2022年哈佛大學9篇文書最新發(fā)布，開拓新思路,！

文書是和招生官的第一次見面,，所以其重要性不言而喻。哈佛大學每年都公布10篇新生文書,，給未來申請者提供參考,，今年剛剛公布了9篇文書，希望能給大家一些新思路,。

一、Michelle C.'s Essay

Successful Harvard Essay

“You should scrub off the top layer of your skin whenever you lose a round,” my debate teammate once advised me.

“That’s not practical,” I replied.

“Neither is your refusal to wear clothes you’ve lost important debate rounds in. Your wardrobe has very little to do with your success.”

Half of me disagrees with him. I still bring three BIC Round Stic pencils with 0.7 lead to every test because my gut tells me this fastidious procedure raises my scores. I’m still convinced that labs receive better grades if written in Calibri. And I still won’t rewear clothes in which I’ve lost crucial rounds.

Yet the other half of me is equally dismissive of my own superstitions. I love logic, never failing to check that steps in a proof lead to a precise conclusion without gaps in reasoning.

Fortunately, I often abandon my penchant for pragmatism to accommodate for my unwarranted superstitions. And since I only feel the need to act logicalcally in selective situations, I am perfectly content with the illogical nature of my other habits:

Raised with my great-grandmother, grandparents, and parents all under one roof, I never lacked a consultant to help me transcribe Korean holiday dates from the lunar calendar onto my schedule. Yet whenever all four generations of my family celebrates with a traditional meal of bulgogi, my untraceable and admittedly nonexistent Italian blood flares in protest; I rebelliously cook myself linguine con le vongole that clashes terribly with my mom’s pungent kimchi.

If I plot a graph of “hours I spend in physical activity” versus “week of the year,” the result looks like an irregular cardiac cycle. The upsurges symbolize my battles with colossal walls of water in hopes of catching a smooth surf back to Mission Bay shore. The ensuing period of rest mirrors the hours I spend researching in that one spot in my debate team’s war room that isn’t covered in papers (yet), or at the piano sight-reading the newest Adele song. Then the diastolic tranquility is interrupted by the weekends when I’m sprinting through trenches to avoid paintballs swarming above my favorite arena at Paintball USA.

I find comfort in the familiar. I treasure the regular midnight chats with my brother as we indulge in batter while baking cupcakes for a friend’s birthday, keeping our voices hushed to avoid waking our mom and facing her “salmonella is in your near future” lecture. Yet, some of my fondest memories involve talking to people with whom I share nothing in common. Whether my conversations are about the Qatari coach’s research on Kuwait’s female voting patterns, or about the infinite differences between the “common app” and the Oxford interviewing process, or even about my friend’s Swedish school’s peculiar policy of mandating uniforms only on Wednesdays, I love comparing cultures with debaters from different countries.

My behavior is unpredictable. Yet it’s predictably unpredictable. Sure, I’ll never eat a Korean dinner like one might expect. But I’ll always be cooking linguine the moment I catch a whiff of kimchi.

二,、Eda's Essay

Successful Harvard Essay: Homeless for Thirteen Years

I sat on my parents’ bed weeping with my head resting on my knees. “Why did you have to do that to me? Why did you have to show me the house and then take it away from me?” Hopelessly, I found myself praying to God realizing it was my last resort.

For years, my family and I found ourselves moving from country to country in hopes of a better future. Factors, such as war and lack of academic opportunities, led my parents to pack their bags and embark on a new journey for our family around the world. Our arduous journey first began in Ku?ov?, Albania, then Athens, Greece, and then eventually, Boston, Massachusetts. Throughout those years, although my family always had a roof over our heads, I never had a place I could call “home.”

That night that I prayed to God, my mind raced back to the night I was clicking the delete button on my e-mails, but suddenly stopped when I came upon a listing of the house. It was September 22. 2007 —eight years exactly to the day that my family and I had moved to the United States. Instantly, I knew that it was fate that was bringing this house to me. I remembered visiting that yellow house the next day with my parents and falling in love with it. However, I also remembered the heartbreaking phone call I received later on that week saying that the owners had chosen another family’s offer.

A week after I had prayed to God, I had given up any hopes of my family buying the house. One day after school, I unlocked the door to our one-bedroom apartment and walked over to the telephone only to see it flashing a red light. I clicked PLAY and unexpectedly heard the voice of our real estate agent. “Eda!” she said joyfully. “The deal fell through with the other family—the house is yours! Call me back immediately to get started on the papers.” For a moment, I stood agape and kept replaying the words in my head. Was this really happening to me? Was my dream of owning a home finally coming true?

Over the month of November, I spent my days going to school and immediately rushing home to make phone calls. Although my parents were not fluent enough in English to communicate with the bank and real estate agent, I knew that I was not going to allow this obstacle to hinder my dream of helping to purchase a home for my family. Thus, unlike a typical thirteen-year-old girl’s conversations, my phone calls did not involve the mention of makeup, shoes, or boys. Instead, my conversations were composed of terms, such as “fixed-rate mortgages,” “preapprovals,” and “down payments.” Nevertheless, I was determined to help purchase this home after thirteen years of feeling embarrassed from living in a one-bedroom apartment. No longer was I going to experience feelings of humiliation from not being able to host sleepovers with my friends or from not being able to gossip with girls in school about who had the prettiest room color.

