10篇哈佛大学最新录取文书出炉！原来招生官想看这些东西

　　申请季中，文书质量的好坏直接影响学校是否会录取你！因为——

　　如果你的“软硬实力”都不错，不能高兴的太早，不走心的文书可能会让优势变劣势！

　　如果你申请条件不理想，也不用太担心，一篇优秀的文书很可能让你逆袭！

　　可见，文书对于申请可谓至关重要！

　　，虽然大家都知道文书很重要，但每年仍有很多学生表示写文书真太头秃，到底没有一招制胜的“文书秘籍”？

　　对此，小编认为，与其在网络中搜寻真假难辨的“文书攻略”，不如先看看官方披露的权威范例！

　　哈佛大学的官方校报The Crimson曾公布了「2020年度10篇成功申请哈佛大学的文书」。

　　来源

　　https://.thecrimson./ic/sponsored-suessful-harvard-essays-2020/

　　这10篇文书均为哈佛官方公认的优秀范例，是经过招生官的“火眼金睛”，层层选拔出来的“压卷之作”！

　　接下来，小编将为大家带来其中9篇优秀文书的全文及官方的犀利点评。

　　，为了方便大家参阅，贴心的小编还将「2018-2020年哈佛大学精选文书」整理为了PDF礼包，记得在文末领取哦~

　　哈佛大学2020年优秀文书精选

　　01

　　I think the most tragic part of my childhood originated from my sheer inability to find anything engraved ith my na. I never had a CHAFFEE license plate on my hand--don red Schinn. No one ever gave a key chain or ffee mug ith the beautiful loops of those double Fs and Es. Alas, I as destined to search through the nas; longingly staring at the space beteen CHAD and CHARLOTTE hoping one day a miracle ould our. Fortunately, this is one of the fe negative aspects of a na like “Chaffee Duckers.”

　　My na has alays been an integral part of my identity. Sure, it sounds a bit like my parents created it from a bag of Scrabble tiles, but it es from a long-lost ancestor, Comfort Chaffee. No it’s all mine. In my opinion, a na can make or break a person. The ability to embody a na depends on the individual. My greatest goal in life is to be the kind of unique person deserving of a na so utterly random and absurd.

　　I began my journey in preschool. Nothing about scread normal. I as not prim, proper, and poised. I preferred sneaking aay from my preschool classroom, barefoot, in the purple velvet dress I ore every single day to resting obediently during nap ti.

　　I gre up in a family akin to a modified Brady Bunch. Stepsisters, half sisters, stepbrothers, and stepparents joined my previously miniscule household. But in a family of plain nas like Chris, Bill, John, Liz, Katherine, and Mark, I as still the only Chaffee.

　　I as a bit of a reverse black sheep in my family. My na helped carve an identity separate from my myriad of siblings. Instead of enriching my brain ith Grand Theft Auto, I preferred begging my parents to take to the bookstore.

　　While my parents mandated hoork ti for my brothers, they never questioned my ork ethic or iretapped my assignnt notebook. The thing that set apart from the herd as that I as self-disciplined enough to take ntrol of my on life. From the very beginning I never depended on my parents’ help or motivation to finish my schoolork. Putting school first ca naturally to , much to the distaste and nfusion of my siblings. My ork ethic beca knon as the patented “Chaffee Method.”

　　As I got older, I began to embody my na more and more. I didn’t ant to be that girl ith the eird na in the back of the class eating her hair, so I learned ho to project my ideas in both ritten and spoken forms. I as often picked to lead classroom discussions and my plete disregard for making a fool of myself bolstered that skill. The manner in hich I operate academically is perfectly described as Chaffee-esque; including but not limited to elaborate study songs, plex pneumonic devices, study forts, and the oasional John C. Calhoun stu.

　　I take pride in the nfusion on a person’s face hen they first read my na. Seeing soone struggle over those to unfamiliar syllables fills ith glee. I feel as though I am adding a ne ord to their vocabulary. So on my last day as a page in the U.S. Senate, I prepared myself for the anticipated akard stumbling as Senator Harry Reid thanked by na in his closing address. But the stumble never ca. I felt very humbled by his perfect pronunciation. Perhaps Chaffee is actually catching on!

