Sample essays from Johns Hopkins

Check Johns Hopkins / 约翰霍普金斯大学 for the introduction of this school.

To Johns Hopkins, your essay is a place to show the AO who you are and who you’ll be in the community. It’s a chance to add depth to something that is important to you and tell the admissions committee more about your background or goals. Below you’ll find selected examples of essays that “worked,” as nominated by our admissions committee. In each of these essays, students were able to share stories from their everyday lives to reveal something about their character, values, and life that aligned with the culture and values at Hopkins.

These selections represent just a few examples of essays we found impressive and helpful during the past admissions cycle from the Class of 2028. We hope these essays inspire you as you prepare to compose your own personal statements. The most important thing to remember is to be original as you share your own story, thoughts, and ideas with us.

In this essay, Stella dives into her journey in the art world and the challenges that came with it. (629 words)

The Art of Imperfection

By Stella W., ’28

The splash of color that engulfed the wooden tables and bar stools first lured me into a local art studio next to my parents’ favorite supermarket. At seven years old, even I could read the big red sign: “Painting Lessons.” I peered through the studio’s glass windows and watched students smear turpentine across blank canvases, create initial sketches in vibrant base coats, and add finishing details with miniature brushes. I was hooked.

After starting the class myself, I fell in love with this meticulous but gratifying process. Eventually, painting and drawing consumed my spare time—I was committed to replicating the shapes and colors I observed in animals, people, landscapes, and objects on canvas. In those early years, I loved every moment and teachers praised my rapid progression. I didn’t know then that my aspirations to perfect my skills in this craft would lead me down many roads of frustration.

I remember the struggle vividly: as I stared blankly at that wooden model of a hand for what felt like forever, feelings of frustration, disappointment, and desperation blocked any efforts to continue manipulating the shadows, highlights, and shapes on my paper. I’d spent hours trying to successfully depict this hand model, but my hard work felt meaningless. That day, I left class unsatisfied with my abilities, and distraught by this challenge. Never before had art been a source of such distress, and at a young age I didn’t know how to grapple with these feelings.

After taking a break for a couple days, I found myself curious to try again. This time I accepted that what I was striving to convey on paper might not manifest itself on the first, second, or maybe even third attempt. After struggling with several different versions of this drawing over weeks, I finally felt satisfied with my depiction of the human hand. Not because it was the best demonstration of my artistic ability, but rather because tackling a skill that challenged me so thoroughly gave me pride unparalleled by my other works. It became one of my favorite pieces.

The hurdle I needed to overcome was not the task itself; it was being able to continue working at something that didn’t come easily. My struggle to illustrate a hand was not a test of my abilities, but rather of my patience and perseverance.

This past summer, I audited a data science class at UC Berkeley while I interned for a graduate researcher. The only high schooler surrounded by college engineers, I was stretched beyond anything I’d delved into in high school: math concepts I had never seen before, a new computer programming language. When I first started tackling the problem sets, I often found myself staring at the page for hours. I started to get frustrated that I was not grasping new concepts fast enough to efficiently work through the course.

But I reminded myself it was not the first time I found myself challenged by something I was passionate about. As with many art pieces in the past, I continued working on the labs with the understanding that they were likely not going to successfully run after my first few—or many—attempts. After completing a few more labs, problems started to become more familiar and easier to handle, and eventually, I started applying the skills I developed in the course to create real data sets that tracked boat emissions in the Bay Area.

This work challenged me more than any math or science class had ever challenged me in my academic career, and as a result the work was that much more rewarding. As frustrating as these challenges are, I am inspired to leap towards them, because they have instilled in me the confidence to view challenges as opportunities for growth.

Admissions Committee Comments

In this essay, Stella dives into her journey in the art world and the challenges that came with it. She highlights the joy she found in painting at a young age and the ways this relationship evolved as she grew. Stella shows us how accepting imperfections and being patient allowed her to embrace her craft. She applies these lessons to different settings with new challenges. Her ability to recognize obstacles as opportunities for growth will serve her well at Hopkins, where she will be surrounded by new peers and opportunities and continue to learn in dynamic ways.

Anjali uses her essay to share her experiences with making miniatures. We see how this passion influences everything she does. (642 words)

Finding Purpose in Trivial Projects

By Anjali V., ’28

Occasionally, a wooden board that comes in as packaging makes me think, “That would make a great base for a diorama.” Then, there’s a concept that comes from a building, street, or room I’m frequenting, someplace that is brimming with interesting detail yet not overwhelming. The challenge of shrinking down detail in a scene excites me, and it’s also delightful to imagine what the scene would look like miniaturised.

During the summer of 2020, with a piece of packaging MDF board in hand, that place happened to be my own home. Although a scale model of a house I’d just moved into seemed frivolous and unnecessary, I sat down with paint, board, and more time than I’d ever had over the next 3 months to work on something I felt genuinely motivated to complete. With nothing else to work on, I measured, constructed, and assembled the house—piece by piece, floor by floor. When I was done, I still had no use for my creation, and friends and family were confused as to why I’d worked so hard on it. “This looks great, but did you do this for a school project?” they’d ask.

Although it seemed trivial, I made more miniatures—of our dining room, my street, my bicycle, and even my dustbin. Each project came with its own challenges. I wanted to make functioning gears on a tiny cardboard bicycle, but how? I’d make frustrating mistakes, but I found my way, crocheting bicycle chains that created enough friction to pull cardboard gears. With every project I completed, I had to learn how to work with a new material or adhesive—sometimes, pieces fell apart or paint would flake off. The issues were what made projects fun; there were simple joys in solving these miniaturised problems, and I took special pride in subverting expectations of fragility by making pieces as sturdy and durable as I could. Although it was sometimes tempting to forfeit projects that went on for months, my inexplicable fascination with making models continued even as I became much busier than I had been back in 2020.

As I wonder why miniature making has become such an integral part of my routine, I’ve begun to notice just how much I’ve gained from it. In scaling down each scene, there’s been an unanticipated amount of calculation and problem solving. In working through misplaced structural walls or disproportionate elements, there’s solutions to be weighed and decisions to be made about when it’s time to start over. Even my smallest project, the miniature dustbin, was made out of curiosity and a desire to recreate the pedal mechanism. Miniature making has given me a greater attention to detail, as I try to look for details that make a subject appealing: I learnt much more about my new home in an attempt to recreate it. As I walk along a busy street, I can’t help but notice that wire fence bears a striking resemblance to a loose knit, or that a fallen twig would make the perfect mini tree. Strangely enough, searching for solutions in these creative places floods back when I work on research and programming for my computational biology internships, observing patterns and breaking down problems into miniature tasks.

Most importantly, in painting individual bricks and sculpting rice-grain sized statues, I’ve realised what I’m capable of accomplishing out of determination. Each project I begin has no foreseeable end date, and intricate detail can become just as excruciating when things don’t seem to work out. When I gift a miniature to family or friends, it’s the patience and resilience involved that expresses how much I care.

My dioramas may be collecting dust on a shelf now, but each ‘trivial’ project is still the result of working hours—a testimony to patience, effort and everything else it has helped me achieve along the way.

Admissions Committee Comments

Anjali uses her essay to share her experiences with making miniatures. She builds a miniature model of the house she moves into and begins to see the world with greater attention to detail. We see how this passion influences everything she does. Anjali reflects on the joy and patience she developed from making dioramas. This introspection helps the admissions committee see the strategic way she approaches problems and her resilience in the face of challenges. We get a strong sense she will feel at home on our Homewood campus, where our students create solutions using multiple perspectives.

Nancy’s essay details the responsibilities she had at a young age and her resulting spirit of exploration. (641 words)

Korean Sticky Notes

By Nancy P., ’28

A myriad of sticky notes adorn our bedroom door, each bearing a telling Korean word. Opening the door, I repeat them aloud.

Hal-in: Discount.

My mom once joked, “Nancy, sometimes I feel like you’re the adult and I’m the child.”

Sure, I was a kid living a double life as my mom’s unrelenting financial advisor, spending Saturday mornings marching around H Mart, seeking hal-in and calculating the cost of items making their way into our cart. $9.99 for five mangoes and $5.50 for strawberries? Inflation at its finest. Get the apples on sale instead. Chocolate Pepero—No. Unveiling my prized stack of carefully collected coupons at the register, I eagerly watched the price go down with each swipe.

Jeonlyag: Strategy.

Looking back, my mom’s words revealed an undeniable truth. Growing up low-income, I understood that finances were going to be tight. My mom, then-unemployed, scrambled to find a job and worked tirelessly to pay the rent for our two-bedroom apartment. Eager to ease my mom’s sudden burden as our sole provider, I felt compelled to approach every expense with a jeonlyag, ensuring every dollar was spent to its maximum potential.