I had been homeless for the first thirteen years of my life. Although I will never be able to fully repay my parents for all of their sacrifices, the least I could do was to help find them a home that they could call their own—and that year, I did. To me, a home means more than the general conception of “four walls and a roof.” A home is a place filled with memories and laughter from my family. No matter where my future may lead me, I know that if at times I feel alone, I will always have a yellow home with my family inside waiting for me.

專家點評

誠實的,、令人心碎、強大的,。

這是閱讀 Eda 的文章后首先想到的三個詞,。

我們喜歡 Eda 的文章的地方在于它令人耳目一新的脆弱性,。太多的申請文書“太”完美了。Eda 不會審查真相,，即使承認她的內(nèi)心想法可能會給她帶來負面的印象,。例如，她以她在父母床上哭泣的場景開始整篇文章,，并將自己的不幸歸咎于他們,。通過如此誠實的描述，Eda 展示了她隨著時間的推移而真正地成長和成熟,。

在整篇文章中,，她的個人聲音也很強烈。當她談到愛上“那棟黃色的房子”時,，我們腦海中會自動浮現(xiàn)出這棟房子的形象,。當她談到得知“那棟黃色房子”被賣給另一個家庭時所經(jīng)歷的心碎時，我們也感到心痛,。她故意選擇“播放”她為我們收到的語音郵件并包括她隨后的內(nèi)心想法,，這進一步促使我們與她一起重溫她的旅程。

然而,，她不僅僅是告訴我們她的旅程,。她強調(diào)了她的旅程是多么不尋常。她沒有享受關于化妝品或鞋子的電話交談,，而是與經(jīng)紀人談論固定利率抵押貸款和首付……所有這些都是在 13 歲時,。雖然她沒有明確說明這一點(她不需要這樣做)：很明顯Eda 不得不快速成長，成為一個更強大的人,。

她對“家”這個詞的理解從她頭頂?shù)奈锢砦蓓斞葑優(yōu)楦橄蟮奈蓓?。家就是她的“回憶和歡笑”所在的地方。最后,，她接受了父母做出的犧牲,。學會為自己的成長感到自豪展示了 Eda 的成長歷程。

Eda 是一個能夠克服任何挑戰(zhàn)的人,，使她成為一名強大的大學申請者,。

三,、Yukta's Essay

Successful Harvard Essay: Yukta

Garishly lined with a pearlescent lavender, my eyes idly scanned the haphazard desk in front of me, settling on a small kohl. I packed the ebony powder into my waterline with a shaky hand, wincing at the fine specks making their way into my eyes.

The girl in the mirror seemed sharper, older, somehow. At only 12. I was relatively new to the powders and blushes that lined my birthday makeup kit, but I was determined to decipher the deep splashes of color that had for so long been an enigma to me.

After school involved self-inflicted solitary confinement, as I shut myself in my bedroom to hone my skills. The palette’s colors bore in, the breadth of my imagination interwoven into now-brittle brushes. Much to my chagrin, my mom walked in one day, amused at my smudged lipstick, which congealed on the wispy hairs that lined my upper lip.

“Halloween already?” she asked playfully.

I flushed in embarrassment as she got to work, smoothing my skin with a brush and filling the gaps in my squiggly liner. Becoming a makeup aficionado was going to take some help.

“What’s this even made of?” I asked, transfixed by the bright powder she was smattering on my cheeks.

“You know, I’m not sure,” she murmured. “Maybe you should find out.”

I did.

Hours down the internet rabbit hole, I learned that the shimmery powder was made of mica, a mineral commonly used in cosmetics. While the substance was dazzling, its production process was steeped in humanitarian violations and environmental damage. Determined to reconcile my burgeoning love for makeup with my core values, I flung the kit into the corner of my drawer, vowing to find a more sustainable alternative. Yes, I was every bit as dramatic as you imagine it.

Now 17. I approach ethical makeup with assured deliberation. As I glance at my dusty kit, which still sits where I left it, I harken back on the journey it has taken me on. Without the reckoning that it spurred, makeup would still simply be a tool of physical transformation, rather than a catalyst of personal growth.

Now, each swipe of eyeliner is a stroke of my pen across paper as I write a children’s book about conscious consumerism. My flitting fingers programmatically place sparkles, mattes, and tints across my face in the same way that they feverishly move across a keyboard, watching algorithms and graphs integrate into models of supply chain transparency. Makeup has taught me to be unflinching, both in self expression and my expectations for the future. I coat my lips with a bold sheen, preparing them to form words of unequivocal urgency at global conferences and casual discussions. I see my passion take flight, emboldening others to approach their own reckonings, uncomfortable as they may be. I embark on a two-year journey of not buying new clothes in a statement against mass consumption and rally youth into a unified organization. We stand together, picking at the gritty knots of makeup, corporate accountability, and sustainability as they slowly unravel.

