Background: I wrote this letter to the MIT Admissions Committee in January of 2008, shortly after I sent in my RD application itself. I believe that this is one of the most honest and open pieces I’ve ever written, and I like to think it really helped my application. Either way, sending it paid off, because I am now an MIT ‘12er!
Dear MIT;
Firstly, I would like to thank all of you for taking the time to read my application; I know you’re probably swamped what with thousands of applications you’re currently attempting to wade through!
However, I wanted to write a small and sincere letter that may or may not affect my admissions decision. Whatever the outcome, however, I am glad that I have even mustered up the courage to apply. It’s been a rough road; many darts were thrown before I landed on the college that seemed like my Holy Grail – MIT – but now that I’ve found it, I plan to continue my quest to reach it.
In this letter, I’d like to elaborate on a question that I was surprisingly not asked at my interview: the classic question, “Why MIT?”
To be perfectly honest, I’m not like other students who have dreamed MIT, lived MIT, and breathed MIT since the 2nd grade. Up until 9th grade I’ve always wanted to be a software programmer. My family and peers did not encourage ambitious endeavors; even though my parents are “stereotypically Asian” (as my friend likes to put it), they have never pushed me to apply to schools like Harvard and Yale. In fact, if I hadn’t done my research when I entered high school, I would still be thinking that UTSA was one of the crowning glories of the USA college system.
How very sheltered my life was.
Sometime early my 10th grade year I fell under false delusions that I would enjoy myself thoroughly in a foreign language major because it was “easier” than a major in the sciences. I could already speak English, Chinese; was learning French, Japanese, Portuguese; and had previously studied Spanish. So why not? For about two years I submerged myself in the world of the foreign tongues, mastering with ease all the grammatical forms and vocabulary that was thrown at me.
But something was wrong. Terribly wrong. I looked at my class schedules. I saw it full of science courses and only a few foreign language ones. I thought about a career with a single major in one foreign language and shuddered; did I really want to spend my days doing translation? Would I enjoy only being able to repeat others’ words, living without the beauty of new creation and new discoveries?
Junior year started, and I found myself loving the maths and sciences with a renewed vigor that hadn’t been kindled since elementary arithmetic class.
I immediately switched my planned major back to Computer Engineering.
When I tell people I am applying to MIT, they stare at me as if I had said I would jump off an airplane with no parachute. My school is fairly new – we just graduated our alpha class last year – and the most prestigious college anyone was accepted to was Rice. Schools in the Ivy League and equivalents were sacred items not to be touched, not to be aimed for, not to be mentioned.
My entire life, I knew nothing about competitions like AIME, USAMO, Siemens, etc. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to participate; if I was offered the opportunity I would have gladly taken it. In my small world, opportunities to participate in large contests are scarce and far-between. The only academic contests our school is familiar with would be the Intel science and engineering fair and UIL contests, both of which I have participated and placed in. I applied to summer programs last year, and was accepted into Stanford’s, but my parents were unable to pay the costs since I was only given a $500 “scholarship”, so I ended up not attending. I desperately wanted to attend MITES, but it took me until April to convince my parents to let me travel anywhere by myself for the summer, and by then the MITES deadline had already passed. Instead, I spent my summer developing my science research ideas, honing my web design skills, performing volunteer work, and preparing for the school year ahead.
Perhaps the most shocking thing, though, is my willingness to apply to a college whose applicants have scores beyond my range. I’ve read stats from students who are deferred with 3.9 GPAs, SATs in the upper 700s, and several national awards; to tell the truth, I feel a little intimidated by the vigor of these students’ resumes.
However, I’m not dead; I haven’t lost hope yet. Despite my lack of affinity for timed tests, I have a life, a purpose, and a passion. I’m not a generic test-taking, application-filling, college-pleasing machine; I am myself, a mosaic of dreams. I am a scientist, an inquisitor, a phantom of the stage, a diplomat… but most of all, I am an MIT hopeful.
I want, more than anything, to attend a college that, for once, will allow me to see the world outside of the closed doors I’ve lived behind my entire life. Ever since my Physics class last year and Computer Science class this year, I’ve felt a thrill when I think about working together to solve problems. In CS, whenever one of our classmates finds a problem with his programs, we all gather around the monitor and put all of our knowledge together; thinking as hard as we possibly can to come up with the perfect solution. The feeling of satisfaction that accompanies a success is priceless, but the happiest feeling is the fact that without any one of the contributors, we wouldn’t have finished quite as fast; everyone’s talents, pieced together, created something amazing that we were all able to learn from.
In MIT, I want to feel this same exhilarating sensation. I want to be astonished by the rigor of the coursework, to meet people who share my passions for the maths and sciences, to pursue the scientific research ideas I haven’t been able to continue due to lack of resources in my area, to learn from world-renown professors, to stay up late working on problem sets together with my fellow classmates… to suffer, to laugh, and to live together in a community that helps itself via common threads and interests.
I may not have perfect SAT scores. I may not be a national winner of a math competition. I may not be the valedictorian of a class of 800. I may not be what you are looking for.
… but I just want to let you know that I am always eager to meet and overcome any challenges you may present me. Bring it on.
Just a few words from a passionate, courageous, and ambitious student in Texas;
- Vivian A. Lee
c/o Vista Ridge High School
be.ambitious@yahoo.com
http://crimsonietta.net