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A new writing assignment has been posted.
Brown University
Tell us about a personal quality, talent, accomplishment, contribution or experience that is important to you. What about this quality or accomplishment makes you proud and how does it relate to the person you are?
Describe a place or environment where you are perfectly content. What do you do or experience there, and why is it meaningful to you?
James Bond never spies on fish. In fact, secret agents seem to be more concerned with bank robbers and megalomaniacs. Fish barely get a second look. And it’s a shame—risky, even. Fish are everywhere, from the Mariana Trench to living rooms. So with no one watching them, who knows what they do when we’re not around? For all we know, they could be plotting against us right now.
But that’s why I’m here. I’m a secret agent, and I spy on salmon.
It turns out that spying on salmon occurs in two parts: the “Early Morning,” and the “Rest of the Day.” I start every Early Morning by walking into an office. On the outside, this office is a grid of button-pushers in cookie-cutter cubicles. But it’s just a front. This office headquarters some of the best ichthyological thinkers in Sonoma County. Here, they debrief me on today’s mission, and I fill a mesh bag with headgear and grab my drysuit. Next, we climb into our spymobile (a 2005 Chevy pickup), shift into reverse, and speed away—at a safe 15 miles per hour, of course, so we can show off our shiny “Coho Recovery Program” decal and admire the stain on the truck’s stock stereo system.
Now it’s time for the Rest of the Day. This part is always different. Sometime it’s cold, and when we reach the stream with our target juvenile coho salmon, there’s a thin layer of leaves on the water, like the film on stove-heated hot chocolate. On these days I wear three jackets and sweatpants over my jeans, and the stream feels more like liquid ice than water. On other days it’s dry, and the coho, without a stream, get to hide in salmon heaven, where we can’t yet see them (not to worry, though: our headquarters is rumored to be developing some clairvoyant goggles).
But today the gravel is covered with five feet of lukewarm water, and I get to wriggle into the latex interior of my drysuit with only one set of clothes on. I glance at my field partner, Henning—a pot-bellied German man in a neon yellow-and-orange drysuit that matches the sharp yellow on the hard-plastic PDA he’s holding. So much for being sneaky. Then, grinning, I put on my mask and snorkel and slip into the stream. There’s a school of fish in the deepest section of the pool, so I scan my left and right—nothing there—and propel myself toward them. I hook onto a root and hover above the salmon, counting all of the coho (each a finger’s length, with a white-tipped anal fin and a black stripe over each of its eyes) and noting the speckled steelhead trout.
It’s like visiting a foreign country, I think. It’s the same thought I have in every pool. Each one has its own nooks, caverns, and substrate composition. And in each of these worlds, the fish have their own personalities. The pool I’m in is shaped like a crescent, with a small waterfall forming a concave wall. Rocks stick out over the falling water, forming a miniature precipice. The fish are baby-like, with big faces; they almost let me touch their noses. The only similar feelings this pool offers are its smell—which, because of the plastic mask that’s smothering my nose, smells like the toy aisle in a department store—and my paranoia about my dry suit leaking.
Then another coho darts past me, and I add it to my tally. That’s 45 salmon. I swim over to one more undercut bank and scan the remaining hemisphere of the pool. There are no more fish to count, so I plant my feet on the silt. To the fish, I’m probably Jaws, or some other giant henchman. To headquarters, though, I’m agent 007, risking life and limb for their salmon survey. Now I just have to hope my partner doesn’t turn on me.
Describe the world you come from — for example, your family, community or school — and tell us how your world has shaped your dreams and aspirations.
I know it seems childish to idolize a man in a beer commercial. But it’s not that I aspire to drink Dos Equis, it’s that I aspire to be interesting. My family, for one, finds interestingness in athletics. With them, being a shortstop was something you just did, and likewise always discussed. Unfortunately for people who don’t follow sports, this lifestyle doesn’t lend itself to good conversation. So to be interesting, I have to find time to imagine, scheme, and deduce.