　　文书点评

　　这是一篇非常具有说服力的文章。CHAFFEE拥有一个非常特别的“名字”，她在文书中清晰地叙述了关于自己“名字”的故事。

　　毋庸置疑，将个人生活中独一无二的经历写进文书，对申请任何大学来说都是非常聪明的选择。

　　CHAFFEE巧妙地通过“名字”塑造了自己的成长历程，详细地阐述了自己与其他人的不同之处，充分证明了“名字”在她一生中的重要性。

　　02

　　I am standing behind my high school hen a snoball pelts my side ith a thud and splatters across my jacket, vering ith a fine, icy dust. My beildered eyes trace the snoball’s trajectory until they fall upon a pair of snickering hoodlums crouched behind a small mountain of snoballs. They must have been aiting all afternoon for an unsuspecting student to alk by, and perhaps for emphasis, one of the boys looks in the eye and raises a grimy middle finger. Quickly, I mold a handful of sno into a sphere ith cupped hands and ck my arm back.

　　I haven’t thron anything in a hile, but muscle mory guides through the requisite motions. I played softball for eight years, and my athletic strength as alays my throing arm; in fifth grade, hen my ach asked to thro the ball from third to first, I hurled the ball ith such force that the catch knocked him off-balance. Upon entering high school, it seed natural that I ould play on the school’s softball team.

　　Hoever, my body had other ideas. Throughout middle school I’d developed increasingly painful body aches, and in freshman year I aoke one morning ith a brutal headache perating the cron of my head and the bones of my face as though a vice had been clamped to my skull overnight. After nsulting more doctors than I can rember, I as diagnosed ith fibromyalgia.

　　Fibromyalgia is characterized by chronic idespread pain and extre sensitivity to touch. My neurologist describes fibromyalgia as “headache of the body.” Personally, I favor my father’s description; after one particularly painful and exhausting day he aptly proclaid, “Fibromyalgia is your body’s ay of giving you the finger.”

　　Agonizing muscle cramps mocked nstantly, preventing from alking longer than five minutes ithout groing exhausted. The pressure above my eyes sneered at henever I attempted to read or rite. Even after I found dications to temper the headaches just enough so I uld return to school ith sporadic attendance, sharp pains gnaed at my body ith haughty derision if I even thought about returning to the softball fields and the activities I loved.

　　For months I tried to ignore the cruel obscenities fibromyalgia hurled my ay, steadfastly believing the pain ould soon subside and I ould achieve everything I had planned for myself if I simply disregarded the taunting aches and orked doggedly to catch up at school. But hen softball season arrived, it beca apparent that hile determination and intelligence uld preserve my GPA in the face of fibromyalgia, there as no personal attribute or skill that uld heal my body and allo to join my teammates on the field.

　　It as ti to nfront the beast.

　　In doing so, I kept in mind the schoolyard aphorism that there is strength in numbers. I did not face fibromyalgia alone, but ith mathematics by my side. Baseball is a ga of statistics, and if fibromyalgia threatened to steal the sport I loved through physical deterioration, I ould outsmart this insolent illness and reclaim onership of baseball through intellectual pursuits. I began a mathematical research project, analyzing the effectiveness of current baseball statistics, as ell as deriving my on.

　　Fibromyalgia forced to redefine my goals and personal standards for suess. This baseball project as my first step toard reclaiming my life and laying the foundation for victory over my illness. As calculations replaced pitching drills, my passion for baseball as channeled into a burgeoning love of science and math. Hours I had previously devoted to softball beca filled ith scientific journals and books, and sumrs I used to spend at athletic camps ere devoted to research at local universities. Baseball provided a link to my pre-fibromyalgia life at a ti hen I desperately needed one, and through baseball I realized that if I anted to beat fibromyalgia, I uld not simply hope it ould disappear overnight. Whether I modified my dications or adapted my schedule, I needed to devise my on ay to face fibromyalgia’s antagonizing aches head-on.

　　So hen that taunting rascal aves his middle finger in my direction, my cheeks do not flush ith angry humiliation and my legs do not run aay, but my hands mold a snoball and my arm pulls back. As I follo through ith my thro, pain radiating up my arm, I kno instantly that I ill pay for this exertion in the morning. But my icy eback hits the sniggering boy squarely in the chest, knocking him backard into the sno as his acplice’s mouth lies agape in shock.

　　Well. I guess I’ve still got it.

　　文书点评

　　整个故事首尾呼应，非常完整。

　　学生以“打雪仗”的经历开篇，巧妙地将这个故事与自己的体育天赋联系起来，接着又讲述了自己与病痛斗争的过程，以及在面对身体限制时，她如何将自己的热情转向科学和数学。

　　这篇文章涵盖了很多有价值的内容，包括她克服困难的经历、发现学术激情的过程、以及她拥有的个人成就，使招生官看到了她独特的性格和奋斗精神。

　　虽然文章很长，但通篇没有一个字是“无用”的。她不仅通过详细的感官描述令读者身临其境，还在文字中编织了很多幽默以及“厚脸皮”的态度，丰富多彩的语言令她活泼坚韧的个性熠熠生辉。

　　03

　　A light breeze caressing the rnfield makes it look like a gentle saying sea of gold under the ginger sun of late sumr. A child’s chi-like laughter echoes. As I rush through the rnfield, I hear the rustling of leaves and the murmur of life hidden among the stems that toer over .

