled with sketches that reflect my journey—both the light and the dark. Looking back at my earlier drawings, I see how far I have come and how art has shaped my identity.

As I apply to Harvard, I bring with me the lessons learned from my beloved sketchbook. I am eager to explore new ideas, collaborate with diverse minds, and challenge myself in ways I never thought possible. I envision using my passion for art to contribute to the vibrant community at Harvard, where creativity thrives and ideas flourish.

In essence, my sketchbook represents the artist I have become—a seeker of beauty in both joy and sorrow. It is a symbol of my journey, a testament to the power of creativity as a means of self-expression and healing. As I turn the pages of this chapter of my life, I am excited to embrace new challenges and experiences, ready to add more to my story and inspire others along the way.

The Power of Small Talk

Prompt: "What would you say is your greatest talent or skill? How have you developed and demonstrated that talent over time?"

In a world buzzing with grand ambitions and monumental achievements, my greatest talent seems deceptively simple: small talk. This unassuming skill may not command the spotlight like grand oratory or scientific genius, yet it has the extraordinary power to connect us, bridge divides, and transform everyday encounters into meaningful exchanges.

My journey into the realm of small talk began in the unlikeliest of places: a bustling coffee shop. As a shy seventh grader, I often found solace in a corner table, sipping my hot chocolate while observing the vibrant interactions around me. One day, I noticed an elderly man struggling to carry a stack of books to his table. Hesitant but compelled by an instinctive urge to help, I approached him and offered my assistance. To my surprise, our conversation unfolded effortlessly. We talked about his favorite authors, the changes he had seen in our neighborhood, and the curious tales woven into the pages of his books. That brief encounter ignited a realization within me: small talk could serve as a bridge, connecting strangers and fostering genuine human connections.

Encouraged by this newfound awareness, I began to consciously practice small talk in various settings—at school, in line at the grocery store, and during family gatherings. With each interaction, I honed my ability to initiate conversations and engage others. I learned to ask open-ended questions and to listen actively, allowing the other person to steer the dialogue. This transformative process not only built my confidence but also illuminated the richness of human experiences hidden in mundane exchanges.

One particularly memorable instance of this skill in action occurred during my sophomore year. I volunteered at a local community center, assisting immigrants learning English. The room was filled with diverse individuals, each carrying a unique story shaped by their culture and journey. Many were hesitant to speak, feeling self-conscious about their language skills. Remembering my early experiences, I began using small talk as a tool to create a welcoming environment. I initiated conversations about their hometowns, favorite foods, and family traditions, encouraging them to share their experiences in English. Gradually, the atmosphere transformed. Laughter erupted, walls came down, and voices blossomed into confident expressions of self. I witnessed firsthand how small talk, often dismissed as trivial, could spark friendships and instill a sense of belonging.

As my passion for small talk deepened, I recognized its broader implications. In our increasingly polarized society, where divisions seem to overshadow commonalities, the ability to engage in lighthearted conversation can be a powerful tool for fostering empathy and understanding. I became determined to advocate for small talk as a means of breaking down barriers. During high school, I initiated a project called “Conversations Across Cultures,” where I organized events encouraging students from diverse backgrounds to engage in friendly dialogues. We created discussion circles, explored different cultural practices, and celebrated our shared humanity through the art of conversation.

Through this project, I learned that small talk has the potential to be a catalyst for social change. In a world often characterized by isolation and disconnection, these seemingly trivial exchanges can humanize our differences, allowing us to see the person behind the label. Small talk is not merely about filling silence; it is about acknowledging the humanity in each other, fostering a sense of community that transcends borders.

As I prepare to embark on my college journey, I carry with me the lessons learned through small talk. I am excited to engage with a diverse student body at the University of California, where I hope to share my passion for conversation and forge connections that extend beyond the classroom. In an era where we sometimes struggle to communicate, I believe that fostering connections through small talk can help us cultivate a more inclusive and compassionate world.

Ultimately, my talent for small talk is more than just a social skill; it is a commitment to understanding and celebrating the beauty of our shared humanity. In every conversation, I find a reminder that we are all storytellers, each contributing to the tapestry of human experience. With each word exchanged, we weave connections that have the power to unite us, challenge us, and inspire us to create a better world together.

The Language of Maps

Prompt: “Describe a significant experience or achievement that has shaped who you are.”

In an era dominated by digital maps and GPS systems, my fascination with cartography began the old-fashioned way: with a paper map. During a family road trip when I was ten, my parents handed me a folded road atlas, its pages filled with colorful highways, towns with peculiar names, and mountains that seemed to leap off the page. They asked me to navigate our route from our home in California to a national park in Utah. At first, the task felt overwhelming—so many lines, symbols, and legends—but as I traced our path with my finger, I felt a surge of excitement. I was not just looking at a map; I was piecing together stories, histories, and landscapes, all laid out before me.

