Analyzing My Own College Essays

Jean Piaget, a clinical psychologist famous for his work in cognitive development, demonstrated that developing children attempt to make sense of the world around them through their own interpretations of their environment. In other words, Piaget believed that children are their own scientists, attempting to educate themselves about the chaotic world they're encased in.¹ Every child: boy or girl, toddler or adolescent, curious or indifferent, hardworking or lazy, is different. They each learn with their own internalized scientific method, perhaps subconsciously. I like to think that this internalized method is creativity. I have spent the last two years in high school tutoring many student peers, mostly in Calculus and Physics, and I have noticed myself that each student responds differently to any given explanation.² Some of my students learn most effectively in an easygoing environment, while others succeed in a more professional environment. When teaching in an isolated setting, I am learning about my student just as much as my student is learning about the material. I test which methods work for each individual. For example, I may explain the literal definition of a derivative is to one student, and if that doesn't work I would then try to help them visualize the movement of a car and how it relates to the derivative.³ Some students prefer to memorize and repeat, while others prefer to understand and visualize. There is no one right way to learn, thus there is no one right way to teach.⁴ Teaching is a spectrum of infinite possibilities and finding the most effective method takes a patient but creative approach. All of my students have found success in their respective classes, leading me to believe that there is no such thing as laziness, but rather a lack of an “internalized method” of learning that has yet to be found.⁵ The opportunity to help my peers find their method is something I will always cherish. While seemingly opposites, with a creative perspective, I believe teaching and learning are ultimately the very same process.⁶

Having just finished medical school in Vietnam, my mother was arranged to marry my father. My mother and brother immigrated to America shortly after. While simultaneously relearning medicine in English and despite being overqualified, my mother worked in an assembly line for years and raised my family in a garage so she could provide my family with future opportunities.⁷ My mother's experience has taught me that when an opportunity knocks, one still has to get up and answer the door.⁸ I was lucky enough to be raised in America.⁹ I didn't quite understand the magnitude of how lucky I was until I matured in high school and learned more about my own family history. This maturation gave me insight as to what my life really was: an opportunity. With all these favorable circumstances, I have opened the door for myself to further my abilities as a student. I've taken online writing internships and as many AP courses as I could take at my school along with several additional college courses. Ironically, the most meaningful educational opportunity I have had did not occur in school, but rather in a hospital. While shadowing a physical therapist, I met a woman who had just suffered multiple fractures in her lower extremities due to a car accident. She was not only broken physically, but also emotionally. She was noncompliant with therapy and told us she was ready to die. Despite this, the physical therapists persevered and at the end of 8 weeks I witnessed her take her first steps since her accident. Both the patient and the physical therapists taught me how precious a human life is and how strong the human spirit can be. Although initially unwilling to take the opportunity to cooperate in therapy, the patient can now go resume her life at home, only now with an iron backbone and a revived sense of hope.¹⁰ This was only one of many opportunities I have been given and I will continue to take advantage of future opportunities to better myself and my community.¹¹

Jigsaw puzzles are composed of all sorts of pieces: corner pieces, side pieces, colorful pieces, bland pieces, all of which create a much bigger picture. I like to think math as a jigsaw puzzle.¹² From the moment we enter grade school, we are taught how to do math, whether that be addition, subtraction, algebra, or calculus.¹³ These concepts are all used some way and somehow in any application, from counting our fingers to describing why the planets' orbits are elliptical. Every “piece” of mathematics is used to decipher inexplicable phenomena, elucidating a larger, more coherent picture of everything as we know it. The moment I was given the first piece of this grand puzzle was the moment I became fascinated with the idea we call mathematics. I have furthered my education in mathematics as far as high school has allowed me, taking AP courses in Calculus, Statistics, tutored in said classes, and I went as far as taking courses at a community college. There's a certain satisfaction in reading a problem, determining what steps need to be taken, and solving the problem. One cannot “cram” math.¹⁴ Although one may know all the formulas and equations necessary to pass a test, there must be a deeper understanding of the material and knowing how and when to apply it in order to truly appreciate the power of mathematics. For this very reason, I have come to realize it wasn't math I was in love with, but the application of creativity and knowledge.¹⁵ I have spent the majority of my educational career ignorant to the fact that every subject is a puzzle, not just math. Math is the puzzle of numbers, language the puzzle of words, history the puzzle of human interactions, biology the puzzle of life.¹⁶ Each subject is a puzzle waiting to be solved, all of which leave me eager to discover and grasp the pieces in order to create new puzzles.¹⁷

I had always been a small kid, perhaps due to being a year younger than my peers or maybe just genetics, but I was always smaller than everyone else. I didn't let this stop me from playing sports throughout my childhood, including soccer and basketball. However, the one sport that was particularly special to me was football. When I was 10 years old, I joined a tackle football league for the first time. I was barely 5 feet tall and easily weighed 20 pounds less than my teammates.¹⁸ I spent almost every single day of my summer playing my heart out in the grueling heat. We ran countless miles in the 100 degree weather, we tackled each other until we could barely stand, then we ran some more. Every day I came home bruised, sore in muscles that I didn't know I had. Needless to say, I was physically beat. Every day, I wondered if I had enough in me to show up the next day to do it again. After 2 months, my coach had to choose who was going to stay on the team for the full season. My coach sat me down and told me words that would burn into the back of my skull: I didn't make the team. I gave it my best shot and it wasn't enough.¹⁹ Regardless, I asked to practice one last time. I almost passed out from going too hard, thinking maybe my efforts would get me back on the team. Unfortunately, that was the last time I ever played football for a team. I learned that life is not what happens to me, but rather how I react to it. I began to lift weights in hopes to get bigger and I discovered the sport of powerlifting. I applied the same discipline to my training and I now hold the California State record for the bench-press, deadlift, and total in my age/weight class. I didn't let the fact that I was small affect me, because in the end that's what made me, me.²⁰