　　I rember the joy of the day hen I solved one of my first difficult binatorics problems at my parents’ house in the untryside. I felt so exhilarated that I ran outside and into the rnfield. As I as passing ro after ro of stems, I realized the rnfield as actually a giant matrix ith thousands of binations of possible pathays, just like the binatorics problem I had just solved. I looked at the sky and I thought about the great mathematicians of the past that ntributed so much to this field and about ho I have added yet another dinsion to my matrix. Suddenly, mathematics appeared to as a 3D live map here staggering arrays of ideas nnect each other by steady flos of sheer isdom.

　　Suddenly a loud laughter from the next room akes up from my reverie. I am back in my room in the drab dormitory here I lived since I as fifteen. The dim sunset barely lightens up my room, hile the ld November ind rushes from the broken-and-nded-ith-tape indo on the hallay, histling beneath my door. My roommates haven’t returned yet, and I feel alone and isolated.

　　In monts such as these I alays take out the ultimate eapon against gloominess: the picture of my family. I look at myself, my parents, my little sister, and my grandfather at the untryside, under a clear blue sky, hugging, sharing the joy of being together. It reminds of the old tis, hen life as simpler, but it also reminds of hy I ca to Bucharest to live in a dormitory. It as because mathematics fascinated ith its beautiful and intricate theories and nfigurations, and my parents and my family supported 150 percent. They put in long hours at ork to pay for school sts and they selflessly aepted my long absences. I decided then to honor their support, follo our mon dream, and bee an acplished mathematician.

　　Finally today I nsider I matched at least an infinitesimal part of my parents’ ork. After untless Olympiad stages and fierce selection programs, I managed to in a gold dal at the International Mathematical Olympiad, along ith sring hat is called “an ace”: getting gold dals in the National Olympiad, the Balkan Olympiad, and the International Olympiad.

　　Math, for , is a vast map of knoledge here theories intersect each other like pathays in a rnfield, and that explains the las of nature and the universe itself. Hoever, no matter hat mathematical sphere shall I soar in, I ill alays have my family ith and the joy of that day hen I as running freely in the rnfield.

　　文书点评

　　这位同学巧妙的运用了复杂的叙事转换和并列手法。在他的笔下，美丽的田园风光和玉米地转换为了完全出乎意料、令人振奋的数学领悟。

　　这个比喻有效地将丰富的触觉体验与抽象的认知体验结合在一起。在这种遐想中，我们看到了学生自由的思想、活跃的思维能力以及受好奇心驱动的探索力。

　　04

　　“Let’s face it, you’re slo,” my violin teacher said.

　　He as, as alays, plaining that running as detracting from my practice ti.

　　That sumd up hat running had alays ant to , ever since I as a seventh grader, choosing his sport for the first ti. I as fine and ntent, hoever. I alays had Jeffrey and Archie, classmates like ho ran sloly. We ere good friends. We laughed together; e raced together; e pushed each other, and endured tough orkouts together. But after middle school the people I trained ith ent on to do things they ere better at. I remained, even though I as not good enough to be nsidered for varsity.

　　High school running as hell. I struggled ith orkouts, most of hich I had to run alone. In the hot, dry days of autumn, I often ughed on the dust trails left by my teammates as they vanished into the distance. During the orkouts, I got passed incessantly, almost getting run over on oasion. It hurt not to be important; to be dead eight for the team. I looked forard to the next year, hen I uld hopefully run ith the ining freshn.

　　It didn’t happen that ay. Even a year later, I as still the sloest on the team. Ho uld the freshn ho had snored off the hole sumr beat , a veteran from middle school and high school ith decent sumr training? I nevertheless rensidered the effectiveness of my training, and looked forard to getting “back in shape.” It as only after my ndition had been deteriorating steadily for a fe eeks that I began to feel a ne level of humiliation. I started to have trouble keeping up ith old ladies in the park, and each day I orked frantically to prevent the disvery of that fact by my teammates, running toard the sketchy areas of the ramble, in the south, here there’s barely anybody. My mother, orried about the steady deterioration of my ndition, ntacted a doctor.

　　I as anemic.

