# 作者:Marina #
高中: 公立高中, 50毕业生 
民族: 西语裔 
性别: 女性 
GPA: 4.98 out of 5.0 
SAT / ACT: 35 
SAT2: Mathematics Level 2, Physics 
课外活动: Research, founding science fair mentoring director, founding Editor-in-Chief of student newspaper, beach volleyball, fundraising artist 
获奖: Intel International Science and Engineering Fair Finalist, US Public Health Surgeon General's Special Science Award, National Hispanic Scholar, Jack Kent Cooke Semifinalist, Wayne Hanson Excellence in Science or Engineering Award 
专业: Math
My father said I didn’t cry when I was born. Instead, I popped out of the womb with a furrowed brow, looking up at him almost accusatorially, as if to say “Who are you? What am I doing here?” While I can’t speak to the biological accuracy of his story — How did I survive, then? How did I bring air into my lungs? — it’s certainly true that I feel like I came preprogrammed with the compulsion to ask questions.
I received my first journal in preschool, probably because my parents were sick of cleaning my crayon drawings off my bedroom wall. Growing up, my notebooks became the places where I explored ideas through actions in addition to words. If the face I was sketching looked broody, I began to wonder what in her life made her that way. Was she a spy? Did she just come in from the cold? Graduating from crayons to markers to colored pencils, I layered color upon color, testing out the effects of different combinations, wondering why the layering of notes in music filled me with the very same happiness as the sight of the explosion of paired colors beneath my hands.
I began to take notes, on anything and everything. Reading Steve Martin’s Born Standing Up, I took away lessons on presentations, of maintaining a rhythm and allowing crescendos of energy to release every so often. While watching a documentary on people preparing for a sommelier exam, I made note of the importance of an enriching environment where most everything points you to your goals. Flipping through my old journal, I see that even an article about trouble in the South China Sea inspired notes on precedent and maintaining tradition lest you provoke the unknown. I was looking for the rules of the world.
More than just a place to catalogue my observations about the world, my notebooks are places to synthesize, to course-correct, to pinpoint areas for iterative improvement. When the words are down on paper, I see my patterns of thought and the holes in my logic stark against the white page. If I have a day of insecurity that leads to a sudden rush of journaling characteristic of that in a teen movie, looking down at the angsty scribbles, I'll recognize my repeated thoughts and actions and look for pressure points in that system of behavior where I can improve.
Now my 2016 notebook returns to exploring the world through actions and experiments. Dozens of doughnut-shaped sketches dot pages that ask “how would you play tic-tac-toe on a torus?” Another page containing bubble letters answers the simpler question of the result of sorting these figures into groups of topological equivalences. Not two pages later are the results of a research binge on Mersenne primes that took me through perfect numbers and somehow deposited me at a Wikipedia page detailing the mathematical properties of the number 127. Once again, I look for the rules of the world.
Whenever I feel discouraged, I look to my stack of notebooks, shelved neatly by my desk. In those pages I’ve learned that I have room to fail and grow, to literally turn over a new leaf if a problem is particularly tricky. Through years of scribbling away, I’ve learned that the most fundamental part of my development has been giving myself the space to try: to sketch mangled faces, to draw the wrong conclusions, to answer a question incorrectly, and to learn from my mistakes without shame. I look to that mass of notebooks filled with my ideas, my mistakes, and my questions, and I'm reminded that I’ve grown before, and that I’ll grow again, all the while asking questions.
玛丽娜(Marina)以一篇积极的,扎实的笔记结束了她的文章,使作文的内容更进一步显示了她成长的心态。她的结束语回到 “提问” 一词,展示了一幅完整的图像,强调了文章的主题。




# 作者:Christopher #
原籍: 美国费城
高中: 私立高中, 84毕业生
民族: 混血(多种族)
性别: 男性
GPA: n/a
SAT / ACT: n/a
SAT2: U.S. History, World History
课外活动:Cross country / indoor track / outdoor track captain, newspaper editor in chief, literary magazine editor, Monday Series — speaking series and publication founder and editor, Student Religious Life Committee chair, Student Council, Obama 2012 campaign organizer
获奖: Award as top community organizer in country for the Obama 2012 campaign; State champion in the cross country, 4 years in a row
专业: History and Literature
When I broke the news to my volunteer team, we were in a church basement, cleaning up after the final event of the summer. I tried to downplay it. I nudged Ms. Diana, the neighborhood leader, in the shoulder, and said, "Guess what I'll be doing next Wednesday — having lunch with the president." Her face blazed with a kilowatt smile. Before I could slow her down, she shouted, "Christopher's meeting President Obama next week."
Eldred dropped his broom, Ms. Sheila left the cups scattered on the floor, and all the others came running over and fusilladed me with questions. Yes, the campaign had chosen me from all the other summer organizers. Yes, I would bring photos for everyone. And yes, we had the strongest team by the numbers — total calls, knocks, voters registered, and events — in the country.
I felt guilty that only I could go and told them so. "I wish that I could bring you all with me. You made nearly all of the calls, brought your friends and family along, and made this what it is. I've just been here to facilitate." The others good-naturedly shouted me down. Then Ms. Melva spoke up. Her words were pressed out against the heaving of her respirator. "Christopher, don't feel bad. You'll bring us wherever you go in your pocket. Just pull us out when you meet Barack."
For a long time, I was perplexed by her advice. Then I thought back to the exercise that we employed before any volunteer activity. We sat in a circle and gave our reasons for being in the room, willing to work with the campaign. That way, when it came time to make our "hard ask" on the phones, we would be supported by personal conviction and shared purpose. The "hard ask" is the Obama campaign's tactic for garnering support or a commitment to volunteer, moving from values to idealism to specific action.
In my work on the campaign, I am reminded of my cross-country coach, Rob. Before every single race, from petty league meets to national championships, Rob taps the spot on his thigh where a pocket would be. We look at our teammates who are lining up with us and tap the same spot. Coach Rob is reminding us, and we're reminding each other, that we carry "the bastard" in our pockets with us throughout the race.
"The bastard in your pocket" is a metaphor for the sum of our efforts to succeed as runners. "The bastard" exists as a sort of Platonic ideal form of the high school cross-country runner, melded from accrued mileage and mental conditioning. My goal in a race is to take this ideal form and to transform it into a reality that lives on the course.
I want an education that fills my pockets. And, perhaps more importantly, an education that prompts hard asks, that demands us to use "the bastard" and that uses the compounded experiences of a group for a single purpose.
移民政策好 英语门槛低

