College Essay係列（三十九）：2023 哈佛成功文書（3-4）

前篇：

2023 哈佛成功文書（1-2）Georgina 的《Lemonade with no Lemon》和 Abby 的《Family at Barnes & Noble》

 

本篇：2023 哈佛成功文書（3-4）

本篇來讀讀2023哈佛成功文書的第三、第四這兩篇

 

第三篇，Marina的《Backyard Four Corners》

It's 8AM. Dew blankets the grass under my bare feet as my small hands grasp the metal of the backyard fence. I lift my heels, summoning enormous power in my tiny lungs as I blare out a daily wake-up call: ""GIRLS!"" Waiting with anticipation for those familiar faces to emerge from their homes, my mind bursts with ideas eager for exploration.

Years later, at the corner of our yards, gates magically appeared; an open invitation connecting the backyards of four mismatched homes. The birth of the ""Four Corners"" inevitably developed into lifelong friendships and became the North Star in the lives of absolute strangers who have become family. As parents bonded at the gates, discussing everything from diapers to first dates, the kids took advantage of overlooked bedtimes and late night movies. Today, I launch into adulthood with the imagination, leadership, and confidence born from adolescent adventures.

Behind corner #1 lived the Irish neighbors, where I embarked on a culinary exploration of corned beef and cabbage served during the annual St. Patty's celebrations. My taste buds awakened with the novelty of a peculiar dish that seemed to dismiss the health hazards of sodium chloride, an element that conjures up mental images of chemistry experiments. With U2 playing on the speaker, and parents enjoying a pint of Guinness, adolescents discussed inventions that could lead us to a pot of gold; from apps that would revolutionize the music industry, to building a keg cooler from a rubber trash can (and yes, we actually tried that). Endless playtime and conversations fueled the gene of curiosity which molded my creative thinking and imagination.

Behind corner #2, vibrant Italians cheered on the creation of zip lines and obstacle courses, which taught me a thing or two about Newton's Laws of Motion. Body aches from brutal stops provided lessons in physics that prompted modifications. This inventive spirit during backyard projects required testing, redesigning, and rebuilding. I wanted to conquer the yard and use every square inch of it. My swimming pool hosted ""Olympic Games"", where the makeshift springboard I built would have made Michael Phelps proud. I dove into projects, disregarding smashed fingers and small fires. Through persistence and sheer will, repeated failures became a source of progress for all to enjoy. These lessons served me well when diving into the Odyssey of the Mind Competitions.

Corners #3 and #4, where Cuban roots run deep, entertained countless activities opening a world of learning and exploration. 1AM backyard stargazing encouraged my curiosity; the night sky like a blank slate, ready to be lit up with discovery. Through the eye of the telescope, I traced stars that were millions of miles away, yet filled my tent like fairy lights. Questions merged in a combinatorial explosion that only led to more questions. Could a black hole really cause spaghettification? Do the whispered echoes of dead stars give a clue to how old our universe truly is? Years later, at the FPL Energy, Power, and Sustainability Lab, conversations about smart grids, electric vehicles, and a possible colonization of the moon would take me back to that backyard camping, propelling my desire for exploration.

In my little pocket of the world, I embrace the unexpected coincidence that struck 20 years ago, when four families collided at the same exact moment in space and time. My Four Corners family, with their steadfast presence and guidance, cultivated love, maturity, risk-taking, and teamwork. Through my adventures, I became a dreamer, an inventor, an innovator, and a leader. Now, fostering my love for learning, spirit of giving back, and drive for success, I seek new adventures. Just as I walked through the magical gates of my beloved Four Corners, I will now walk through transformational thresholds to continue on a journey that began as a girl, at a fence, with a heart full of hope and a head full of possibilities.

 

對於這篇文書，Crimson以“immersive account” on experiences of daily odds來評價其寫作手法，也給出“excellent”的評估。對於自己PO出來的文章，Crimson自然都是給出優評的。Marina的故事細節是”full of five senses”的。Touch到晨露的濕潤、hear到少女的歡呼、smell到和taste到各種美味的烹調，see到夜空的星星閃爍，等等。雖然Crimson也看到了這篇的短處，即對不同文化（Irish和Italian）背景的stereotype和文字上的過多形、副詞（modifier），但能在充滿想象的、對日常景物的描述中，融入了作者的STEM興趣，Crimson認為這篇還算是難得的。

從凸某角度看，這篇也是一篇普通的文書。這篇的長處，是從普通的日常事物上做文章，給故事長出有價值的個人成長價值。但她的選材，backyard，又確實缺乏讓人耳目一新的感受。你可以把這篇，與2016年Brittany的《Costco》一文比較，兩篇寫法類似，但這篇的選材比《Costco》明顯差了一大截了。Costco入文，在當年算是既熟悉又新鮮的。熟悉在於它對中產來說的daily屬性，新鮮在於此前尚沒人把它寫做文書主題過。Backyard 則屬於平常主題了。不信你可以Google一下，“Backyard Essay”會產生無窮多的結果，但“Costco Essay”的搜索結果裏，仍然隻是Brittany的那篇爆文。

文章的結構上，顯得簡單且平常。1-2-3-4的結構模式看起來像是laundry list，這是小學生就具有的結構能力。而寫成這篇這樣的文字水平，優秀的初中畢業生就能做到了。凸某的給分是B。

 

第四篇，Una的《See without Looking》

The first word I ever spoke was my name. I was intrigued that my entire identity could be attached to and compressed into such a simple sound. I would tell everyone I met that my name meant “one,” that it made me special because it sounded like “unique.” When I learned to write, I covered sheets of paper with the letters U, N, and A. Eventually, I realized that paper was not enough—I needed to cover the world with my name, my graffiti tag.

