埃默里大学个人陈述范文欣赏(招生官点评+写作建议)-上海托普仕留学

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埃默里大学个人陈述范文欣赏(招生官点评+写作建议)

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摘要:个人陈述堪称是美国大学申请的主文书,个人陈述要是应付了事,那么成绩再好,也只是徒劳的,下面是上海托普仕留学Hanna老师给您分享的埃默里大学六篇个人陈述范文,赶紧去看看人家是怎么写的吧!

  埃默里大学个人陈述范文欣赏|附招生官点评+写作建议

埃默里大学个人陈述范文.jpg

  埃默里大学作为全美前三十大学,这里在招生方面,一直都比较严谨,除了学术方面的严格要求之外,也会对于文书提出具体要求:要求真实,袒露自己

  We get inspired hearing about you. Your test scores and grades are an important part of demonstrating your academic achievements, but your essay and short answers tell us just a bit more about you and allow us to hear your voice.

  In this example of a well-crafted essay, the admission committee member who reviewed this student’s file had this to say:

  This essay is all about honesty. Being honest about their background, honest about their relationship with friends, and honest about their own feelings toward their community. The essay shows growth and reflection. While the simple topic of the essay is essentially not attending a high school dance, it is about so much more. The writing style is straightforward and simple—in a good way—and it is an edited and polished piece. The author of the essay is reflective about their community and does not try to be anything they are not. They understand that if they expect change, they themselves have to be a part of that change.

  We hope you use your essay to give us a compelling glimpse of the real you.

  下面是埃默里大学个人陈述六篇范文内容及招生官点评

  文书一:探索问题的一面

  Essay题目:

  Describe a topic, idea, or concept you find so engaging that it makes you lose all track of time. Why does it captivate you? What or who do you turn to when you want to learn more?

  I tap my red pen inattentively against the draft sitting before me. After some silent musing, I finally drag a line of ink through a phrase and reword it in small, loopy letters above. As a final thought, I circle the space between two words. My writer forgot the Oxford comma. Again.

  The Oxford comma is the comma used after the penultimate item in a list. I learned about this majestic piece of punctuation at an early age and wondered how anyone could advocate against it. How could anything that adds so much clarity, while requiring so little effort, be controversial? When I joined my school’s newspaper in sophomore year and learned that AP style does not use the comma, I was shocked. Therefore, when I became Managing Editor my senior year, my first initiative was reinstating it.

  Others might find this to be a trivial concern, but you know what they say about the devil: he lives in the details. It is part of my personal philosophy that details are the most essential part of any plan or project; they are what separates the bad from the good, and the good from the great. Details are vital to my work as a copy editor. Occasionally, writers groan when they hear that I will be the one editing their story, but that’s how you know you’re doing a good job.

  An effective copy editor will do more than correct punctuation: they’ll detect structural problems and predict questions that readers will ask so the writer can answer them. Writers may not love having to make so many changes, but they finish the news cycle with a product they are proud of.

  My attention to details, like that elusive comma, does more than make me a good worker: it makes me a good communicator. I listen carefully to people, to details, and I think they matter. I like to share my own opinions through writing and photography, but more than that, I like to share the stories of others. This past summer, I had the opportunity to meet a number of community workers and write about them for the regional newspaper. I got to meet and tell the stories of a couple who owned one of the last free community pools and taught kids to swim without taking out a salary, and a woman in her twenty-second year of running a volunteer event which grants underprivileged children access to new clothes and school supplies. Being able to give these local heroes the spotlight they deserved was more rewarding than I could have ever expected.

  What makes me unique is that I don’t just notice details, I care about them. I think clarity of communication is the most vital and most neglected aspect of a functional society. That is why I believe journalism and communication are important. You can’t move someone who is stuck in their ways by spouting facts and figures at them. You convince people by telling stories, stories that appeal to our shared humanity.