Often, I try to utilize the breaks I get during sports. When my friends and I change before baseball games, for instance, I use this time to plot our next move in a school-wide game of tag.
“If we hide in her car...” I suggest, one cleat on.
“But we have to tag her before she leaves campus,” Nathan, a teammate, responds. Sitting, he slides on his blood-red, knee-high socks.
As he unfolds his baseball pants, Devin, another teammate, counters: “Eh.”
Nathan knots his cleats and presses on: “We’ve gotta try it. It’s our best option. We can hide under a blanket behind the passenger seat.”
“But if it works, who gets the tag?” I ask.
“Dibs!” Devin shouts, a little too loudly.
I shake my head, and shuffle the gear in my sports bag to find my grey, grass-stained cap.
Our coach, already fully dressed despite not playing, asks, “Is this that damn tag game again?”
“Maybe...”
“Well I don’t care. Now get your gloves and warm up.”
I have the most time to think, however, before and after sports, when I’m driving to and from school. The road, flanked with evergreens, isn’t difficult. It’s just boring. So my only issue is all the time I spend with my car’s outdated radio. Therefore, I often muse instead of listen to pop music. Here, my mind jumps between thoughts: how to improve the birthday gift I’m making my friend, a new way to look at a calculus puzzle I was stuck on, or even the idea for this essay. And the best part? I can always talk about it tomorrow.
UC Berkeley and UC Davis
Describe the world you come from — for example, your family, community or school — and tell us how your world has shaped your dreams and aspirations.
The piercing and unexpected sound of my phone playing Hakuna Matata wakes me up at precisely 4:00 A.M. As my feet swing over the side of my bed, I feel something wet on my toes that quickly brings me out of my transfixed early-morning state: urine. I have two options: remain in the cozy embrace of my warm bed, or blindly dash, hoping my feet don’t find themselves in something less sterile, to the light switch across the room. I choose the latter. As the switch clicks on, the shape of the small, innocent creature leaning on my dresser is revealed. Watching her awkward legs tremble as she slowly walks toward me, one would never imagine that this fragile animal would one day be a six-hundred pound, robust African Sable Antelope, with spiraling stately horns the length of my legs and a curving, devious smile. But until that day comes, I will continue to wake up for the 4:00 A.M. feeding, heat up a bottle of milk, and sit on the floor holding Apple, my little foster African antelope.
Growing up the daughter of a veterinarian, animals have been a part of my life since I can remember. Weekends were spent walking dogs or llamas around our local headlands, birthdays were spent at 4-H meetings, and sleepless nights rolled by one after another as I often went on midnight emergency calls with my mom. It seemed like every week our family would find ourselves taking care of, or relocating, another animal. From cats with chlamydia, litters of puppies, endangered African hoofstock, local pelicans, and diapered geese--it seemed as if every member of the animal kingdom has spent its fare share of time growing up in my bathroom.
Growing up in a unique home environment coincided with attending what one might call a non-traditional school in my small rural community. At the age of five, I was thrown into a school of twenty-six kids that, over the course of seven years, would strongly shape the person I have become. At the Caspar Creek Learning Center, we learned math by counting the trees, science by raising worms, English by keeping dream journals, and leadership by running a government, complete with pinecone currency and a gambling system in the forest behind our school. This is the school where I learned to embrace my individuality, and my natural love of science, that has stayed with me to this day, was fostered .
I look back to my sixth birthday as I sat in front of our fireplace anticipating the unveiling of what would become the most influential possession of my life. As I sat and unwrapped the fluorescent plastic red veterinarian toolbox a whole new world was revealed, one consisting of sutures on stuffed animals and pretend antibiotics injected into baby dolls. What has evolved since that eventful day, is a love of science, a determination to develop my skills to contribute to the betterment of my community, and a dream to practice medicine, whether it be human or animal.
Tell us about a personal quality, talent, accomplishment, contribution or experience that is important to you. What about this quality or accomplishment makes you proud and how does it relate to the person you are?”
