Desire quickly followed my amazement — I want to continue this project and study more brains. Graduate School. One reason is the belief that a strong education involves encountering values, beliefs, and perspectives that are different from, and that may even challenge, your own Caltech makes this what is diversity essay explicit in its prompt above, what is diversity essay. Going to school regularly was always a struggle: between the unceasing demands of the farm and our lack of connectivity, it was hard to keep up with my studies. By embracing reality, I learned to live it.
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While working on your college applications, you may come across essays that focus on diversityculture, what is diversity essay, or values. The purpose of these essays is to highlight any diverse views or opinions that you may bring to campus. These essay prompts are a way for them to see what students can bring to their school. These culture and diversity essay examples were all written by real students. Read these examples to inspire your writing, what is diversity essay. I was thirsty. I swept them into a spare Ziploc and began to leave when a classmate snatched the bag and held it above my head. I had forgotten the Star-of-David around my neck, but quickly realized she must have seen it and connected it to the stacks of coins.
I am no stranger to experiencing and confronting anti-Semitism, but I had never been targeted in my school before, what is diversity essay. I grabbed my bag and sternly told her to leave. Although she sauntered away, the impact remained. This incident serves as an example of the adversity I have and will continue to face from those who only see me as a stereotype. Ironically, however, these experiences of discrimination have only increased my pride as a member of the Jewish Community. Continuing to wear the Star-of-David connects what is diversity essay to my history and my family. I find meaning and direction from community values such as pride, education, and giving, and I am eager to transfer these values to my new community: the Duke community.
Then, my family abandoned our comfortable life in Bangladesh for a chance at the American dream in Los Angeles. Within our first year, my father was diagnosed with thyroid cancer. He lost his battle three weeks before my sixth birthday. Facing a new country without the steady presence of my father, what is diversity essay, we were vulnerable — prisoners of hardship in the land of the free. It was meant to be our refuge, but I felt more displaced than ever. Gone were the high-rise condos of West L. Pedestrians no longer smiled and greeted me; the atmosphere what is diversity essay hostile, even toxic. Meanwhile, my family began integrating into the local Bangladeshi community.
I struggled to understand those who shared my heritage, what is diversity essay. Bangladeshi mothers stayed home while fathers drove what is diversity essay and sold fruit by the roadside — painful societal positions. Riding on crosstown buses or walking home from school, I began to internalize these disparities. During my fleeting encounters with affluent Upper East Siders, I saw kids my age with nannies, parents who wore suits to work, and luxurious apartments with spectacular views. Most took cabs to their destinations: cabs that Bangladeshis drove. I watched the mundane moments of their lives with longing, aching to plant myself in their shoes. Shame prickled down my spine.
I distanced myself from my heritage, rejecting the traditional panjabis worn on Eid and refusing the torkari we ate for dinner every day. As I grappled with my relationship with the Bangladeshi community, I turned my attention to helping my Bronx community by pursuing an internship with Assemblyman Luis Sepulveda. I handled desk work and took calls, spending the bulk of my time actively listening to the hardships constituents faced — everything from a veteran stripped of his benefits to a grandmother unable to support her bedridden grandchild. As an intern, I could only assist in what felt like the small ways — pointing out local job offerings, printing information on free ESL classes, reaching out to non-profits.
But to a community facing an onslaught of intense struggles, I realized that something as small as these actions could have vast impacts. Seeing the immediate consequences of my actions inspired me. I began to stop seeing the prevalent underemployment and cramped living quarters less as sources of shame. Instead, I saw them as realities that had to be acknowledged, but could ultimately be remedied. I also realized the benefits of the Bangladeshi culture I had been so ashamed of. My Bangla language skills were an asset to the office, and my understanding of Bangladeshi etiquette allowed for smooth what is diversity essay between office staff and its constituents. As I helped my neighbors navigate city services, I what is diversity essay my heritage with pride — a perspective I never expected to have.
I can now appreciate the value of my unique culture and background, and of living with less. This perspective offers room for progress, community integration, and a future worth fighting for. Far from being ashamed of my community, I want to someday return to local politics in the Bronx to continue helping others access the American Dream. I hope to help my community appreciate the opportunity to make progress together. By embracing reality, I learned to live it. Along the way, I discovered one thing: life is good, but we can make it better. I took my first trip to China to visit my cousin Anna in July of Her sparkling personality and optimistic attitude always brought a smile to my face. This time, however, my heart broke when I saw the effects of her brain cancer; she had suffered from a stroke that paralyzed her left side.
She was still herself in many ways, but I could see that what is diversity essay damage to her brain made things difficult for her. Would I ever see Anna again? Could I have done more to make Anna comfortable? I wished I could stay in China longer to care for her. As I deplaned, I wondered if I could transform my grief to help other children and teenagers in the US who suffered as Anna did. The day after I got home, as jet lag dragged me awake a few minutes after midnight, I remembered hearing about the Family Reach Foundation FRF and its work with children going through treatments at the local hospital and their families. Volunteering has both made me appreciate my own health and also cherish the new relationships I build with the children and families.
