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.
My relationship with music began when I started taking piano lessons on the well-loved Kreutzer upright in my living room. As my repertoire expanded from “Chopsticks” to Chopin, I realized I loved music but was still searching for meaning. I dreamed of finding the source of inspiration that would transform my music from recital to reverie. In ninth grade, I was offered the organist position at a local church. It seemed like a good enough use of my time and musical ability, but the word “organist” conjured up an image of some reclusive, frumpily-dressed senior citizen swaying back and forth as they filled up a cathedral. I hadn’t realized the sublime appeal of the organ loft -there’s no other place that my music becomes such an immersive, mesmerizing experience. I’ve participated in my church as long as I can remember, and now I’m blessed to teach a Sunday School class of third- and fourth-graders. Despite these previous exposures, I’d never discovered the and purpose that I feel when I play the opening cadence of the Gloria or the Agnus Dei.
For the first nine years of my piano studies, only my family was privy to the “melodies” that I plunked out on my well-loved, Kreutzer upright piano. At the time, music was no more to me than a casual pursuit. However, in ninth grade, I was offered the organist position at a local church. It seemed like a good enough use of my time and musical ability. but I’d never thought about being an organist before. The word “organist” used to immediately conjure up an image of some reclusive, frumpily-dressed senior citizen swaying back and forth as they filled up a cathedral. While I have some sartorial sense, I’ve learned why organists are such hermits: there’s no other place that I feel such total contentment. I’m no stranger to churches: I’ve participated in ny church as long as I can remember, and now I’m blessed to teach a Sunday School class of third- and fourth-graders. Despite these previous exposures, I’d never discovered such serenity as I feel when I play the opening cadence of the Gloria or the Agnus Dei.
For the first nine years of my piano studies, only my family was privy to the “melodies” that I plunked out on my well-loved, Kreutzer upright piano. At the time, music was no more to me than a casual pursuit. However, in ninth grade, I was offered the organist position at a local church. It seemed like a good enough use of my time and musical ability. but I’d never thought about being an organist before. The word “organist” used to immediately conjure up an image of some reclusive, frumpily-dressed senior citizen swaying back and forth as they filled up a cathedral. While I have some sartorial sense, I’ve learned why organists are such hermits: there’s no other place that I feel such total contentment. I’m no stranger to churches: I’ve participated in my church as long as I can remember, and now I’m blessed to teach a Sunday School class of third- and fourth-graders. Despite these previous exposures, I’d never discovered such serenity as I feel when I play the opening cadence of the Gloria or the Agnus Dei.
Published in Common Application Essays, Princeton Common Application Essays, Successful College Essays, Successful Princeton Essays
