500 Words or Less

by Lauren Monahan

  Just the idea that people will sleep on the back streets of LA just to get a cheaper price of my clothes would be the most amazing feeling in the world. I want that sentiment, I want people to go more than out of their way to take part in my clothing line or my product, whatever it may be. I want to change one person’s outlook on life through my brand. That is all I want, and if I can do that with just a logo tee that they are wearing on their back, I have achieved my dream.

  Nik G.

  Accepted:University of Virginia, University of California Berkeley, University of California Los Angeles, University of California Santa Barbara, University of Southern California

  Attending: University of California Berkeley

  Food of Gods

  I have eaten Mutter Paneer in 3 countries, 5 states, and countless restaurants. Its familiar taste has greeted my tongue under the incandescent city lights of Seattle, along the serene cobblestone streets of Versailles, amidst the raucous London nightlife, and through the sweltering heat of Dallas. Its coalition of flavors confounds me; a voluptuous symphony of spices orchestrated to the utmost precision, a concerto for the senses. Yet, sadly, I am perhaps one of the only students at my school who was ever savored its piquancy. It was upon my introduction to Indian food as a mere toddler of two that I came across this exquisite North Indian recipe. Composed of a thick orange curry complemented by peas and, of course, paneer (compact cheese-like cubes), Mutter Paneer has remained a long time favorite of mine. But Mutter Paneer is perhaps more than just a food to me. It is a tradition, a symbol of my family loyalty, and a reminder of all the priceless memories that I have shared with them over the years.

  My family, unlike most, is entirely vegetarian. I was brought up that way and am somewhat proud to say that I have never eaten meat. Naturally, our options for available food choices are very limited, which is why we tend to eat out at many Indian restaurants whose menus are predominantly vegetarian. Every Sunday after church, my family goes out to eat at an Indian restaurant; sometimes in little India off Black Mountain Road, or other times at our favorite restaurant, Indian Tandoor, and every weekend everyone knows what I will order – Mutter Paneer. I have gotten used to being one of the only white families at such restaurants and find my comprehensive knowledge of the recipes served there to be quite comical. The waiters are always amazed at our astonishing familiarity with the menu items, and in fact on one occasion, one even said to me, “You know what Mutter Paneer is?” It has become somewhat of a tradition in my family for us to try an Indian restaurant everywhere we go and so I have sampled Mutter Paneer from across the globe on every vacation we have taken. Sharing similar tastes in unique food choices has helped me to grow closer to my family, and being an only child, I have developed a strong association with my parents and believe that I will grow up to value family connections with just as great importance as my parents do with me. To me, Mutter Paneer is more than just a trivial buffet item or starter course, it is a bond to the people I love and the memories I’ve shared with them. Wherever I go, I need not a picture or souvenir to remember them by, but merely to walk into the nearest Indian cuisine and savor a few delicious bites of my favorite dish – Mutter Paneer.

  Anonymous

  Attending: Palomar Community College

  I am a "Yerd”. I didn’t mean to become one; it kind of just happened. Kind of like how Alice in Wonderland fell down a rabbit hole. Do you know that story? Where Alice meets all kinds of characters and has the time of her life? But her’s was just a dream.

  Last year I started the most important experience I’ve ever had in my life; yearbook. As soon as I stepped into room 900, I knew I belonged there. Multiple rows of brand new iMacs filled the classroom and technical terms relating to yearbook plastered the walls; a new car smell filled the air.

  I was engulfed into a domain of photography, design and copy. I was placed into the unfamiliar world of design my for my rookie year. I learned a substantial amount that year: like how to remain calm when being scorned by my editor, what a pica is, and how to take charge. Staying late on school days for deadlines, taking over a fellow photographer’s job, and learning consistency with all my designs got me to where I am today: the Editor in Chief of the 2012 yearbook. Being editor of “The Book” was always a dream of mine since working on my junior year book, but I never thought it was possible with only one year of experience under my belt. I used to be the girl that sat in the very far corner, isolated from all classmate conversations, but because of yearbook, I now sit in the front where all the action happens. I am the person that fifty other students look to for direction. I’m sitting at the head of a table at the tea party.

  Yearbook journalism opened my eyes to a place I felt comfortable and could express myself while not being ridiculed for doing so. A big class room environment; like yearbook can build self esteem. The definition of a yerd is anyone that lives, breathes and cares about the yearbook world, and I just happen to be one. I have given a new image to the yearbook staff member. I love yearbook, but I’m still the typical California girl. I love to shop. I surf and have a tan through winter. I spend a sufficient amount of time with my family and curling up on the beach with a pile of magazines as the hot sun warms my skin. While some just skim through the many glossy pages of a magazine, I analyze them. I look for new design elements, layouts, and photos that grace the pages of magazines. I started analyzing magazines as soon as I started yearbook. That’s a major part of creating a great book: absorb your surroundings. I’m Alice; but wearing sunglasses and a tan.

