Hometown: Cary, NC

Year: First-Year

College: Pierson

Major: Global Affairs; Ethics, Politics & Economics

Extracurriculars: Matriculate; Y Fashion House

Sample college statement

Profile

Grace Jin has what she called “one of those fairy-tale college stories.” She became enamored with Yale early on in her teenage years. During her sophomore year of high school, Grace attended a debate tournament at Yale. She had participated in many tournaments in the past, and they often involved the same scene: a ridiculous amount of high-school kids transplanted onto a new college campus, struggling to find their way around.

But the students at Yale altered that formula for Grace, even as she felt intimidated taking her first steps into the storied campus.

“Yale students were even standing on Old Campus to help show us around with a map,” she recalls. “They would be so overwhelmingly friendly.” Grace visited Yale four more times for tournaments and tours. Every time she went back, she felt the same sense of community reiterated once again. She applied for early action to Yale and was accepted to her dream school.

Grace, now a sophomore in Pierson, is double majoring in global affairs and Ethics, Politics, & Economics. Despite the heavy course requirements of her two majors, Yale’s liberal arts curriculum allowed her to explore classes from “all over the board” in her first year.

Grace went to a small suburban private school in North Carolina with only one hundred students in the graduating class, half of whom were also on the debate team. For Grace, debate was a major part of her high school life, as she spent around twenty hours a week prepping or debating. Though debate represented, Grace says, “85 percent” of what she did in high school, she decided to try out new passions at Yale.

Now Grace spends much of her time with Matriculate, a nonprofit that provides college advising for low-income, high-achieving students. Grace has also taken on a large role in  Y Fashion House, a student organization that throws biannual fashion shows for undergraduates. In addition, she also works with Havenly, a branch of the Yale Refugee Project that sells refugee-produced snacks in Yale butteries (subsidized cafes in each residential college).

The switch from a full-time commitment to her high school debate team to spending time on a variety of extracurriculars contributed to what Grace called “a first-year identity crisis,” where she—as do many other students transitioning into Yale—questioned how she should feel about her new identity in college.

However, one interest has stayed constant for Grace: baking. To her, baking is the “perfect mix of chaos and tranquility” and the “experimentation allows me to be creative and adventurous in a low-stakes environment.”

This exploratory phase and search for new extracurriculars in college was initially scary for Grace, as so much of her high school identity had been built around debate. She explains that many students coming into college may have not yet identified their core passions, making it difficult to define the next phase of their academic career.

Although Grace now spends her time in college on an assortment of activities that conform to no uniform theme, she says that does not bother her. All that really matters, she claims, is that she finds all of her newfound activities to be interesting—and, she keeps learning about herself along the way.

Grace’s essays include her Common App personal statement and three of her Yale supplemental essays.

ESSAY 1 (COMMON APP):

Personal Statement

Google Buzz (a short-lived, kid-friendly, Twitter-esque social-messaging platform) emerged from the depths of the Internet when I was in sixth grade, and ever since I’ve dabbled in the world of instant messaging. Without a cell phone to keep in touch with my middle-school friends, I had plenty of time to perfect my internet personality. The words I use, the punctuation I prefer, and the emoji I employ have transformed over the years, but one aspect of my textual appearance has remained consistent: I like to write in lowercase. Something about these subordinate symbols attracted me, and still does. When I’m asked why I prefer to never capitalize, it’s difficult to give a simple answer. Maybe it’s an issue of aesthetic attractiveness—my brain prefers uniform, curvy contours to large, blocky edges. I’m also an advocate for linguistic equality, and certain letters do not deserve preferential treatment in seemingly arbitrary circumstances. Lowercase letters are underestimated: they’re just as powerful as a larger figure, and are often undervalued due to their size. The symbolism behind my symbols matters too, and I relate physically to a lowercase letter—small and petite, but able to pack just as powerful of a punch. My preference might be quirky or superfluous; however, these diminutive shapes have begun shaping the way I view the world.

