Life

Sunday, January 13, 2013

Introducing Clark Kent and Willy Wonka

"Introducing Clark Kent and Willy Wonka"
By Daniel G. Habib
My childhood passions oscillated between two poles: St. Catherine's Park and the
67th Street branch of the New York Public Library. Located across Sixty-Seventh
Street from one another, the two crystallized the occupations of my youth. On a
typical day, I moved between a close-knit group of friends at the park to largely solitary stays at the library. My recreational pursuits were communal; my intellectual pursuits were individual. The gulf was pronounced: friends rarely joined
my mother and me as we meandered among the stacks, and the books I obtained
from the library never accompanied me to the basketball courts or the jungle gym. Generally, I slipped away from the park during a lull in the action and returned as stealthily as I had gone, foisting Roald Dahl paperbacks on my mother and
scrambling to rejoin my friends in arguing the relative merits of the Hulk and Superman. I never thought to integrate these passions; they remained firmly segregated. That Clark Kent and Willy Wonka should never cross paths was a given;
the giants existed in separate realms of my life.
More than anything else, my Regis career has reversed that assumption. I now
recognize that my intellectual growth and my peer community are inextricably
linked. I have come to regard those who surround me not simply as a network of friends, but most vitally as components in the ongoing work of education. I
understand that an individualized process of learning is intellectually impoverished.
The most startling of my educational epiphanies have occurred in the context of
fellow students. Case in point: my acquaintance with Albert Camus' absurdist
manifesto, The Stranger. My first reading of the classic, in sixth grade, came in an atomized intellectual climate. As a result, my understanding of Camus' philosophy was tenuous, so much so that, feeling incapable of defending or even articulating my interpretation of the work, I eschewed any discussion and shunned the chance for error. Satisfied in my ignorance, I disdainfully explained to my inquiring parents,
"Oh, it wasn't much of a murder mystery. You know who kills the Arab all along. And that whole mother angle just doesn't fit." My second encounter with Camus came in
my junior French elective, this time in the company of an insightful octet of
Francophones. As we grappled with Camus' vision of the absurd world and
Meursault's statement of revolt, an understanding emerged from the sundrenched
Algerian beach. Each member of the class offered his insights for consideration,
risking the scrutiny of the group but confident in its intellectual generosity. The
rigorous standards of the class, and our common desire for understanding, led
eventually to firmer comprehension. My balanced interpretation of Camus derived
only from the intensity of discussion, the contributions of my peers, and our mutual
willingness to share our insights.
Through my participation in Regis' Speech and Debate Society, I have continued in my quest for the acquisition of knowledge through the group. Extemporaneous Speaking requires that a speaker provide a thorough analysis of a current
events/policy proposition, after considering and synthesizing numerous sources.
Speakers engage each other on subjects ranging from democratic and free-market
reforms in Boris Yeltsin's Russia to the prospects for a Medicare overhaul in the
Republican Congress. Practices involve evaluation by fellow team members and
success depends intimately on an accurate common understanding of the issues
Lincoln-Douglas Debate, similarly, entails team formulations of argument based on
philosophical principles. We prepare as a team, and I have been privileged to benefit from teammates' sophisticated applications and elucidations of issues as diverse as
social contract theory and international ethical mandates.
The group character of the team's intellectual strivings was brought to bear most strongly at the Harvard Invitational, in the winter of my junior year. Debaters were
asked to evaluate the proposition that "American society is well-served by the maintenance of a separate culture for the deaf." The evening before the tournament
began, sixteen debaters massed in one hotel room at the Howard Johnson's on
Memorial Drive, and, fueled by peanut butter and marshmallow sandwiches and
gallons of coffee, we wrangled over the specifics of the unique resolution. The
assimilationist camp suggested that the achievement of group dignity and a private
identity for the deaf had to occur against the backdrop of a larger public identity. The
separatism inherent in ASL or deaf schools fatally divorced the group from meaningful participation in the American democracy. True cultural uniqueness required a common frame of reference. Conversely, the deaf separatist partisans
maintained that this decidedly marginalized minority deserved a distinctness of
culture commensurate with the distinctness of its experience. Separation allowed dignity and empowerment.
As the hours wore on and the dialectic raged out of control, positions became more
entrenched, but paradoxically a truer comprehension arose. The eloquence and
persuasiveness with which each side advanced its interpretation furthered the
exchange. We acknowledged and respected the logic of those with whom we disagreed, and we reinforced our own convictions by articulating and defending them. At 1:30, bedraggled, exhausted, and happily not unanimous in perspective,
we regretfully dispersed to our rooms, to sleep off the effects of the session.
If I began my educational career as an intellectual monopolist, I have evolved into a collectivist. On our last day of summer vacation, a dozen Regis students spent an afternoon in the Yankee Stadium bleachers, arguing the possible outcomes of the
American League pennant race, then returned to Manhattan's Central Park to attend the New York Shakespeare Festival's arresting and hyper-controversial production of Troilus and Cressida. As we exited the Delacorte Theater, we reflected on the modernization of Shakespeare's message. Some praised its transmission of
bleakness and pessimism; others joined critics in attacking its excesses and its
artistic license in manipulating the original. Our consensus on the Bronx Bombers'
chances in October was firmer than that on the Greek conquest of Troy, but the
essential truth remains. Regis has wonderfully fused the communal and the intellectual phases of my life.
ANALYSIS
Writing about an outstanding learning experience is a fairly common approach to the personal statement. But while many applicants may choose a defining and
distinct moment – winning the state speech tournament or setting the school record
for the highest GPA –as an experience worth retelling, Habib instead chooses to
chronicle the gradual process of intellectual maturation. By choosing this topic, Habib has the opportunity to reflect on his education and recount several formative experiences, not just resort to trite descriptions of winning or losing.
Habib's thesis – that one's communal life and intellectual pursuits are only enhanced
when fused together – is a somewhat abstract and difficult argument to make, at least for a high school senior. The fact that Habib makes the argument successfully,
through the use of details and concrete examples, makes the essay all the more impressive.
Still, the essay isn't perfect. It's long. The sentences can be complex and a bit
convoluted. The language used, while enough to impress any Kaplan SAT instructor,
could be toned down to make the essay more readerfriendly. Habib could have
easily shortened his statement by using fewer examples of real-life learning
experiences. Or the experiences he shares could have been shortened: the admissions committee may not need to know the exact arguments and counter-argument Habib's Lincoln-Douglas debate team drafted for the Harvard tournament.
Overall, Habib's essay helps distinguish him from other applicants by taking an interesting approach to a common theme and using concrete supporting arguments.
All in all, it is a well-written essay enhanced by personal insights, examples, and the all-important details.

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