I’m not sure why makeup transfixes me. Perhaps it’s because I enjoy seeing my reveries take shape. Yukta, the wannabe Wicked Witch of the West, has lids coated with emerald luster and lips of coal. Yukta, the Indian classical dancer, wields thick eyeliner and bright crimson lipstick that allow her expressions to be amplified across a stage. Deep rooted journeys of triumph and tribulation are plastered across the surface of my skin — this paradox excites me.

Perhaps I am also drawn to makeup because as I peel back the layers, I am still wholly me. I am still the young girl staring wide-eyed at her reflection, earnestly questioning in an attempt to learn more about the world. Most importantly, I still carry an unflagging vigor to coalesce creativity and activism into palpable change, one brushstroke at a time.

專家點評

這位學生使用與化妝品一樣常見的家居用品來構建一個既普遍又獨特的故事,。這對象反映了她個人和文化身份的各個方面，使讀者可以直接感受到學生的個性,。她通過她對她周圍世界的調(diào)查,，帶領我們踏上了一次全面的旅程，并在不忽視文章主題的情況下開始了一個成年故事,。該學生在成功的個人陳述不可或缺的敘述和創(chuàng)意寫作元素之間取得平衡,。作者通過化妝作為自我反省和發(fā)現(xiàn)的媒介,，讓我們瞥見了她多年來的個人發(fā)展。她巧妙地利用她的化妝系列的顏色和元素來制作生動的描述,，將圖像作為本文方法和成功的基石,。她提出了一個很容易與消費主義和膚淺聯(lián)系在一起的目標，并用它來支持她所倡導的社會和道德斗爭,。

我們也看到這篇文章的作者有一個明確的聲音,。雖然許多學生都在努力克服通過裝飾來提升寫作水平，但這位作者卻能夠運用一種充滿活力的寫作風格,，仍然能引人入勝,、有節(jié)奏和有條理。通過這篇文章的每一刻,，我們了解到作者關心的是什么：有意識的消費主義,、創(chuàng)造力和行動主義;我們還了解了她是如何思考的：好奇、無私,、帶有女權主義色彩,。這篇文章的開頭句子采用了成功的個人陳述寫作策略，豐富的形容詞詳細描述了一個小場景,，然后擴大到對作者和她在社會中的地位做出更大的評論,。最后，學生的論文補充了她更大的招生檔案,，讓讀者在其中了解了Ta多年的倡導,、可持續(xù)實踐、以及對其社區(qū)產(chǎn)生積極影響的意圖,。

四,、Taras' Essay

Successful Harvard Essay: More Boluses to Dissect

Finally, I had found a volunteer opportunity at the Long Marine Lab, a marine biology research facility at UC Santa Cruz! I envisioned swimming with dolphins, or perhaps studying behavioral patterns of decorator crabs. But when I discovered the nature of my work on the first day of volunteering, my excitement turned to disappointment: I’d be picking through albatross boluses, the indigestible materials they cough up before going to sea. Sure enough, after three hours of separating fishing line from brown muck, I began to dread what I was in for. At that point, I had no clue of just how interesting the opportunity would turn out to be, and it would remind me of how easily I become engrossed and fascinated by all sorts of random stuff.

It didn’t take long for my boredom with the boluses to shift toward curiosity. In the first place, the project itself was fascinating. The idea was to research the behavior and diet of albatrosses at sea. These birds can fly for months without touching land! When the birds have chicks, they cough up whatever they’ve eaten at sea to feed their young. When the chicks become old enough to fly, they cough up the hard, indigestible materials left in their stomachs. These boluses contain squid beaks that can reveal the types of squid eaten and the area where the squid were caught. We volunteers would pick through the boluses, separating out anything that looked interesting.

As I got better at dissecting these blobs, I started finding crazy stuff, and my colleagues and I would often discuss important findings. There was, of course, the search for the biggest squid beak, and the fish eyes were always interesting. But most shocking was the plastic. Beyond the normal Styrofoam and fishing line were plastic bottle caps, lighters, even toothbrushes. Occasionally, Asian writing revealed distant origins. Once, I picked through a bolus permeated with orange goo, eventually to discover the round mouthpiece of a balloon. The origins of these artifacts were sad, but also fascinating. I learned of the Texas-sized trash heap in the middle of the Pacific, the effects of which I was witnessing firsthand. I gained a heightened awareness of the damage inflicted on the oceans by humans, and their far-reaching impacts. Perhaps most importantly, I realized that even the most tedious things can blow my mind.

If dissecting boluses can be so interesting, imagine the things I’ve yet to discover! I play piano and can see myself dedicating my life to the instrument, but I can’t bear to think of everything else I’d have to miss. I’d love to study albatrosses, but also particle physics or history, and preferably all three. At this point in my life, I can’t imagine picking just one area. At the same time, though, I love studying subjects in depth. I tend to get overwhelmed by my options, since I can’t possibly choose them all. But at least I know I’ll never be bored in life: there are just too many subjects to learn about, books to read, pieces to play, albatrosses to save, and boluses to dissect.