  Reporting is community building, and we definitely need more of that in this day and age. By listening to details and sharing observations, I can sometimes help two people who were not able to find common ground see past their differences. I believe this is an important part of being on the newspaper staff and even of being a good friend. And that is why I care about communication, and by extension, the Oxford comma

  招生官点评

  作为招生官,我们有时喜欢将申请视为一个故事。申请的每一部分——成绩单、论文、推荐信——都集中在一起,给出了一个深入的例子,说明每个学生是谁,以及是什么在个人和学术上激励了他们。

  通过该学生的申请,很明确的感受到学生对新闻和讲故事的热情。

  他能够利用像牛津逗号争议这样平凡的东西来背景化他们的优势并详细阐述两个有意义的经历——作为学校报纸的执行编辑和作为当地报纸的实习生。

  他不会像已经提供的简历那样简单地列出他们的成就,也不会讲述一个单一的故事来解释他们的观点。他使用牛津逗号无缝地编织了一个叙述,从而使学生的兴趣变得生动起来。

  这篇文章帮助我们作为招生委员会更好地了解申请人的整体情况。如果没有这篇文章,这个学生的故事将是不完整的。

  文书二:讲述具有挑战性的事件

  Essay题目:Some students have a background, identity, interest, or talent so meaningful they believe their application would be incomplete without it. If this sounds like you, please share your story.

  For the first three years of my life, my name was not Omar. In secret it was, but in secret was no way to live. To the world, I was decidedly to be a stranger to my own name. In public my family called me by a name eerily similar to mine: “Ammar.” I cried out and corrected them each time, only to be slapped on the mouth and sternly ordered to bite my tongue. Eyes wickedly stared on from behind the shadows, and slowly our public outings became less and less frequent, until my every request to play outside was decisively denied. I whined and begged, but the decision was as unyielding as their towering stance above me.

  Only years later would I come to understand that they were merely protecting me from the encompassing shadows stalking behind. Only then would I come to understand the extent of the bitter religious clash between Islam’s two branches, Sunni and Shia.

  Following the fall of Iraq in 2003, tensions turned deadly and rules ceased. Several names of religious significance effectively became death sentences. My name was one of those death sentences. I was marked by a conflict I was too young to comprehend.

  Uncertainty turned to fear when the looming threat of violence came in the form of a death threat to my father. Soon, family and community members became targets of an inconceivable evil; a friend of the family was murdered for aiding displaced Sunni Iraqis; a bombing rocked my brother’s school and shattered his innocence into a million shards. We were targets, and my identity was a possible catalyst provoking evil into harming those protecting me from wicked eyes.

  My family decided that remaining in Iraq was no longer an option. So, one day in 2006, under the cover of night, we took what little possessions we could carry into our cars and fled across the border. When complete disorder and conflict led to intensified bloodshed, our hopes of one day returning to our homeland were dashed and left broken.

  Jordan became our new refuge; my name was returned to me, yet in the chaos and uncertainty, I had lost my country and people. I traded my home for a refuge. My accent, alien to the other children, drew in laughter. My nationality, different and frowned upon, resulted in new pairs of condescending eyes which gazed beyond my humanity towards my parents’ lives. Their grueling toil generated minimal income as perceptions of refugees engendered no empathy among the hiring class. I had within my grasp my own name, my identity, yet I felt more like a stranger than when I donned another name.

  Ammar was human, I was not. Ammar had a home, I lost mine. Here, I had none but my family and they had none but me.

  Years of acting out at home and school passed. Yet in 2013, a phone call from our cousins in America fundamentally changed my life: “Your UN file got accepted!” cheery faces announced, “We will be seeing you in a week.” The sheer excitement I felt at that moment was only contrasted with the sadness that overcame me two days before departure: sadness of a life unfinished. I had to move. Again.

  Relocation had once disturbed my pursuit for identity. Now it does nothing short of offer me an opportunity to explore a future in which I set what defines my character.

  We landed. On our way from the airport, I rested my head onto the window of the van and dreamed of what I hoped to accomplish. Despite the perversions suffered in Iraq and Jordan, I adapted. I can do it again. Yes, I lost my country and identity, but America gave me back both. I am about to become a US citizen: like Ammar, I now have a home – a home that is founded on identity and community.