　　The doctor prescribed a daily iron pill, and the results ere exhilarating. I joked that I as taking steroids. I sunk into endless oxygen. I got tired less. During the orkouts, I felt more machine than man. Iron therapy taught sothing fundantal. It reminded hy I as running; hy I had stuck to this damn sport for four straight years. When I as anemic, I struggled to gather hat little motivation I had for those painfully slo jogs in those parks. Putting the effort in, and seeing the dramatic results fooled my mind like a ell-administered placebo. Iron therapy as the training heels that ould jump-start my dramatic improvent.

　　It took four months—four months of iron pills, blood tests, and training—to get back to my personal best: the 5:46 mile that I had run the year before. Early February that year, the training heels ca off. I as running close to seven miles a day on my on. But I asn’t unting. I uld catch a light. I uld alk as many stairs as I anted ithout getting tired. I as even far ahead of here I as the year before. After to and a half years as a 5:50 miler, I finally had a breakthrough race. I ran a 5:30. I asked ach if I uld eventually break 5 minutes. He told to focus more on maintaining my fitness through spring break.

　　I ran the mile again, this ti outdoors. Coach had seeded at a 5:30. I ran the first lap, holding back. I didn’t ant to overextend myself. I hoped to squeeze by ith a 5:35. The euphoria as unprecedented as I realized by the send lap that I as a dozen sends ahead and still holding back. I finished ith a 5:14.

　　On the bus ride back from the et, one of my long-standing dreams ca true. I pretended to ignore Coach sitting next to , but he kept on giving glances. He as excited about my ti. We talked a lot about the race. We talked about my ntinuous and dramatic improvent. He said it as early in the season and that I ould break 5 minutes after only a fe eeks of training.

　　Six eeks later, Mr. Song, my chemistry teacher, asked if I had broken 5 minutes for the mile yet. I told him all about ho I had run in three ets over the past month and had failed to break 5:15 on every one of them. I told him that 5 minutes as no for a mirage in the distance. Mr. Song, hoever, did not sho much ncern: “You’re just overtrained. Once you ease up before the big et, you’ll drop in ti once more.”

　　Even though these nsoling ords ere from the man ho had baffled my nutritionist hen he had guessed that I as anemic, I still doubted his isdom. On Sunday, I ould run the mile once. My last mile of the year. This as it. Using my tried-and-true racing strategy, I finished ith a 5:02, a 12- send drop in ti. Mr. Song’s predictions had again turned out to be rrect.

　　Before I as anemic, the rrelation beteen hard ork and suess as sothing that only appeared in the cliché suess stories of the talented fe. No, I am running more mileage than I ever have before. And my violin teacher still plains.

　　But I smile. I kno it’s going sohere.

　　文书点评

　　故事的开篇十分“抓人眼球”，简洁且出乎意料，能够充分勾起我们的阅读兴趣。

　　学生通过小提琴老师的一句话，引出了他对“跑步”的热爱，并讲述了他克服“健康障碍”最终在跑步中脱颖而出的故事。

　　坚韧和毅力是贯穿这篇文章的主题，他在整篇文章中进行了大量的“自我反思”，最重要的是他讲述了自己改变的过程，以及他在这段经历中的收获，这为我们提供了进一步了解学生的动力和窗口。

　　05

　　I rap my scarf more firmly around my neck, feeling the chill of the brisk January air as I trudge my ay to practice. The bus s isn’t actually that far from the pool, but ith a heavy backpack and the fancy shoes that my host sister insisted I ear, the three-minute trek seems to last forever. Turning the rner three blocks don, I finally make it to the parking lot and see one of my friends.

　　“Salut, Thomas.”

　　He knos that it’s ithout even looking. “Salut, Danielle.” He finishes fiddling ith his bicycle lock and stands to greet . I lean in for my customary kiss, and he obliges, bisous-ing once on each cheek, before e alk toard Piscine Bréquigny together.

　　Easy nversation flos beteen us as our ell-trained feet follo the paths to our respective changing rooms. I punch in the de on the girls’ side and open the door. Familiar figures stand in various states of undress, and bisous go all around hile e change and speculate on the various tortures Marc ill put us through today. Then e head don to the pool deck, ready to et our fates.

　　I get to our ach first, and ntally sitch back into English. “Hey, Marc, hat’s up?”

　　He shrugs. “Fine.”

　　I laugh and give him a high five, then move on to bisous and ?a va? the rest of the boys. When I get to Islem, ho is Algerian, the to of us proceed to execute our exceedingly plex non-French secret handshake, recently perfected at Tours during last eek’s three-day et. (We foreigners have to stick together, after all.) We end ith a perfect fist bump, and I smirk.

