我念的新加坡RJC蠻恐怖的。就說(shuō)我們那個(gè)Computer Club，committee里8個(gè)人4個(gè)國(guó)際olympiad，SAT除了我都>2320。學(xué)校堅(jiān)持要寄去美國(guó)的期末成績(jī)單，我也是有B有C，更別提school ranking的百分比多恐怖。從小我給自己定位都是靠和周圍人比的，在RJC我自卑極了，還差點(diǎn)被某businessman勸誘放棄ED最喜歡的學(xué)校。

后來(lái)我才覺(jué)得，academic和ECA定位確實(shí)很重要，但是對(duì)于我們international applicants來(lái)講,或許不是最重要的。

看到某書上有個(gè)Harvard美國(guó)學(xué)生感嘆說(shuō)，我很自卑我的SAT不是full score而只是2380我也不是XX sports的captain。人家本土2400和captains已經(jīng)排長(zhǎng)隊(duì)了，還會(huì)缺一個(gè)泊來(lái)的？

我現(xiàn)在覺(jué)得美國(guó)那些大uni都是百貨商場(chǎng)。只不過(guò)我們不是顧客是貨物。但凡大百貨商場(chǎng)要實(shí)力也要面子，要夸自己進(jìn)的貨好，還要夸自己進(jìn)的貨全。美其名曰，cultural diversity. 大uni看我們，可能主要看這個(gè)。成績(jī)和課外活動(dòng)什么的是個(gè)門檻，只要跨的過(guò)去了蹦得再高都難出彩，因?yàn)榇髐ni的AO們?cè)缪刍?。我們?application里，essay真得很關(guān)鍵。

剛寫essay時(shí)不知所措，本來(lái)有很多方案的，比如讀了本TSEliot想大耍把花槍。想到最喜歡的幾個(gè)學(xué)校都挺難，越想越覺(jué)得沒(méi)戲越覺(jué)得悲苦，終于把之前的功利心態(tài)漸漸淡了，只想真正的表達(dá)一下自己的心情。這樣琢磨essay的時(shí)候一下子開闊好多，小的時(shí)候很多想法都出來(lái)了。比如，為什么小學(xué)生好壞都要看數(shù)學(xué)競(jìng)賽，還有很多家里人生活的一些坎坷。

有感而發(fā)的東西當(dāng)然自己寫的舒服多了，后來(lái)證明，別人看得也不錯(cuò)。電話問(wèn)ED result時(shí)某AO竟然記得我的essay，說(shuō)You are very earnest!

后來(lái)才知道我的很多朋友們對(duì)待申請(qǐng)文都有點(diǎn)偏差。有的成績(jī)非常優(yōu)秀的直接把申請(qǐng)文當(dāng)作是再多填一張表格，更多的是把申請(qǐng)文看得太過(guò)神圣，于是飽讀各類 ‘successful essay collection’，要么就是像我那個(gè)TSEliot計(jì)劃一樣大?；專瑥闹袊?guó)人口論述到美伊戰(zhàn)爭(zhēng)。記錄自己‘光榮史’的流水賬沒(méi)味道，AO當(dāng)場(chǎng)被催眠，不了解的不感興趣的topic是卻有刺鼻味道的，AO敏感得很。我自己就險(xiǎn)些掉進(jìn)這個(gè)坑里。

翻開任何essay guide都說(shuō)‘write in your own voice’，在application的壓力下確實(shí)是最難以辦到的真理。其實(shí)我們每個(gè)都是有advantage的，埋在我們經(jīng)歷里，不需要很偉大，只要有真實(shí)細(xì)節(jié)應(yīng)該就會(huì)不錯(cuò)。分享我的一篇essay，語(yǔ)言很造作也很chin-glish表見(jiàn)笑，只想說(shuō)明app essay就是我這樣記錄點(diǎn)小事也可以的。Because the love and respect I wrote about are real.

Hehe, 預(yù)祝老爹今年評(píng)職稱大關(guān)順利度過(guò)啦?。禳c(diǎn)快點(diǎn)漲工資…）

題目：描寫一個(gè)對(duì)你影響很大的人。

In the sweltering mid-summer nights of Wuhan city, our apartment was never quiet: frogs chirped outside the window, mah-jongg clicking next door, people cheered or bawled, emptied beer-bottles clattered. Neighbourhood Aunties, back from the nearby Yang-tze towel factory, seized the square little mah-jongg table as the last stage to relive their youth. Away from this clamour, I watched my father. Piles of grey books almost obscured him entirely. Insects buzzed about the blazing-white florescent lamp above him. His off-white singlet, already drenched and translucent, could hardly collect any more sweat drops that kept trickling down his neck.

What a mismatched scene.

My father never played mah-jongg, nothing like it. At the age of thirty-seven, he was forced to leave his beloved job as an aquatic-life analyst during the city-wide “Big Retrenchment”, a season in which decrepit state businesses collapsed in mass, and the talented and the idle were alike left jobless. Undaunted, my father returned to school for a postgraduate degree. I laughed when he sat down at his desk to read English texts the way I recited my primary-school Chinese, and was amused by his excitement when he was admitted under a professor, only four years his senior.

It took me a decade to grasp my father’s story—the ruthless competition in adult world, and the courage and strength he needed to endure. Where millions of jobless middle-aged men turned hopeless, my father refused to resign himself to grumbling and desperation. He taught me an ancient faith that has motivated generations of ordinary Chinese to cope with the harshness in life: responsibility—for oneself and for others.

I believe, as it coloured my father’s life, this faith will carry me through my own.