  招生官点评

  我一直建议学生分享他们的故事,无论是积极的还是具有挑战性的,都应该以最诚实的声音分享。

  这份个人陈述揭示了许多主题:国籍、多样性、诚实、适应性、变化,但最重要的是,希望和乐观。这句话是发自内心的,但不是压倒性的情绪化。

  它带领读者踏上全球旅程,介绍具有挑战性的体验,同时也提醒我们第二次机会的价值。这份个人陈述的作者表明,脆弱和勇气永远不会过时,归根结底,我们都希望有机会重新开始。

  文书三:写下你感兴趣的东西

  Essay题目:Some students have a background, identity, interest, or talent so meaningful they believe their application would be incomplete without it. If this sounds like you, please share your story.

  I found solace in poetry. Well, poetry recitation more precisely. Unconsciously, I have straddled a divide my whole life. My parents are immigrants, and when I started school, my parents and my peers made me aware of my differences. Unlike some of my peers, I had to act a certain way or prove I was capable of accomplishment to achieve greater opportunities. Naturally, I acclimated to my environment: I made friends with the white kids who hardly got in trouble, even though I looked different; I read and spoke exclusively English, even though Spanish came more naturally; at playtime, I would always make-believe that I married the princess, even though I would have liked just as much to have married a prince. I mastered the art of code-switching. In my mind, my vitality and my capacity to succeed in Not-Quite-Rural-But-Still-Agricultural Georgia hinged upon my presentation of palatability to my peers. Even still, I constantly obsess over my peers’ perceptions of me. Do I come off as too arrogant? Too overly-intellectual? Too “colorful”? Too silly and groundless? I work tirelessly to adjust for these possibilities.

  Early on, I gravitated toward poetry as a medium for expression. Each day, I adjusted myself more and more to fit the expectations which infused my small southern town. In public, though outwardly approachable, I critically analyzed each move I made and word I spoke. In the literary arts, however, I could see things the way others saw them and identify myself with language that spoke directly to my experiences. In school, I was careful to never appear too Hispanic for fear of succumbing to a stereotype of being under-educated or uninformed; at home, never too flamboyant, lest my parents become suspicious that something is awry; always, never too outside-the-norm. In poetry though, I could become Oscar Wilde and Maya Angelou, taking on their plights and their triumphs. I could escape into Neruda’s wistfulness or Hughes’ sentimentality. I could, for a brief period, remove myself from my own reality, rife with incessant existential questioning, and place myself in another, divining from the diction and structure a sort of psychoanalysis to be applied to my conscientious understanding of human interaction.

  When I was first assigned a poetry recitation in American Literature, I didn’t realize it would change my outlook forever. Eagerly, I seized the opportunity to express myself openly through poetry. Having shied away from theatre for fear of being categorized or negatively conceived, I readily accepted the challenge to explore my emotional and performative range. The recitation competition called Poetry Out Loud asks students to memorize poems and recite them in such a way which reveals their deeper meanings. I felt ready. I got to the regional-level competition during sophomore year, and my elation and excitement about the mere existence of this program resulted in my pursuant interest. At last, I found a medium, a wide-reaching community of support through which I might finally come to understand the purposes and effects of my struggles. Poetry allowed me to truly observe the wires in which we entangle ourselves and cemented the idea that I had for so long ignored: everyone shares struggles, be they large or small, and life is a quest to overcome them.

  With junior year came the guidance of incredible and supportive mentors that led me to that stage in Washington, D.C. where I won third place nationally in the Poetry Out Loud recitation competition. I had never felt so accomplished and bursting with resolution. To myself, even if to no one else, I proclaimed resolutely that I am Latino, I am bisexual, I am unafraid, and I am intellectually charged with finding how best to help others who have faced doubts similar to those I had. Surrounded by the diversity and fiery passion of fellow solace-seekers, I began to undo the ties in which I’d confined myself.

