University of Southern California Undergraduate College Application Essays

Beep. Beep. I opened my eyes, turned my head to the right, and saw the spiky graph on the little monitor that told me someone was alive. I looked at my body and saw the wires stuck to it, which informed me that the beeping heartbeat was mine.

I...

Artistically, I'm a bad postmodernist: I've never been able to look at a painting of a potato and discern the meaning of life hidden within its brushstrokes. Somehow, though, I found myself inside the world-renowned Museum of Modern Art,...

Zipping through the tiled halls, I glance back and grin. I grab her hand, and we soar through an arch of fluorescent-lit stores, gliding past stands selling cheap accessories in our clunky rollerblades. We stop, resting our feet, and scope out our...

On the 23rd floor, in the midst of darkness and a sea of repetitive buildings, I breathed freely through the footage I was editing. I was inhaling fear and exhaling joy as I trimmed through the videos in symphony with the emotions of the scene....

97%. That is the survival rate for thyroid cancer. It’s the first thing I looked up after my diagnosis. I felt like something inside me shattered. I told myself I could live with that because, statistically speaking, I would be okay.

However, my...

Paper plates. It was always the favorite medium for my five friends every Saturday morning. Through connections with a certified neurologist, Kyung Il Park, I helped to develop an art therapy program for children and adults with special needs....

I am always interested in making something radically new out of an ordinary idea. As I explored different styles and media at the Orange County School of the Arts, I became an artistic nomad, seeking for something new each and every step in my...

It was uncomfortably hot, when we climbed the last bend of the mountain; another 25 minutes added to the 2 hour drive from base camp- an excruciating journey. I was leading an expedition in Almora, a rugged terrain known for its dangerous, steep...

It’s 6am. My alarm clock squawks at me to wake up. With legs aching from practice, arms tired from shooting drills, and head throbbing with pain from only sleeping four hours, I squint at the illuminated red numbers, contemplating whether or not...

I hate playing baroque music. The urgency, the false sense of drama imbued in unnecessary ornamentation, the singular melodic idea, the abrupt changes from loud to soft...none of the characteristics of baroque music appeal to me. I find myself...

To fully comprehend me, one must comprehend the people I care about. Cross, a cheerful, flamboyant coworker of mine, puts nearly 100% of his $9.00/hr earnings toward supporting his unemployed grandmother and younger brother. I drive Cross to and...

When I was six-years-old, my favorite animal was the lobster.I had read that lobsters are immortal and have perceived them as magical creatures. My world changed when we had lobster for dinner. Why had the book deceived me?

Ten years later, the...

I plugged in my earbuds, carefully looking to both sides of me as I ambled down the narrow hallway of Corona del Sol. Upon realizing that I was alone, I burst into singing — completely forgetting my world as I giddily cavorted my way to class.

I...

As a child, I did not engage in painstaking searches for perfectly symmetric four-leaf clovers in the garden. I watched pepper shakers topple over with seething delight and I chased black cats into forests eerily illumined by incandescent shades....

Picture me: the morose toddler, hands balled into fists as my mother pulled a wide-toothed comb through my full, coarse hair. Tears stung my eyes but I did not cry even when my mother held a ball of knotted hair in her palm, a triumphant grunt...

"Do you speak African?" I feel the question sear into my flesh; a malignant, flaring rash. With a measure of composure that has taken several years to acquire, I invariably reply: "Do you speak North American?"

A baffled expression. A hint of...

Sitting on the chair, waiting for my dentist, I turned towards the scream next door, noticing a little girl cowering in fear because she didn’t want to have her teeth removed. I observed with admiration as the dentist soothed her fears and pains...

When I tell people I work at the library, they often respond with open jaws and comments ranging from, “Oh my gosh—dream job!” to, “That must be boring, huh?” While the tasks are routine, each shift jostles my curiosity awake.

To be clear, I am...

Run, run, run! I Ignoring the fire in my limbs and the thunder in my chest, I forged ahead at a greater speed. I remember crumbling to my knees on grassy turf. I remember my friend, Simi, emerging from the shadows of the gazebo with a look of...

On a Wednesday afternoon in May 2020, two partners and I are preparing our AME 331 final presentation for planning roads in cold mountainous areas—a dream inspired by my memories of not having such needed roads in rural China. Together, we sit in...

“Ridiculously disrespectful,” I mumbled to myself. I’d just seen two students stealthily looking into their desks, utterly disinterested. Shocked by their distracting whispers, which rose above the sound of my voice and the harsh scratches of my...

I tried to distribute the weight of my body evenly in the soles of my Crocs. My hair was contained in a cap and my mouth was smothered by a cotton mask. Each time I exhaled, the mask filled with the smell of the coffee on my own breath. The...

“The 1880s are when art gets interesting,” the boy in the airport agrees with me. He had just sheepishly told me he sometimes goes on and on about art to his girlfriend on FaceTime, which was probably a subtle clue for me, but I was nonplussed and...

I made sure no one saw me as I rounded the dark corner.

“You got the stuff?” a hurried voice whispered.

“I got the stuff. You?”

I replied to a shaded figure, which in turn hastily nodded.

A quick exchange occurred, and two figures dispersed from...