Eon-eo: Language.

As the clacking of our calculators totaling rent and various other expenses consumed our days, I realized that we had quantified almost every aspect of our life in pursuit of optimal value and utility. When I tried to reconnect with my mom on the unquantifiable aspects of our lives, my mouth went dry, unable to find the Korean words and phrases to express myself. Even having grown up in a bilingual household, my Korean eon-eo skills had fallen behind as our financial situation devolved and I transitioned to the role of financial advisor and translator for my non-English-speaking mom. I wanted to bridge this eon-eo gap and learn more about her upbringing and my own heritage.

Starting with the basics, I listened to songs much too young for my age, Pororo’s catchy lyrics ingraining the Korean alphabet into my mind. My mom’s handwriting served as a template as I shakily wrote down Korean vocabulary onto sticky notes, plastered along our bedroom door. I noted almost every unfamiliar word or phrase I encountered in my daily life, whether in my mom’s `80s ballads that rotated through her playlist or in the Korean news radio. With time, sophisticated words and phrases, sprinkled in with traditional and modern slang, expanded throughout the walls of our home.

Daehwa: Conversation.

As my collection gradually took over our apartment, my daehwa with my mom also grew. As we stroll aisle to aisle at H Mart, I ask my mom to share her childhood stories growing up in Seoul. She recounts visiting street food tents and points out her favorite comfort snacks, nostalgic memories replacing each sticker value. I find myself racing through the aisles, eager to see more of her world through Kyoho grapes, dried squid, and advertisements of `80s manhwa cartoons, labeled in both Korean won and American dollars—a culmination of my own bicultural identity. Beyond the stocked shelves lining the grocery store lay experiences, moments, and relationships that I couldn’t quantify.

Tamgu: Exploration.

Hundreds of Korean sticky notes hold memories that vividly remind me that life is too short to view the world through the lens of price tags. My journey to learning Korean helped add another dimension to our grocery excursions that re-introduced me to a world in which stories of warmth and love cannot be measured in dollars and cents. As I push my shopping cart through H Mart’s aisles, I discover invaluable experiences that connect people of different backgrounds birthed thousands of miles apart. Now I continue to navigate the aisles of life, determined to step beyond my role as a financial advisor, though it remains a part of who I am as I continue my own self tamgu.

Admissions Committee Comments

Nancy’s essay details the responsibilities she had at a young age and her resulting spirit of exploration. She shares memories of supporting her mother through the aisles of H Mart, and we learn about the strategic thinking skills she builds. During these trips, Nancy connects with her Korean identity through her mom’s recollections of her childhood in Seoul and later learning to speak and write Korean. She shows us she is curious and eager to uplift those around her. These qualities will help her thrive on our Homewood campus, where the student community is constantly supporting one another, celebrating different perspectives, and creating spaces of belonging.

Sarah chronicles her experience as her household “handyman” and the versatility of skills she acquired over the years. (647 words)

Being the Handyman

By Sarah D., ’28

I’ve been the “handyman” of the house for as long as I can remember. I started out, armed with a roll of duct tape looped around my chubby child arms as I marched about the house, waiting for my mother to call on me. In those days, I didn’t know much about the technical details but knew the phrase “duct tape fixes everything.” My dad would say it as I helped my mother fix tears in folders, boxes, and even a picture frame.

I picked up sewing around third grade, when my younger sister had started to get a bit too rough with her stuffed toys. I had gotten the gist, practicing on scrap fabric, before opening shop to the slew of well-loved but torn stuffed toys me and my sister shared. My stitchwork became so good, my mother would ask that I mend and alter some of her clothes. I remember the feeling of the pin pricking my finger every time I let the needle slip, but I also know the feeling of accomplishment as the mended toys were returned to my sister, and the altered clothes fit my mother like a glove.

Carpentry became my next venture, thanks to our two large dogs, Jake and Elwood. They were lovable oafs that would try to peek through the fence at passersby. However, since they were the size of grown men, they wore down the boards and eventually broke through the fence. My father and I spent the weekend removing worn boards, measuring, obtaining new wood, and skillfully cutting and nailing replacements. The project taught me to handle larger materials. I even challenged myself to build an outdoor table and seat using the remaining boards, taking care to stain the wood and sand sharp edges. I felt a jolt of victory when my dad had sat down and the wood had not collapsed beneath him.

Entering high school, my desire to continue building led me to the school’s robotics team, introducing me to 3D modeling and printers. Proficiency in CAD and the school’s printers fueled my ambition to expand my skills beyond school projects. After extensive research and persuasion, my dad invested in a 3D printer, enabling me to create replacements for furniture, hooks, and even crafting personal items like a sock drawer organizer and a cat toy. Requests from friends, like modeling and printing a vacuum switch replacement, added a new dimension to my handiness.

My handyman journey extended to auto mechanics in sophomore year when I took the reins of the family’s aging 1993 Ford F250. Despite its challenges—poor mileage and years of wear and tear—I refused to let it fail. Not long into driving the truck, the speedometer stopped working, and there was a clunking sound when it drove. After heavy inspection, we found that the speed sensor had come apart and lodged itself in the rear differential. As my father was getting old and not as spry as he used to be, he relied on me to open the differential and grab the piece, before flushing out metal shards and installing a new sensor. A year after the sensor failure, the suspension started to fail, requiring new shocks. The truck was a cycle of things breaking and being fixed, but it also taught me the more common skills of routine oil changes and how to jump start the battery.

In the end, my journey as the household “handyman” has been a continuous evolution. From early days with duct tape to mastering sewing, carpentry, 3D printing, and auto mechanics, each skill acquired has not only enhanced my technical prowess but also cultivated a sense of responsibility and determination. The diverse challenges I’ve tackled have molded my growth, instilling a resilient spirit that thrives on the joy of learning through hands-on experience.

Admissions Committee Comments

Sarah chronicles her experience as her household “handyman” and the versatility of skills she acquired over the years. As each dilemma arose, from a torn stuffed animal and damaged fence to a broken hook, Sarah learned how to repair it. By taking us through each skill she developed, Sarah shares personal anecdotes that demonstrate her sense of community, service, and family. We see adaptability as she picks up new mediums and an eagerness to learn through hands-on methods. In each of these projects, Sarah also shows the innovation and resourcefulness that can be present in seemingly ordinary tasks. This innate curiosity will be invaluable at Hopkins where students seek new perspectives, ideas, and solutions.

Caroline’s essay focuses on their experiences developing and accepting their identity. We see how Caroline navigates the challenge of being themself while also trying to fit in with their peers. (641 words)

To Stand Out or Fit In

By Caroline j., ’28

Unicorns, rainbows, pink, and glitter.

Those elements were a commonality in my wardrobe, as I packed for a two week sleepaway camp the summer after sixth grade. The possibility of redefining myself in a new environment filled me with excitement as I dreamed of being the unique, yet “popular” girl instead of just the “nerd.” However, upon arrival, that dream was shattered as my fellow campers regarded me with an air of condescension that I didn’t understand. Perplexed, I asked one such camper what was wrong with me, and she said, “The way you dress. And that you ask too many questions.” That summer camp marked the birth of an internal battle between my lifelong desire to stand out and my newfound desire to be accepted in society.

At first, my desire to fit in dominated this conflict. I rejected anything resembling my past wardrobe and surrendered to neutral colors and ripped jeans. However, the confines of conforming soon proved too agonizing, so my naive self devised a plan—I would be my “weird” self and accept that I would never fit in.

Guided by this framework, I began to wear unique clothing again; highlights of my wardrobe include various flowy vintage skirts, countless thrifted grandpa sweaters, and my favorite piece, a purple tank top with a star that I crocheted myself. On top of that, I cut and dyed my lengthy hair, once an anchor of my femininity and normalcy. As the war in my head waged on, standing out began to prevail, nourished by the unexpected empowerment it supplied me.

Despite embracing authenticity, however, the unease brought on by my dilemma still remained. Reflecting on this, I came to realize that self expression was like a colorful Band-Aid for my insecurities. While it boasted originality and spunkiness, ultimately what I lacked was self love. I couldn’t truly embrace being myself if I didn’t love myself and believed I deserved the love of others. Fighting my insecurities began with realizing that standing out and fitting in are not mutually exclusive. We all need and deserve a community to fit in with—not to conform with—but to find a place in, just like each unique piece of clothing has its perfect place in my closet.