  招生官点评

  选择论文主题的最大挑战之一是确定您要分享的内容与您希望读者了解您的内容之间的区别。

  在我超过 15 年大学申请文书的阅读中,他们中的大多数只是分享其他申请部分中提供的信息。这位申请人不仅分享了他们对诗歌日益增长的热爱,而且还帮助我们了解了他们所在世界的许多细微差别。

  通过这篇文章,特别是在第一段中,我们深入了解了他们在努力适应同龄人的同时,与文化和个人身份的斗争。

  通过讲述这些非常个人的经历,学生将纸上的文字转化为一种非常人性化的体验,让读者能够联系并洞察他们是谁。

  除了分享个人经历和让读者与读者建立联系之外,还可以很好地利用他们的自然声音。太多次学生觉得需要添加大词并过度使用同义词库,而不是仅仅使用他们每天使用的语言。

  你的智力将通过你的成绩单和你的推荐来显示,所以没有必要使用你日常生活中所做的任何语言。这是一篇优秀的文章的原因在于它是真实的,显示出一定的脆弱性,并突出了萌芽的学术兴趣。

  最重要的是,我觉得这篇文章不是为委员会的招生顾问写的,而是一种自我表达的形式,突出了他们作为年轻人的个人旅程。

  文书四:诗歌和散文可以提升你的文书展现

  Essay题目:

  Share an essay on any topic of your choice. It can be one you’ve already written, one that responds to a different prompt, or one of your own design.

  ohHhh I uh umMm didn’t know

  my aH parents n-never said they never tOld me how was I supposed to…he eventually dropped the impersonation comes from the Latin words into & persona literally meaning into person. this man swallowed & spit back her strangled voice as if it was stuttered, cracked, unworthy of its words.

  parents can be blamed for things,but teen girls can never accept responsibility he said.

  maybe he thought my voice sounded like hers too & maybe that’s why I didn’t ask a single question even when he did. he asked every ethnic person there what country they were from & he said something like driving is as dangerous as living in a war zone,no offense to the people from Syria in the back of the room

  I don’t know exactly, because I was whispering to Kayleigh in the beginning was quiet. I whispered to her this is terrible because I could hear her small puffs of disbelief & I realized she was the only person in the room I trusted, not even myself, because I was smiling & laughing even when he made her come up as a voluntold & he said to her that he always picked on the heaviest girl in the class for this exercise, & when she spoke her voice shook & cracked & did you know that it was me? That I was the voluntold? that I was so ashamed of circumstance I pretended it was Kayleigh? it died before it really came out, my voice, which has done impossible things, stood tall in courtrooms, refused to melt by the fireside as my family debated politics, raised itself from the grave when it needed to at cheap shots, at poetry slams, at two faces, my voice, this incredible thing, was reduced to speaking in whispers seemed to catch his eye so we stopped eventually. something about needing that certificate, something about the power he had, something about how the guy who couldn’t speak English was calm in the corner… then Kayleigh whispered Trump 2020; I stood up. I calmly told this instructor off, I told him that he was ignorant, that he was wrong, that a sixteen-year-old teen girl knew more than he did. I left the class because I was strong enough to do it. I did, I really did you know that I stayed until the end without so much as a word of justice? did you know it would be so easy to lie on this page? I crumpled my name tag when leaving & he said something like thanks or it was a pleasure but I ran quickly before his words could lick my skin again. I didn’t play music from empowering female artists on the way home because I was scared their lyrics had changed. I ran to my room, unraveled in the closet, plugged my ears & whispered I’m not real over & over again listening to my body hack at itself & I wondered how many calories I’d burn by crying & I wondered why I wasn’t saying it is not real & then I realized I was the monster in my own closet. I was handed this legacy of justice from every woman in history’s bruised ribs, from the pounding of every gavel’s demand, from the set of my mother’s jaw. this man, he had a bat that smacked out shame, but the blood I left on the carpet carried the rage of bloodlines; I scream back.

