MICHAEL BERVELL
Hometown: Mukilteo, Washington, USA
High School: Public school, 550 students in graduating class
Ethnicity: Black, African American
Gender: Male
GPA: 3.9 out of 4.0
SAT: Reading 800, Math 800, Writing 800
ACT: 35
SAT Subject Tests Taken: Mathematics Level 1, Mathematics Level 2, Physics, World History
Extracurriculars: Student body president; newspaper editor in chief; varsity debate captain; Hugs for Ghana (nonprofit) cofounder and executive director; GMAZ Jazz Quartet cofounder, drummer, and manager
Awards: International Build-a-Bear Workshop Huggable Heroes Award, National Bank of America Student Leader Delegate, Evergreen Boys State Delegate and Governor, National Radio Disney Hero for Change Award, National Achievement Scholar, National Coca-Cola Scholar
Major: Philosophy and Computer Science
ESSAY
“A-one,” I adjust my earphones.
“A-two,” I wipe the sweat off my sticks.
“A-one-two-three-four!” The sharp rhythm of Mr. Dizzy Gillespie’s iconic bebop tune “Salt Peanuts” rattles through my head like saline seeds as I silently count myself off. Then—without a hitch—Gillespie, his quintet, and I are off.
My left foot taps the AP biology textbook, my sticks bounce along the metal frame of my bed, and my soul dances to the beat I am creating. This makeshift drum set is a liberating entrance into an abstract world where I am free to express myself. As I sit on the edge of my bed imitating the monophonic flow of drummer Max Roach, I close my eyes and envision myself performing onstage with world-renowned Gillespie. We stand before thousands of people, steeped in the spotlight’s brilliant glare, and as we play my arms become a flurry of motion when, suddenly, crack!
I snap back into reality and my eyes shoot open only to realize that the moment of pure ecstasy had been interrupted—another broken drumstick!
Smiling, I pick up the pieces and walk toward a worn, old, black Ikea desk in the corner of my room. Since 5th grade, my DrumDrawer has been the keeper of every pair of new and broken drumsticks I have ever owned.
I pull open the big bottom drawer and stand admiring the sacred splinters for a brief moment before finally dropping in this latest offering. The sticks in my small pine sepulcher illustrate the quintessential facets of who I am—a musician, leader, and philanthropist. While most people typically collect rocks or baseball cards, I collect musical phrases from my life and store them in this drawer.
As I reach to the bottom, my fingers wrap around two white Vic Firth sticks. Rubbing my fingers along the bumps on the wood, I grin. This exclusive pair shared my accomplishments of playing jazz under the Eiffel Tower in Paris, drumming in award-winning spring musicals, and being inducted into the National Tri-M Music Honor Society. Moreover, these sticks not only inspired me to persevere as I cofounded, managed, and drummed in the GMAZ Jazz Quartet, but they also instilled confidence in me when I needed it most.
After I decided to run for Student Body President of my 2,200-student high school in what turned out to be a competitive election against two of my closest friends, these tattered drumsticks soothed and comforted me. Despite turbulent weeks of campaigning and preparing a daunting school-wide campaign speech, I always looked forward to returning to my bedroom and playing my favorite jazz melodies. The ups and downs of musical arrangements never failed to strike a chord.
Reminiscing, I twirl the white drumsticks between my fingers and realize that they also profoundly influenced my view of service. Once a month, these wooden wonders and I would trek from my desk to the local retirement home where we performed with other musicians in monthly “Play-It-Forward” retirement home concerts. On these Friday nights, my sticks danced on the drums, our music floated throughout the concert hall, elderly faces glowed, and I was free to let out my creative exuberance. In organizing dozens of these events, I have shared with both peers and audience members my own musical definition of altruism.
I return my Vic Firth sticks to the drawer and contentedly appreciate the collection of memories. While the wooden contents physically have no other value than, perhaps, kindling a small fire, I cannot bear to part with them. Someday the sticks will go, I realize, but the music will not.
Fresh pair of sticks in hand, I slowly shut the DrumDrawer, return to my bed, and count myself off, eyes closed, to John Coltrane’s jazz rendition of “My Favorite Things” by Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein.
“A-one, a-two, a-one-two-three-four!”
REVIEW
Right from the introduction, readers are thrown into the vibrant and colorful world that Michael’s essay creates. Passion for a musical instrument is a topic that is doubtlessly written about by many applicants, but Michael differentiates himself by using his passion for drumming to demonstrate his stylistic flair, cleverly finding ways to discuss his other, non-musical accomplishments and pursuits.
Michael clearly aims to communicate that he is a “musician, leader, and philanthropist” throughout his essay—a goal he successfully accomplishes. His musical talent and passion come alive through the vivid imagery and onomatopoeia that he uses. To demonstrate leadership, he shows how he dealt with a difficult situation maturely. Finally, his dedication to volunteer work is seamlessly worked into the essay when he recalls playing concerts at a retirement home.