For me, these communities came from the people and passions I engaged with. I introduced middle schoolers to the mindblowing world of coding through my passion project, Code to Create. After experiencing the exhilaration of digging into real world issues in debate club and Youth in Government, I championed my voice in our student newspaper, the Noctiluca. I put my face in front of the entire school by co-founding a video broadcast series, Spark Shorts, where I hosted segments including Teach-It Tuesday (a segment where anyone can teach anything), Spit It Out (a game show encouraging authenticity), and Oblivious Oliver (a story based segment). At state honors orchestra, I ran a meme page amassing likes and laughs while we triumphed through music together. On the science side of things, a joke on a late night call with my friends materialized into reality when we founded Quantum Astronomical Science Club, a science club with a fancy name.

Although these ventures may seem spontaneous and scattered, they collectively taught me the pure joy that collaborative learning and creativity sparks. Awed expressions as my peers and I learned about Quantum Physics together, celebratory chatter after a successful printing of a newspaper issue, triumphant fist pumps when a student’s code ran correctly—those electrifying moments are what I want to live and impart upon others for the rest of my life. In the end, my internal battle between standing out and fitting in was resolved not through one side’s victory, but through compromise. In my quest to stand out, I had unknowingly found just what I needed—a way to stand out and fit in.

Admissions Committee Comments

Caroline’s essay focuses on their experiences developing and accepting their identity. We see how Caroline navigates the challenge of being themself while also trying to fit in with their peers. After reflecting on authenticity and self-love, Caroline better understands who they are and what matters to them. This leads them to dive into their passions and find various communities with shared values and interests—from coding and broadcasting to quantum physics. These experiences, born out of a deeper understanding of their identity, ensured Caroline could have the most meaningful impact on themself and their high school. As we build a class of students at Hopkins, this essay helps us to visualize how Caroline might engage with those around them to make an impact in our community.

Calla highlights her early wonder by dreaming of future expeditions and playing them out in her backyard. As Calla grows, so does her curiosity and ambition. (650 words)

A Growing World

By Calla M., ’28

Ever since I was little I’ve been captivated by the world around me: the squirrels in my backyard, constellations that adorned the night sky, and trees whose roots form communities spanning hundreds of miles. Every week at the library I’d check out as many animal fact books as I could carry; books became my way of exploring the world until I could experience it myself.

Once I learned about the life of Jane Goodall, I dreamed of following in her footsteps: going away for years to live in the wild and study animals. The grassy Savannah, coral reefs deep underwater, and the jungles of the Amazon called for me to discover their secrets. I spent hours crouched in the grass or behind trees with an iPad, waiting to get the perfect shot of a grasshopper or cardinal for my own books that I would write about my travels to the great unknown land of my backyard.

Since then, I’ve changed in many ways: I’ve moved to New York, made new friends, and dyed my hair, but I never lost my imaginative spirit and love for learning. Going to a small school there were few options for Science electives, so I sought other ways to explore new areas. I discovered our school had a Science Olympiad team and knew I’d feel right at home; It strengthened the sense of wonder studying science brought me when I was younger. I could be an Astronomer exploring the creation of the universe, a Forensic Scientist examining evidence to solve a crime, or a Geologist studying the rocks and minerals that form our home planet; Every day presented me with new challenges and adventures.

Through all the time I spent with my teammates studying and building together, we became an incredibly close-knit team. It was the first time I made friends who shared the same nerdy interests I did. Some of my favorite memories in high school were running tests to perfect the design of our car, studying astronomy facts by pretending we were Jeopardy contestants, and the excitement we all felt seeing our teammates succeed. I’m fortunate to have worked with so many incredible people: I got to appreciate the unique perspectives and strengths of each person, and I’m proud to say they’ve become some of my best friends.

In astronomy, my partner Isabella was amazing at memorizing facts and understanding the intricate details of a topic whereas I was good at understanding and applying general concepts. Dividing the work allowed us to support each other’s weaknesses and let our strengths shine. By communicating to understand how we could support each other, we became partners working together towards a common goal instead of just two people who both happen to be participating in the same event, allowing us to accomplish more than we ever could have on our own.

I used to think the key to success was personal dedication because I was used to working alone to accomplish my goals. I believed the team would succeed if each person became an expert in their events, but it was communicating with each other and learning to work well as a team instead of as individuals that allowed us to succeed No great feat or discovery was the work of an individual. From flying to the moon to sequencing the human genome, it took thousands of people working together to make it possible. I never would’ve made hundreds of amazing memories or gained a whole new perspective on the world we live in without my teammates.

At eight years old I thought I had the world at my fingertips, but as I’ve grown, my horizons grew with me. Although I’m no longer traveling the world with nothing but my trusty books and imagination, I’m still always seeking out my next adventure, and now I know I’ll have my teammates by my side to support me.

Admissions Committee Comments

Calla highlights her early wonder by dreaming of future expeditions and playing them out in her backyard. As Calla grows, so does her curiosity and ambition. She joins a team of dynamic peers within Science Olympiad. Through these experiences, Calla celebrates the strengths of those around her and realizes the importance of teamwork. She also demonstrates her multifaceted interests, and we can envision her succeeding in an interdisciplinary and collaborative environment like our Homewood campus. This desire to pursue discovery in a community of diverse thinkers aligns with our university’s mission to create knowledge for the world.

Pursuing My Passion in Research

By Klaire B., ’25

My lifelong dream has been to help and inspire humankind to the greatest extent of my abilities. During high school, I decided that a career in science was the best way for me to reach and help as many people as possible. Earning an education at a highly selective institution like Johns Hopkins would give me the most beneficial options for attaining my career goals and making my lifelong dream a reality.

As an aspiring scientist, Johns Hopkins stands out to me as a university that is at the forefront of many scientific breakthroughs that will help society. Finding the solution to pressing scientific problems has been my main focus and a passion of mine during my undergraduate studies. Organic chemistry is my top concentration for research. Following my successful completion of the course, I was selected as the embedded tutor (teacher’s assistant) for the class the year following due to my passion and prior experience as a supplemental instruction leader.

Once I transfer to a university, I hope to take my knowledge of organic chemistry and expand my mastery of research laboratory techniques. Analyzing NMR and IR spectroscopy samples to identify structural properties was the highlight of my time in organic chemistry, but I was unable to use these skills for research since little to no research is done at the community college level. Johns Hopkins’ NMR Core facility is far more advanced with multiple instruments to examine compounds, giving its researchers a better chance to find solutions to the questions they’re asking. Undergraduate research programs like the Provost’s Undergraduate Research Award (PURA) give me the chance as an undergraduate to learn the skills and gain the experience needed to continue as a professional in the sciences. It would be the opportunity of a lifetime to be able to join and become one of the top scientific researchers in the world.

Coming from a small town in California, I believe attending Johns Hopkins University would give me the opportunity to branch out, experience different cultures, and meet people with new ideas and perspectives to help me explore my individuality. The inclusivity of this university appeals to me, a first-generation college student and woman in STEM. The ability to get hands-on experience and guidance from distinguished, supportive professors is vital for success at a higher level. As a First-Gen Forward institution, Johns Hopkins University offers a welcoming place for me and resources dedicated to my success. The constant efforts to uphold equity and the support offered to all the amazing women that have succeeded at Johns Hopkins gives me confidence that this is the right university for me.

Attending Johns Hopkins University would give me access to the resources I would personally need to succeed and give me opportunities to gain crucial experience to become a successful professional in the STEM career field. I have continued to master all of my STEM and general education classes while maintaining a 4.0 GPA and I hope to utilize my skills at the next level.

Admissions Committee Comments

Through her transfer essay, Klaire showcases her deep interest in advancing scientific research through her experiences at her community college and her future at Hopkins. Her curiosity led to her selection as a teaching assistant in her organic chemistry course, and she used that opportunity to further explore her academic passions. Klaire also highlights the role in which her identity as a first-generation college student has shaped her perspective. At Hopkins, she writes, she would not only grow as a scholar, but also as member of an inclusive campus community. The admissions committee can clearly identify Klaire’s match for Hopkins through her research mindset and value for diversity of thought within our community.

“My essay allowed me to show how I personally connected to the activities and organizations I was involved in. I demonstrated that each of my involvements was not just another activity to list, but evidence of who I am and why they are important to me. The prompt made me think more deeply about the reasons why I wanted to attend a highly selective university like Johns Hopkins. This gave me the idea to tie those important aspects of my activities to how I was qualified and why I wanted to attend this institution. ”

Klaire B.

How Hopkins Will Help Me Become a Better Mathematician

By Jorge A., ’26

Since elementary school, I have been fascinated by numbers. Determined to become the best at math in my class, I didn’t let anything get in the way of my accomplishments.

