Smith College Undergraduate College Application Essays

"Angelina, you're 18 going on 45" - that's my best friend, Bailey's, favorite expression. What most people don't understand, though, is that those qualities of mine that make me seem older are simply the result of a rather unusual upbringing. Of...

The city spoke softly to me in cool, cosmopolitan tones. It invited me to explore each avenue full of boutiques. It dared me to bite into each warm, fresh croissant from the boulangeries that I passed. It pulled me through the bustling streets...

It was two weeks before my 8th birthday and my little head was overflowing with dreams of Barbie’s, toys, cakes, and princesses. The invitations had been mailed, the pink cake had been ordered, and I was convinced that my princess-themed party was...

Being of Norwegian ancestry and a New England breeding, I could not have appeared more out of place in this squalid, rain-ravaged corner of Addis Ababa, Ethiopia. Laden with sagging boxes and garbage bags brimming with children’s pajamas, I felt...

One hundred sixty-two days ago I was counting the days I had left to live. “Impression: Large right ovarian mass with cystic appearance periphery and solid tumor in the center…” I trembled as I heard every word of the MRI report that my mom had...

I had thought of living in simplicity and happiness before, but I never understood its significance until I heard this sentence. “I will not allow you to come to my house. I am poor.” I stared and looked at him as my eyes filled with tears,...

“It’s okay! Just breathe!” I said to myself in an attempt to suppress my unfaltering anxiety. I restlessly skimmed the pictures in a Clifford the Big Red Dog book, typical of me during independent reading. All the while I kept my head down,...

I cannon-balled into reading in first grade and have not emerged to catch my breath yet. Reading is the medium through which I grow. Books have swept me light years and alternate realties away, but have always returned me with more understanding...

In checkers, players must strategize and plan in order to make their moves and win the game. This is what my dad taught me when we played, almost every day after school. After I learned the basics, it was up to me to figure out how to beat him. He...

One of the first dances I ever performed was a trio with my two best friends: a frivolous, cheerful number with far too many sequins, gauzy handkerchiefs disguising the awkwardness of our skinny arms. Backstage, we trembled in terror at the...

Truth be told, I have never been an animal person: never the type to visit zoos or plea with my parents for a pet. When my cousin’s dog had seven French bulldog puppies this year, I was not excited. I begrudgingly offered to help her feed the...

It was my turn to speak.

The Korean girl across the table and I had spent the past hour in a back-and-forth of stilted conversation. Our pre-collegiate institute had demanded that all disciplines “mingle,” and the silence told a story of two...

In kindergarten, I was a cyborg. At least, with wire glasses and a clanky metal leg brace, my classmates thought I was. They thought cerebral palsy was a disease that made you part robotic; mostly because I led them to believe that. For in-school...

“Miss? Why are you here?” I look down to see a little child tugging on my pant leg. The children at the Educational Theatre Company (ETC) think I am older than I am, so I often get questions like these from students who think I am wiser than my...

“We all need mirrors to remind ourselves who we are. I’m no different.”

The movie Memento closes with Lenny saying this. Given the chance, I would star in Memento. Lenny’s mirrors were his memory devices, but my mirrors are more tangible. When I...

When I was younger, I treated my bilingualism like a spy gadget. I wore my second language comfortably hidden with a hint of pride. My Spanish proved to be a useful tool for gleaning insight into different cultures. My ears caught a snatch of a...

My journey as a violist began seven years ago, when I made a trip to my local music center and the director searched around in a cluttered inventory closet, pulling out a case. Inside lay my first viola. It was slightly off color, worn down and...