　　Islem inks back at . “Et ouais.” That’s ho e roll.

　　Marc eventually yells at us to get to ork, and e all start to put on our caps and goggles. I pull out my team cap from ho, reflecting on ho much I’ve changed since I left. Four months ago, I as mute, standing akardly to the side, hoping that English instructions for the ne and frightening social interaction ould suddenly appear out of thin air. No, flaless French rolls off my lips as I greet my friends, laughing freely at inside jokes, not thinking tice about kissing simsuit-clad simrs on the cheek. I’m not just on the team anymore—I’m part of it, and every single bisous reminds of that fact.

　　Soone pushes into the pool and my shriek is salloed by the ater. I surface and sear my revenge, glaring all the hile at Pierre, the obvious culprit, ho is grinning unabashedly. Then he yelps and falls as he himself is pushed in as ell. The hole team eventually follos us into the ater to start the day’s arm up, and a small smile, fond and ntent, flits across my face before I join them.

　　文书点评

　　怎样才能写出一篇好文书？

　　不要过度思考。并不是每个人都要在16岁之前治愈一种疾病，或是在专业杂志上发表一篇研究论文。我们只是想通过文书了解你的为人，而简单的日常故事则能最有效地做到这一点。

　　不可否认，我不太喜欢运动员写关于运动的文章，这非常老套，所以当我读到这篇文章开头时，我有点焦虑，但很快就克服了。

　　这篇文章的开场恰到好处，吸引着我想要更多地了解她在国外的经历。

　　她的文字给人一种很有风度的幽默感，她在讲述自己这段长达4个月的海外训练经历时，充分展现了自己的毅力、适应能力和凝聚力。很显然，她的精神、个性和友爱意识均通过这次海外经历有了很大的成长。

　　当我读到这样一篇有趣的、叙述性强的文章时，就像被吸引进一部迷你电影。我想继续读下去，看看事情会如何发展。到，我觉得我充分了解了这个学生，也知道了她独特的个人特质是如何让她成为任何大学招生官青睐的人选。

　　06

　　I sat under the table, burying my head tightly in my folded arms, hile the other children sat on the carpet, listening to the teacher’s story. The language barrier as like a tsunami, gurgling ith strange and indistinguishable vocalizations. Elentary school asn’t as fun as I expected at all.

　　“Hello?”

　　Hearing a hisper, I raised my head up, only to notice a boy’s face rely inches aay. I bolted up in surprise, my head lliding gracefully ith the underside of the table. Yelping in pain, I noticed that the entire class as staring at .

　　That as the story of ho I t my first friend in Canada.

　　That boy, Jack, ca to visit during my lonely recesses. It as rather akard at first—I uld only stare at him as he rambled on in English. But it as forting to have so pany.

　　From there, our friendship blossod. Our initial nversations must have been hilarious to the hapless bystander. Jack ould speak in fluent English hile I spurted sentence after sentence of Mandarin. It as like atching tennis—rallies of English and Mandarin back and forth. But I learned quickly, and in no ti I as fluent.

　　Jack also shoed the ropes of Western culture. Heaven knos ho embarrassing my birthday party ould’ve been if he hadn’t told about those so-called “loot-bags” beforehand.

　　Today, I volunteer at a munity service agency for ne immigrants here I ork ith children. I do it because I understand the nfusion and frustration of dealing ith a strange and sotis hostile environnt; I rember ho it feels to be tangled up in an amalgam of unfamiliar ords and sounds. And so I teach them; I give seminars on reading, riting, and speaking skills as ell as Western culture, history, and sotis, a bit of social studies.

　　But I strive to do more than just that. I try to be a friend—because I rember ho Jack helped . I anize field trips to the science center, the museum, and the symphony: double-hammy trips here children can have fun hile improving their literacy skills.

　　Through these experiences, I try to understand each of them as unique individuals—their likes, dislikes, pet peeves, background.

　　Everyone needs a guiding light through the loneso process of adaptation, a friendly bump to lift them from the dark shroud of isolation. That’s hat Jack did for —ith a rather painful bump to the head—and it’s also hat I do for these immigrant children.

　　My hope is that, one day, these children ill also feel pelled to do the sa, helping others adapt to an unfamiliar environnt. With this, e can truly create a caring and hesive ork of support for the children of our society.