My hard work paid off, earning me one of the highest grades in the province on the University Entrance Exam in Spain. After serious thought, I took a risky decision: to pursue a college degree in the US. This choice surprised my family since even after a year of high school in England, I’ve always been very shy. I come from Tenerife, a small island where everyone is very close and friendly. But I knew that if I didn’t take that ambitious step, I would regret it in the future. Fortunately, my current institution gave me the opportunity to attend even though deadlines had passed. The small, liberal arts school allowed me to study math, but I am seeking more intellectual challenges.

I took the most demanding classes possible this semester, including Intro to Higher Mathematics and Electricity and Magnetism, which led me to discover new areas of interest and develop higher level skills. I joined the Math Research Team and the physics club, and co-founded the tennis club. I also worked as a network connectivity ambassador, discovering the engineering behind fiber optics and offering technical assistance to prominent economists at national conferences. I even had the chance to teach beginning piano lessons to three of my peers!

Now I want to deepen my advanced math studies, and Hopkins offers the expanded options I seek. My goal is to dedicate myself to math at Hopkins and ultimately pursue a PhD. I am inspired by the math club Ex Numera, where I will have the opportunity to participate in events and seminars given by Hopkins undergraduates. The abundance of math courses and specialties at Hopkins is truly amazing. I am attracted to advanced courses such as Mathematical Game Theory and Representation Theory.

I am also eager to follow the rich tradition of participating in research opportunities at Hopkins and working one-on-one with experienced faculty outside classes. In the Research Experiences for Undergraduates program, I can work closely with faculty such as Professors Savitt and Consani, who are experts in the field of number theory. I will deepen my knowledge on the subject and strengthen my connection to the math community at Hopkins. Furthermore, interdisciplinary studies are important to me, so I look forward to taking computer science courses such as Artificial Intelligence and Modern Cryptography, and economics courses such as Econometrics, to expand my academic preparation. Outside the classroom, I can teach young students the fascinating world of the sciences by joining the Applying Science with Kids community, and the Humanitarian Organization for Medicine and Equity to create educational opportunities through community work.

Transferring to Hopkins will allow me to become part of a world-renowned academic environment, where research is encouraged and I will be pushed to excel.

Admissions Committee Comments

Jorge’s essay provides the admissions committee with a detailed narrative about his lifelong interest in mathematics: how he discovered it, cultivated it, and pursued it to the highest level available. Through this essay, Jorge effectively connects that narrative to why Johns Hopkins is the logical next step for him to further his interests in math, contribute to the larger Hopkins community, and set himself up for success in the future. By discussing extracurricular and research experiences that he’d like to join in detail, the admissions committee can seamlessly visualize how Jorge will join and thrive in our collaborative, hands-on learning environment.

“At first, I was very unsure of what I wanted to write my essay about. I realized that I did not need to write about anything extraordinary; just something I was very familiar with and passionate about. For this reason, I chose to write about my interest in the study of mathematics—in particular, my curiosity for numbers and patterns. The purpose of this essay was to show the committee that the study of mathematics is not only an academic goal of mine, but also a way for me to interact with other people and contribute to the expansion of science in society.

My best advice for prospective transfer applicants as they approach their essay writing process is to create an outline before starting to develop their ideas. Also, if you feel that some parts of your essay don’t work, don’t get discouraged and start again; first drafts do not need to be perfect! ”

Jorge A.

Research as an Echo to Storytelling

By Summer Mai Li S., ’26

Growing up in a multicultural household, stories have largely shaped my childhood. My Jidu’s (grandfather’s) tales of sweeping date fields and the old tongues of Dongola served as focal lessons of my family’s Nubian history. Bedtime stories about my Great PaaPaa (grandmother), a Cantonese immigrant who raised three children in 1960s New Haven, Connecticut, introduced me to the profundity of Asian migrant identity. With age, these stories have continued to encourage a deep interest in the shared struggles and triumphs of oppressed populations—an admiration for the history and literature of families like my own.

Living in a society of constant political divide and civil unrest has prompted me to expand my knowledge of human rights and contribute to the tremendous worldwide efforts against social injustice. Namely, I wish to immerse myself in classrooms that help students acquire global perspectives and forge unique academic pathways. I am enthralled by courses that amplify repressed voices through surveying the ongoing legacy of Black, Asian, or Indigenous resistance. As an institution for interdisciplinary learning, Johns Hopkins University nurtures the exploration of said topics with course offerings including Black Against Empire and Modern East Asian Literatures Across Boundaries—curriculums capitalizing on narratives of fortitude and oppression. Beyond the classroom, I would thrive under the guidance of Hopkins’ resolute faculty members such as Jessica Marie Johnson, a scholar dedicated to augmenting subjugated history and cultivating well-informed minds.

Rather than leave my community behind, I want to bring our marginalized voices into powerful spaces. As such, across Hopkins’ multiple disciplines, I intend to engage in extracurriculars geared toward building solidarity between minority students. Programs with the Center for Diversity and Inclusion present the best opportunities to do so amongst others with a vested interest in social equity. I resonate with the Female Leaders of Color and their commitment to uniting women of color at the forefront of professional and academic discourse. Gaining this sisterhood would build on my experience interning for a woman-owned business, The Sustainable Socialite, as well as open doors to similar opportunities. Likewise, joining the Melanotes would encourage my artistic creation within a harmonious community of Black voices.

In addition to campus groups, I am drawn to the Hopkins Office for Undergraduate Research (HOUR). For me, research can reconcile outstanding issues and bridge generational gaps. In the spring of 2022, after two semesters of extensive study, I curated an academic workshop addressing female genital mutilation and cutting (FGM/C) as a polarizing public health issue affecting women across the East African diaspora—women like my aunt and grandma. Driven by the goals of safely confronting ethnocentric outlooks and educating students on culturally sensitive terminologies, my workshop’s discoveries on FGM/C prompted participants to speak out on the stigmatized issue. When I ponder on my place within Hopkins, next-level programs including HOUR solidify ways I can contribute to the institution’s diverse campus. My desire to transfer to Hopkins stems from our shared curiosity in life and the complex stories that build it.

Admissions Committee Comments

In her essay, Summer Mai Li reflects upon the power of intergenerational storytelling as a method for sharing the complex experiences of individuals living in political upheaval. Summer Mai Li connects the personal stories of her loved ones to global civil and human rights issues that she intends to study during her time at Hopkins. She recognizes the importance of taking an interdisciplinary approach within cultural studies, and she demonstrates her match for the Hopkins academic environment through an appreciation for a liberal arts education. Through her essay, the admissions committee not only gained insight into Summer Mai Li’s research interests, but also her unique perspective and how she hopes to continue exploring her identity in the next phase of her college career.

“Above all, I wanted the committee to recognize my purpose. If research has taught me anything it is that, while I stand as one, everything I represent speaks for the thousands of whom I can credit for my existence. For me, this essay is more than a proclamation that family is important, it is a testament to the stories I continue to reminisce upon—the victories and failures—that fuel my continuous desire for learning. My familiarity with Hopkins as a research school encouraged an approach to writing which emphasized my passion for storytelling. Through my transfer essay, I hoped to highlight Hopkins’ and my similar definition of research as an exploration.”

Summer Mai Li S.

My Spotify Playlist

By ALYSSA C., ’27

Special memories from the past seventeen years of my life can be captured by my 38 thoughtfully curated Spotify playlists. Each has a unique name, from “studying with ghosts” to “liminal spaces”. I hold three in particular closest to my heart, each representing a time when I used music to connect and bring people together. I see music as a powerful influencer — it uplifts, heals, and unites.

“Court’s in session,” an invigorating playlist that marked my first year on the varsity tennis team. The road to CIF Finals was hard-fought that year. I remember the despair I felt when the team lost two consecutive matches, and our coach pointed out our disconnect from each other on the court. Listening to my Spotify on the way home, I knew I had to come up with a way to unify my teammates. Thus, I pitched an idea for a collaborative, high-energy playlist to be blasted whenever morale was low. The playlist took form quickly and evolved into Tiktok dances on my lead with the participation of the whole team. Being in sync outside of the court made our team more cohesive, which became especially apparent during double’s play. This newfound sense of unity and energy would carry us as we went on to compete. Slowly, we took back the games one by one.

“Hollaback Girl” by Gwen Stefani became the anthem and lifeblood of our team, spurring us to the CIF Championship title that year.

