Pepperdine University Undergraduate College Application Essays

Three A.M. I still smell like the chicken-soaked grease of a shift spent working at Chick-Fil-A, but I’ve hit a plot snag. My character’s stuck in Boston, I’m stuck on page 78, and I need to figure out how to get us both out before I’ll let myself...

There are undoubtedly many essays that offer similar elaborations on an identical thesis: that the integration of faith and learning always prepares one for a life of service, and that service-learning has a positive influence on the mind, spirit,...

It wasn’t my first audition, yet as I looked into the intimidating mirror, I needed to reassure myself: "You are Beyonce." I gasped for oxygen as I entered the dimly lit room, attempting to calm the fire in my stomach, but listening to other...

When my mom gave birth to me, I weighed in at nine and a half pounds and measured twenty-two inches. One could say I was pretty big for a newborn, but whenever I tell this story, it is soon followed by a: “And that’s pretty much when I stopped...

A woman in heels click-clacks through the parking lot, walks up three steps, and pauses as a young man with short curly hair and an inviting smile opens the door to the building. An old man, grandfather to many, hobbles into the building from his...

Home-schooled. For the longest time, I assumed that all children, like me, were homeschooled by their mothers. I attended Chinese school and art classes, but my mother delivered my first history lesson around our kitchen table––with an Odyssey...

Dear Roommate:

I was born to a family of six children – three older adopted siblings, me, my younger brother, and my younger sister. Living in a house full of people, I've never known what it's like not to have a roommate. When I was five, I...

Several weeks ago, I was made aware of my sisters’ excursions into my bedroom with measuring tapes and note pads in preparation for my departure to college (which, mind you, is still one year away; their level of excitement is extraordinary). My...

“I never want to raise my hand in school again.”

At least that is what I initially thought after being laughed at by my entire sixth grade science class. Sporting a faded Bob Dylan t-shirt, the middle school teacher asked if anyone could tell him...

What are you?

I am American.

No, but what are you?

I am Vietnamese. My father comes from a childhood of war. A war that took his father and brother and sister without notice. My father comes from broken English and mispronunciations. From...

I didn’t understand what street lights were until I was about eight. Still, some of my earliest memories are of street lamps. Growing up, I clearly remember seeing blurry beacons of light suspended in the dark. In the daytime, the seemingly...

I collect rocks.

I promise it isn’t as lame as it sounds.

On a winter afternoon, the wet mulch crunched under my feet as I walked towards the school bus after my third-grade field trip to the Boston Science Museum. My small, calloused hands held...

When I was about the age of six, my parents introduced me to the technological toy-marvel of the 90s, the original Nintendo Gameboy, which I came to both cherish and dissect. I would move on to owning my first computer at around age 8, an HP...