Michael roots the essay in the physical space of his bedroom, but chooses a place that allows him to be creative and cover a lot of aspects of himself that might not be accessible in other parts of his application. The full-circle ending is a nice touch to further root the essay in the prompt. Michael does a wonderful job of demonstrating that you don’t need a particularly unique topic to create a memorable essay.
—Mia Karr
JANG LEE
Hometown: Flower Mound, Texas, USA
High School: Public school, 816 students in graduating class
Ethnicity: Asian
Gender: Male
GPA: 4.0 out of 4.0
SAT: Reading 800, Math 740, Writing 790
ACT: n/a
SAT Subject Tests Taken: Mathematics Level 2, Chemistry
Extracurriculars: President of art club / National Art Honor Society, vice president of Science National Honor Society, founding member and vice president of creative engagement and design for 501(c)3 nonprofit Raise4aCause, volunteer at church summer school
Awards: PSAT semifinalist, Welch Summer Scholar, 1 Scholastic Silver Key and 2 Gold Keys, artwork exhibited at the Texas Legislative Budget Board and part of the Texas Art Education Association traveling exhibition, Gold Seal at UIL Texas art competition (highest possible award given to .6% of artworks out of over twenty thousand submissions)
Major: Visual and Environmental Studies
ESSAY
Like it does on most nights, the smell of toxic fumes drifts through my room.
Occasionally washing my paintbrushes in turpentine oil thinner, I am uncomfortably aware that these vapors can cause brain damage, lung cancer, and chronic respiratory problems. My lifelong passion is killing me—literally. Yet, this smell is strangely comforting. It blankets me with a sense of security I find nowhere else.
An artist at the core, my paint-smeared heart pumps pigments of red through veins and arteries—the love for painting permeates every part of my body and has transformed me. By constantly observing subtle details of objects, breathtaking spectrums of color, and the interactions of lights and darks, my perception of the world has shifted.
I walk down the school hallway during passing period. Carried by a stream of teenage bodies, I notice ceiling lights scattering among clothes and locks of glossy hair. Looking down, shadows crisscross and overlap on the laminated floor to create a kaleidoscope of dancing silhouettes. Faces draw my attention—delicate hues of rosy pink on tips of ears and softly chiseled curves of bone. I observe my surroundings from an artist’s perspective, fully immersed in a state of perpetual learning.
Ultimately, my goal as an artist is to give my art personal, profound depth that transcends aesthetic purpose or technical skill. Paintings do not have to be of flowers or landscapes; they can portray story, emotion, and experience. Consequently, my art is inspired by personal experiences and observations. I hope to convey a fresh perspective of my life through strokes of color. The ambition of creating depth in my art forces me to reflect on myself as I continually ask why I am painting what I am painting. And because of the rigorous reflection of my values and experiences, I am given a greater sense of self-identity. This overwhelming position as an artist is humbling, teaching me an appreciation for self-worth often neglected or trivialized in a fast-paced American lifestyle. I want to show others this same value through my art so they can slow down to recognize and appreciate the value of their own lives.
Wonderland Unknown, a painting based on my favorite childhood story, Alice in Wonderland, depicts a rabbit in a forest of overgrown mushrooms and twisted trees. The piece builds on the idea that children’s innate creativity and capacity for imagination are stifled as they mature. Growing up, I began to feel estranged from the tale because it turned unrealistically ridiculous, a personal testimony to the slow deterioration of childhood wonder. Painting Wonderland Unknown was an epiphany—I realized that creativity is inherent: a universal thread within all of us that stitches humanity together. Most importantly, it is a trait that should be nurtured and valued instead of taken for granted.
Truly, art is a world of possibility and a world I would like to share.
It is a place where one is encouraged to break rules, be unapologetically audacious, and take pride in unorthodoxy. Ready to play creator of my universe, I rule with brush in one hand and palette in the other, painting because of a chance to explore this liberating world and discover myself through it. And in the end, art will always stay a constant in my life, forever my private sanctuary of creativity and personal expression. A place where I am infinite.
I feel relieved knowing that the smell of turpentine will always comfort me. It is a thin, oily smell of ironic undertones, vaguely nauseating and coffee-ground bitter. It is a smell that has given me life.
REVIEW
Jang’s essay is filled with beautiful phrasing and flowery descriptions, which shows off his writing skills and creativity. One of the biggest strengths of the essay is how Jang pairs explanation of art’s function in his life with an artistic analysis of the piece Wonderland Unknown.
Being able to write exceedingly well in a distinctive narrative form proves to be a strength for Jang. His essay weds two distinct types of writing—narrative and analytical—together, which is the very essence of what a good college essay should be. But, rather than present a single, overarching narrative, the writer takes the reader through separate vignettes: a crowded hallway, his work space at home, the scene depicted in the painting—all of which combine to provide a distinct and colorful look into the writer’s relationship with art.
—Brandon J. Dixon
Copyright © 2017 by the Staff of The Harvard Crimson