  Picas. End sheets. Grids. These words might sound like a foreign language to some, but they are currently what I eat with my tea and pastries. From being in yearbook, I was able to learn the printing language of a graphic designer and get a real taste for what it would be like to be a real Editor in Chief. With only a few weeks as the “EIC” of The Stampede, I have being able to command, as the queen of hearts a small army of students by delegating tasks accordingly, and making rash decisions with budget, and diffusing situations with a Mad Hatter run amok. The La Costa Canyon Yearbook made me realize my own dream. A dream of what I am capable of; a dream of being an Editor in Chief. Alice never had it so good.

  Daniel O.

  Accepted:Butler University, Purdue University, Arizona State University, and Northern Arizona University.

  Attending: Butler University.

  What “Led” to my Success

  After owning O. Inc., which has been a successful company for over forty years, I have decided to write an autobiography about my life and accomplishments. My success came from someone whom I looked up to when I was much younger and before I got into business. I attribute my life story to an average visit from my grandparents almost fifty years ago.

  On this day, my grandfather Opa Dick told me, “Daniel, I see tremendous leadership potential in you. In fact I think you could one day be the Commandant of the United States Coast Guard.” I was surprised to hear these words because I never before had thought of myself as a leader. His observations and complement helped me realize not that I necessarily wanted to join the Coast Guard, but that charismatic leadership qualities rested within me. My grandfather backed up his bold statement by saying, “I have always seen you as a good listener. It takes a good listener to be a great leader. One who leads without listening is simply a manager. One who is a manager can organize and manage but cannot lead.” Because my grandfather has always been an important role model in my life, I paid careful attention to what he said.

  My grandfather is merely an “average” person who successfully commanded people as a captain in the United States Coast Guard. I felt honored that my grandfather would think that a pimple-faced teenager could eventually assume a position higher than he ever attained during his thirty-one-year career in the Coast Guard. Of course, I went on to start my own company instead of joining the military.

  As the founder of a highly successful business, I was provided the opportunity to share my leadersh
ip skills with my management team and employees. These skills have prepared them to continue my legacy and successfully run the company following my retirement. Their success will be the result of the strong leadership and management skills they accumulated during my tenure and how effective they are at developing the next generation of leaders and managers to address future growth and challenges.

  The following chapters of this autobiography will address the challenges I faced during my career, and how my Opa’s words of wisdom and my leadership skills allowed me to adapt and change with the various economic factors that affected the growth of my company. I hope that my readers will benefit from my experiences and apply them to their own life’s challenges.

 

 

  Nicole D.

  Accepted: UC San Marcos, UC Merced, University of Arizona, Sonoma State, University of San Diego.

  Attending: University of San Diego

  I whipped my head around at the sound of the buzzing line. “Fish on,” I yelled as I

  weaved through the rods on the boat. My dad tugged his line out of the water and

  threw the fighting belt to me. I fastened it around my waist and grabbed my rod. Every

  muscle in my arms immediately grew tense as I fought against the pull of the fish. I let

  out a sigh. This was going to be a fight; a long, difficult fight.

  6:00 am: It was still dark outside, yet I found myself standing on a cold beach

  watching the tiny waves lap against the hulls of the beached boats. We boarded the

  fishing panga and braced ourselves for the rough start. We were jolted backwards as an

  old truck pushed the boat into the shallows of the Sea of Cortez. Our captain started the

  engine and we made our way out to the shark buoys where hopefully plenty of fish

  awaited us.

  After hours of cruising around the buoys without a single bite, I started to get

  impatient. My dad was convinced that there was a monster of a fish in the depths

  waiting to be hooked. “Whatever Dad,” I muttered to myself as I turned my back to the

  rods. But before I had time to take a step, the line started ripping out of the reel. A fish!

  It was as if a lightning bolt struck the boat; everything was in motion. I grabbed the rod.

  This fish was mine and I wasn’t about to let it get away.

  45 minutes later, my arms were shaking, and the fish was still in the water.

  My dad offered to take the rod to give me some rest. “No way,” I yelled, “I’m doing

  this!” After a while longer, my dad leaned over the side of the boat. “Color,” he

  exclaimed, “it’s a Dorado…a big one!”

  I was exhausted, but bringing in this fish would definitely give me the day’s

  bragging rights. I mustered all that I had left, closed my eyes, and reeled in. Before I

  knew it, a 40-pound Dorado that measured up to be roughly my height was in the boat.

  The satisfaction of winning that fight and the smile on my dad’s face as he took a picture

  of the fish and me will stay with me forever. I didn’t give up and my hard work paid off.

  Fishing has taught me many life lessons. Life, like fishing, is about being alert

  to opportunities that arise, and sometimes making your own opportunities by using

  the experience and knowledge you have gained. You have to put yourself into a

  position to succeed and be willing to struggle in order to overcome challenges that

  you will encounter. When I spend time deep-sea fishing with my dad, these lessons are

  reinforced. Although not every fishing trip is a great success, I’ve learned that if I stay

  confident and prepared, eventually good things will happen.