What started as a road trip turned into a journey of discovery. As we drove, I grew curious about the places we passed. Why was there a town named “Boring”? What stories did the vast expanses of the desert hold? Each pit stop became an opportunity to explore. We visited quirky roadside attractions, sampled local delicacies, and struck up conversations with strangers who became temporary companions in our adventure. The map guided us, but it was our willingness to veer off the beaten path that transformed our trip into something extraordinary.

Back home, my interest in maps deepened. I began collecting old atlases and studying topographical maps, eager to learn how to read the intricate details that revealed more than just roads. I discovered the beauty of contours and elevations, how they narrated the terrain’s story. I immersed myself in geography, attending lectures at the local community center and participating in online courses. I even started creating my own maps, illustrating the hiking trails I explored in our local hills. Mapping was no longer just about direction; it became a means of expression, a way to communicate my adventures and experiences.

In high school, I joined the geography club and organized a “Map Day” event where students showcased their own maps and stories. I encouraged classmates to bring in their family trip maps, homemade atlases, or even digital representations of their favorite neighborhoods. The event sparked conversations about different cultures, histories, and perspectives, reminding me of the beauty of diverse narratives coexisting within the framework of geography. Seeing my peers light up as they shared their stories solidified my belief in the power of maps to connect people.

However, my love for cartography took an unexpected turn when I volunteered with a nonprofit focused on environmental conservation. The organization was working on a project to map local wildlife habitats and assess the impact of urban development. As I collaborated with biologists and ecologists, I learned how maps could serve as powerful tools for advocacy. By illustrating the fragility of these ecosystems, we were able to advocate for protective measures to preserve these vital areas.

This experience shaped my understanding of maps as instruments of change. They have the capacity to tell stories that demand attention, fostering awareness about pressing issues. The act of mapping became a form of activism, a way to elevate the voices of those who often go unheard—the trees, the rivers, and the wildlife that inhabit our landscapes. I realized that every line drawn on a map could represent hope, challenge, or even tragedy, reflecting the multifaceted relationship between humanity and nature.

As I prepare to enter the University of Washington, I carry this passion for maps with me. I am eager to explore the Geography program and engage in research that examines the intersection of cartography, environmental studies, and social justice. I want to delve into how mapping can serve as a tool for empowerment, particularly for marginalized communities disproportionately affected by climate change and urbanization.

In a world increasingly reliant on technology, my love for traditional cartography serves as a reminder that every map is a story waiting to be told. I am excited to continue weaving my narrative into the fabric of geography, using maps not just to navigate physical spaces but to advocate for those who inhabit them. The journey I began on that family road trip is only the beginning, and I am ready to chart my course at the University of Washington and beyond.

The Philosophy of a Sandwich

Prompt: “What is a good sandwich?”

To most people, a sandwich is simply two pieces of bread surrounding a filling. But for me, the perfect sandwich embodies a philosophical conundrum, an edible tapestry woven with layers of intention, flavor, and culture. It reflects the complex nature of identity, the intersection of tradition and innovation, and the art of balance.

My journey into sandwich philosophy began during summer camp when I was tasked with preparing lunch for a group of friends. We had access to a plethora of ingredients—meats, cheeses, vegetables, and spreads—yet the question lingered: what makes a sandwich good? After much deliberation, I crafted what I deemed the “Culinary Exploration Sandwich.” It consisted of a crusty baguette, a generous spread of basil pesto, roasted turkey, avocado slices, sun-dried tomatoes, and a sprinkle of feta cheese. As I layered the ingredients, I felt like a painter, each component contributing to the masterpiece that would soon tantalize our taste buds.

Once assembled, I presented the sandwich to my friends, who approached it with curiosity and skepticism. They took their first bites, and I watched their expressions shift from uncertainty to delight. The flavors danced together, creating a symphony of taste. It was in that moment I realized that a good sandwich must harmonize disparate elements. The crunch of the baguette contrasted with the creaminess of the avocado, while the pesto infused an herby brightness. This dynamic interplay mirrored the delicate balance in life itself—how different experiences, perspectives, and cultures come together to form a cohesive whole.

As I began to explore the history of sandwiches, I discovered that their evolution reflects societal changes. The classic ham and cheese sandwich, for example, is steeped in tradition, yet variations across cultures reveal how this simple meal has adapted over time. In Vietnam, the bánh mì combines French baguettes with local ingredients, showcasing a culinary fusion that embodies resilience and creativity. Each bite tells a story, reminding us that food is a language that transcends borders.