　　文书点评

　　学生在这篇文章中讲述了他与社区服务活动的个人联系，并解释了为什么选择这些活动来申请大学。

　　他以在加拿大遇到的第一个朋友的故事为开端，围绕这次邂逅与他希望完成的社会目标进行深入探讨，文字谦逊、幽默且饱含责任感。

　　这篇文章的优点在于他生动地讲述了与朋友相遇的故事，并用这个故事解释了他对志愿服务的热情。

　　在文章的结尾，他将社区服务经历与更大的个人目标相结合，向招生官明确展现了他的想法、梦想和成就。

　　07

　　Why a Republican Read The Communist Manifesto

　　I am a nservative. Point-blank. I’m not talking “hardre, no gay marriage, abortion equates to eternity in Hell, Catholicism is the only religion orthy of my acknoledgnt” nservative, but I believe in limited governnt intervention in private business. I may seem like an unlikely candidate for such beliefs; I live in Springfield, Massachusetts, an urban environnt here the majority of the population utilizes so sort of governnt assistance to supplent the sts of living. Well, maybe not the absolute majority, but I certainly see a lot of it. Though raised as a Catholic, I believe in nothing more than simple spirituality, and do not abide by all the stipulations of the strict Catholic munity (although I do ntinue to attend church because I find the environnt eling and the people overhelmingly happy and uplifting). I attend the Drama Studio, a small, nservatory style acting munity here I am nsidered the token Republican (artsy and nservative—is this hat Harold Camping ant by the Rapture?) Not surprisingly, my lleagues have made many attempts at nversion (“Watch MSNBC, Danielle; I promise you’ll love it!”) But I stick to my guns— no pun intended. Hoever, I have found that sharing the majority of my ti ith those of nflicting opinions has enlightened in the ays of respect and promise.

　　Enter Jab Mueller. Literally the son of a preacher man (his father is the minister at Trinity United Methodist Church), his political vies on Facebook are listed as “Member of the Communist Party of Arica.” Oh, boy … He entered my Advanced Scene Work class in its send sester, and as is the Drama Studio custom, I eled him ith open arms and nced hat I soon disvered to be the long and interesting process of getting to kno him. Through this, I disvered a fe important things; like , he loved politics. Like , he as ell inford. And, like , he as more than illing to argue his opinion.

　　Through our Odd Couple dynamic, e found an endless number of nversation ics. Every day as a ne, “Did you see hat the Tea Party’s neest legislation entails?” untered by a, “Ho about that Stt Bron, eh?” I as the Michele Bachmann to his Al Gore. But the remarkable thing about our debates as not their intensity or their depth, but ho much I as learning by listening to him talk.

　　A strange thing as happening to . For the girl ho had alays been staunchly opinionated and stubborn, ho had never been one for agreeing ith the opposition, ho took pride in her ability to stand her ground even hen she represented the minority vie, promise suddenly had a ne aning. Its nnotation as no longer negative. And, in turn my ability to not only understand but also respect a vie ntradictory to my on as groing in strength. In order to foster this nefound mind-set, I presented myself ith the ultimate challenge. In a mont of excited passion, I logged on to Amazon. and, for $4.95, ordered a py of The Communist Manifesto. The little book, ith its floppy laminated ver depicting a hamr and a sickle on a glossy black background and plain hite block letters spelling out its title ith innspicuous innocence, took its place at the head of my bed, here it resided for the next month. Bit by bit, it began to fill ith marks of pensive notation, speckles of yello appearing in odd places here the highlighter had bled through, its fragile pages curving ith the insistent pen marks that filled their margins.

　　As I devoured the ords of Marx and Engels, I realized sothing remarkable. I’m not going to tell you I agreed ith them; in a lot of instances, I didn’t. But I did understand hat they ere saying, and I as able to respect them both as visionaries and intellectuals. Where the old voice in my head ould have said, “Wo, hat idiots,” my ne voice as open to more than just the fundantal ideas, but the intelligence it must have taken to form them and the thought process behind them.

　　When I register to vote, I ill not be registering as a Democrat. You on’t see at any PETA etings, and you certainly on’t hear speaking fondly about President Obama’s plans for health care. But I can proudly say that The Communist Manifesto taught this Republican hat it ans to promise, and to respect.