项目周期短 省时省学费
# 作者:Laura #
原籍: 美国加州 
高中: 公立高中, 400毕业生 
民族: 亚裔 
性别: 女性 
GPA: 4.8 out of 4.0 
SAT / ACT: Reading 740, Math 800, Writing 800 
SAT2: Mathematics Level 2, U.S. History 
课外活动:Nonprofit Regional Director, U.S. Senate Page Program, Conference Founder and Director, Chair of local Junior Commission, Math Program Coach
获奖: Hearst Foundation Scholarship Recipient, Coca-Cola Scholars Program 
专业: Political Science / Economics
I’m a bit of a grandma. I don't wear horn rimmed spectacles, nor perch on a rocking chair, and I certainly wish I carried hard candies in my backpack. However, I do enjoy baking: butter sizzling as it glides across heated metal like a canoe across a glassy lake; powdered sugar fluttering through the air like glitter from a confetti cannon. Some consider themselves math, literature, or history nerds. I rifle through cookbooks, browse the internet for ingenious new recipes, and revel in this year’s birthday gift: a copy of “Bread Illustrated.”
My greatest achievement in elementary school was not the perfect score on a spelling test, but the first time I mastered a batch of cookies that didn’t bear a rigidity comparable to steel. To my parents’ bewilderment, I dismissed Barbies, yo-yo’s, and jump ropes in favor of a wire whisk: It was love at first sight.
Why do I bake? Sometimes it’s to thank a friend or reconnect with former colleagues, employers, and teachers. Just as often, it’s the intricate processes involved. Creating the exacting liaison between eggs and flour to create a pâte à choux is, for me, a form of meditation. And sometimes I bake to reflect and even gain insight into my other interests.
Baking pastries for my next Junior Commission meeting, I ruminated on my interviews with officers and local homeless regarding their direct experiences with human trafficking in my own community. I recalled a police detective telling me, “For a youth isolated from family and friends, it doesn’t take much to accept the exploitation because he believes trafficking is his only chance of survival. I remember thinking, “Except that your body has to be sold like a box of cereal at Safeway?” This inspired my exhibit that was presented at high schools in my county, in which a figure, made up of barcodes, stands silhouetted against a black background.
Then there was the time my political interests literally gave me food for thought. As a Senate page, I welcomed Senators and staff back from their Independence Day recess with choux à la crème, that perfect French amalgam of wheat, egg, butter and air we call cream puffs. I had cherry-picked the ingredients from a local farmer’s market, because local and organic is more than just a trend for me; it means contributing to the reduction of food miles and supporting small businesses rather than Big Agra. Ironically, activists that day chose to protest an aggressively lobbied pro-GMO bill by showering the Senate floor with dollar bills. Senators and staff brushed them off of their jackets while gingerly stepping around them to navigate the room.
But the elephant in the room wasn’t the litter of currency, but the senators who paid more attention to corporate lobbyists than the protesters exposing their corruption. It deepened my perspective on how politics intersects our lives, farm to table. Yet, I’ve realized that when I feel empowered to advocate for a cause, I need to remember how the audience — legislators, for example — might view both my side and the opposing side. Sometimes they see us both as intruding groups. Other times, there are unseen advantages to acting in agreement with one side over the other or coming to a compromise.
If, as M.F.K Fisher said, “First we eat, then we do everything else,” then baking is an avenue through which I have connected with people, causes and even intellectual pursuits. But the greatest gift that baking offers me is the responsibility to share. With this, I have realized an innate priority: to turn my talents, whether in the kitchen or an advocacy meeting, into tools to improve the welfare of others. My goal is to employ my compassion, intellect, and creativity into a career in public service. As much as I sometimes feel like a grandma, I also know a lot of grandmothers who happen to run our political system.
写作烘焙是 “了解我的其他兴趣” 的一种方式,是充实她的其他兴趣的元件——如果写砸了,就会被看成是虚假的,但在本文中却是自然而然的。劳拉在烘烤中看到了自己社区中的不幸者,她展示而不是告诉人们她如何将烘烤作为一种思考方式。最后,她将对烘焙的热情与更广阔的世界联系在一起,强调了对烘焙的热情如何统一了她的思维方式。





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