“Westridge 2023 bops,” a diverse playlist I created to keep my classmates connected during the pandemic. By the time I was elected as sophomore vice president, I had not seen my classmates in person for months and realized with a sinking feeling it was unknown when we could reunite. Wanting to lessen this sense of isolation they often mentioned, I started a new Spotify playlist: “Westridge 2023 bops.” Everyone contributed to it with songs ranging from “Fergalicious” by Fergie to “More Than a Woman” by the Bee Gees. Loneliness dissipated as we exchanged music recommendations, fangirled over different artists, and listened to the playlist during class meetings. Realizing I was able to unpause the silence and reunite my class, I dug deeper for ideas; next came a grade-specific Instagram, which included pictures of our classmates’ Halloween costumes, virtual art contests, and notes of gratitude for our teachers. I felt my own sense of belonging return as our community strengthened once more.

The spirited melody of “Everybody Talks” by Neon Trees, our established class song, brought my classmates back together and revived our camaraderie.

“Stemology jams,” a kid-friendly playlist enhancing our STEM classes. When I co-founded Stemology, an elementary-aged educational nonprofit, I never thought the most difficult component of the process would be earning the trust of the kids. As their concentration waned and chatter increased during our first class, I realized I had to pivot from the original lesson plan. In a desperate attempt to keep their attention, I quickly blasted Disney’s “Under the Sea” to match our presentation on marine biology. It worked! Their attention snapped back, and a meaningful conversation about sea anemones ensued. The next class, they shouted with excitement as we played “Fireflies” by Owl City for our lesson on bioluminescence and interjected with their own song suggestions. Before long, the students greeted me with hugs and enthusiasm when I walked into the classroom, eager to guess the day’s lesson plan from the song I presented.

The inspirational lyrics of “Counting Stars” by OneRepublic during an astronomy lesson bridged the age gap, as my students and I swapped stories inspired by the constellations we created.

These existing Spotify playlists were my tools to bring together communities, and the memories made with people I have shared my playlists with have shaped who I am. I’m looking forward to new adventures and starting my 39th Spotify playlist with “Don’t Stop Me Now” by Queen.

Admissions Committee Comments

Alyssa’s essay reflects on special memories through the creative lens of Spotify playlists. They use three examples to highlight their experiences with their tennis team, finding a virtual community during the pandemic, and co-founding a nonprofit to help younger students learn about STEM. Crafting each unique playlist gave Alyssa the opportunity to build meaningful connections with three very different groups. This ability to understand and uplift others shows us how Alyssa will take advantage of the varying organizations and communities on our campus. Alyssa’s genuine interest and care for those around them will be an asset to their peers and the larger Hopkins community.

“As an anticipated public health major, many of my classes and extracurriculars reflected a more academic side of my pursuits. By talking about music in my essay, I wanted to show how I think and interact with individuals outside of an academic setting.”

Alyssa C.

Classical Reflections in Herstory

By maddie w., ’27

My eyes scan the Latin, searching for a word in the nominative to ground the beginning of my translation. Each line of Latin is like a pile of jumbled puzzle pieces. It’s my job to sort each part of speech into the right order until the knobs and holes of the sentence click together. The completion of a translation is always fulfilling.

Studying Latin and Ancient Greek allowed me to read the epic stories I loved in their original languages, and find nuances through their allusions and word pictures, adding a depth unknown to the English texts. Eventually, I began to seek out lesser-known writings by female and nonbinary writers who differed from the men often taught in the Latin classroom. In her poem, Renaissance writer, Olympia Morata, defines herself apart from the historical expectations placed upon women, and instead by her own unique interests. Despite the passage of time between us, I connect with her words as another young woman acquiring self knowledge and transitioning into womanhood. Her writing left me wondering how many other writings of marginalized authors were waiting to be appreciated. The role of gender and whose story gets to be heard in the Classics intrigued me, and led me to examine how gender was complicated during the Roman Civil War in Tacitus’ Histories.

In college, I hope to explore more writings by women throughout history to better understand gender dynamics, and ultimately help raise their profile. The stories of many female authors remain unheard in Latin classrooms where their male counterparts, such as Caesar and Vergil, dominate. By broadening my range of readings, I intend to continue helping to bridge the gender gap within the Classics.

The opportunity to research at Johns Hopkins’ Classical Research Lab would allow me to continue exploring my questions surrounding gender in the Classics while discovering the writings of forgotten authors at my own pace. Unique courses at Hopkins which observe the connection between Greek Myth and Anime, and the ancient interpretations of the cosmos, all interest me and will open my eyes to new avenues within the Classics. Additionally, Archaeology and Ancient Civilizations Club and Quiz Bowl Club seem like fun ways to test my knowledge while meeting new people with similar interests. As shown, the Classics community at Johns Hopkins provides many amazing opportunities which I intend to utilize fully.

Admissions Committee Comments

Maddie’s essay details their intellectual journey using their love of Greek classics. They incorporate details that reveal the roots of their academic interests: storytelling, literary devices, and translation. As their essay progresses, so do Maddie’s intellectual curiosities. We learn about their interest in gender studies and how they actively pursued connections between this and their love of classics by seeking texts by female and nonbinary authors. Maddie’s connection to research opportunities in the classics at Hopkins helps us understand how they visualize their academic journey here. It also helps us envision the contributions they will make in how academic communities may understand gender dynamics in the classics. This essay highlights the intersectionality of Maddie’s interests and the unique academic perspective they will bring to our community.

“The classics played a defining role in my high school experience, and I wanted to emphasize my passion for it with this essay. The activities list reflects the bare bones of what I did, but I needed the essay to explain the why behind them. I wanted the committee to see what motivates me by breaking down my thought process while engaging with old texts and explaining the path that my curiosity in the Ancient World has led me down and, ultimately, how Hopkins could play a part in that journey.”

Maddie W.

My Rock

By Kashvi G., ’27

Nothing about true love comes easy. Loving comes with hard work, responsibility and compromise. In my case, it came with four legs, PTSD, separation anxiety and in need of constant attention.

Rock came to us when he was 10 years old, retired from the Bangalore police force and in need of a loving home for his last few years. I’d been asking my parents if we could adopt a dog for years. I still wonder what made them say ‘yes’ to Rock. Suffering from amebiasis and severely malnourished, he had been at the dog shelter for a while, and was on the verge of giving up.

I wasn’t ready to parent a senior dog. As the youngest in the family, I was the one who was always looked after. Once Rock came along, I was suddenly completely responsible for someone else’s life. Roles like being a school student council member taught me responsibility, but not to care for someone else. I realized the stark difference between acknowledging responsibility and actually taking it on.

It was the small things like recognizing the difference between barks for food or barks to be taken out. It was the bigger things like feeding him 10 pills a day, bladder issues that meant he needed four walks a day and acute PTSD and separation anxiety. Rock was a whole lot of work and needed a whole lot of love.

I thought I knew how to multitask with my varied extracurriculars, but here I was learning a whole new meaning to the word. I thought I had effective communication skills from my time volunteering at a dog shelter, and here I was trying to create a whole new lexicon for what each of Rock’s barks meant.

And yet, nothing has come easier to me than my love for Rock. Awkward, unsure of how to express love, and constantly hungry, he and I mirror each other in more ways than one. As a child, I would make my older sister follow me around the house, just to make sure I had her attention. Ten years later, my dog does the same to me.

Anxious and traumatized, he needs me as his therapy human as much as I need him for moral support and inspiration. And, an inspiration he is. Arthritic, limping, and uprooted from his life of ten years, Rock remains the biggest source of joy in our lives. As tough as it was for us to adjust to having him, it was a million times harder for him. But, somehow, he’s managed to find his joy with us, too. Whether I leave the room for ten minutes or 3 days, he’s always ecstatic when I return. All he needs is for me to show up. There are even times when he wags his tail in his sleep. Our relationship helps us both – he teaches me to be happy and I make sure I always show up for him.

I recently visited the Exploratorium in San Francisco and observed what is known as a mutualistic relationship between Randall’s pistol shrimp and prawn goby. The shrimp always has at least one antenna touching the fish at all times – their symbiosis depends on it. Rock and I are always in the same room, always within a foot of each other.

In his essay collection, ‘The Anthropocene Reviewed’, John Green says, “the Canada goose is hard to love. But then again, so are most of us.”

Rocky has taught me that I’m, surprisingly, pretty good at the tough parts of love. That I can be responsible, caring and overflowing with good feelings all at once. Maybe it’s just that the love that seems the hardest, that teaches us the most, is the one we treasure most. And for this, and for Rock, I am forever grateful.