The syringes in my pocket rattle together as I adjust my feet to avoid the yellow sludge of bodily fluids flowing around me. As I stand on the wet, potholed ground, I resemble a teenage astronaut. My attire of knee-high boots, arm-length gloves, and mask, all resemble the various aspects of a modern space suit. Instead of “Houston, we have a problem,” I jump to action when I hear the words, “Tessa, we have an organ.” Quickly, I must run back to our spacecraft, a 2004 Toyota Tundra, to grab supplies. While I maneuver my way back through the fields of Antelope, Zebra, and Giraffes, I feel as if I am being watched by a herd of Aliens. When I return, it is finally my chance. I get ready to help explore the mysterious body cavities of a recently deceased African Kudu Antelope, as excited as an astronaut exploring the moon for the very first time.
While in high school I have had the opportunity to intern at the B. Bryan Wildlife Preserve, an exotic animal sanctuary in Point Arena dedicated to the breeding and preservation of endangered African hoofstock. Not only have I been able to assist the veterinarians with procedures, training, and basic husbandry, but I have also had the opportunity to make meaningful and deep connections with the animals that reside there.
Every day at the Preserve starts with the vet and care staff gathering to discuss the day's goals. The agenda usually includes dart-gun sedating an animal to trim hoofs, sample blood, or perform a medical procedure. My day often starts at the giraffe barn, helping with feeding and maintenance. No matter how many times I see it, nothing can prepare me for the sight of twenty-foot tall beasts running to greet me. A few of the giraffe know me now and allow me to come close, run my hands over their awkward and massive bodies, practice targeting and other training routines, and listen to the slow, steady beat of their hearts.
When I am with the giraffes, I often forget that I’m in the small coastal town of Point Arena, and my mind is transported deep into the African Savannah to the natural habitat of these unique animals. At the right time of day, the stained glass in the barn behind me casts an orange light across the ground that resembles a beautiful African sunset. When I look past the giraffe barn, I can see the shy kudu peaking out from behind the bushes, the unpredictable zebra cavorting in the fields, and the antelope peacefully grazing. There is a serene calm here, a natural rhythm among the animals that evokes an inner peace in me. It is a combination of visual images, sounds, and smells that all contribute to my sense of well-being and my place in the world. Working to be sure these animals are present for future generations is something to work hard for. Being chosen to be an intern, to have exclusive access to these animals, and to be trusted to help care for them, is an accomplishment I am proud of.
UC Berkeley
Tell us about a personal quality, talent, accomplishment, contribution or experience that is important to you. What about this quality or accomplishment makes you proud, and how does it relate to the person you are?
I spent every Sunday of my childhood at the Headlands Coffee House, a cozy cafe in the small town of Fort Bragg, California, waiting for my dad to finish playing piano. Despite taking piano lessons since I was five, I couldn’t understand why he would become a professional jazz musician. While the frustration of trying to read one note after another seemed tedious and unnecessary to me, little did I realize that my dad’s profession would later hold an important place in my life. At the time, the pressure of my dad’s legacy pushed me to continue learning piano.
Although practice seemed mundane initially, music itself eventually became more interesting. I realized music was more than something imposed by my dad, and the redundant scales he nagged me to repeat gradually became useful. As I grew older, I recognized that fundamentals could be applied to the art of music. I discovered the benefit of knowing different key signatures and scales and how this made sight-reading as well as other musical challenges easier. My ease and comfort led me to become confident, opening doors to future performances. With my weekends filled with my dad driving me to recitals and competitions, there was never a moment when music wasn’t a part of our lives.
Suddenly, that music was silenced. In February of 2011, my dad was diagnosed with Leukemia. With my parents absent for up to a month at a time, there was a silence throughout my house. Originally I avoided the piano; all it did was remind me of my father’s absence. My surroundings morphed into something I hardly recognized, and there was an overwhelming sense of unfamiliarity. Although it took some time, eventually I realized that there was a way for my dad to stay close despite the physical distance - through music.
