Slacka-demic
"Be ashamed to die until you have won some victory for humanity." - Horace Mann
As I sit bleary eyed in front of my computer screen, attempting to write a tidy, yet impressive, 1,000 word summation of my life and times, I am reminded of the aforementioned Mann quote. And then, subsequently, reminded that I am screwed.
First some context.
I suppose it's only right that a Graduate School essay be hard. A little intellectual curve-ball right out of the gate to set the tone for your next two years and weed out those easily spooked by a little cognitive strain. But there is a difference between challenging and unreasonable, and BU is tilting towards the latter.
Write a narrative about your life. This should include information about your accomplishments, family, education experience, and outside activities. Be creative rather than philosophical. Remember you are writing for a reader who knows nothing about you or your background.
Well...damn. As an English major I have grown amazingly dependent on focus of thesis. My papers have connections, overarching themes, and most of all, a uniform point. But what the fine (if not devious) people at BU admissions are asking me to do is scatter-shot my essay - Something I paid a large tuition bill to learn how not to do.
It doesn't help matters that it's an essay on my life, which is about as exciting as
calculating a Fibonacci series (as in NOT at ALL). Right now my bio reads as such:
I was born at a young age and will presumably die at an older. In the middle I did some stuff, most of which is not noteworthy. Except, of course, for the time I met Whoopi Goldberg and high-fived her. In conclusion, buy American.
Hardly edge-of-you-seat material. I've got no monkey on my back. Fought zero odds. My arsenal of anecdotes - which is fine for parties - hardly rates on the collegiate-scale. I'm actually tempted to take up a vice, simply so I can overcome it.
So if anyone has any advice or ideas, or is willing to threaten my life and livelihood in some way (like with, say, a bat) so that I can turn it into an epic tale of bravery and ingenuity - aid away.
In the meantime, I'll just be taking inventory of my hum drum life.
...
Better than a quaalude.
As I sit bleary eyed in front of my computer screen, attempting to write a tidy, yet impressive, 1,000 word summation of my life and times, I am reminded of the aforementioned Mann quote. And then, subsequently, reminded that I am screwed.
First some context.
I suppose it's only right that a Graduate School essay be hard. A little intellectual curve-ball right out of the gate to set the tone for your next two years and weed out those easily spooked by a little cognitive strain. But there is a difference between challenging and unreasonable, and BU is tilting towards the latter.
Write a narrative about your life. This should include information about your accomplishments, family, education experience, and outside activities. Be creative rather than philosophical. Remember you are writing for a reader who knows nothing about you or your background.
Well...damn. As an English major I have grown amazingly dependent on focus of thesis. My papers have connections, overarching themes, and most of all, a uniform point. But what the fine (if not devious) people at BU admissions are asking me to do is scatter-shot my essay - Something I paid a large tuition bill to learn how not to do.
It doesn't help matters that it's an essay on my life, which is about as exciting as
calculating a Fibonacci series (as in NOT at ALL). Right now my bio reads as such:
I was born at a young age and will presumably die at an older. In the middle I did some stuff, most of which is not noteworthy. Except, of course, for the time I met Whoopi Goldberg and high-fived her. In conclusion, buy American.
Hardly edge-of-you-seat material. I've got no monkey on my back. Fought zero odds. My arsenal of anecdotes - which is fine for parties - hardly rates on the collegiate-scale. I'm actually tempted to take up a vice, simply so I can overcome it.
So if anyone has any advice or ideas, or is willing to threaten my life and livelihood in some way (like with, say, a bat) so that I can turn it into an epic tale of bravery and ingenuity - aid away.
In the meantime, I'll just be taking inventory of my hum drum life.
...
Better than a quaalude.