專家點評

這篇文章第一段的區(qū)別在于情感上的誠實：Taras承認“興奮變成了失望”，以及他“不知道”機會會如何發(fā)展,。很多時候,，申請者沒有意識到招生官只是閱讀文書的普通人——他們也會經(jīng)歷一系列情緒，比如失望和困惑,。雖然許多申請者寫的文章充滿細節(jié)和最高級,，但情感上的誠實是一篇優(yōu)秀論文的關鍵組成部分。

此外,，在一個簡單但重要的層面上,，他在第一句話中就提到了他的研究是在 Long Marine Lab 的志愿者機會。太多的申請者試圖讓讀者保持懸念,，而事實上,，為體驗提供背景總是更好。招生官不想讓他們覺得他們正在破譯看似平凡的人、事,、時,、地。沒有人有時間破解一篇文章,。

接下來,，Taras通過分享他的工作的有趣細節(jié)，例如了解丸劑,，成功地清楚地展示了他對研究的真誠熱情,。無論是寫鳥類、模擬聯(lián)合國還是任何其他可能的主題,，細節(jié)都是幫助申請人向招生委員會展示智力活力的關鍵,。

雖然一篇充滿活力的文章因其獨特的主題而吸引了讀者的注意力，但有些方面還可以改進,。例如,，感嘆號對許多讀者來說可能是一種人為的熱情，會使一篇文章失去一些禮儀,。此外,，在最后一段中，Taras 提到了粒子物理學和歷史作為可能的興趣,，這與論文不符(并且可能會損害入學機會最終“塑造”即將到來的課程),。

五、Michelle G.'s Essay

Successful Harvard Essay

Red, orange, purple, gold...I was caught in a riot of shifting colors. I pranced up and down the hill, my palms extended to the moving collage of butterflies that surrounded me. “Would you like to learn how to catch one?” Grandfather asked, holding out a glass jar. “Yes!” I cheered, his huge calloused fingers closing my chubby five-year-old hands around it carefully.

Grandfather put his finger to his lips, and I obliged as I watched him deftly maneuver his net. He caught one marvelous butterfly perched on a flower, and I clutched the open jar in anticipation as he slid the butterfly inside. It quivered and fell to the bottom of the jar, and I gasped. It struggled until its wings, ablaze in a glory of orange and red, quivered to a stop. I watched, wide-eyed, as it stopped moving. “Grandpa! What’s happening?”

My grandfather had always had a collection of butterflies, but that was the first time I saw him catch one. After witnessing the first butterfly die, I begged him to keep them alive; I even secretly let some of them go. Therefore, to compromise, he began carrying a special jar for the days I accompanied him on his outings, a jar to keep the living butterflies. But the creatures we caught always weakened and died after a few days in captivity, no matter how tenderly I fed and cared for them. Grandfather took me aside and explained that the lifespan of an adult butterfly was very short. They were not meant to live forever: their purpose was to flame brilliantly and then fade away. Thus, his art serves as a memory of their beauty, an acknowledgement of nature’s ephemeral splendor.

But nothing could stay the same. I moved to America and as the weekly excursions to the mountainside ended, so did our lessons in nature and science. Although six thousand miles away, I would never forget how my grandpa’s wrinkles creased when he smiled or how he always smelled like mountain flowers.

As I grew older and slowly understood how Grandfather lived his life, I began to follow in his footsteps. He protected nature’s beauty from decay with his art, and in the same way, I tried to protect my relationships, my artwork, and my memories. I surrounded myself with the journals we wrote together, but this time I recorded my own accomplishments, hoping to one day show him what I had done. I recorded everything, from the first time I spent a week away from home to the time I received a gold medal at the top of the podium at the California Tae Kwon Do Competition. I filled my new home in America with the photographs from my childhood and began to create art of my own. Instead of catching butterflies like my grandpa, I began experimenting with butterfly wing art as my way of preserving nature’s beauty. Soon my home in America became a replica of my home in China, filled from wall to wall with pictures and memories.

Nine long years passed before I was reunited with him. The robust man who once chased me up the hillside had developed arthritis, and his thick black hair had turned white. The grandfather I saw now was not the one I knew; we had no hobby and no history in common, and he became another adult, distant and unapproachable. With this, I forgot all about the journals and photos that I had kept and wanted to share with him.

After weeks of avoidance, I gathered my courage and sat with him once again. This time, I carried a large, leather-bound book with me. “Grandfather,” I began, and held out the first of my many journals. These were my early days in America, chronicled through pictures, art, and neatly-printed English. On the last page was a photograph of me and my grandfather, a net in his hand and a jar in mine. As I saw our faces, shining with proud smiles, I began to remember our days on the mountainside, catching butterflies and halting nature’s eventual decay.

My grandfather has weakened over the years, but he is still the wise man who raised me and taught me the value of capturing the beauty of life. Although he has grown old, I have grown up. His legs are weak, but his hands are still as gentle as ever. Therefore, this time, it will be different. This time, I will no longer recollect memories, but create new ones.