Admissions Committee Comments

Kashvi’s essay encapsulates a heartfelt journey of self-discovery and the invaluable teachings of Rock, their 10-year-old dog. Through the lens of their companionship, Kashvi walked us through valuable lessons on responsibility, friendship, patience, and unconditional love. Their bond epitomizes genuine friendship, built on trust and a mutualistic relationship where they learned from each other. Through Kashvi’s reflections on Rock’s impact, we get a profound understanding of their values and personal growth. This essay provides insight into their genuine emotions, allowing us to truly connect with Kashvi as an individual.

“I wrote my essay on my dog because my relationship with him has taught me so much about my own personality. I was able to paint a picture of the resilience and compassion that he has brought out in me. Writing about someone I love came naturally and helped me show the different aspects of my personality that I wanted the admissions committee to know about.”

Kashvi G.

Tikkun Olam

By Julieta V., ’27

Tikkun Olam, a desire to help repair the world, is the most important value that my family transmitted. Although it was presented to me all my life, I internalized its meaning when I realized I needed to do something for my city.

I grew up in La Plata, which sits on the widest river in the world, the Río de La Plata. I’ve been sailing on this river since I was a child. As I got older, I started to notice some changes in the river: dead fish, floating waste, and a murky color. This filled my heart with concern and sadness. After brainstorming about how I could help restore the river to its original glory, I had my eureka moment: filter the trash out of the water using a waterproof barrier. I gathered people in my neighborhood who shared my concern, and after several attempts, the floating waste barrier we had engineered was up and running. It was empowering to take an idea from my head and with hard work turn it into something physical and useful. However, cleaning up the river is just the beginning, I’m inspired to create more mechanisms like this one.

At Hopkins, I aim to spread the concept of Tikkun Olam and carry my initiative to fight against pollution, as I intend to develop new systems with my peers and professors to build a greener campus, just as I did in my city. Hopkins is the ideal place for this thanks to the variety of courses it offers to complement my ideas and ambitions: working alongside Professor Michael Tsapatsis would help me enrich my knowledge in green energy, in order to reduce waste and pollution. Moreover, being part of Professor Marc Donohue’s research group would allow me to work in collaborative projects, and thrive on catalytic systems to reduce emissions from industrial processes that will benefit Hopkins’ community. I would love to connect these projects with my Latin roots, and the OLÉ Latine student group is the perfect environment for it. From this, I will gain knowledge to build myself as a professional, and then bring those transformative ideas back to my hometown.

That’s why I strongly believe that the opportunities in Chemical and Biomolecular Engineering at JHU are absolutely perfect for me to apply what I’ve learned from my experience and engage in this new community to make the best out of it.

Admissions Committee Comments

Julieta illustrates how the concept of Tikkun Olam, “a desire to help repair the world,” has shaped their passions and drives them to pursue experiences at Hopkins. First, Julieta shows us how this value encouraged them to create a lasting impact in their community by designing a water-cleaning mechanism in their city’s river. They illustrate several aspects of their identity: leadership within their community, stewardship of the environment, and emerging skills as an engineer. Julieta clearly connects all of these qualities to the education they plan to pursue at Hopkins. They further pinpoint their interests in green energy and fighting pollution, and detail avenues to pursue these interests at Hopkins and beyond. Julieta has woven connections between their culture, experiences, and passions that helped us understand them more completely. This essay gives us a sense of how Julieta will contribute academically and socially to a greener campus at Hopkins and to a cleaner environment in their future.

“I wanted the admissions committee to know how I put into practice the traditions and values that have guided me for so many years, how I lead and work in a collaborative group for a good cause, my environmental interests, and how I plan to apply my ideas in college. But most of all, I wanted them to know why Hopkins was the right university for me and why I was a good match for the university.”

Julieta V.

Pack Light, But Be Prepared

By pablo D., ’27

Friday night, September the 16th 2022 and I am packing for my pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela in Galicia, Spain. It is a tradition at my school that all seniors begin their final year of school by embarking on the “Camino de Santiago” (the Way of St. James). Four days of walking a total of 135 kilometers to reach our destination. We have been told to pack light, a bulky and heavy backpack will hold you back, but to be prepared for: changing weather (lightweight clothes, a jacket, rain poncho) blisters and sore feet (plenty of socks, extra shoes, bandages, antiseptics) and physical exhaustion (dried fruits and nuts, cereal bars, extra water bottles). I look at my compact backpack and I think…it is going to be a long night.

As I settle into the task at hand, carefully packing, unpacking, and readjusting items, trying to make them fit, it occurs to me that we do the very same thing in life. The backpack that we carry on our journey must also be packed light so that it is easy to carry, and it too must be equipped with everything we will need to successfully face the unexpected; to be prepared for anything that comes our way, and this got me thinking, “What do I have in my backpack?”

The first time I consciously chose an item to pack was in first grade. I remember as I listened to my teacher stressing the importance of “good behavior”, my interest was riveted on the transparent yo-yo with flashing lights which would be given to the student who received the most merits at the end of the month. I had a goal and I planned to work diligently towards achieving it, and I did. That feeling of success was so fulfilling, so gratifying that it marked a path that I would follow from there on out.

I was twelve when I made a deliberate switch of items in my backpack. I had been playing soccer forever, we all did, it is the sport of choice here in Spain, so many were surprised when I decided to take up rugby instead. My decision was based on finding a sport that not only matches my physical abilities and potential but more importantly it reflects who I am. In rugby, there are no superstars, both victory and defeat are owned by the team with an intense spirit of camaraderie. I have been playing on a federated level for the past five years and all the values that are embodied in this sport – integrity, passion, solidarity, discipline, commitment, and respect – have found a permanent home in my backpack.

There came a time when I realized that something was missing. I was unable to put a name to it, but I would reach for it in certain situations, and it was not there. My decision to do ninth grade of high school abroad, in New Jersey, led me to discover what it was. I had to learn how to put myself out there for people, outside of my circle, to get to know me. I had to open myself up to making new connections and brace myself for possible rejection by stepping out of my comfort zone. This experience marked a before and after in my life for which I will be eternally grateful.

It is 1.00 a.m. and I have finally finished packing; a tight fit, but I have everything I will need. As for my other backpack, I do a quick mental check: a goal-oriented drive, actions coherent with my character, the ability to open myself up to and learn from new and enriching experiences and other items, carefully tucked in there. Am I prepared for what lies ahead? I believe so, and the best part is, I left room for so much more.

Admissions Committee Comments

In Pablo’s essay, the act of packing for a pilgrimage becomes a metaphor for the way humans accumulate experiences in their life’s journey and what we can learn from them. As we join Pablo through the diverse phases of their life, we gain insights into their character and values. We learn Pablo is determined in the face of challenges and is committed to their own personal growth. Their willingness to embrace change and excitement for the path ahead illuminates their optimism and eagerness for the future. Hopkins students are always up for a challenge and love to embrace new and different things. Through their essay, Pablo paints a vivid portrait of someone who is eager to step out of their comfort zone, making them at home in our community of forward-thinkers.

“After writing this essay, I had a clearer vision of my strengths—personal drive, ability to make coherent and realistic decisions, unafraid to expand my comfort zone to embrace and discover new things about myself—that would make me a viable university candidate. I chose to highlight those strengths in the admissions process.”

Pablo D.

Ordering the Disorderly

By Ellie L., ’27

Entropy is the property that provides the basis for the second law of thermodynamics, which states that the universe naturally gravitates toward disorder. Its explanation comes from the idea that the universe prefers to conserve energy; because energy must be put into organization, everything around us is constantly descending into an increasingly complex state of chaos. Cheerful, I know. While it may seem like a concept worth forgetting – especially with its conviction about an imminent “universal heat death” – entropy has taught me far more outside of the classroom than in it.

I, unlike the universe, have never been a very big fan of disorder. Admittedly, I worship the planner in my backpack, hate it when I have more than three unread emails, and am the designated pantry organizer of my household. I arrive dependably at school every morning half an hour early and have mastered the art of Marie Kondo’s file folding for each of my closet drawers. I have fallen in love with the idea of becoming a surgeon to dedicate my career to putting back together what has been broken –ordering the disorderly– and every organizational habit I have developed has been a microcosm of that passion.

However, life is often more unpredictable than might allow a color-coded spreadsheet to double as a crystal ball. When I am faced with a group discussion in which conflicting ideas create more questions than answers, or when I am rushing from track practice to a robotics meeting, worried about when to fit my homework in, I remind myself of the importance of entropy.

