College admissions officers love originality. This Oli student used his personal essay to make a statement.
College application essays are all about balance. Make the case for your admission without becoming a braggart. Touch on your achievements without rehashing your resume. Be original without relying on gimmicks. It’s easier said than done, which explains why college hopefuls spend so much time crafting essays that reflect who they are at heart. Oliverian student Taran Clammer worked hard and had fun writing his college essay. His intellectually curious poem that promises to brighten up any admissions officer’s day, even while getting across what makes Taran, well, Taran.
Twas a november morning, when on a white ground
A young man was walking, ah, here he is now;
Dawn’s gale was quite crisp as it blew from the west
Yes winter had come, as the youth could attest.
Though his fingers were chilled and the wind bit his spine,
The cold could not cloud what now formed in his mind.
Yes a question had sprung and begun to take shape:
“What mechanism catalyzes the compound strokes of a two stroke engine,
And what function does each of these compound strokes take?”
The lad quickened his gait and broadened his stride,
He trudged and he traipsed till at last he arrived.
And the shivers that shivered right down to his core,
Began to abide as he stepped through the door.
Just then, as he stopped and took note of the time,
The clock on the wall struck fifteen till nine!
“By golly!” He said, “I’m about to be late.
But I’ve something to ask and it just cannot wait!”
So huffing and puffing he ran up the stairs,
To the dining hall hoping to find someone there.
A person who might know a thing or a few,
About engines and some of the things that they do.
So he sat at a table of teachers and peers,
Cordially waited to ask for their ears,
Their dialogue paused and the moment arrived.
He spoke and from all their reactions contrived,
That as smart as they were, and quite equally wise,
They were lost for an answer, hard as they tried,
No none of them knew much at all on that score;
What a curious question and what was it for?
Feeling discouraged he got up to go,
His question unanswered, his boots full of snow.
When suddenly who should walk into the room,
But an old man who knew all the things engines do.
For when something broke down or rejected to start,
Well, this was the man who would take it apart.
Fix what was wrong in an hour or two,
And when all back together it worked just like new.
So the young man stood up, waved the old man aside.
Said, “Excuse me good sir if you’re not occupied,
May I ask you a question, you may find it wry,
But so far I’ve found none who could help clarify.”
The man in his overalls, jacket ,and boots,
Was fond of this boy, thought his question a hoot,
Accepted and promised to have a response,
Though after hearing the question, was at quite a loss:
T’was four-strokes not two that his knowledge involved,
So it seems this lads question would be left quite unsolved.
Now it this point, the boy, who was quite late to class,
Had about given up on the question he had.
With a slog in his step he walked back down the stairs,
Walked into his class and sat down in his chair.
With a quick spurr of hope the boy asked on last time,
Raising his hand, taking precious class time.
The teacher then paused, listened, and roared!
Laughing so loud his laugh shook the whiteboard.
He collected himself, and returned to his work,
With no answer at all, just a lingering smirk.
So the moment subsided, the class came to an end.
The lad and his teacher faced each other again.
And after a chuckle, a sigh and a grin,
The teacher told all the secrets, of the two-stroke engine
You may very well find it quite strange and inane,
This question of engines that filled the lads brain.
While a very strange question it is I’d agree;
Might I ask that you to look past the question and see,
That it could have been physics or geometry.
It could have been iambs and anapests three.
Little matter it is what the matter may be;
It’s existence itself that so interests me.