  招生官点评

  文章提示的最后一句是“of your own design”,虽然提示直接允许学生提交和/或写自己选择的文章,但提示间接允许学生利用给定的空间进行创作。

  创造性写作和其他艺术作品一样,是由作者和读者共同决定的。有时这两个定义是一致的,而在另一些时候它们是相互竞争的,这是个人陈述的挑战之一;学生应该用创造性的形式写文章,比如诗歌、歌曲或上面的文章。每个学生都决定了他们个人陈述的创作风格和方向。

  你的文章传统上是用段落和散文写的吗?或者你写了一篇走在创作道路上的文章,冒着读者对这段旅程不熟悉的风险?让我明确一点:这个问题没有正确或错误的答案。

  也就是说,在我为这篇文章写反馈的时候,创作方向对这个学生很有效。我们很少读这种文体的文章,虽然有风险,但却相当令人耳目一新,发人深省。

  如果你的文章风格是真实的,那就值得冒险。

  这篇文章我读了很多遍,每次都有新发现。有时,我会找到前面问题的答案。其他时候,我被留给更多的问题,虽然在一个好奇的方式,而不是作家的批评。

  作为一个例子,我仍然在思考在文章中定义“模仿”的目的。在这篇文章中,作者是不是在模仿某人,也许是他们自己?或者这个选择只是为了给说教者增加一层额外的特征?

  在文体上与众不同的是,这种个人陈述让你对逗号、符号和缺少大写的标点符号(或缺少标点符号)背后的意向性感到疑惑。从一个词组到另一个词组的移动微妙地允许时间流逝,每一个思想都以另一个开始而结束。

  这个学生打算利用埃默里大学广受好评的创意写作课程。知道了这一点,思考的风格和表达方式会产生真诚的兴奋,思考这个学生下一步会做什么。

  这种个人陈述值得多次推敲,重点是它的风格和内容。学生的个人陈述是围绕着自我宣传的一刻展开的,是对女性赋权的反思,也可能是对青少年焦虑的反思。

  这个话题被用作更好地了解学生的工具。被认为是软弱和不负责任的学生,这篇文章展示了他们的行动和语言的勇气和使用自己的声音的力量。

  对话的使用并没有破坏个人陈述的流畅性,相反,它有助于性别歧视和可能的仇外心理的整体人格化。

  这种非正统的方法可能不是每个人都喜欢的风格。但是,归根结底,个人陈述对作者来说应该是个人的、真实的,而不是为了安抚读者而写的。另外,这篇文章立刻引起了你的注意,不是吗?

  文书五:使用特性化描述来展示你的写作技巧

  Essay题目:

  Describe a topic, idea, or concept you find so engaging that it makes you lose all track of time. Why does it captivate you? What or who do you turn to when you want to learn more?

  I have to admit, when I first read the song title “Moanin'”, I thought it had certain innuendos.

  “Are you serious right now?” I stare across the table at Parker, a six foot five eleventh grader with long red hair that cascades down his shoulders, a spoon in one hand and phone in the other, diligently playing World of Warcraft. He reminds me of a princess, in the weirdest way, he’s so…dainty. I always laugh thinking about the juxtaposition between his looks and his personality.

  He rolls his eyes, delicately rests his spoon on the bowl of mac and cheese, places both of his hands on the table, and looks at me pointedly in exasperation.

  “Yes. You have to listen to it. ‘Moanin” is the greatest jazz song to ever exist.” A piece of cheese flies off his lip and hits my face. I flinch internally.

  “As if. Not that kind of song. I’m honestly disgusted, Parker.” He gasps in feigned shock, like we haven’t had this conversation 200 times before this moment and I try not to laugh.

  “First of all, it’s not even about that. Second, you’re listening to it.” As he goes back to playing his game, I am left to ponder: How great could this song possibly be?

  I know now that “Moanin'” by Art Blakey and the Jazz Messengers might just be the greatest jazz record to ever exist. When those drums hit after the first chorus, they hit different.

  I’ve always known that I love jazz. However, it never occurred to me how difficult it was to explain until I was attacked with the question: “What’s so great about jazz?” Suddenly, I was speechless. Why am I so drawn to jazz? After all, I am originally a classically trained musician. But once jazz entered my life (in the form of the godlike, ethereal Kenny G), I’ve never been the same.