My affinity toward lowercase is emblematic of my personality. Specificities are what I do best, perfecting facets of my life no one may ever see for my own satisfaction. Each novel I read is flagged with five different colors, and noteworthy passages are highlighted in the same color. Pink (foreshadowing), blue (symbolism), yellow (shocking details)—the system has been in place since I knew how to annotate. I’ve kept every case, ballot, and flow from my debate rounds in a meticulously neat file box, sorted by month and tagged with a little summary of the topic. Focusing on the minutiae allows me to perfect what I do, and truly cultivate results I can appreciate. No one may ever see those details, but I pride myself in focusing on the small things just as much as the large ones.

Using little letters also builds a pattern of simple but effective communication. I maintain that the substance of your words and actions are far more important than the embellishments, and the way I debate reflects that mentality. Often, novice debaters are surprised at the lack of “debate speak” I use during my rounds, as I limit my cases to straightforward vocabulary. Verbosity isn’t necessary for efficient persuasion, and I focus on perfecting the nuances of my arguments, not inflating the jargon. Instead of convincing a judge through the flowery language that debaters often use in place of convincing facts, I make sure that my arguments do the decoration for me. By founding my style on small, clear-cut details, I can streamline my approach to build connections that last beyond just a positive first impression. Lowercase letters don’t demand the spotlight; instead, their impact derives effortlessly from how meaningful, low-maintenance, and necessary they are.

As communication becomes more important to me, so do my letters. What began as a quirky habit with little characters now represents my character. By taking the time to un-embellish my text messages, I learned to concentrate on an authentic message rather than its packaging.

ESSAY 2 (YALE SUPPLEMENT):
Reflect on your engagement with a community to which you belong. How do you feel you have contributed to this community?

As the unofficial “Team Mom” of the Cary Academy Speech and Debate team, my role is a little bit like a strict but loving mother. The 116-member team I co-captain spans all four grades, a melting pot of athletes and painters and musicians, all united by a common love for intellectual discussion. It’s difficult to stay authoritative and maternal simultaneously, but I’ve learned to separate formal announcements from personal heart-to-hearts. My legacy to the program may be most visible through trophies and titles, but what I’ll remember is far more sentimental.

Debate is often like an abridged version of real life: tumultuous, sudden, unexpected. Whether someone is fretting over the result of a round or where to grab food, I always come into every tournament prepared. Armed with portable phone batteries, excess pens, patience, and an arsenal of nutrition bars, I’m ready to help in any adversity. This motherly nature extends past the realm of tournaments into the hotel rooms and plane rides, and I try my best to create a bond through conversations with each and every one of my teammates. From the gregarious wrestler and the reserved novelist alike—they know I’m always there for a bit of mothering.

ESSAY 3 (YALE SUPPLEMENT):
Write about something that you love to do.

Baking is my autonomous sensory meridian response—the quiet thud of flour hitting a bowl, the tap-tap of cracking an egg, the splash of vanilla extract—those sounds all have a therapeutic effect on my mind. In times of stress or crisis, I measure, melt and mix to manage my maladies. Like the steam erupting from freshly risen cupcakes, my problems seem to evaporate when  I can divert my focus to creating a finished, delicious product. Characterized as the most finicky dessert, macarons have taught me an important lesson on mistakes: even when the end result drastically differs from the anticipated outcome, the results can still be incredibly sweet. In reality, baking demands exploration, risk-taking, and creativity, and isn’t the exact science it’s often seen as. Through baking I can truly experiment, combining rhubarb jam with matcha powder to create a delightful flavor. After a day of baking, I like to share my masterpieces with friends and family, eager for feedback. Taking their opinions to heart, I can reenter the kitchen, ready for my next experiment.

ESSAY 4 (YALE SUPPLEMENT):
Why does Yale appeal to you?

My first visit to New Haven I attended a debate tournament on campus. I anticipated being the laughingstock of the Yalies, who watched suited high schoolers fumbling with campus maps inundate their campus. Instead, I was helped by a group of friendly students who pointed me in the right direction, even offering Atticus as a relaxation spot. Despite being completely new to New Haven, I felt right at home around students that love to share what they learn. An environment that sees obvious outsiders but welcomes them as peers, Yale exudes an intellectual yet humble ambiance that I admire.

From 50 Yale Admission Success Stories: And the Essay That Made Them Happen, edited by the Yale Daily News Staff. Copyright © 2020 by the authors
and reprinted by permission of St. Martin's Publishing Group.