Before I post my essay, I would just like to narrate the horrible ordeal I had on Dec. 15th (yes, the deadline for Stanford). Naturally, my Internet, of all the freaking days of the year, broke down. No one was home to help me or take me somewhere with internet access. It was 11:30 P.M. on Dec. 15th. Desperate, I ran for 2 miles in less than 15 minutes to the nearest Kinko’s Fedex. Exhausted, I barged into Kinkos, told someone off for cutting in front of me and submitted my application at 11:54 p.m. And of course, the reason I was submitting so late was because I had barely started to write my essay at 3 p.m. that same day. Well, enough, here they are, tell me if they’re good or not? I hope essays don’t matter too much, I have everything else going for me in terms of scores and ECs and teacher RECs.
SHARING INTELLECTUAL INTERESTS IS AN IMPORTANT ASPECT OF UNIVERSITY LIFE. DESCRIBE AN EXPERIENCE OR IDEA THAT YOU FIND INTELLECTUALLY EXCITING, AND EXPLAIN WHY.
“A spectre is haunting Europe - this spectre is communism,” so begins Karl Marx’s and Frederich Engel’s The Communist Manifesto, published during the age of Metternich, on the eve of revolutions, and in the year 1848. Disgruntled by the bourgeoisie and their exploitation of the proletariat masses, Marx and Engel championed a new form of government - a government based upon a classless society wherein property and wealth are collectively owned by all. While Marx’s and Engel’s call for revolution ultimately failed, their efforts reveal to me an idea that has always been fascinating: the idea of government and politics. Specifically, it is man’s struggle with government which fascinates me. Throughout history, from our primitive ancestors to the Greeks and Romans, man has always yearned for the ideal form of government. Often times, government and politics do not meet these ideals.
My fascination with government intensified when I first picked up the novel, 1984. Telescreens. The thought police. Hate week. All these were aspects of George Orwell’s dystopian world of 1984. In Orwell’s nightmarish world, the government has controlled every form of freedom, including one’s last refuge - one’s thoughts.
Living in my bubble, I am often oblivious to the struggles that people face with government and politics today. However, it is through this fascination that I have been inspired to take on a struggle of my own - a struggle to be informed and to educate those that are less informed.
JOT A NOTE TO YOUR FUTURE ROOMMATE RELATING A PERSONAL EXPERIENCE THAT REVEALS SOMETHING ABOUT YOU.
The waitress greeted us with much trepidation, her hands shaking as she timidly asks for our orders. What was she so afraid of? After all, it was just my friends and I having a nice dinner together at the Olive Garden. As we started eating, we had every eye in the restaurant on us. People leered at us like meat at a butcher shop. However, when I quickly glanced their way, they would furtively pretend they weren’t staring. When I told the waitress that she had given me the wrong drink, she profusely apologized, showing deference when it wasn’t necessary. Maybe it was the fact that we presented such an aura of brilliance or maybe it was because of our magnetic personalities. Or maybe it was the fact that we were all dressed as Italian mobsters. Yes, that’s probably it. I mean, what is so strange about dressing up as Italian mobsters and eating at the Olive Garden? After all, the Olive Garden is an Italian restaurant and they serve Italian food now don’t they?
Well, if you got the joke, then I can say you’ll get to like me and my antics a lot more. However, if you’re reading this and are in absolute confusion, then we might take a little time to get adjusted to each other, my friend. Nonetheless, I’m sure we’ll be friends. I enjoy humor and would like to believe that I possess a sense of one. Sure, I can sit around all day philosophizing about the inanity of life with you, but I’d much prefer it if we spent our time plotting for world domination.
AS YOU REFLECT ON YOUR LIFE THUS FAR, WHAT HAS SOMEONE SAID, WRITTEN OR EXPRESSED IN SOME FASHION THAT IS ESPECIALLY MEANINGFUL TO YOU? WHY?
It is ironic that when John Lennon first wrote the lyrics to the song “Imagine”, he criticized it for being too idealistic. However, little did Lennon know, the song would inspire a generation of idealistic peacemakers.
The first time I heard the song “Imagine”, I was a sophomore lost in the confusing world of high school. Adults often forget how hard high school really is. Like most teenagers my age, I was going through the ever-popular and universally experienced rite of passage: teenage angst. And like most teenagers, I felt that my cynicism was different from the rest. I felt that no one really understood how I felt. That the people, especially adults, who tried to characterize my behavior as typical teenage melodrama were in the wrong. I’m different, I thought. I’m not like the others. I especially resented those that tried to characterize what I was going through as simply a phase that everyone eventually gets over. It’s funny how most of the advice I’d gotten was along the lines of “get over it.”
Get over it.
Get over what? Was I supposed to get over the fact that while we in the Western world lavish in comfort, forty-thousand people worldwide are dying every day from hunger related causes? Was I supposed to get over the fact that our unfair trade policies and business practices exploit the poverty-stricken farmer whose crops are now worthless and whose child painstakingly stitches the shirt I wear on my back?
I guess I was sort of different from my peers. Most teenagers didn’t think about these things now did they? Why would teenagers care about the plight of people half way around the globe? Why would teenagers care if America refuses to sign the Kyoto Accord? Why would teenagers care about nuclear proliferation? And lastly, why would teenagers care about societal injustices? Teenagers have other things to worry about: girls, grades, parents, and trying to maintain a semblance of a social life.
As someone who has always been intellectually bright, I admit that I have been somewhat pretentious in my thoughts - thinking that somehow just because my angst was over far nobler causes that I had more of a right to express it. I would often deride the angst of my peers as reeking with superficiality. After all, while my peers around me were channeling their frustrations through the hairstyles they sported and the clothing they adorned, I was worrying about whether the clothes I wore were made from the exploited labors of others. I thought that those who chose to not conform with societal norms were actually conforming with nonconformity. I didn’t strive to be a nonconformist. I didn’t spike my hair, nor did I dress in all black garb. I maintained my smile, bottling up all my cynicism under a cap of false optimism.
My teenage angst quickly spiraled into a form of adult cynicism. No longer was I imbued with this false sense of passion and hope. Child labor no longer became an issue that troubled me personally. Child labor became a necessity - at least the child is getting paid instead of starving. Global warming quickly became an overrated issue. World hunger? Population control. Social injustices? The facts of life. No longer did I have faith in people. Man was naturally evil - inherent in his very nature. People fight to acquire land, money, and power - not to better the world. Peace was something unattainable. Naturally, my emotions were in constant flux, struggling to maintain stability. The more I knew, the less happy I became. Wallowing in my own self-pity, I yearned for happiness.
I found it in a song.
The mesmerizing ballad of John Lennon’s “Imagine” stirred an epiphany in me. While it didn’t inspire me to join the Peace Corps to start working towards world peace, the song has certainly helped me shed some of my cynicism. To some, the song may sound overly sentimental and idealistic, to me, the song was something that would cheer me up when I was down.
It’s funny how things have changed. Now my friends scrutinize me for being too optimistic. They criticize me for being too idealistic. And people tell me to stop dreaming. My response to them:
“You may say I’m a dreamer, but I’m not the only one.”