Oberlin College Undergraduate College Application Essays

"Northwest, this is La Crosse Tower. Hold-short runway three-one for Cessna on final."

Knowing that I had personally delayed a plane full of commercial passengers on my sixteenth birthday was not what I had in mind for my first solo flight....

If Oberlin is the metaphorical forest, then I am the tree, seamlessly integrated into the foliage, underbrush, and spirit of my fellow students, and the college that ties us together. Like any forest, the total beauty comes not from one single...

It was an ordinary game of floor hockey. My palms were soaked, my skin unbearably itchy. The droplets of sweat were rolling down my back. But I couldn’t pay any attention to that. The offensive player was approaching me with the puck, trying to...

If the English language were a playground, the word “education” would definitely be a bully. Big and scary sounding, education grabs unsuspecting pronouns by the collar and throws them up against the wall with their untied shoes kicking above the...

Walking towards Asia House from south campus with Joe, my host whom I had met about an hour prior, we talked about the little idiosyncrasies of Oberlin as we prepared to eat the co-op made pizza. There was an indie rock-jazz fusion band performing...

I have been traveling since I was two weeks old. Denver is where I was born, but almost immediately after my adoption, my parents brought me to my home of 17 years, Rhode Island. I have had the fortune and privilege of having parents who love to...

It was the McCarthy era. Attorney General Tom Clark had just announced a list of fifty-six “subversive” organizations that were supposedly part of the communist crusade. My grandfather, vice president of the History Society at Tilden Senior High...

The Siberian tiger roared and twisted his massive body as he pressed his paws against the chain-link fence. Miniscule dirt particles trickled from his raised paws while saliva strings dripped from his gaping mouth. I stood on the other side of the...

It’s safe to say that I went through an awkward stage primarily during my middle school days. Foreign endorphins, peer pressure and poor judgment basically describe grades six through eight. This period of self-identity stretched into my high...

Fingers at the ready. Arms at the ready. Feet at the ready. Stomach at the ready. Eyes at the ready. Keys, bow, steps, song, speech – all at the ready to create another person, another emotion, another world. This genesis, this nebula that hatches...

I wake up to the pleasant sound of The Flaming Lips flowing from my alarm clock. As I sit up and rub my eyes, I bask in the familiar comfort of my favorite piece of rented art. After dressing, I gather my belongings, walk out the door, check to...

When my mother read picture books to me as a child, I lingered in the world of the story for days after, demanding that we act out my favorite scenes over and over again. I dressed my sister up as characters from my favorite books, carefully...

This is how my nightmare begins.

I’m standing in the heart of a pristine university campus, surrounded by hundreds of teenage girls fidgeting with their luggage. Damp hair sticks to the backs of our necks; we can taste the heat and the salt and...

At the 1912 Stockholm Olympics, Japanese runner Shizo Kanakuri dropped out midway through the marathon after feeling like he could no longer keep running. He simply took a boat home without telling anyone, and the race officials assumed he had...

My program was successful, but the determination to continue competing further eluded me. I longed for the hackathon to finish, staring at the minute hand on the clock as it inched closer to the hour. As soon as the buzzer sounded, I felt I had to...

At the tender age of nine, both my hands clutching the glass of water I’d carefully poured, I made my way over to the table where my grandmother, or Halmoni as we say in Korean, sat before a war zone of cards strewn across the table. I was not...

I, now 17, still fondly remember sitting on the beach as a little girl with my grandmother. Half-asleep and warm, we, the introverted outcasts of family vacations, would read and chat for hours. I discovered the art of poetry through our...