　　文书点评

　　这篇文章的表述有趣且个性十足，但毋庸置疑——学生通过直接谈论政治和宗教绕过了文书写作的一般准则。

　　如果有必要在文书中谈论争议话题，比如政治，那么要尽量避免提及“个人信仰和强烈的观点”，而这位学生基本是这样做的（尽管她提到了The Communist Manifesto）。

　　原因很简单，“个人信仰和观点”是非常抽象的，相比之下，大学想要了解的是真实的你，所以文书最好是以难忘、近距离、脚踏实地的方式来表达你自己。

　　在这篇文章中，学生将自己定位为一个对新事物持开放态度的人，这也是向招生官展示自我的绝佳态势。

　　大学最青睐那些“兼具学识的开拓者和探险家”，而你要做的，就是在文书中证明这一点。

　　08

　　Soft Wooden Heart

　　The backbone of my life is my riting desk. I like to describe its surface as an anized ss (despite my parents’ overdramatized description of a bomb site), a state of positive entropy and minimum energy. Math exercises overlap an anizer, set next to almost-empty tubes of paint and overdue library books. A nstantly filled bottle of ater sits behind a glasses’ case full of guitar picks, and carved into a mountain of paper, right in the middle, is a space reserved for my lap—on days hen I am slouching, The Complete Works of William Shakespeare needs to be slid under it. An eclectic desk shos an eclectic personality; mine has had the honor of being the training grounds prior to the Great (final) Battle (exam) of Chemistry, the peaceful ado of relaxed reading afternoons, and all in all the pristine-turned-lorful canvas of an inquisitive mind.

　　I rember buying it ith my mother five years ago, hen my bruised knees protested against the tiny hite-paint-gone-yello one I had used since childhood. My ne desk as made of native Rimu heartood—solid, resilient, dependable—a perfect role model for to gro into. Over the years, its material beca representative of my Ne Zealand identity, its surface sloly ated in quirky personality, and its partnts filled ith treasured mories; the heartood desk echoed my heart.

　　At first, it did not fit ith the der of the rest of my room, hich even no appears boxy and stark next to my grandiosely elegant riting desk, but its quiet strength is unafraid of individuality, just as I have learned to bee. It has atched as I gre stronger branches, a straighter trunk, firr roots; hereas I had once been but a shy young seedling, I sprouted leaves and ith them the ability and yearning to provide shade for others. I have certainly physically gron into it, but although I ould like to think that I have bee pletely independent, I remain human; in inevitable tis of need, it is still my steadfast, sturdy desk that offers its support.

　　I sit here and, ell, I rite: joyfully, desolately, irately, istfully—at tis paralyzed by excitent, at others crippled by fear. I scral notes in my anizer (hich is, naturally, not in the least anized), ords overflo my blog, overemotional oranges and blues plague my illustrations; shallo scratch marks indent the ood from here I have pressed too passionately into paper. It may be solid, but it is elastic enough to be shaped, resilient enough to adapt: This is my soft ooden heart.

　　It can take it. My desk remains nstant despite scars of experience—unassuming, stoic, ever atchful. Even hen I dismbered dying cell phones, their frail key tones pleading for rcy, the desk stood there, nonchalant. Regardless of hat fervor goes on from ti to ti, it knos there ill eventually be a nstant calm; my lively nest of rebuilt mobiles still calls this place ho. Sotis, I rest my uncertain head on its reassuring solid surface and the ood presses back into my heartbeat, municating in Morse: “Don’t orry. So things ill never change.”

　　And, like a mother, it alays turns out to be right. Beneath my seemingly chaotic at of papers and objects; beneath the superfluous, temporary things that define my present life, my desk and my heart remain still—solid, stable, and evergreen, ready to be ritten onto and scratched into by experience.

　　文书点评

　　一篇有意义的文书不一定是关于重大成就或坎坷的个人经历。通常，最具灵感的写作可以从简单而意想不到的事物演变而来，比如一张写字台。

　　这篇文书通过简单、富有创造力的语言，带领读者深入了学生的内心世界，在那里我们发现了一个聪明、独特、有自我意识的年轻女性。

　　通过这张“特别的书桌”，我们看到了她对艺术的兴趣、她的学术能力及她战胜拖延的毅力。

　　在这里，我希望告诉大家申请文书是展示个人的宝贵机会，但没必要把生活的方方面面均写入其中，请记住“Less is more”。

　　09

　　I look over at the digital clock at the front of the bus just as the ti changes to 8:30. The engine begins to rumble, the seat begins to shake, and the bus sloly pulls onto Route 6 and heads toard JPA—the Jay Pritzker Academy—near Siem Reap, Cambodia. The bus is alive ith chatter. Peace Corps volunteers trade stories about their experiences in their assigned villages; international schoolteachers discuss their plans for the day’s lessons. I overhear one of the Peace Corps volunteers, Deidre, say, “I have to say, the Peace Corps offers incredible health care. They devaced to Bangkok hen I got dengue fever.”

　　Today, I find myself unable to join the nversation. I stare blankly at the blue cloth seat in front of , trying to gently ax my knotted stomach out of my throat. All I can think about is the empty seat beside and the unfortable feeling of entering uncertain territory alone.

