Hometown: Mytilene, Lesvos, Greece

High School: Public school, 43 students in graduating class

Ethnicity: White

Gender: Male

GPA: 4.0 out of 4.0

SAT: Reading 730, Math 780, Writing 750

ACT: n/a

SAT Subject Tests Taken: Mathematics Level 2, World History, Latin

Extracurriculars: President of Student Council, member of the Mytilene Tennis Club, leading actor of the high school drama club, founding member of the New Mytilene Philharmonic Orchestra, participant in the Comenius EU Student Exchange Program

Awards: Bronze Medal in the National Mathematics Olympiad, Diploma of Merit in the National Philosophical Essay Contest, Diploma of Distinction in the National Young Business Talents Economics Competition, Diploma of Merit for the Highest GPA in Class, first place in the essay contest for the selection of the Greek team in the Euroscola Program of the EU Parliament

Major: Social Studies

College application essay editing

It all began one day in June 2004. It was the end of the school year and everything was covered in a veil of idleness. For my classmates, this season of chirping cicadas was a time for games by the sea. Not for me. I just wanted to bury my nose in my books and devour the Atlas of Empires I had recently acquired. My electronic encyclopedia would come next, and anything else that would give me the one thing I most desired: knowledge.

While flying with the wings of imagination, my mother came to me and lovingly said: “Now that you are older, it’s time you learnt more about your grandparents’ place, which is why we decided to vacation in the village.” My sobs still echo in my ears as I stir up the recollections lost in the depths of my memory. Although I had travelled to the ends of the earth through the pages of National Geographic, never before had I left my comfortable corner for long. I was afraid, but the decision was final.

Before long I found myself in the waters of a wonderful new world, but I did not rush to enjoy the freshness of its revitalizing currents. Instead, I naively asked grandpa: “Where’s the library?” He looked into my eyes and said: “Out there. I may not know much, but remember these words: read as much as you like and make me proud, but don’t forget that the greatest book is the world around you, the one you must understand and feel.” He then took me by the hand and led me to the neighborhood square where the children were playing and said: “Live your childhood now, before it’s too late.”

This was my first encounter with a different philosophy of life. I found it strange how those children, free of any anxieties, turned every second of their time into a spontaneous ode to joy. Eventually I was allured by this newfound carefree spirit. I allowed myself to have fun and twirl in the energy of restless companionship. This is more or less how I spent that summer, and the summers after, each of them an oasis of relief that gave me the necessary strength to get through the following year.

Idleness never got the better of us; were always coming up with imaginative ways to make use of our creative bent. We sat under the Aegean sun and watched the boats entering and leaving the port; we built humble wooden shelters, explored abandoned mansions and held our own Olympic Games, using ribbons as prizes and barrels as podia. We felt the pulse of nature and wandered paths in the countryside, united always by the bonds of solidarity and a sense of collectiveness.

Nothing is the same anymore. Now slaves to the conventions of adult society, some work to help their parents and others, tormented by the inhumane examination system, are striving to get into university. I am certain, however, that a new and better chapter in life filled with experiences, intellectual challenges and cosmopolitism is about to open. But I cannot help but wonder what happened to the halcyon days at my childhood haven in Arcadia. Did they die?

The answer is no. They live within me, as an integral part of the mystery known as the human spirit. How could their invaluable teachings be lost? They have taught me to respect diversity, engage in dialogue with it, demonstrate sportsmanship, build relationships on trust and share in the joys and sorrows of my fellows. I learned to appreciate the value of aurea mediocritas before learning about it from Aristotle, and realized that man is a plus que machine, before learning about it from the thinkers of the French Enlightenment. Above all, I now devote myself to something because I love it and not because I expect to gain from it. In the end, grandpa was right.

REVIEW

Thomas uses this essay to highlight his intellectual curiosity, his descriptive writerly talent, and his awareness of how learning occurs in a variety of different ways. These are three key attributes a college might look for in its potential students. The piece makes two turns (a realistic number for an admissions reader to track): the first from a youthful preference for bookish knowledge toward the experiential learning he discovers on the summer vacations; the second to reconcile that new interest with societal constraints that value only conventional learning. In doing so, Thomas offers a subtle challenge to the workaholic, high-achieving culture that is motivating other, perhaps less authentic, essays and resumes submitted by others. That critique could come off as shrill or self-righteous, but by anchoring his position in an earnest childhood memory, it seems entirely authentic.

One can imagine how well this essay might fit into a broader application: highlighting how Thomas’s summer résumé items were more personal than preprofessional; demonstrating how his academic achievements are inflected with an inherent passion. We see that con- nection illustrated in the essay’s brilliant close, in which Thomas uses a set of parallel constructions to unify his intellectual Greek and French studies with the experiential knowledge he treasured in those childhood summers.

From 50 Successful Harvard Application Essays, 5th Edition edited by the Staff of the Harvard Crimson. Copyright (c) 2017 by the authors and reprinted by permission of St. Martin's Publishing Group.