Music has continued to shape me, allowing me to grow as a person by expanding my opportunities and ambitions. It has enabled me to build confidence in my abilities, and remain resilient and patient through hardships. Most importantly, music has helped me build stronger relationships with others, keeping me connected me with my father. Music has reminded me that each note by itself doesn’t mean much, but put notes together combine to produce a whole piece. Music has shown me that things, no matter how unrelated, can come together to show the larger picture. I apply this to my life all the time, throughout my studies, volunteer experiences, and future pursuits.
UC Freshman Prompt: the world you come from — for example, your family, community or school — and tell us how your world has shaped your dreams and aspirations.
The world in which I come from will always be the foundation of my personality. Spending my entire life in a town as unique as Mendocino, California, has influenced my perspective on the rest of the world in a way that has strengthened my methods of accomplishing my goals. Living amongst a population of about 1,000, and attending a school with less than 200 students, has instilled in me the creativity to in vision plans for positive change throughout my community and others, as well as the aptitude to follow through. And most importantly, living in Mendocino has allowed me to contrast my upbringing to those less fortunate, and develop my awareness of issues in this ever-changing world.
One valuable experience was traveling to Brazil last summer to see family. Although I have been there in my youth, this time I sought to participate in some significant volunteer work at Mario Penna Institute, a hospital located in Minas Gerais, one of the most impoverished central states of Brazil. There, I changed sheets, emptied bedpans, washed laundry, and aided recovering patients. Seeing this magnitude of poverty in such close proximity was shocking to me and extremely contrasted with everything I was accustomed to at home in my sheltered and safe town. This inspired me to participate in a pending project that provides mammograms to women who cannot afford them through means of mobile prevention. Volunteering was one experience, but I aspired to do more. Upon returning home, I introduced this project to my Interact Club, where its members graciously helped fundraise.
The familiarity and closeness of existing in such a minuscule community is something that allows my multitude of goals to become tangible. Community involvement is so embedded in the essence of the population, that it has fueled my ambition to surpass any arbitrary boundary of accomplishing objectives. My involvement in a local internship developing gardens in nearby communities highlights this relationship. Even with the dense fog chilling the air, numerous community members would voluntarily come to help. Countless hours harvesting fruits and vegetables, weeding, and fertilizing, were spent with a brilliance illuminating from my small but dedicated and capable community members. These activities reflect the daily life and attitude of the people of Mendocino, who have enlightened, encouraged, and supported me to reach out and extend my assistance to other communities.
The world in which I come from has undeniably transformed my perception of what can be attempted, and furthermore, accomplished. The contrast of community involvement throughout my life enables me to accept less than ideal circumstances, and adapt to them. Moreover, by growing up in a town with virtually one stop light while also being exposed to dense urbanization and poverty has enabled me to empathize and identify with an evolving world, where positive change is imperative and feasible.
UC Berkeley
Describe the world you come from — for example, your family, community or school — and tell us how your world has shaped your dreams and aspirations.
Sometimes in my dreams I think I’m in a somber place, in a dark train station. It is freezing. The noise is deafening: the screech of the metal brakes, the unintelligible blaring of a loudspeaker and voices chattering in an inscrutable language. It smells like oil, garlic, and sweat. My stomach is snarling, my toes are frozen and I’m wrapped up so tightly I’m unable to move. I can do nothing. I am only three days old.
Every year thousands of Chinese children are abandoned as a result of China’s one-child policy, which minimizes the number of children per household to diminish the population. I was abandoned in a Chinese train station, a newborn with my umbilical cord still attached. I was taken to an orphanage in Chengdu, Sichuan where I lived for six months. Fortuitously, I was then placed into the benevolent arms of a white woman who spoke to me in a foreign language. I was taken to an unfamiliar land I later learned was called the land of the free. The drive home smelled of clean air and salt. To the right of me were towering leafy giants, and to the left was an endless pool of undulating water. A sign read, “Welcome to Mendocino.”
