Statement of purpose essay, round 1: off the top of my head

By Johnny Fuery ⋅ December 18, 2006 ⋅  Print This Post ⋅ Post a comment

It’s been over a decade since the concept of student life has been on my psychological radar. It’s been even longer since I thought it a possibility. When I left home, shortly before my sweet sixteen, my father said to me, “you won’t make it.” I spent the next ten years proving him wrong. On a very fundamental level, I believed that financial success was equivalent to adulthood, that achievement in the form of corporate prestige and multiple bank accounts would bring a happiness and contentment that only existed in the childhood visions Walt Disney painted for me.

Since paying my first month’s rent in 1993, I’ve started over a dozen small businesses, earned a directorship at a publicly traded software firm, won first place in regional roller skating competitions, conducted business in Spanish, purchased 14 California homes, fractured a vertebra, traveled to half a dozen foreign countries, produced commercial dance parties, advised CEOs, and even dunked a few basketballs. I’ve also learned a great deal “the hard way” – concepts that most teenagers look to their parents for guidance on, like wearing my retainer, always driving with insurance, and what to do when my girlfriend’s period was late.

When I first began this journey, I sought my father’s approval. I thought that by proving him wrong through financial success I could earn his love. Years of therapy and a decade more of introspection has taught me acceptance, but it has also brought a realization on the breadth of experiences I missed. There’s no question I’ve lived a very full life, but the same desperate, frantic rush to grow up that inspired secular achievement came at a very high cost. The few vague memories I have of childhood – that curious mix of limited worry, free time, and overwhelming awkwardness – are all before puberty in my mind’s eye.

So, unlike most of my soon-to-be peers, I’m not applying to (institution name here) because the rich curriculum your institution has to offer will provide the inspiration, guidance, and knowledge needed to mold me from the child I am into the man my parents hope I will become. I’m not applying so that I can become a marketable employee, so that I can learn how to make money, or even for detailed training on a specific profession.

I wish to attend (name here again) because you can teach me how to be a kid again, to recapture the wonder and awe that has slowly given way to guarded cynicism. I want to learn how to appreciate the world around me with open arms, mind, and heart. I want to study where we came from as a species and culture, not how to make my fellow man part with a portion of his paycheck. I want to experience all that being an (Aggie/Longhorn/Sundevil) has to offer, enjoying every moment as it happens, rather than worrying about my next appointment. I want to rediscover my passion, inspiration, and hope. I want to reinvigorate the sensation and belief that I can change the world for the better.