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This is an actual essay written by a college applicant to NYU.
The author was accepted and is now attending NYU.
[Rick Moen comments: Hugh Gallagher grew up in Newtown Square,
Pennsylvania, and wrote that essay for an NYU application when he was 18
years old. He was graduated from NYU in 1995. In June 1998, he wrote
to one archivist: I was happy to see my college essay on your site (by
the the way, I did send it to colleges), and my first novel, Teeth, was
published by Pocket Books this Spring. ... It's a coming of age tale
about a guy with really messed up teeth, who goes travelling around the
world instead of fixing his mouth."
The essay first appeared in the May 1990 _Literary Calvalcade_, a
magazine of contemporary fiction and student writing published by
Scholastic in NYC, won first prize in the humor category of the 1990
Scholastic Writing Awards, was reprinted in the August 1990 _Harper's_
(pg. 36), was NOT reprinted in the _New York Times_, and subsequently
has been copied just about everywhere, almost always failing to credit
the author.
You might also enjoy John T. Mongran's exchange with the MIT Admissions
Office, archived as http://linuxmafia.com/pub/humour/mit-john-mongan.html.]]
3A. IN ORDER FOR THE ADMISSIONS STAFF OF OUR COLLEGE TO GET TO KNOW YOU THE
APPLICANT, BETTER, WE ASK THAT YOU ANSWER THE FOLLOWING QUESTION: ARE THERE
ANY SIGNIFICANT EXPERIENCES YOU HAVE REALIZED THAT HAVE HELPED TO
DEFINE YOU AS A PERSON?
I am a dynamic figure, often seen scaling walls and crushing ice. I have
been known to remodel train stations on my lunch breaks, making them more
efficient in the area of heat retention. I translate ethnic slurs for
Cuban refugees, I write award winning operas, I manage time efficiently.
Occasionally, I tread water for three days in a row. I woo women with
sensuous and godlike trombone playing, I can pilot bicycles up severe
inclines with unflagging speed, and I cook Thirty-Minute Brownies in ten
minutes. I am an expert in stucco, a veteran in love, and an outlaw in
Peru.
Using only a hoe and a large glass of water, I once single-handedly
defended a small village in the Amazon Basin from a horde of ferocious
ants. I play bluegrass cello, I was scouted by the Mets, I am the subject
of numerous documentaries. When I'm bored, I build large suspension
bridges in my yard. I enjoy urban hang gliding. On Wednesdays, after
school, I repair electrical appliances free of charge.
I am an abstract artist, a concrete analyst, and a ruthless bookie.
Critics worldwide swoon over my original line of corduroy evening wear. I
don't perspire. I am a private citizen, yet I receive fan mail. I have
been caller number nine and have won weekend passes. Last summer I toured
New Jersey with a traveling centrifugal-force demonstration. I bat 400.
My deft floral arrangements have earned me fame in international botany
circles. Children trust me.
I can hurl tennis rackets at small moving objects with deadly accuracy. I
once read Paradise Lost, Moby Dick, and David Copperfield in one day and
still had time to refurbish an entire dining room that evening. I know the
exact location of every food item in the supermarket. I have performed
several covert operations with the CIA. I sleep once a week; when I do
sleep, I sleep in a chair. While on vacation in Canada, I successfully
negotiated with a group of terrorists who had seized a small bakery. The
laws of physics do not apply to me.
I balance, I weave, I dodge, I frolic, and my bills are all paid. On
weekends, to let off steam, I participate in full contact origami. Years
ago I discovered the meaning of life but forgot to write it down. I have
made extraordinary four course meals using only a mouli and a toaster.
I breed prize winning clams. I have won bullfights in San Juan,
cliff-diving competitions in Sri Lanka, and spelling bees at the Kremlin.
I have played Hamlet, I have performed open-heart surgery, and I have
spoken with Elvis.
But I have not yet gone to college.