專家點評

這篇文章對作者與祖父的童年經(jīng)歷進行了富有詩意的回憶,。它描繪了一幅美麗的畫面,，展示了她從短暫的從美與藝術中汲取了寶貴的人生教訓，同時也將作者描繪成一位敏銳的自然與人性觀察者,。

寫一篇關于影響你的人的文章的一個具有挑戰(zhàn)性的問題是確保你在描述那個人和仍然保持文章的焦點在你和你自己的發(fā)展之間取得適當?shù)钠胶?。在這種情況下，Michelle設法抓住了她祖父世俗的本質(zhì),，理解蝴蝶轉(zhuǎn)瞬即逝的本性,，同時也富有同情心，理解Michelle對蝴蝶的關心(轉(zhuǎn)自完美留學),。

同時,，這篇文章繼續(xù)關注Michelle多年來的成長。從祖父那里,，她繼承了對自然的熱愛以及對生活的感悟和反省,。我們也看到了她的藝術一面，她將她的蝴蝶翅膀藝術描述為一種保護自然之美的方式,。

這篇文章中一個特別令人心酸的部分是,，當她九年后終于見到祖父時，她意識到祖父發(fā)生了怎樣的變化,。這篇文章在她祖父的衰老和早期關于他們過去捕捉的蝴蝶的短暫性的經(jīng)驗教訓之間做出了一個美麗的類比,。它讓她想起了生命是多么的短暫，它有力地確立了她關于創(chuàng)造自己的新記憶的最終認識,，這是她祖父試圖傳授給她的主要課程,。

總的來說，盡管這篇文章關注的是Michelle的祖父以及他對她的影響,，但我們?nèi)匀粚ichelle有很多了解,。我們知道她很有成就(跆拳道金牌)、藝術和愛心,。她的深思熟慮和內(nèi)省的天性在這篇文章中也大放異彩,，這無疑是吸引招生委員會的品質(zhì)。

六,、Lisa's Essay

Successful Harvard Essay: Playing it Dangerous

In hazy stillness, a sudden flurry of colored skirts, whispers of “Merde!” Sternly, my fingers smooth back my hair, although they know no loose strands will be found. My skin absorbs heat from stage lights above—if only that heat would seep into my brain, denature some proteins, and deactivate the neurons stressing me out. A warm hand, accompanied by an even warmer smile, interrupts my frenzied solitude. I glance up. My lovely teacher nods, coaxing my frozen lips into a thawed smile. A complex figure, filled in with doubt, yet finished with shades of confidence: My body takes its place and waits.

One, two, three, four; two, two, three, four. On stage, the lights and music wash over me. Never having had a true ballet solo before, my lungs are one breath away from hyperventilating. Trying to achieve a Zen-like state, I imagine a field of daisies, yet my palms continue sweating disobediently. It’s not that I’ve never been on stage alone before; I’ve had plenty of piano recitals and competitions. Yet, while both performances consume my mind and soul, ballet demands complete commitment of my body.

Gently slide into arabesque and lean downward; try not to fall flat on face—Mom’s videotaping. In terms of mentality, I would hardly be described as an introvert; yet, a fear of failure has still kept me from taking risks. Maybe I was scared of leaping too high, falling too far, and hitting the hard floor. As I moved up in the cutthroat world of dance, this fear only increased; the pressure of greater expectations and the specter of greater embarrassment had held me contained. Now, every single eyeball is on me.

Lean extra in this pirouette; it’s more aesthetic. But is it always better to be safe than sorry? Glancing toward the wings, I see my teacher’s wild gesticulations: Stretch your arms out, she seems to mime, More! A genuine smile replaces one of forced enthusiasm; alone on the stage, this is my chance to shine. I breathe in the movements, forget each individual step. More than just imagining, but finally experiencing the jubilation of the music, I allow my splits to stretch across the stage and my steps to extend longer and longer, until I’m no longer safe and my heart is racing. Exhilarated and scared in the best way, I throw myself into my jumps. I no longer need to imagine scenes to get in the mood; the emotions are twirling and leaping within me.

Reaching, stretching, grabbing, flinging ... My fear no longer shields me. I find my old passion for ballet, and remember the grace and poise that can nevertheless convey every color of emotion. Playing it safe will leave me part of the backdrop; only by taking risks can I step into the limelight. Maybe I’ll fall, but the rush is worth it. I’ll captain an all-male science bowl team, run a marathon, audition for a musical, and embrace the physical and intellectual elation of taking risks.