For a system to be considered at equilibrium, entropy must actually be at its maximum. In order to be stable, everything must be marginally out of control. This applies just as much to life as it does to chemistry. The best stories I’ve written didn’t start with an outline, but with random phrases I’d jotted down in a notebook in a moment of epiphany. My favorite chemistry labs were exponentially disastrous as they progressed, teaching me more about error analysis than acids and bases. My most memorable class periods were the ones that started with a lesson plan but followed the curiosity of the class, taking us anywhere from the taxonomy of mermaids to hiking horror stories.

Entropy is also a measure of the changes in the status quo of a system. The more unpredictable the outcome of a reaction, the higher its entropy value. Although I love my orderly desktop and preprepared Spotify playlists for any mood, I embrace copious entropy and all that it represents, because I, too, want to be the unexpected in a world that expects the status quo. I want to defy predictions and make world-changing discoveries, increasing my entropy as my impact tends limitlessly towards infinity. Though I don’t expect it to be easy and may occasionally enlist the help of my planner and about a million colored pens, I take comfort in knowing that my intention to excel as a woman in STEM and a young adult dystopian novelist pleases the universe.

A high entropy value increases the chance for both failure and success; it is both the natural way of the world and the primary supplier of chaos. I welcome both with open arms, though chaos and failure still scare me. Now, when I am the only one in my class with a particular opinion on our book or am stressed about the caveats of a busy schedule, I take a deep breath and recognize the potential to thrive in it. I am supposed to exist in chaos. I can venture into uncharted territory and comfortably embrace the positive that lies in the unknown, sure that when that entropic feeling inexorably takes over and life gets messy, I’ll be ready. To feel out of control is not the end of the world, but the natural state of it.

Admissions Committee Comments

Ellie’s essay skillfully uses the topic of entropy as an extended metaphor. Through it, we see reflections about who they are and who they aspire to be. Many students write about a future they hope to achieve, such as a major, career, impact, or lifestyle. While that may tell us something about who they are, these types of essays often use that desired outcome as the thesis and not as a means for us to understand who the applicant truly is. Ellie’s essay tells us some of those desired outcomes without sacrificing self-reflection in the process. We learn a lot about who they are throughout this metaphor: their willingness to learn from mistakes, accept the unpredictable, and push the status quo. These are traits that drive Ellie and ultimately allow us to know them on a deeper level and see how strong of a match they are for the Hopkins community.

“I feel really passionate that personality in the essays is significantly more important than professionalism. My favorite compliment that I got on this essay was they could hear my voice as they read it, which was proof to me that it was personal on more levels than one. My advice would be to stay as true to yourself as possible when writing—authenticity is admirable!”

Ellie L.

Beep bop beep bop. I’m Pebble. Nice to meet you!

By Stone M.

I’m Stone’s sidekick, friend, and mentor. Stone created me with Legos back in his fifth-grade robotics lab, and I’ve been with him since. Unlike my noisy colleagues in Toy Story, I’m a silent observer and have watched Stone mature over the years. Given my keen eye and experience, I can confidently say that Stone’s life is closely revolved around me–his robot.

In eighth grade, we had to wave goodbye to our founding robotics club since Stone moved to Taiwan. There came our first transition: the new robotics club required me to be built with metal instead of Legos, and Stone had never even laid hands on a wrench before! To my relief, he didn’t stagnate; he shadowed veteran members during meetings, asked questions whenever possible, and stayed for long hours after school to hone his power tool skills. By year-end, Stone had amassed enough knowledge and successfully assembled me a sporty all-metal body.

Before we could relish our success, Stone’s family moved once again from Taiwan to Texas. Stone started high school and joined the new robotics club, where a new challenge brewed. Armed with his mechanical experience, freshman Stone was confident in his approach to designing robots, making him both assertive and at times “bossy.” In fact, he developed hearing issues—other members’ ideas would enter his right ear and immediately exit through his left ear. However, his colleagues still respected his dedication, and overlooking his shortcomings, elected him as President at the end of tenth grade. Now responsible for the entire club’s future, Stone realized he must regain his ‘hearing’ and change his leadership strategy to successfully lead the teams.

Stone grew cognizant of his approach to leadership as he swayed from authoritative to participative. In discussions, he worked hard to shut up and listen. When assembling me, he encouraged others to take the screwdriver. He even sought feedback from his teammates during carpools. These actions instilled a sense of team spirit and collaboration amongst the members, which transformed me into a robot forged with everyone’s ideas. Through their diligence and (mostly) my skillful performance, we advanced past leagues, regionals, and achieved a place amongst the top teams in the State—an unprecedented accomplishment for The Pastabots.

Not that there wasn’t drama along the way.

As if obeying Murphy’s Law, my body became limp two days before the State Championship. Sighs and headshakes filled the lab as I pitifully failed at tasks that I had performed flawlessly the day before. After examination, Stone diagnosed me with “terminal launcher jam;” if untreated, we would be lucky to place second to-last. Then, the team discussed my treatment—a complete rebuild or just a patch-up? With the clock ticking, Stone chose to patch me up.

Wrong decision: after 4 hours of “quick patch-up,” my metal frame still refused to budge. Some members collapsed on the futon and others stared at the clock. Stone gazed at me while holding his wrench, his incisive brown eyes searching for a solution. Suddenly, he announced, “I’m sorry guys. My decision was wrong, but we can’t give up now! Let’s rebuild the launcher.” This resolve reinvigorated the members, and the operation recommenced. Like performing a surgery, overhead lights brightly illuminated me and the surrounding mechanics. With screwdrivers replacing scalpels, and safety goggles in place of surgical headlights, the team succeeded in assembling a new launcher. With it, I scored points with ease. Drowned in everyone’s cheers, Stone came to understand that failure is a part of life but the will to rectify his mistake serves as a motivation to embark on many more ventures in life. Indeed, from the clicking of Legos to the clanking of metal, Stone has laid many stepping stones for the journey ahead. Although it is filled with obstacles, we will face it with optimism. I wonder what’s next? Can’t wait to find out!

Admissions Committee Comments

The author chose a style that feels appropriate to them. This style will not work for everyone, but in this essay, we get some insight into the playful nature of the applicant. The content tells a story of growth. We see the author move from a place of arrogance to one of humility. It allows the final act of the story to take place. The author’s 9th grade self does not seem to be someone who would so willingly accept ownership of a mistake, nor does he seem like the type of leader that might win the support of his team after a mistake. But the growth that takes place through leadership experience is crucial to the author’s development as a willing collaborator.

I wanted the committee to know my love for robotics and my challenge with finding the balance of leadership. I also wanted to show that to me, the robots I’ve built are not just hunks of plastic or metal. My teammates and I poured our hearts and soul into each of them, so to us, our robots are our most valuable teammates.

Stone M.

Dancing Together

By Dayann

I cannot dance.

This is not something I often admit willingly; in fact, it is quite baffling to me how horribly incapable I am at performing even the most basic movements on command. My grandmother often describes it as “a tragedy” as she is forced to watch her grandchild absolutely butcher our country’s cultural dances, beautiful expressions of our unique West African roots turned into poor facsimiles by my robotic movements.

And yet, year after year, I find myself taking the dance floor at my family’s events, seemingly unaware of my objective lack of skill. Eventually, my display proves to be so amazingly unbearable that I am removed from the floor and shown the correct movements over and over again until I am able to replicate them well enough to come back. Bizarrely, despite my previous declaration that I cannot dance, for the past three years, I have found myself performing an entire choreographed routine at my school’s yearly pep rallies.

It is through looking back at these events that I realize that I have created a mischaracterization of my dancing abilities through my decisive first sentence. I can dance and am, in fact, very capable of doing so, but not when I act insularly. My ability to dance correlates directly with how willing I am to collaborate, the input and support of others turning the uncoordinated and unwieldy into the near-graceful.

My attempts at dancing have led me to value community and collaboration greatly, and I find myself seeking and being drawn towards environments that will allow me to continue to develop both of these values as I learn and grow. Through my internship with the Johns Hopkins Applied Physics Lab, I was exposed to and became fascinated by the collaborative spirit that lies at the heart of Johns Hopkins. The idea that one cannot discover or innovate when working alone was affirmed during my research, and I have come to see that mutual collaboration and community are integral aspects of Johns Hopkins’ unique culture. From the research initiatives that breach the boundaries between class levels, to the many organizations such as the Tutorial Project, relying on the shared initiatives of different students to directly make an impact on Baltimore and its many communities, and the distinctive access to especially interdisciplinary topics such as neuromorphic systems, I view that Johns Hopkins exemplifies the peak of collaborative achievement in education.

Admissions Committee Comments

In Dayann’s essay, we learn a few things about him. First, he loves to participate. Despite his insistence that he cannot dance, we see him dancing throughout his essay. Second, he realizes that he can in fact dance, but needs to work with others to bring out the best in himself, and in the group. And third, he then is able to connect this to his future. He recognizes that in order to reach his potential, he wants to be at a place where he can collaborate with peers who can challenge him to be even better.