We play sports, make figures out of playdoh, what is diversity essay, and dress up. When they take on the roles of firefighters or fairies, we all get caught up in the game; for that time, they forget the sanitized, stark, impersonal walls of the pediatric oncology ward. Building close relationships with them and seeing them giggle and laugh is so rewarding — I love watching them grow and get better throughout their course what is diversity essay treatment. To get started, I enrolled in a summer collegelevel course in Abnormal Psychology. There I worked with Catelyn, a rising college senior, on a data analysis project regarding Dissociative Identity Disorder DID.
Together, we examined the neurological etiology of DID by studying four fMRI and PET cases. I fell in love with gathering data and analyzing the results and was amazed by our final product: several stunning brain images showcasing the areas of hyper and hypoactivity in brains affected by DID. Desire quickly followed my amazement — I want to continue this project and study what is diversity essay brains. Their complexity, what is diversity essay, delicacy, and importance to every aspect of life fascinate me. Sadly, a few months after I returned from China, what is diversity essay, Anna passed away. Leadership was thrust upon me at a young age. From having to watch over my little sister to cooking dinner three nights a week, I never lived an ideal what is diversity essay life.
Instead, I spent my childhood navigating legal hurdles, shouldering family responsibilities, and begrudgingly attending court-mandated therapy sessions. At the same time, I tried to get decent grades and maintain my Colombian roots and Spanish fluency enough to at least partially communicate with my grandparents, both of whom speak little English. Although my childhood had its bright and joyful moments, much of it was weighty and would have been exhausting for any child to bear. I grew up fast. What is diversity essay, the responsibilities I took on at home prepared me to lead and to work diligently, setting me up to later use them in life. Shortly after being cast, I was elected as Freshman Vice-President, a role that put me in charge of promoting events, delegating daily office tasks, collaborating with the administration on new school initiatives, and planning trips and fundraisers.
While it demanded a significant amount of responsibility, my childhood of helping my mom manage our household prepared me to be successful in the role. When I saw the happy faces of my classmates after a big event, I felt proud to know that I had made a small difference for them. Seeing projects through to a successful outcome was thrilling. I enjoyed my time and responsibilities so much that I served all four years of high school, going on to what is diversity essay Executive Vice-President. As I found success in high school, my mother and grandparents began speaking more about the life they faced prior to emigrating from Colombia.
To better connect with them, I took a series of Spanish language classes to regain my fluency. After a practice run through my presentation on Bendiceme Ultima Bless me, Ultima, by Rudolofo Anaya with my grandmother, she squeezed my hand and told me the story of how my family was forced from their home in order to live free of religious persecution. I felt that much of it was erased with my loss of our native language. In elementary school, I learned English best because in class I was surrounded by it. Spanish was more difficult to grasp without a formal education, and my family urged me to become fluent in English so I could be of better what is diversity essay to them in places as disparate as government agencies and grocery stores.
When I was old enough to recognize the large part of my identity still rooted in being Colombian, it was challenging to connect these two sides what is diversity essay who I was. Over time I have been able to reconcile the two in the context of my aspirations. I found purpose and fulfillment through student council, and I knew that I could help other families like my own if I worked in local government. By working through city offices that address housing, education, and support for survivors of childhood abuse, I could give others the same liberties and opportunities my family has enjoyed in this country. Doing so would also help me honor my roots as a first-generation American. I have been a leader for my whole life. Both at Harvard and after graduation, I want to continue that trend.
I hope to volunteer with organizations that share my goals. I want to advise politicians on policy-making that will make children and new immigrants safer and more secure. When my family was at their worst, my community gave back. I hope to give that gift to future generations. I never understood the power of community until I left home to join seven strangers in the Ecuadorian rainforest. Although we flew in from distant corners of the U. Back home in my predominantly conservative suburb, my neighbors had brushed off environmental concerns.
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However, the responsibilities I took on at home prepared me to lead and to work diligently, setting me up to later use them in life. Shortly after being cast, I was elected as Freshman Vice-President, a role that put me in charge of promoting events, delegating daily office tasks, collaborating with the administration on new school initiatives, and planning trips and fundraisers. While it demanded a significant amount of responsibility, my childhood of helping my mom manage our household prepared me to be successful in the role. When I saw the happy faces of my classmates after a big event, I felt proud to know that I had made a small difference for them. Seeing projects through to a successful outcome was thrilling. I enjoyed my time and responsibilities so much that I served all four years of high school, going on to become Executive Vice-President.
As I found success in high school, my mother and grandparents began speaking more about the life they faced prior to emigrating from Colombia. To better connect with them, I took a series of Spanish language classes to regain my fluency. After a practice run through my presentation on Bendiceme Ultima Bless me, Ultima, by Rudolofo Anaya with my grandmother, she squeezed my hand and told me the story of how my family was forced from their home in order to live free of religious persecution. I felt that much of it was erased with my loss of our native language.
