Some students have a background, identity, interest, or talent that is so meaningful they believe their application would be incomplete without it. If this sounds like you, then please share your story.


I was staring into a mirror trying to put on the most intimidating face I could muster. My dad was behind me, encouraging me to put on a fiercer countenance - you know, just in case I needed to scare some people.


But I couldn’t scare away doubt and insecurity.


I believed that hard work allowed me to compete with the best, but at the same time, was it really enough to beat the best? Young [name of student] was convinced that he needed to prove he could succeed by himself. Accepting help equalled defeat.


When I was 12, two years after discovering the intense game of squash, I was convinced that my skills would improve dramatically if I practiced for long enough. I did not waste my hours after school on a social life; instead, I went to the squash court to hit that small rubber ball as many times as I could. Coaches were unnecessary. Feeling sure of my abilities, I entered my next tournament certain I would win. However, even though I could hit the ball, I had no strategy.


I got destroyed.


After a few years, I had a coach, but my competitiveness was tormenting me. Inexplicably, I struggled to control the variables of my mind. I needed to win after having spent time and money for a coach, consequently amplifying my worry about losing.


There I was, staring into a mirror before preparing for another squash match. My dad wanted me to see a lion. All I saw was a sheep. I felt butterflies in my stomach, too concerned about losing my rank. Seeing my limp body expression, my dad told me, “control the controllable variables.” He reminded me that I could not control the outcome, but I could control my shot selection. “All that matters is that you play the best squash you can”, he said. Buoyed by his words, I came into the match blurring out everything except for the ball and me. I focused on playing the best squash I could.


I got destroyed.


But for once, I had no negative thoughts. In fact, I felt happy that I had played well, even though I lost.


Over the next few years, I amended my game. I developed a habit for playing more volleys and being aggressive, but the biggest change was in mentality. My composure on court improved; I always played the tactically right shots and I never succumbed to arrogance. And last year, when I became the Connecticut Regional Junior Champion, I was not just proud of winning, but I was also proud of how I controlled the variables of my mind.


Meanwhile, I was struggling with physics, yet I was unwilling to accept help, nor did I feel like I needed to do anything other than stare at the book. However, it wasn’t working. 


So the next morning, I asked one of my peers to explain rotations and torque to me, having had a hard time understanding the concept. He not only explained what I had done wrong on the test, he even asked if I wanted to join his study group.


Realizing the need to make changes, I swallowed my pride and joined. Not only did I receive help from my peers, I was also able to contribute my own thoughts and reasoning to their problems. It was a non- competitive environment where we helped each other learn more.  


Soon, I had my next physics test. 


I destroyed it.


Being solely focused on performing well led to complete success.


After that test, I finally understood that only by changing my mental attitude and becoming open to change could I mature and develop my skills. In fact, I could also create a positive environment for others. Now, whether I am on the squash court or the classroom, I have not just taken on the mantle of the lion: I am the lion.