  In an attempt to answer this question that plagued me, I began listing out all the traits about jazz that I love: its vibrance, unpredictability, ever-changing nature, spontaneity, and yet its ability to be soul wrenchingly emotional. Suddenly, the answer hit me like Art Blakey’s drum set on the opening chorus of “Moanin'”: I love jazz because jazz is me.

  When I think of jazz, I think of colors. So many colors, like a thousand rainbows were poured into a blender, showered onto a page, and translated into music. I see that color in my personality. I’m vibrant and colorful, and sometimes expressive to the point where there are so many things happening at once it’s hard to take in. That’s how jazz is. I often find myself listening to the same jazz records over and over, discovering something new every time. I’m passionate and bold, I’m sassy like Lee Morgan’s trumpet solo on “‘Moanin'”. Jazz doesn’t apologize for what it is, it just is. Likewise, I’ve learned to be unapologetic in who I am.

  Jazz is unpredictable and spontaneous. When flashes of inspiration come to me, I dance in my room until 2 AM on a school night, the adrenaline of doing something so extemporaneous is enough to keep me awake. Furthermore, as a jazz musician, I have developed a remarkable ability to adapt to rapidly changing circumstances.

  But my favorite thing about jazz, and my favorite thing about myself, is that it is ever changing. I’ve always said that in jazz, you never play the same song twice. Who I am today is a product of years of changing, learning, growing and evolution. Like jazz, I don’t strive to be perfect, I just strive to be my most authentic self.

  So why am I so drawn to jazz? I guess because I see it in myself, I hear myself in the way it’s played. That’s the beauty of finding music that fits you so well, it becomes you.

  招生官点评

  当我们花费数月时间阅读申请材料时,我们的团队试图在每个文字中看到人性。我们想了解我们的申请人,而申请的写作部分经常是我们可以做到最好的地方。

  由于作者写的是爵士乐,这个主题显然是真正感兴趣的,我们能够从这些文字中提取个性。作者风度翩翩,通过生动活泼的介绍,我们可以想象这个学生在我们的校园社区中。

  而且,在整篇文章中,作者的文笔细腻成熟,但依然坦率、脚踏实地。这篇文章读起来好像这个学生正在和我们说话,分享一个关于与同龄人对话的故事。

  在文章的后半部分,作者将他们对爵士乐的热爱与他们的生活轶事融为一体。有时,学生的话题和他们的个性之间的类比可能让人觉得有些牵强。

  然而,在这里,作者的比较提供了对他们的习惯和想法的额外洞察。作者分享了申请材料中其他地方没有的信息,例如他们的自发性和真实性,更不用说他们对爵士音乐本身的兴趣。

  我们在论文中发现了这个申请人的兴趣,并且通过这样做,能够更全面地了解这个申请人。

  文书六:用你真实的视角

  Essay题目:

  Some students have a background, identity, interest, or talent that is so meaningful they believe their application would be incomplete without it. If this sounds like you, then please share your story.

  Over the past half-century, the crosswinds of social and economic change sweeping through Nebraska’s small towns have left me and my family, alongside many others across our state, straddling a tedious tightrope between the old and the new, the familiar and the foreign.

  All my life, I’ve been shaped by the collision between the rural, small-town currents of my upbringing and the city-slicker world of tall buildings and traffic jams I’ve largely grown up in. By this, I don’t mean cornfields and mainstreets melting away under the pressures of urban expansion. I mean the collision between two vastly different worldviews—one deeply suspicious and distrustful of outsiders, manifested around me through my grandfather’s diatribes bemoaning the parasitism of immigrants or his deftness in dealing out words I’ve been taught to consider unspeakable, and the other warm and welcoming, centered around a household that counts inclusiveness as a primary virtue and has embraced the evolving nature of Nebraska’s identity.

