University of California - Davis Undergraduate College Application Essays

As a Peruvian native, my mother had to overcome many obstacles, yet, with her unique selfless character, fierce dedication, and immovable fortitude, she has raised me as a pinnacle example of maternal love. My mother is a cage fighter. The world...

The proudest personal experience of my life was being elected captain of the Carlsbad cross country team. I learned to become a leader by example and to inspire my teammates so that we could achieve our personal and collective best.

It seems like...

Despite living in the populous Orange County, I was raised with the small-town values of two parents from Weirton, West Virginia and Wellsburg, West Virginia: “God has given you the potential to achieve great things, so work hard and treat others...

At an age when most young girls spend their days watching Sunday morning cartoons and playing with Barbie dolls, I was struggling with the emotional turmoil that was my family. Growing up in the slums of L.A., my living situation was abominable: I...

I vividly remember running home from the library and locking myself upstairs to begin the reading. I rifled through the nutrition book with as much excitement as if I had found the Holy Grail. I stayed up all night to read it, to consume it, to...

The stage trembled under the rhythmic tapping of wood on wood as glossy ringlets bounced in the summer sun. After an energetic jig, a dozen grinning and giggling girls filed past me in their sparkling dresses. Meanwhile, I anxiously adjusted the...

“You’re in the wrong line, Melody!” my former classmate shouted across the blacktop. Heads turned and people stared, and my blushing cheeks complemented my hot pink shirt. I felt embarrassed and proud at the same time. On a hot September day in...

I was practically born on the river. Both of my parents were extreme whitewater raft guides, and they passed on their love of the river and nature in general to me. From a young age, my parents took me rafting on rivers like the San Juan, the...

As a French-American, I am symbolically bound to two altogether different cultural spheres via the hyphen. In its relation to me, the hyphen holds more than symbolic value alone. Growing up in America with divorced parents, my mother French and my...

I owe it all to Anna. Three years ago when she tapped my shoulder, I was an overwhelmed freshman lost in the pulsing sea known as Club Rush. Turning around, I found myself face-to-face with a petite, quivering girl. Although she held herself in a...

When one envisions winning a state championship, it’s not usually pictured from the bench player’s perspective. However, as the seconds ticked down on the game clock and I sat in my dry swimsuit on the sidelines, I couldn’t have been more ecstatic...

My journey with the animal liberation movement began almost a decade ago, at the tender age of nine or ten. I had not yet been exposed to what animal cruelty really is, but I somehow knew that something wasn't right in the way we fed ourselves. My...

I am convinced that I only have friends because of my mother’s cooking. Friends always seem to come through the door when spanakopita, tiropita, baklava, and other ethnic Greek foods are on the table. Watching others become infatuated with the...

I am an explorer. At 10 months old, my travels began with my family’s first move. Over the years, we have been relocated because of my father’s company, gradually bringing a family of five from East to West. Five states, five homes, and five...

As I stood at the end of the ledge watching my older brother prepare to attach to the zip line deep underground in New Zealand's Waitomo Caves, I couldn't help but think about the seemingly endless darkness that filled the cave ahead of us. The...

This is the balcony that extends into infinite dimensions. Inside: paintings and the smell of dusk. Lined against the tiled walls are canvases both void and filled. A soft light overhead. There is something extremely calming about occupying this...

I have been led to believe that for most, the airport is compulsory misery, a means to an end, on par with a visit to the DMV. But for me, alone in the airport, amidst the chaos of mankind, I am entranced. Perhaps it’s my desire for independence,...

I have read that our brains can store about one million gigabytes worth of memories. Those memories shape who we are and how we perceive things. What do my memories consist of? I have memories of Mexico: bringing my Polly Pocket suitcase to my...

“Niki Ragone? Is Thomas Ragone your brother?”

Before everything happened, this was a compliment. Five years my senior, he was a popular student, and I was proud to be known as his sister. The summer before eighth grade, though, that phrase took on...

After my first semester of Anatomy and Physiology, I thought that I was a genius in the subject. The class was rigorous, but rightfully so; in those five months I became fluent in obscure topics and conditions. But, on the first day of second...

I grew up with pictures of Philips Academy Andover plastered on my bedroom walls, closets, and shelves, each meticulously clipped from the 20 alumni magazines whose contents I knew by heart. When my acceptance letter arrived in my freshman year, I...

My knees and shins are coated with a layer of damp sand as I roll out of the pit. Standing up, I can feel my heart banging in my chest, the blood pulsating loudly in my head. Gingerly, I put pressure on my right foot and feel the familiar shock of...

It's a summery Monday morning, but instead of sleeping in, I'm outside of a museum, doing a hearty jig in a banana costume. I throw my hands in the air; I sing along to the music; I kick my feet in what I think is a shuffle. Strangers pass by and...

One of the most difficult challenges I faced was overcoming the loss of my friendship with Ana—a friend who had crawled into my life in the seventh grade and disappeared in my freshman year. Her disappearance had certainly not been the most...