專家點評：

Lisa通過她富有創(chuàng)意的描述性文字成功地激發(fā)了讀者的真實情感,，從而創(chuàng)作了一篇獲獎論文，傳達了生動的意象,、發(fā)自內(nèi)心的感受和有益的內(nèi)省,。

我立刻把Lisa的寓言比作一只被關在封閉的籠子里的鳥，籠子象征著我們在生活中所面對的一切,，我們的恐懼,。Lisa的第一次芭蕾舞獨奏精彩地表現(xiàn)為她的“啊哈!在那一刻，她拋開恐懼(打開籠子),，并通過認真的自我反省,，選擇擁抱未來的風險(勇往直前)。

在第1-3段中,，Lisa通過她美麗,、豐富的語言和形象的描述瞬間吸引了我們，她將自己描繪成因壓力,、對失敗和家庭/公眾輿論的恐懼而動彈不得,。我感同身受，想了解更多!她那溫暖的幽默閃耀著完美的光芒：她想去激活她的大腦神經(jīng)元,，并提醒自己不要摔倒,，以免被她的母親/家人責罵 - 做得很好!Lisa用她的“可愛的老師”作為她的基礎、舒適區(qū)和支持者,，這是許多人可以分享的主題,。她的焦慮是相對的，她用這一點來解釋她厭惡風險的本性(轉(zhuǎn)自完美留學),。

在第 4-5 段中,，Lisa的獨奏被生動地描述為她跳舞并實現(xiàn)轉(zhuǎn)變的決定性時刻——恐懼變成了激情和興奮。她在瞬間充滿詩意，微笑,，擺脫恐懼,，像一杯溫暖的牛奶一樣擁抱風險。人們提出了一個尖銳的問題,，“但安全總比后悔好嗎?” 通過反省,，Lisa表達了她追求風險的愿望，風險將使她個人進步,。承認她可能并不總是成功,，“匆忙是值得的”。Lisa最后列舉了她將在學校里追求的領導角色和活動的具體例子——招生官員對那些渴望走出自己的舒適區(qū),，并在校園里開始新的冒險/挑戰(zhàn)的學生表示贊同,。

為了讓這篇文章更強大，這篇文章以獨特的敘事形式寫得非常出色,，營造了一種充滿活力,、有趣、深刻和相關的體驗,。Lisa的個人品質(zhì)貫穿整篇文章：創(chuàng)造力,、決心、克服障礙,、自我反省,、在風險中成長，當然還有激情!我們在動力方面留下了光輝的一課,，希望擺脫這種負面情緒,，繼續(xù)前進并取得更大的成就——“playing it dangerous”。

七,、Charles' Essay

Successful Harvard Essay

James was not fitting in with everyone else. During lunch, he sat alone, playing with his own toys. During group activities, the other campers always complained when paired with him. What was wrong? As camp counselor, I quietly observed his behavior—nothing out of the ordinary. I just couldn’t fathom why the other campers treated him like a pariah.

After three days of ostracism, James broke down during a game of soccer. Tears streaming down his cheeks, he slumped off the field, head in his hands. I jogged toward him, my forehead creased with concern. Some campers loudly remarked, “Why is that creep crying?” Furious indignation leaped into my heart. They were the ones who “accidentally” bumped into him and called him “James the Freak.” It was their cruelty that caused his meltdown, and now they were mocking him for it. I sharply told them to keep their thoughts to themselves. I squatted beside James and asked him what was wrong. Grunting, he turned his back to me. I had to stop his tears, and I had to make him feel comfortable. So for the next hour, I talked about everything a seven-year-old boy might find interesting, from sports to Transformers.

“I have a question,” I asked as James began to warm to me. I took a deep breath and dove right into the problem. “Why do the other campers exclude you?” Hesitantly, he took off his shoes and socks, and pointed at his left foot. One, two, three … four. He had four toes. We had gone swimming two days before: All the campers must have noticed. I remembered my childhood, when even the smallest abnormality—a bad haircut, a missing tooth—could cause others, including myself, to shrink away. I finally understood.

But what could I do to help? I scoured my mind for the words to settle his demons. But nothing came to me. Impulsively, I hugged him—a gesture of intimacy we camp leaders were encouraged not to initiate, and an act I later discovered no friend had ever offered James before. Then, I put my hand on his shoulder and looked him straight in the eyes. I assured him that external features didn’t matter, and that as long as he was friendly, people would eventually come around. I listed successful individuals who had not been hindered by their abnormalities. And finally, I told him he would always be my favorite camper, regardless of whether he had two, five, or a hundred toes.

On the last day of camp, I was jubilant—James was starting to fit in. Although the teasing had not completely disappeared, James was speaking up and making friends. And when, as we were saying our good-byes, James gave me one last hug and proclaimed that I was his “bestest friend in the whole wide world,” my heart swelled up. From my campers, I learned that working with children is simply awesome. And from James, I learned that a little love truly goes a long way.

專家點評

Charles(Charles Wong)講述了看到某人被排除在外的常見經(jīng)歷,，并解釋了他如何與之抗爭。在他作為營地輔導員的個人描述中,，Charles不僅表達了他對他人的深切關心,，而且還展示了他如何解決一般問題的思維過程。他不只是宣布這些個人特征,，而是通過個人材料展示它們,。有針對性地決定“展示”而不是“講述”是一種優(yōu)秀的寫作策略。

首先,，Charles從他對情況的描述開始,。他的語氣隨意而直接。他結(jié)合了重要的細節(jié),，但他的寫作并不是多余的,。他的文章簡潔易懂,。雖然這種方法似乎不夠成熟，但它反映了查理的原始,、真實的想法,。讀者能感受到他的關心;Charles帶領我們度過了他真正的困境。此外,，他描述的善舉——鼓舞人心的談話、擁抱——讓我們深入了解了他的性格,。包含這些細節(jié)的決定將Charles描繪成一個善良而聰明的個性,，在任何大學校園里都是有價值的。