Moreover, sandwiches can serve as an expression of individuality. During my senior year, I initiated a “Sandwich Showdown” among my classmates, inviting them to create their own signature sandwiches. This endeavor sparked creativity and camaraderie, revealing how food can bring people together. I was amazed by the diverse creations: a spicy chorizo and jalapeño concoction, a sweet and savory peanut butter and banana delight, and even a vegetarian creation that combined grilled vegetables with hummus. Each sandwich was a reflection of its creator, embodying their tastes, preferences, and cultural backgrounds.

The success of the Sandwich Showdown prompted me to reflect on the larger implications of what a good sandwich represents. In a world rife with division, food can serve as a bridge, fostering understanding and appreciation of different cultures. My philosophy of a sandwich is rooted in the idea that it encourages exploration—of flavors, of friendships, and of the stories that connect us all.

As I prepare to embark on my journey at the University of Chicago, I bring with me this philosophy of balance and creativity. I am excited to engage with diverse perspectives, embrace interdisciplinary learning, and explore the ways in which seemingly disparate ideas can coalesce into something extraordinary. Much like a sandwich, education is about layering knowledge, melding different disciplines, and finding connections that might initially seem unrelatable.

In essence, a good sandwich is not merely a meal; it is a metaphor for life’s complexities. It teaches us to appreciate the flavors of our experiences, to embrace differences, and to find harmony in the unexpected. I look forward to crafting my own unique sandwich of experiences, ideas, and relationships at the University of Chicago, where the pursuit of knowledge is an art form and every interaction is an opportunity to learn and grow.

The Sound of Change

Prompt: “Choose one of the communities to which you belong, and describe that community and your place within it.”

The warm hum of my neighborhood fills my senses as I step outside. It’s a soundscape uniquely mine, where the notes of laughter from children playing mingle with the distant sound of a lawnmower and the sharp, rhythmic clang of a hammer against wood. Welcome to West Side, a vibrant tapestry woven from diverse threads—immigrants, artists, and families who, like me, call this place home.

As a budding musician, I often think of my community as an evolving song, each person contributing their unique melody. My street is a mix of cultures, with houses painted in a kaleidoscope of colors and adorned with murals that tell the stories of our histories. On one side of my block, there’s Mrs. Rodriguez, who sets up a taco stand on weekends, her laughter echoing as she shares recipes passed down through generations. On the other, the Yang family runs a small bakery, filling the air with the scent of fresh bao and sweet red bean paste.

But the heart of our community beats strongest at the local community center, where the walls vibrate with creativity and collaboration. It’s here that I found my place among other young artists, each of us drawn together by a shared passion for music and a desire to amplify our voices. We gather weekly for open mic nights, where the room buzzes with anticipation as we take turns sharing our songs. It’s a space where we can be ourselves—where I can strum my guitar, share my original songs, and speak out about the issues that matter to us.

Music has always been a refuge for me, a way to express the turmoil of my emotions and the complexities of my identity. As a child of immigrants, I often felt like I had to choose between two worlds: the traditions of my parents and the American culture surrounding me. In the community center, I discovered that I didn’t have to choose. I could blend the two, creating a unique sound that reflected both my heritage and my experiences growing up in the United States.

My song “Roots and Wings” emerged from this blend, telling the story of my parents’ journey while celebrating my own aspirations. The lyrics speak of their sacrifices and the hopes they pinned on me, layered with my own dreams of breaking through barriers and carving my path. When I performed it for the first time at our open mic night, the room erupted in applause. In that moment, I felt a surge of connection—my song resonated with others who shared similar stories of struggle and triumph.

Being part of this community has taught me the importance of listening and supporting one another. In a world that often tries to pigeonhole us, I’ve learned that we can find strength in our differences. During one of our sessions, a fellow musician shared her struggles with feeling invisible in a predominantly different culture. Inspired, I organized a collaborative performance, inviting artists from different backgrounds to share their stories through music. That night, the community center overflowed with voices from various backgrounds, blending together to create a powerful symphony of unity.

The West Side community is more than just a neighborhood; it’s a vibrant ecosystem of stories, experiences, and dreams. I am proud to be a part of this evolving song, using my voice to amplify those around me. As I prepare to embark on my journey at the University of Michigan, I carry with me the lessons I’ve learned: the power of community, the beauty of diversity, and the undeniable strength of a shared melody. I am excited to further explore how my music can intersect with social change, continuing to amplify voices that deserve to be heard.

In this symphony of life, I don’t just belong; I thrive.