  University of Chicago: Spanish poet Antonio Machado wrote, “Between living and dreaming there is a third thing. Guess it.” Give us your guess.

  Accepted: University of Utah, Brigham Young University, University of California- Davis, University of California- Santa Cruz

  Attending: Brigham Young University

  Forgiveness

  Between living and dreaming, there is a third thing: moving forward. Like most children, I had difficulty learning to ride a bike. Eventually, with my father’s help, I got up, and proudly road up and down my neighborhood flaunting my skills. However, stopping wasn’t as easy, so my joy ride ended when I tumbled to the ground. Before I could call out for help, my father came to my side, picked me up, and put me back on my bike, helping me move forward.

  Many years later, my father picked me up from piano lessons in his little white Tacoma, which alarmed me because usually my mom did that job. As I climbed into the truck, he asked me with a calm voice, "Wanna get an ice cream cone?" On the drive over, my only concern was the choice between Oreo Cookie Surprise and Double Brownie Blast. It never crossed my mind that my father had much more life-changing issues on his mind. In my excitement I eagerly glanced up at him, expecting to see the same giddy anticipation reflected in his eyes. But suddenly, he wasn’t the same father. I noticed his playful face forming wrinkles, especially at the corners of his eyes. His eyes looked worn and tired. It almost shocked me; for a split second, he turned into a different man: older, and clearly more stressed. Thankfully, this ghostly version of my father trailed away as quickly as he had appeared, and the familiar flicker in his eye reassured me that I was his pride and joy.

  As we neared the ice cream shop, he swerved to the side of the road, and for the first time in my life, I saw my father cry. I didn't know what to do, so I sat in stunned silence. The whole time my mind raced. But for whatever reason, all that came to mind was some Goo Goo Dolls song. When he finally composed himself, he shot me a look that paralyzed me. My already aching heart leaped out of my chest onto the pavement, committing suicide in front of traffic.

  "Tailor, I did something very wrong. I’ve had an affair with a lady for a long time now. It's not your mom's fault and I cannot justify it. I just wanted to let you know why I won't be around as much anymore and why things are changing."

  "It’s okay dad, everybody makes mistakes. I forgive you."

  My immediate reply shocked me. But as I said them, I knew I had never spoken truer words. I knew that my father and I had traded positions. Instead of him helping me, like the time when I fell off my bike, it was my turn to help him get on the right path to enable him to move forward. He was the one who needed help. He needed my forgiveness. My dad had to humble himself like a child, and I had to grow up for him. I had to move forward.

  At first, I believed that I forgave my father to save him from the despair and chains of his actions. I didn’t want him to be bound to the thought of his daughter losing all respect for him. I realize now the real reason I forgave my dad so quickly is that it was time for me to grow up. Through this moment not only did I gain maturity, but also a new perspective. I can now look at a situation, past all the hardships of the present, and see a bigger picture in the future. I see different paths of choices, and contemplate which choice will end up with the best results. I knew that if I didn’t forgive him, my family would be more broken apart.

  The most significant thing I learned, is that no one is going to push me to reach my goals. It’s something I have to do myself. Only I can hop back up on my bike, and move forward.

  Tips for writing Essays

  · Don’t miss the deadline

  · Be yourself

  · Don’t forget to answer prompt

  · Don’t procrastinate

  · Revise, revise, revise!

  · Evidence

  · Spend time in the summer for ideas

  · Have different people edit your essays

  · Make it personal

  · If you are writing about an experience, include in your essay how it will affect you in the future in additi
on to how it affected you in the past.

  · Don’t put in big words just to sound smart.

  · Be descriptive.

  · Don’t be afraid to ask for help

  · Write an essay no one else could. It’s YOUR essay.

  Tips from Miss Monahan

  After ten years of reading personal statements, here is what I’ve seen too much of…

  A lack of evidence. In first drafts, the main problem I see is that many students just ramble on makingclaims without specific evidence to prove their answers. Don’t just tell me that you want to be a doctor because you love health and helping people. You need to provide an example of when you have show cased a love of health and helping others so you have something to analyze.Many students opt to provide a brief anecdotal story as their evidence. The best ones blend strong story-telling technique and solid analytical skills.

  “This” as in is“this was a pivotal change for me” or “this helped me” what did? Was it the lack of creature comforts that forced you to re-consider what is important? Wasit the understanding that some things are harder for you than for other people?I’m incredibly suspicious of your writing ability as soon as you use “this”when you ought to be more specific.

  Not answering the question. While your evidence for answering the question may come in storyform, you still need to provide a concrete answer to the question, and all of your evidence should be explained in terms of how it proves your point.

  Avoiding the “how”.If a question asks how something has affected you, don’t just give the event and the result. Explain the process. Step by step. The analysis here may provide insight into how you process life and make decisions. Don’t short change it for a shorter word count.

  Waking up/Taking off on a plane/Landing on a plane/Walking into a new room. Over half of the first drafts I see begin here. If you want to stand out, avoid cliché, and provide a more dynamic read,jump right to the heart of the event that typifies the answer to your question.