　　My friend and -teacher, Shahriyar, is in the Angkor Hospital revering from a serious bout of amoebic dysentery. I visited him yesterday. He as lying in bed ith his sumr reading in his right hand and an IV in his left. Looking pale and exhausted, he eakly lifted his head and greeted . “I don’t kno if you kno this yet,” he said, “but I’m flying ho tomorro. Are youing ith ?” Though the nes didn’t surprise , the question caught off guard. As I left the hospital room, I uldn’t help but think ho easily this uld have been in his situation.

　　The bus drives over a speed bump faster than it should have, and I’m jolted back to the present. I try to take my mind off Shahriyar and look out the indo at the orld around . Everything is so much different than it is in Deerfield, yet it all soho feels very natural to . To my left I see an elderly oman earing a mask seeping dust off the street; I smile at her, but she doesn’t notice. As the bus gets closer and closer to JPA, the fact that I ill have to teach today’s lessons by myself begins to set in. I onder if I’m physically capable of teaching three hours of class by myself in the niydegree heat and 90 percent humidity.

　　In the past,Shahriyar and I had alays taken turns leading the class, giving each other a fe monts to rest and rehydrate hile the other taught. A part of is afraid to do it. I’ve never had to lead the class ithout the fort and support of having Shahriyar by my side. As I think about the challenges I ill face, I realize ho easy it ould be to turn back. I only have to call Sokun—a local tuk-tuk driver and he’d take to the airport. Knoing my -teacher has bee seriously ill, nobody ould think less of if I ent ho today.

　　As I sit in my seat, planning my trip ho, the bus slos nearly to a s and then turns onto a narro red dirt road. I’ve suddenly plunged into a ne orld. The ss of orn-don ncrete buildings and mopeds gives ay to miles of flooded rice paddies stretching as far as I can see. Every fe hundred yards I see boys and young n orking barefoot in the fields. The bamboo huts that dot the landscape make think back to my visit to the house of one of my students, Dari. I rember looking into his room and seeing a ooden table on his dirt floor. Close by, a bamboo shelf as filled ith books. The globe he had on for being on the Honor Roll as proudly displayed on the bookshelf among his prized possessions. Smiling ear to ear, he told us that JPA as the best thing in his life. I realize that it really is too late to go ho. I’ve already fallen in love ith my students.

　　As the bus pulls into JPA’s driveay, the rest of the teachers begin gathering their materials. I remain seated, deep in thought. “Are you ing?” I hear a familiar voice ask . I look up and see Deidre looking at .

　　“Of urse I am.”

　　文书点评

　　在写有关社区服务的文书时，学生很容易陷入自我膨胀的陷阱——过多强调个人牺牲和善举，这样的表述并不能体现出你对社区服务的真正兴趣。

　　这篇文章则规避这个陷阱，巧妙地表达了谦逊、热爱及他在工作中对他人的贡献。

　　这位学生的社区服务经历非常独特，他这篇文书的优势在于，我们能透过这段志愿经历，看到学生性格中更深层次的特质，文章的表述也充分体现出了他的真诚，而这一点往往是很多学生忽略的。

　　从素材选择、文章结构，再到语言表达，优秀文书中的方方面面都值得我们学习和参考，也能够为我们的文书提供灵感来源。那么——

　　哈佛大学到底青睐怎样的文书？

　　以上文书中的故事或是以小见大 、突出思考，或是通过个人兴趣展现独特之处，或是借助“高光时刻”展示抱负和志趣……但不外乎自我认知、兴趣爱好、以及未来期许等角度。

　　，官方点评这9篇文书时，最常出现的是“一个有吸引力的开头”，以及具有真情实感的细节描述。

　　除了写作手法和技巧，这些优秀文书向我们展现最多的是学生的性格特质或思维角度。

　　无论是打雪仗的故事、还是一段海外的生活经历，哈佛大学选出的优秀文书均表达了学生在成长中的深刻思考。

　　，这些优秀文书也并非是“完美”的，校方也在点评中给出了中肯的改进意见，比如

　　在申请文书中谈论有争议的话题，如政治话题时，该如何重点突出地行文，而不仅仅是阐述自己的信仰或观点。

　　由此可见，哈佛更愿意看到学生在自我经历中的自省、反思与成长。

　　即使你没有非常“独特”的故事，但如果你能从“简单的小事”表现出你对自己人生，乃至对世界的思考，都是哈佛想要看到的。

　　以上，就是小编为大家分享的全部内容。希望这些优秀的文书范文，能为大家的文书写作和构思有所帮助！