  To understand the tumult of emotions interwoven within this collision, it is critical to understand that, over the past several decades, rural blight has descended upon communities across Nebraska. As families like mine have emigrated to larger towns and cities in search of greater opportunity, rural populations have dwindled, and hospitals and businesses have shuttered. In addition—and particularly relevant to my experience of Nebraska’s rural crisis—a wave of major demographic shifts have left many communities across my state broken and hurting. From Schuyler to O’Neill, from Lexington to Fremont, increasingly large international immigrant populations have been caught in the chokehold of a vehement and metastasizing nativism. This fervent anti-immigrant sentiment, rather than promoting some distorted idea of cultural integrity, has left entire communities—old blood and newcomer alike—under the weight of suffocating suspicion and hatred as unprepared school districts buckle and ambush-like ICE raids tear families apart. The situation in much of rural Nebraska, to put it bluntly, is dire.

  And so, this summer, determined to glean a more complete understanding of this issue and its effects on my family, I traveled to live and work on the family farm, which is managed primarily by my grandparents. The experience was instructive—in a time of trade wars and tariffs, I was reminded of the tremendous economic pressure under which farmers operate. But, far more eye-openingly, it gave me a new appreciation for the social and cultural strain bearing on rural Nebraska. For context, it is helpful to understand that the nearest town has undergone a transition from nearly homogeneously white to over 70 percent Hispanic in just the past three decades. Many evenings, as my grandparents and I sat down to supper, a soft vitriol would pervade the conversation as my grandparents exchanged worried comments about the new and burgeoning Sudanese population in town or the Mexicans working at the Cargill plant.

  Welcome to racism in my world.

  It’s soft, it’s private, and it’s the most barefaced form of racism I’ve ever encountered. It hurts me to know that two of the people I love and admire most in the world have been brought to hate their neighbors and blame them for the much broader issues facing rural America. It hurts me to know that many groups of people simply seeking security—people who, in fact, will likely prove vital to the survival of small-town Nebraska—are facing a chilling welcome in a state I am otherwise so deeply proud of.

  Though prejudice might be stubborn, I am too. My writing on the subject has received national recognition, I care for refugee families through my school, I’ve corresponded with my elected representatives, and I’ve engaged in thoughtful, compassionate dialogue with my grandparents. It’s harder to hate people if you understand them, after all. I believe that education and reconciliation are vital to the recovery of my state and our broken communities, and I’m doing my best to facilitate, wherever I can, the beginning of this healing.

  招生官点评

  这篇文章写起来不容易。对每个人来说,家庭和家庭都是复杂的,尽管有些人比其他人更复杂。

  很少有人谈论自己成长过程的复杂性,更很少有人愿意公开分享家中晚餐时发生的种族主义对话。然而,这不是一篇激进的文章。尽管使用了诸如家庭、爱情和敬佩之类的词语,这些词语常常表达一种亲近感,但作者还是写了一篇有点遥远的文章。

  分享的每一条信息都经过计算和测量,以便读者对这个学生的环境有一个非常具体的了解。对内布拉斯加州农村的描述读起来就像经济历史学家的话,不一定是你平均17岁的孩子。

  作者成熟而深思熟虑的语法无疑让这篇文书增色不少。“The crosswinds of social and economic change”和“the chokehold of a vehement and metastasizing nativism”。这些是真正有天赋的作家的短语,他们努力工作使每一个词都能产生影响。

  这篇文书中我最喜欢的词是最后一句:healing。经过多次阅读,这篇文章本可以有一个不同的,可能更明确,转向。相反,我相信作者为这种遥远的语调提供了一种解释,他们也在治愈。

  从以上范文可以看出好的个人陈述是怎么写的:

  首先要熟读个人陈述写作要求,再针对性的进行内容构思,更要对所需的材料,进行整理,其中避免拼写错过,更要富有严密的写作逻辑,不要夸大和写虚,要突出真实的自己,学会反思和思考,从而得出启示!写完,更要仔细修改,或者反复读,避免语言堆砌。

  以上是关于埃默里大学大学个人陈述范文的完整介绍,如果您对美国留学感兴趣,欢迎您在线咨询上海托普仕留学老师,托普仕留学专注美国前30高校申请,助力国内学子顺利获得美国藤校入读资格。尽早规划和递交申请,对您未来留学会更有帮助

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