此外,，Charles不僅描述了他如何解決這個特殊問題的,，而且將其擴展到日常生活中。他從看似平凡的經(jīng)歷中領悟了意義,，并解釋了它如何改變了他的整個心態(tài),。這種有意識地成長的能力表明Charles有從所有生活中學習的動力，他不僅僅是教室里的學生,。

八,、Yueming's Essay

Successful Harvard Essay

My Ye-Ye always wears a red baseball cap. I think he likes the vivid color—bright and sanguine, like himself. When Ye-Ye came from China to visit us seven years ago, he brought his red cap with him and every night for six months, it sat on the stairway railing post of my house, waiting to be loyally placed back on Ye-Ye’s head the next morning. He wore the cap everywhere: around the house, where he performed magic tricks with it to make my little brother laugh; to the corner store, where he bought me popsicles before using his hat to wipe the beads of summer sweat off my neck. Today whenever I see a red hat, I think of my Ye-Ye and his baseball cap, and I smile.

Ye-Ye is the Mandarin word for “grandfather.” My Ye-Ye is a simple, ordinary person—not rich, not “successful”—but he is my greatest source of inspiration and I idolize him. Of all the people I know, Ye-Ye has encountered the most hardship and of all the people I know, Ye-Ye is the most joyful. That these two aspects can coexist in one individual is, in my mind, truly remarkable.

Ye-Ye was an orphan. Both his parents died before he was six years old, leaving him and his older brother with no home and no family. When other children gathered to read around stoves at school, Ye-Ye and his brother walked in the bitter cold along railroad tracks, looking for used coal to sell. When other children ran home to loving parents, Ye-Ye and his brother walked along the streets looking for somewhere to sleep. Eight years later, Ye-Ye walked alone—his brother was dead.

Ye-Ye managed to survive, and in the meanwhile taught himself to read, write, and do arithmetic. Life was a blessing, he told those around him with a smile.

Years later, Ye-Ye’s job sent him to the Gobi Desert, where he and his fellow workers labored for twelve hours a day. The desert wind was merciless; it would snatch their tent in the middle of the night and leave them without supply the next morning. Every year, harsh weather took the lives of some fellow workers.

After eight years, Ye-Ye was transferred back to the city where his wife lay sick in bed. At the end of a twelve-hour workday, Ye-Ye took care of his sick wife and three young children. He sat with the children and told them about the wide, starry desert sky and mysterious desert lives. Life was a blessing, he told them with a smile.

But life was not easy; there was barely enough money to keep the family from starving. Yet, my dad and his sisters loved going with Ye-Ye to the market. He would buy them little luxuries that their mother would never indulge them in: a small bag of sunflower seeds for two cents, a candy each for three cents. Luxuries as they were, Ye-Ye bought them without hesitation. Anything that could put a smile on the children’s faces and a skip in their steps was priceless.

Ye-Ye still goes to the market today. At the age of seventy-eight, he bikes several kilometers each week to buy bags of fresh fruits and vegetables, and then bikes home to share them with his neighbors. He keeps a small patch of strawberries and an apricot tree. When the fruit is ripe, he opens his gate and invites all the children in to pick and eat. He is Ye-Ye to every child in the neighborhood.

I had always thought that I was sensible and self-aware. But nothing has made me stare as hard in the mirror as I did after learning about the cruel past that Ye-Ye had suffered and the cheerful attitude he had kept throughout those years. I thought back to all the times when I had gotten upset. My mom forgot to pick me up from the bus station. My computer crashed the day before an assignment was due. They seemed so trivial and childish, and I felt deeply ashamed of myself.

Now, whenever I encounter an obstacle that seems overwhelming, I think of Ye-Ye; I see him in his red baseball cap, smiling at me. Like a splash of cool water, his smile rouses me from grief, and reminds me how trivial my worries are and how generous life has been. Today I keep a red baseball cap at the railing post at home where Ye-Ye used to put his every night. Whenever I see the cap, I think of my Ye-Ye, smiling in his red baseball cap, and I smile. Yes, Ye-Ye. Life is a blessing.