In elementary school, I learned English best because in class I was surrounded by it. Spanish was more difficult to grasp without a formal education, and my family urged me to become fluent in English so I could be of better help to them in places as disparate as government agencies and grocery stores. When I was old enough to recognize the large part of my identity still rooted in being Colombian, it was challenging to connect these two sides of who I was. Over time I have been able to reconcile the two in the context of my aspirations. I found purpose and fulfillment through student council, and I knew that I could help other families like my own if I worked in local government.
By working through city offices that address housing, education, and support for survivors of childhood abuse, I could give others the same liberties and opportunities my family has enjoyed in this country. Doing so would also help me honor my roots as a first-generation American. I have been a leader for my whole life. Both at Harvard and after graduation, I want to continue that trend. I hope to volunteer with organizations that share my goals. I want to advise politicians on policy-making that will make children and new immigrants safer and more secure. When my family was at their worst, my community gave back. I hope to give that gift to future generations. I never understood the power of community until I left home to join seven strangers in the Ecuadorian rainforest.
Although we flew in from distant corners of the U. Back home in my predominantly conservative suburb, my neighbors had brushed off environmental concerns. Contrastingly, these seven strangers delighted in bird-watching, brightened at the mention of medicinal tree sap, and understood why I once ran across a four-lane highway to retrieve discarded beer cans. Their histories barely resembled mine, yet our values aligned intimately. We did not hesitate to joke about bullet ants, gush about the versatility of tree bark, or discuss the destructive consequences of materialism. Together, we let our inner tree huggers run free.
In the short life of our little community, we did what we thought was impossible. After a week of stimulating conversations and introspective revelations about engaging people from our hometowns in environmental advocacy, we developed a shared determination to devote our lives to this cause. I glanced behind me hopefully, only to see my students standing frozen like statues, the fear in their eyes as clear as the ice they swayed on. My first day as a Learn-to-Skate coach was not going as planned. But amid my frustration, I was struck by how much my students reminded me of myself as a young skater.
At seven, I had been fascinated by Olympic performers who executed thrilling high jumps and dizzying spins with apparent ease, and I dreamed to one day do the same. Nonetheless, my coach remained unfailingly optimistic, motivating me through my worst spills and teaching me to find opportunities in failures. I remember the day a frustrated staff member directed Oliver, a particularly hesitant young skater, toward me, hoping that my patience and steady encouragement might help him improve. I soon found though, that this only increased his fear of gliding on his own, so I changed my approach, making lessons as exciting as possible in hopes that he would catch the skating bug and take off.
Together we celebrated this milestone, his ecstasy fueling my excitement and his pride mirroring my own. At that moment, I was both teacher and student, his progress instilling in me the importance of patience and a positive attitude. Since then, my tolerance for the cold has remained stubbornly low, but the rest of me has certainly changed. In sharing my passion for skating, I have found a wonderful community of eager athletes, loving parents, and dedicated coaches from whom I have learned invaluable lessons and wisdom. Likewise, my relationships with parents have given me an even greater gratitude for the role they play: no one goes to the rink without a parent behind the wheel!
Since that first lesson, I have mentored dozens of children, and over the years, witnessed tentative steps transform into powerful glides and tears give way to delighted grins. My whole family is sitting around the living room on a lazy Sunday afternoon when we suddenly hear sirens. Lots of sirens. Everyone stops. My dad peers out the window, trying to get a glimpse of the highway. My mom gets up and goes to the phone. After a few stressful rings, the person on the other line answers. Nice hook! Is Josh ok? Who is this Josh? Josh is my fourteen-year-old cousin, and he lives less than a mile from my house. Whenever we hear sirens, my mom will give their house a call or shoot my aunt a text, just in case.
Josh was born with a syndrome which affected the formation of the bones of his head and face. As a result, his hearing, vision, breathing and some of his brain structures are compromised. Here the author gives context by explaining who Josh is. Living so close to Josh, we have had the opportunity to interact daily. This game was perfect for Josh, as he could stay in a comfortable seat and still experience speed and excitement that he is usually barred from. In this paragraph, the author shows us how close he is with Josh, and the final sentence shows his sensitivity. It goes without saying that Josh has not had an easy childhood. He has had to fight for his life in the hospital when his peers were learning how to multiply and divide in school or playing capture the flag on the beach.
A large portion of his childhood has been arbitrarily taken from him. That is most obviously unfair. At our high school, I see Josh every day walking from second period to third period, and every day I say hello and have a small conversation with him. One day I was walking with a few of my friends when I stopped to talk with him. My friends were horrified, and chastised me as they saw appropriate. He is not some extremely delicate dandelion who falls apart at every breath that causes a slightly adverse situation. All Josh wants is to be treated like any other person. He is my cousin, and he is my friend, so I treat him as such.
We joke, we make fun of each other, just as any other two friends do. The author chooses to treat Josh as he would treat any of his friends — like a normal human being. Josh has proved to me that people with disabilities are exactly that—people. As if that needed proving. One of my favorite people on Earth has lived a life of disability. And he plays a mean game of Monopoly. Here, he connects the dots and provides a bit more insight: Treating people differently because of their disability can be dehumanizing. And for some reason, that Monopoly line makes me cry every time. Have some fun exploring. Click here to learn how to write essays for tons of different prompts.
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