Punk Rock Philosopher
I am on Oxford Academy’s Speech and Debate Team, in both the Parliamentary Debate division and the Lincoln-Douglass debate division. I write screenplays, short stories, and opinionated blogs and am a regular contributor to my school literary magazine, The Gluestick. I have accumulated over 300 community service hours that includes work at homeless shelters, libraries, and special education youth camps. I have been evaluated by the College Board and have placed within the top percentile.
But I am not any of these things. I am not a test score, nor a debater, nor a writer. I am an anti-nihilist punk rock philosopher. And I became so when I realized three things:
1) That the world is ruled by underwear. There is a variety of underwear for a variety of people. You have your ironed briefs for your businessmen, your soft cottons for the average, and hemp-based underwear for your environmental romantics. But underwear do not only tell us about who we are, they also influence our daily interactions in ways most of us don't even understand. For example, I have a specific pair of underwear that is holey, worn out but surprisingly comfortable. And despite how trivial underwear might be, when I am wearing my favorite pair, I feel as if I am on top of the world. In any case, these articles of clothing affect our being and are the unsung heroes of comfort.
2) When I realized I cannot understand the world. I recently debated at the Orange County Speech League Tournament, within the Parliamentary Division. This specific branch of debate is an hour long, and consists of two parties debating either side of a current political issue. In one particular debate, I was assigned the topic: “Should Nation States eliminate nuclear arms?” It so happened that I was on the negative side and it was my job to convince the judges that countries should continue manufacturing nuclear weapons. During the debate, something strange happened: I realized that we are a special breed of species, that so much effort and resources are invested to ensure mutual destruction. And I felt that this debate in a small college classroom had elucidated something much more profound about the scale of human existence. In any case, I won 1st place at the tournament, but as the crowd cheered when my name was called to stand before an audience of hundreds of other debaters, and I flashed a victorious smile at the cameras, I couldn’t help but imagine that somewhere at that moment a nuclear bomb was being manufactured, adding to an ever-growing stockpile of doom. And that's when I realized that the world was something I will never understand.
3) When I realized I was a punk rocker philosopher. One summer night, my friend took me to an underground hardcore punk rock show. It was inside a small abandoned church. After the show, I met and became a part of this small community. Many were lost and on a constant soul-search, and to my surprise, many, like myself, did not have a blue Mohawk or a nose piercing. Many were just ordinary people discussing Nietzsche, string theory, and governmental ideologies. Many were also artists creating promotional posters and inventive slogans for stickers. They were all people my age who could not afford to be part of a record label and did something extraordinary by playing in these abandoned churches, making their own CDs and making thousands of promotional buttons by hand. I realized then that punk rock is not about music nor is it a guy with a blue Mohawk screaming protests. Punk rock is an attitude, a mindset, and very much a culture. It is an antagonist to the conventional. It means making the best with what you have to contribute to a community. This was when I realized that I was a punk rock philosopher.
The world I come from consists of underwear, nuclear bombs, and punk rockers. And I love this world. My world is inherently complex, mysterious, and anti-nihilist. I am David Phan, somebody who spends his weekends debating in a three piece suit, other days immersed within the punk rock culture, and some days writing opinionated blogs about underwear.
But why college? I want a higher education. I want more than just the textbook fed classrooms in high school. A community which prizes revolutionary ideals, a sharing of multi-dynamical perspectives, an environment that ultimately acts as a medium for movement, similar to the punk rock community. I do not see college as a mere stepping stone for a stable career or a prosperous life, but as a supplement for knowledge and self-empowerment; it is a social engine that will jettison us to our next paradigm shift.
First, what works here?
Most critically, this person has something to SAY. They’re saying things that other students are not saying, that other adults aren’t saying. Things like “I am an anti-nihilist punk rock philosopher.” and “The world is ruled by underwear.”
Try to have something to say in your common app essay. It can just be one sentence; it doesn’t have to be a treatise on Ideas Never Spoken by Humans.
Also great in this essay is the strong sense of identity we get from this kid. He IS a punk rocker. He IS a philosopher. But he also is NOT giving up, because he’s an anti-nihilist.
We can also tell that he’s a writer and a good public speaker. We also know that he has guts because he wrote about underwear in his college essay to top universities!
We get the feeling that he’s willing to try new things. He went with his friend to a completely unknown (to him) punk rock show. He openly met people there and engaged with them enough to now describe them to us.
In you own essays, try to really show identity and personality. Show the reader how you interact with others, what details you focus on in new situations, and what you truly believe about the world.
And he goes against expectations. In a purely stereotypical sense, you expect the Asian boy to be good at piano and math and interested in computer coding or pure math. There’s nothing wrong with being that person, but colleges see that applicant SO many times, every single year. It’s a stereotype for a reason.
This kid really goes against that. He’s completely outside the cookie cutter, and that’s more engaging. If you’re part of a group with a heavy stereotype, use that to your advantage! Build your college resume to go against that stereotype, and write your essays to showcase how far outside the cookie cutter you stand.
Now, what doesn’t work here?
The first paragraph is rough. It’s the worst kind of laundry list of accolades. And yes, I know, he’s doing that to create the big moment of contrast. But, if he had been my student, I would have strongly recommended he cut down that first paragraph, and here’s how:
I am on Oxford Academy’s Speech and Debate Team, in both the Parliamentary Debate division and the Lincoln-Douglass debate division. I write screenplays, short stories, and opinionated blogs and am a regular contributor to my school literary magazine, The Gluestick. I have accumulated over 300 community service hours that includes work at homeless shelters, libraries, and special education youth camps. I have been evaluated by the College Board and have placed within the top percentile.
We don’t need the specific debate divisions. We don’t need the very common and generic details about his community service. And we don’t need to know his SAT rank at all because we are the college admissions committee! We’re going to be looking at that information as part of his application anyways. We’ll know if he was a National Merit Scholar and if he got a 1500+. So, we can cut a lot of that paragraph down to make the “boring” intro much, much shorter.
Apart from that, a few places do get a bit cliché. In this case, we don’t know which colleges this kid got into, nor do we know anything else about his application (grades, SAT score, activities list, awards, etc.). So, I wouldn’t think of this as the Holy Grail of all essay examples. I think the things above are good, and I think there are things to be learned as well.
The final sentence is pretty cliché, for example, but it is supported by the uniqueness of the punk rock ideas. I think this part works particularly well: “I want a higher education. I want more than just the textbook fed classrooms in high school. A community which prizes revolutionary ideals, a sharing of multi-dynamical perspectives, an environment that ultimately acts as a medium for movement, similar to the punk rock community.” It clearly communicates that he isn’t treating college like a stepping stone (which is important to nearly all elite colleges), and it shows that he is connecting his idea of college to his perspective in punk rock. That’s useful.
I think the “world is something I’ll never understand” paragraph is the weakest here because it doesn’t tell us anything. And it sounds a little bit defeatist. I wouldn’t recommend a direction like that for the Ivy League, generally. Try to understand just one teeny tiny bit of the world and show it to your reader. Don’t just give up and say you can’t understand anything at all.