最新!2023年哈佛大学7篇新生优秀文书出炉! 附哈佛官方点评 女子吉尼斯记录mage( 八 )


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.
哈佛点评:
Marina的文章很好地解决了许多大学申请者的担忧:如果你没有经历过戏剧性的剧变或克服难以置信的困难,你就没有任何有趣的东西可写 。玛丽娜的文章以充满朋友的社区中的快乐童年为背景,通过描述性细节和感官语言与读者建立联系,让不认识她的人能够第一手了解塑造她的世界 。
这篇文章最有力的方面之一是Marina的身临其境的叙述,这种语言的特殊性确保了这篇文章读起来不会像一般文章一样--很明显,只有 Marina(或者可能是她后院的朋友之一)才能写出这篇特殊的文章 。
Marina的作品还很好地实现了申请论文的其他目标之一:利用生活中的小事件更广泛地展示你这个人的一些核心方面,展示一种根深蒂固的信念、一种生活哲学的形成,或者一种已成为决定性品质的人格特质 。
Marina本可以避免一些陷阱 。一个是刻板印象的危险:把爱尔兰家庭与咸牛肉、圣帕特里克节、U2、吉尼斯黑啤和一罐一罐的金子联系在一起,可能会让人听起来对文化不敏感或不屑一顾,尤其是在其他两个家庭都没有这种陈词滥调的情况下 。另一个陷阱是使用太多的修饰语,如形容词和副词,这有时会使散文听起来不真实 。在这里,第一句话中,每个名词都有一个形容词,每个动词都是一个更常用的词的一个较少使用的同义词,这可能会让人觉得被重写了 。
Samantha's Essay:Samantha C.

I’ve always been a storyteller, but I’ve only been an alleged fish killer since age five. As a child, my head was so filled up with stories that I might have forgotten to feed Bubbles the class pet just one time too often. Once I pulverized an entire pencil, because I was daydreaming instead of taking it out of the sharpener.
More than anything else, I became an obsessive list-maker. I memorized and wrote down long lists of my stuffed animals, cities around the world, and my favorite historical time periods. I created itineraries and packing lists for my Build-A-Bears, then arranged them in rows on a pretend airplane. I drew family trees for a made-up family during the Industrial Revolution. I wrote lists until the spine of my notebook cracked under the weight of graphite.
For a long time, I thought this was something that I alone did, and that I did alone. Lying on the floor of my bedroom, I spun fantastical stories of mundane events. Each story opened and closed in my head, untold and unsung.
Years later, though—to my amazement—I discovered other people who were interested in the same things I was. Wandering into fanfiction websites and online forums, I was welcomed into a vibrant community of writers—serious, silly, passionate people who wrote hundreds of thousands of words analyzing character dynamics and exploring endless plot threads. When I finally started posting my own thoughts, I didn’t feel like I was taking a risk or venturing into new territory. I had been speaking these words to myself since I was five, preparing myself to finally shout them into the real world. And people responded.
Spurred on by this excitement, I started writing stories for other people to read. I had fallen in love with the community writing had given me, and with writing itself. I wanted to contribute my own small piece to a world much bigger than me. I shouted my stories up to the WiFi signals that caught and carried them, waiting to be found by someone else writing lists in her bedroom alone.