University of California, Los Angeles Application Essays

“Frances Perkins!” I yelled as our car sped past the U.S. Department of Labor Building. Constitution Avenue! The Smithsonian Museum of American History! I was in utter ecstasy as I walked past the flag that had inspired the national anthem and the booth that hosted…

“How’s your brother?” “He’s dead.” Silence filled the line.“Wow…that’s awful. It’s no wonder you’re afraid,” I replied. There wasn’t much I could do. This teen was struggling with drug abuse and feared leaving a gang whose members murdered his brother. But candidly speaking, I wasn’t…

Acting has always been one of my passions. Upon entering high school, I was excited to continue the acting I came to love in middle school. Unfortunately, I quickly hit a roadblock.As a freshman, I auditioned for the first play of the year, but I…

My fingers pirouetted up and down the fingerboard, spiraling faster than the notes running through my head. Every white callous and bloody blister had led up to this moment, as I could feel all those hours of repetition, struggle, and stumbling finally beginning to pay…

His skinny figure stoops and meticulously cleans and wipes each green Dong leaf, then puts it into an small pile. Afterwards, he takes out a basket of peas and grinds them till they are as fine as wheat flour. Each of his movement is quick…

I shiver with anticipation as the other nine finalists and I line up on the Portland Teen Idol stage. I’ve performed my songs to the best of my ability, and now I grasp the clammy hands of my talented neighbors, waiting to hear the results….

Home-schooled. For the longest time, I assumed that all children, like me, were homeschooled by their mothers. I attended Chinese school and art classes, but my mother delivered my first history lesson around our kitchen table––with an Odyssey globe and a trip to the library….

The incessant, monotone beeping of the heart monitor was Public Enemy #1. It alone was not the problem. Rather, it meant that I had found myself in a hospital room again. First it was my grandma, then my dad, then my grandma again. Each time…

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…

Like every other year, a spectrum of color surrounds me on the first day of 2009. My January 1st mornings have always been shared with Grandma, a 91-year-old woman who still manages to scurry through the kitchen preparing the brunch that stares at me from…