Mendocino, located three hours north of San Francisco, is marked by the ocean’s edge and massive redwoods. Although our town is minimally racially diverse, including a mere 2% Asian population, it is extremely accepting of everyone. Mendocino has a particular tolerance for myriad racial, religious, ethnic, gender, political and appearance differences. My closest three friends are Jewish, Caucasian, and African American and we never treat each other differently despite our diversity. It is in this unique community that I flourished to my full 4’11” stature and my intense quest for knowledge. My height has not hindered my capability and performance in sports, as I am a starting varsity volleyball and basketball player from freshman to senior years. Neither has my gender nor ethnicity obstructed my academic ability, as I have attained exceptionally high academic marks.
Although I had no voice in where I ultimately was raised, the opportunities and support available for me in Mendocino are markedly different than what I would have experienced as an orphan in China. My childhood dreams of becoming a doctor are enthusiastically supported by my friends, family and community. From an early age, I was taught to help others and accept everyone for who they are. In April 2015, I was able to pursue my dream while testing my acceptance of others as a volunteer for the nonprofit organization Love Without Boundaries. With a team of pediatric plastic surgeons, I traveled to a children’s hospital in China where 33 surgeries were performed on babies with cleft defects. This experience bolstered my desire to become a doctor and help less fortunate children who lived in orphanages as I did. I observed eight corrective surgeries and played with the most beautiful children I’ve ever seen. We did not need to speak the same language to feel an immediate connection, as if the children were my long lost siblings. My adoption gave me an opportunity I would never have had in a Chinese orphanage. My trip to China spread opportunity to many orphans struggling with a physical defect. With the opportunities before me to study medicine, I know that when I become a doctor, I will use my knowledge and training to spread opportunity to others in need.
UC Prompt #2
Billy’s endearing smile ironically resembled the nefarious Joker from Batman because of the mouth deformity that began near his ears and proceeded down to his chin. His upper jaw protruded much farther than his lower jaw, allowing his saliva to fall on his food and clothing. When walking through the streets Billy had to wear a mask because bystanders ridiculed him, and his six-year-old feelings were crushed when someone flinched at his appearance. However, Billy was given one of the most precious things an abandoned child could ever receive—an opportunity.
Billy is the most jovial, intelligent young boy I’ve ever met. He and 32 other young children with facial deformities were given an opportunity most of us take for granted: the attainment of a normal life. My aspiration to become a pediatrician prompted me to join the nonprofit organization Love Without Boundaries (LWB) for its humanitarian Cleft Surgery Exchange in Kaifeng, China. In April 2015, I travelled with LWB’s pediatric plastic surgeons and surgical nurses to the Children’s Hospital in Kaifeng. I observed eight life-changing surgeries. As the skilled surgeons transformed and reconstructed each child’s face, I watched each stitch and cut augment the child’s opportunity for a normal lifestyle.
Billy touched my heart deeply, and confirmed my love for helping people. His strength of character and tenacity has inspired me to become a doctor and help the sick. On the recovery ward, interacting with the children gave me a new awareness of the opportunity I gained, because I was once like Billy and his friends. The freedom I was given by my American adoption has afforded me endless opportunities including the ability to attend college, learn the skills of a physician, and then spread opportunity to others. While standing in the operating room observing the surgeries, I was able to visualize myself as the main surgeon opening my hand and asking the nurse to pass me the scalpel. I’m excited about participating in more hands-on medical experiences and learning from the many skilled physicians under whom I plan to study.
Something, whether a God, the force of nature, or sheer happenstance, decided my place was in Mendocino, California and not China. In America, I was raised in a home with very encouraging parents who gave me a proper education and every opportunity. My innate determination for success in life and my experience with LWB has inspired me to use this opportunity and “pay it forward” to more children like my dear friend Billy.
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