This came to a screeching halt in kindergarten. One day in music class, I scratched UNA into the piano’s wood. Everyone was surprised that I tagged my name and not someone else’s. I didn’t want someone else to suffer for my misdeeds. I wanted to take something, to make it mine.

Kindergarten was also the year my parents signed me up for piano lessons, and every aspect of them was torture. I had to learn to read an entirely new language, stretch my fingers to fit challenging intervals, use my arms with enough force to sound chords but not topple over, grope around blindly while keeping my eyes on the music, and the brain-splitting feat of doing this with each hand separately. Hardest was the very act of sitting down to practice. The physical challenges were more or less surmountable, but tackling them felt lonely and pointless.

I only fell in love with music when I found myself in a sweaty church on the Upper West Side—my first chamber music concert, the final event of a two-week camp the summer before sixth grade. I was nervous. My group, playing a Shostakovich prelude, was the youngest, so we went first. My legs shook uncontrollably before, during, and after I played. I nearly became sick afterward from shame and relief. I was so disappointed that I thought I could never face my new music friends again. From the front row, I plotted my escape route for when the concert finished. But I didn’t run. I watched the whole concert. I watched the big kids breathe in unison, occupying the same disconnected body. I fell in love with music through the way they belonged to each other, the way they saw each other without even looking.

I stuck with that chamber camp. In the twenty chamber groups that have made up my last six years, I’ve performed in six-inch heels and nearly fallen off-stage during my bow. I’ve performed in sneakers and a sweatshirt, on pianos with half the keys broken and the other half wildly out of tune, in subway stations, nursing homes, international orchestras, Carnegie Hall, and on Zoom.

Chamber music doesn’t work when everyone aims to be a star; it works when everyone lets everyone else shine through. It’s more fun that way. A musical notation I rarely saw before playing chamber music is “una corda,” which says to put the soft pedal down and play on only “one string,” usually to highlight another player’s solo. I don’t need to be the loudest to breathe in unison with my friends, to create something beautiful. In that moment, I’m not just Una, I’m the pianist in the Dohnanyi sextet.

I started to love music only when I realized it doesn’t belong to me. I had to stop trying to make piano my own and take pleasure in sharing it. I learned that the rests in my part were as meaningful as the notes; that although my name means “one,” I’d rather not be the “only.” My favorite compliment I’ve received was that I made an audience member feel like they were sitting onstage next to me. This, to me, is the essence of chamber music. To pull your audience onto the stage, trusting your group isn’t enough—you have to fuse together, to forget you exist. For a few minutes, you have to surrender your name.

 

對於這篇文書，Crimson以“powerful introspect” on one’s “individuality”，“curiosity”，“integrity”和 “responsibility”來評價其故事，也給出“it works”的評估。從自己名字的”獨特”性入手，抓住讀者眼球，用學習音樂的故事來展示個性的長大，把一個成熟個性所經曆的過程，比較真實地敘述出來。其中的vulnerability，比如把自己名字畫在公共的鋼琴上，以及在Chamber Concert裏如濫竽充數的表現和緊張，構成故事的真實性。

從凸某角度看，這篇也是一篇比較好的文書。這篇的長處，是從普通的音樂上做文章，而提煉出的價值，卻能超出個人主義範疇，進入集體主義價值觀的Sharing 和Belonging。這一點，本文所體現的成長價值是明顯的。

這篇的文章結構，仍顯得幼稚。本篇用了三分之一的篇幅描述幼兒時的經曆，留給故事的轉折和升華部分就顯得過少了。任何文書故事的起承轉合，起和承要精煉短小精幹，控製在2段（1/4）篇幅，以免喧賓奪主。轉，是故事的重點部分，需要一個既意外又合理的情節來承擔。上台隻想逃，下台卻留看，這個情節既沒意外，也不合理。

怎樣的情節才意外且合理呢？鄭智化《我這樣的男人》裏有大量這樣屬性的歌詞。比如“我的腳步想要去流浪”“我的心卻想考航”，“我的影子想要取飛翔”“我的人還在地上”。這篇，可以把文尾那位feeling onstage的audience member，提前一點寫在轉折段（第四段）裏，讓自己在台上看到audience，並從此中悟到台下聽眾感受的不同於台上表演者之處，從而下台後變身聽眾從新體驗Chamber音樂。關於意外且合理的轉折段，我可以寫出很多，就不在這篇裏多廢話了。

這篇的所優之處，在於最後把自己名字這一概念拿出來呼應文首。凸某的給分，是B+。其實，這篇結尾段的內容敘述，顯得有點過度表達了。能夠產生點睛和升華的效果的寫法，是簡單的一句，讀者既可以意會到的，就像第一篇《沒檸檬的檸檬水》。

 

= = = 後 續 內 容 提 綱= = = 

第五篇，Simar 的《First Haircut at Age 17》

第六、七量篇，Samantha的《Story Telling》和Amy的《The Color of Everything》

後補三篇

*Connor的《Waking Up Early》

*Tony的《Beauty in Complexity》

*Sean的《Butterfly Identity》

整體上來看：

Harvard Essays 2023 on Crimson Georgina| Lemonade with no Lemon (Lebanese 1G Girl) Abby    | Family at Barnes & Noble (Ethiopian 1G Girl) Marina  | Backyard Four Corners (Cuban 1G Girl)     Una     | Seeing Without Looking (Latino 1G Girl)    Simar   | First Haircut At Age 17 (Sikh 1G Boy) Samantha| I Am A Storyteller (Poem ECs non-ethnic) Amy     | The Color of Everything (diversity non-ethnic) Tony    | Study Wilderness Art (CA URM Boy) Sean    | Butterfly Identity (MA Queerness Boy) Connor  | Working Dad & Me (NH 1G Boy)