Choosing to focus on my culture and a former insecurity of mine together served as a medium through which I could show how that background had shaped me as well as my values and what I wanted for myself within my academic and research interests. The most challenging part of writing the essay was coming up with a way to bridge the gap between what I learned about myself from my introspection to specific experiences I wanted from the university. It was essentially identifying and putting into words the reason I viewed Hopkins as the place for me.

Dayann

Left and Right Don’t Exist

By Stella

The first lesson I learned as a student pilot is that left and right don’t exist. Maybe driving on a highway or in a parking lot, left and right is precise enough to describe the location and movements of slow-moving bikers, pedestrians, and cars. But at 36,000 feet in the air in a steel tube hurdling almost 200 miles an hour? Left and right just don’t cut it.

During one of my first flights in a small Cessna-182, my flight instructor ordered me to scan the horizon for approaching aircrafts. To my right, I caught a glimpse of one: another Cessna with maroon stripes, the sun’s reflection glinting off its windows. Gesturing vaguely to my two o’clock, I informed my flying instructor, “There’s a plane to the right.”

“No, to your right. From his position, what direction does he see you?” From his angle, I was to his left. In that moment, I realized that perspective and precision of language is everything. The radio chirped: “Cessna One-Eight-Two Sandra, heading north to John Wayne Airport. Over.”

I navigate using my compass’s north, east, south, and west directions because every pilot’s vantage point differs from each other both vertically and horizontally, creating opposite perspectives. My right was that pilot’s left.

Through flying, I began to consider all points of view, regardless of my personal perspective.

Perhaps it was my ability to scan the horizon to communicate a single story, uniting contrasting outlooks, that drew me to my love for journalism and the diverse melting pot that was my community.

To me, journalism modernizes the ancient power of storytelling, filled with imperfect characters and intricate conflicts to which I am the narrator. As editor-in-chief for my school newspaper, The Wildcat’s Tale, I aim to share the uncensored perspective of all students and encourage my editorial groups to talk — and listen — to those with whom they disagree. Starting each newspaper edition with a socratic, round-table discussion, I ask the other journalists to pursue stories that answer the questions: why did this happen and where will it lead?

Expanding beyond the perspectives of my classmates, I began writing articles for the Korea Daily, and later, the Los Angeles Times High School Insider. I schedule interviews with city council candidates, young and old voters, and mayors of my town, obtaining quotes and anecdotes to weave into my writing. My interviews with both Democratic and Republican voters have taught me to thoroughly report polarizing-opposite opinions through an unbiased lens. As a journalist, I realized I cannot presume the opinions of the reader, but instead simply provide them with the tools necessary to formulate their own conclusions.

However, differences in perspective in my articles are not solely limited to politics. I found that in my suburban community, people love to read about the small-town hospitality of their own friends and neighbors. Quirky traditions, like our Fourth of July carnival clown and local elementary school’s Thanksgiving talent show, are equally as important to me as national headlines are. My favorite stories to publish are the ones taped onto fridges, proudly framed on the mom-and-pop downtown diner, or pinned into the corkboard in my teacher’s classroom. I discovered the size of my story does not matter, but the impact I leave on the reader does.

In my time as both a student pilot and journalist, I grew to love these stories, the ones that showed me that living life with blinders, can not only be boring, but dangerous. Whether I was 36,000 feet in the air or on ground level, by flying and writing, I realized that the most interesting stories of life come straight from the people most different from me.

Admissions Committee Comments

Stella begins this essay by discussing her experience learning to fly. This anecdote, however, is less about the act itself as it is what the experience taught her in regards to perspective and points of view. She’s then able to connect these takeaways to another aspect of her life – her love of journalism. As she shares more information about her approach and impact with journalism, she makes it clear that those lessons from flying are ever-present in her work. From listening to others’ ideas and points of view in the newspaper editing room to looking at stories from a balanced and thoughtful perspective, we’re able to learn a good deal about how she approaches not just her passions, but her community as well. This essay is able to add to the whole application by sharing with us some new passions and expanding on some of her impact, but its main focus is how she was able to apply lessons from one experience to other aspects of her life. As we think about what type of member Stella will be in our community, this essay helps us understand that she’ll be someone willing to listen, learn, apply those learnings, and make an impact.

“I chose to write about my two favorite hobbies, flying and writing, because I knew I could write most honestly about what I love to do. This essay captured my thinking process and creative approach to seemingly everyday tasks and situations, which is something that cannot be listed in a resume. Rather than writing what I assumed the Hopkins’ admission team would be impressed with, I learned to focus on writing an essay that captured my personality. It was challenging, yet rewarding, to write in my natural, conversational voice while still remaining professional.”

Stella, Los Angeles, California

Queen’s Gambit

By Dante

No, Dante. Stop, think, and look at the entire board.

I was thoroughly confused. I thought I had procured the complete solution to this elaborate chess puzzle. What am I missing? A knight fork, a bishop move? Am I in check? After a quick glance at the left side of the board, I slapped my hand on my head as I suddenly realized what my chess coach was telling me. My queen was sitting unused, positioned all the way on the other side of the board, and I had no idea. If I were to sacrifice my queen, the opposing rook would be forced to capture it, allowing me to finish the game in style with the illustrious “smothered mate.”

If you begin to look at the whole chessboard, then these puzzles will become a breeze for you.

Ever since that chess lesson, those words have stuck. Indeed, my chess skills improved swiftly as my rating flew over the 1000 Elo threshold in a matter of months. However, those words did not merely pertain to chess. Looking at the whole picture became a foundational skill that I have utilized throughout my life in school and other endeavors. I particularly remember making use of it on the soccer field.

Now, I’m no Arnold Schwarzenegger. Weighing in at a monstrous 125 pounds and standing 5 foot 8 inches, my opponents made it a habit to tackle me to the ground. Once again, I found myself face to face with the defender, and before I knew it, I crumbled to the ground, left isolated and dispossessed. Laying dazed on the pitch, my mind flashed back to the chessboard. It occurred to me that soccer, much like chess, relies on the proper position of the many pieces that combine to create a finished strategy. The “whole picture” of soccer is not just how fast or strong one is or how many tackles you put in; that is only one element of the puzzle. The intelligence and creativity needed in a playmaker is also an essential part of a well-rounded soccer team. I realized that my most significant advantage would always be my in-depth understanding of the game of soccer—where to pass the ball, when to make a run, if the ball should be in the air or driven. I picked myself off the ground, and when that same defender came barreling towards me again, I was zoned in, oblivious to the noise around me. I chipped the ball into the open space right behind him, knowing my teammate would run into the space without even looking. From then on, I continued to hone my skills through intense practice to become the best playmaker I could be, working in conjunction with my faster and stronger teammates to become a well-balanced, unified team.

Through chess and soccer, I have discovered that every piece in a puzzle has a purpose. This new perspective has enhanced my ability to stop, stand back, and analyze the whole picture in the many dimensions of my life. In my scientific studies, it was not enough to examine just one C. reinhardtii cell, but it was necessary to zoom out the microscope to capture all of the thousand cells to truly understand quorum sensing and its consequences. In my studies of music, it was not enough to listen to the melody of the finale of Beethoven’s 9th symphony, but one must realize that the true beauty of the composition lies in the whole orchestra handing off this simple melody to every instrument. All these facets—music, research, soccer, chess—are not only completed puzzles but also parts of a greater whole: my life. Every aspect of myself matters as much as the other. As high school comes to an end, the pieces on my board are set, and I only have success in mind.

Your move.

Admissions Committee Comments

Dante’s essay makes it clear to the reader that he is very curious and has many interests by showing more than telling. He thoughtfully connects the lessons he’s learned from chess to his performance on the soccer field and does a great job of focusing on what he learned as opposed to a blow-by-blow recount of the entire chess match or soccer game. The reader is also able to see that Dante can apply what he learns in one subject to another, which is essential to succeeding academically at Hopkins. Our admissions committee can read this essay and find clear evidence that Dante’s way of thinking would help him thrive in our interdisciplinary curriculum.

“Throughout the college application process, the “whole picture” was always an emphasis point. I took that advice a bit literally. I [used the essay] as a way to tie everything together in my application, giving everything a more meaningful purpose than just a list of extracurriculars. I wanted the committee to know that I didn’t do everything just to fill up a resume, instead I wanted to show them that everything I did had a meaning and was done with total focus and effort in order to better myself.”

Dante, Melbourne, Florida