專家點評

(據(jù)說這一篇華裔申請者的文書，大家可以感受一下)

Yueming的文書是一篇完美的申請文書,，它完全符合它的要求：即展示了Yueming的形象,，并允許招生委員會了解他的其他申請材料中沒有包含的關于他的事情。Yueming用他的爺爺棒球帽的故事向讀者展示了對他來說什么是重要的,，并展示了他將為校園生活做出貢獻的關鍵人格特征(轉(zhuǎn)自完美留學),。

盡管大部分文本都是專門講述爺爺?shù)膫饔洠@篇文章不僅僅是關于他的,。爺爺?shù)恼麄€故事是最后幾段的前奏,，揭示了Yueming性格中最重要的方面。就像在生活中一樣,，我們祖先的過去是后代歷史的前奏,，而后代的歷史還在不斷涌現(xiàn)。這種微妙的平行,，乍看之下并不明顯,，讓讀者了解Yueming性格的深刻發(fā)展和深入了解事物本質(zhì)的天賦。

Yueming展示了他從他人經(jīng)驗中學習的能力,，他強調(diào)了自己的韌性和從爺爺那里獲得的積極心態(tài),。這些品質(zhì)對于未來的哈佛學生來說無疑是必不可少的，并展示了他在校園內(nèi)外體現(xiàn)“生活是一種祝?！钡哪芰?。

九,、Tony's Essay

Successful Harvard Essay: Beauty in Complexity

Gazing up at the starry sky, I see Cygnus, Hercules, and Pisces, remnants of past cultures. I listen to waves crash on the beach, the forces of nature at work. Isn’t it odd how stars are flaming spheres and electrical impulses make beings sentient? The very existence of our world is a wonder; what are the odds that this particular planet developed all the necessary components, parts that all work in unison, to support life? How do they interact? How did they come to be? I thought back to how my previously simplistic mind-set evolved this past year.

At Balboa, juniors and seniors join one of five small learning communities, which are integrated into the curriculum. Near the end of sophomore year, I ranked my choices: Law Academy first—it seemed the most prestigious—and WALC, the Wilderness Arts and Literacy Collaborative, fourth. So when I was sorted into WALC, I felt disappointed at the inflexibility of my schedule and bitter toward my classes. However, since students are required to wait at least a semester before switching pathways, I stayed in WALC. My experiences that semester began shifting my ambition-oriented paradigm to an interest-oriented one. I didn’t switch out.

Beyond its integrated classes, WALC takes its students on trips to natural areas not only to build community among its students, but also to explore complex natural processes and humanity’s role in them. Piecing these lessons together, I create an image of our universe. I can visualize the carving of glacial valleys, the creation and gradation of mountains by uplift and weathering, and the transportation of nutrients to and from ecosystems by rivers and salmon. I see these forces on the surface of a tiny planet rotating on its axis and orbiting the sun, a gem in this vast universe. Through WALC, I have gained an intimate understanding of natural systems and an addiction to understanding the deep interconnections embedded in our cosmos.

Understanding a system’s complex mechanics not only satisfies my curiosity, but also adds beauty to my world; my understanding of tectonic and gradational forces allows me to appreciate mountains and coastlines beyond aesthetics. By physically going to the place described in WALC’s lessons, I have not only gained the tools to admire these systems, but have also learned to actually appreciate them. This creates a thirst to see more beauty in a world that’s filled with poverty and violence, and a hunger for knowledge to satisfy that thirst. There are so many different systems to examine and dissect—science alone has universal, planetary, molecular, atomic, and subatomic scales to investigate. I hope to be able to find my interests by taking a variety of courses in college, and further humanity’s understanding through research, so that all can derive a deeper appreciation for the complex systems that govern this universe.

專家點評

Tony 的文書從凝視海洋開始，我們能感受到他對自然世界的感知和生命本身的好奇心,。這種好奇被他巧妙地呈現(xiàn)出來,，并且更成功的是他能夠進行深層次的思考而不是拘泥表象。

故事圍繞一個毫不相干的事情展開,，一個隨機的選擇讓Tony在選擇法律之路時研究荒野藝術,。影響他的決定是偶然的，對此他很痛苦,。我們看到他承認自己受制于“以野心為導向的范式”的脆弱性,，而不是研究他最感興趣的東西。然而,，通過本文的其余部分,，我們發(fā)現(xiàn)Tony決定繼續(xù)從事荒野藝術，這徹底改變了他,，將他的視角從“簡單化思維”轉(zhuǎn)變?yōu)槌撩杂凇袄斫馕覀冇钪嬷械纳顚勇?lián)系”,。

Tony語言的力量幫助我們欣賞他意外覺醒的廣度和興奮。從想象“冰川峽谷的雕刻”到陶醉于自然系統(tǒng)的復雜力學,，這篇文章展示了Tony是多么欣賞我們的世界,，這要歸功于一個曾經(jīng)似乎不公平地武斷的事件。通過觀察Tony對生活相互聯(lián)系的渴望,，我們越來越相信,，他不斷發(fā)展的視角將引導他的研究進入令人興奮和意想不到的領域。

校報上說是10篇,，其實這兩年都是9篇,，所以大家應該不用找沒有看到的那一篇了。

優(yōu)弗教育首次獨家采用“雙團隊”導師模式-“DoubleTeam”,。團隊一：由兩位主導師組成為“首席專家顧問團隊”,。團隊二：由三位導師組成為“規(guī)劃執(zhí)行團隊”。在優(yōu)弗獨具特色的“雙團隊”指導下,，具備專業(yè)性,，聯(lián)動性以及高執(zhí)行力這三大特點，讓整體規(guī)劃突破傳統(tǒng)留學導師架構,，真正突顯每一位導師在學生身上可發(fā)展力,，可塑造力，從而將服務做實,，做精,，做細！??！