Boston College Application Essays

Inside a concrete church filled with stacks of children and thick, humid air, an old fan in the corner was my only source of comfort. I watched as a microphone was being passed around, frightfully heading my way like a pistol in a game of…

As in Harry Potter, where the wand chooses the wizard, the trumpet chose me—although, at the time, I thought I was choosing the trumpet. Four wind musicians stood before me in my elementary school’s auditorium. Each one played an excerpt showcasing the instrument’s ability, trying…

Disgusted by the foul urban odors of Pakistan, my younger brother and I became possessed by the utility of our iPhones and remained confined within the walls of our uncle’s apartment. Eventually, my uncle became frustrated with our self-isolation and offered to take us on…

“Pressure is the amount of force exerted on an object by the air above it,” my physics teacher explained. I jotted down the definition but then began to think…if only it were that simple. So what is pressure really? Pressure is juggling three AP classes…

The movements are lucid in my mind: Lunge – contre de sixte – paré en cédant – feinte de riposte. Right on the arm to finally lunge and touch the foot. Green light. I got her. 13-13; only two more touches to win. I can…

Few things make my grandfather more proud than fulfilling the sense of duty that comes with casting a ballot. A Cuban political refugee, my grandfather never misses an opportunity to reinforce just how important voting and democracy are. The sad reality, however, is that the…

When I was fifteen, I considered a theory: it is possible to assign a numerical value to two people in order to measure how much they care about one another. In total, the two numbers would add up to a percentage of one hundred. The…

“God is too big to fit in one religion.” It it is a beautiful paradox of how much hate and love can come from having a faith; it can cause war but also save lives. Religion is a vehicle for so many causes; it is…

I shop at the local thrift store often. I know its six sections of racks and shelves as if they were in my own closet. I don’t shop there for financial reasons, nor do I shop there for trendy fashion finds. I shop there for…

As a toddler, days at Grandma’s house were a colorless blur of television and snacks–that is, until naptime. Once the clock struck noon, I scuttled promptly into my aunt’s room and jumped under the covers, eyes screwed tightly shut in semblance of slumber until I…