UChicago Application Essays

Here are the three essays I submitted for my University of Chicago application for the Fall 2003 term.
(in case you're wondering, yes, I was accepted)

1. How does the University of Chicago, as you know it now, satisfy your desire for a particular kind of learning, community, and future? Your response should address with some particularity your own wishes and how they relate to Chicago.

Based on my initial research on the University of Chicago, I received the impression that the university was a place where students went to learn for the love of learning, and took classes because they were interested in the subject, not merely because they were required to do so. It also seemed like the kind of university that would promote individual learning, rather than limiting students to established, specialized curricula. In other words, it seemed like the kind of university where my quest for intellectual and academic stimulation and challenge would be fulfilled, where I would not be limited to my main area of study but encouraged to venture into other fields. These initial impressions were confirmed during my overnight visit and interview in January. For the first time in a very long time, I found myself in an environment where every person I spoke to was not only intelligent but interested, and where my "nerdiness" or "geekiness" was seen as a positive trait that even acted as a social catalyst (instead of being a social inhibitor). In fact, during my brief visit, no less than four students told me that I would fit in at the university. Despite having grown up in three countries and having attended three colleges and universities, nobody had ever told me that I would "fit in" anywhere else, nor have I ever felt comfortable being myself as I did at the university.

The unique atmosphere also makes the computer sciences program, my intended concentration, at the university more attractive than those offered by most schools. Unlike programs offered in other schools, the University of Chicago program seems to offer more diversity, allowing for more interdisciplinary studies. It is my belief that specialization, especially at the undergraduate level, could have the adverse effect of limiting students' perspectives. Despite the conventional notion of computer sciences as being a highly specialized field, I have found important links with other fields that are often overlooked or simply ignored. For example, while learning Russian, I have started to see the merits of using a well-structured language like Russian in natural language analysis, a topic area important in the study of artificial intelligence. While working in the University Writing Center, I have found many similarities between composition instruction and teaching computer programming. I believe the University of Chicago would offer me a unique environment in which I would not only be allowed, but encouraged to investigate and develop similar such interdisciplinary observations and further my own studies. I also believe the theoretical nature of the computer science courses offered at the university would challenge me, despite my 10 years of practical programming experience, and would further augment my technical abilities.


2. Tell us about a few of your favorite books, poems, authors, films, plays, music, paintings, artists, magazines, or newspapers. Feel free to touch on one, some, or all of the categories listed or add a category of your own.

As a computer scientist, one of the categories I feel most strongly towards is software licenses, namely, the Open Source software licensing model. Unlike proprietary software licenses, which cover most commercial software products, Open Source software licenses place importance in quality and freedom over financial gains. Software products licensed using Open Source licenses specifically give users the right to access and modify the source code, or the fundamental building blocks and blue prints of the software. This, in turn, gives users the freedom to change the software as they see fit, or even find and fix security holes. Furthermore, Open Source licenses grant users the right to distribute such improvements to the public as well as the original vendor. Vendors are given the incentive to write better software since, no part of their program can be hidden from the public and all aspects are subject to constant peer review. This level of transparency also makes it difficult for software vendors to manipulate or "lock in" users through unfair practices, essentially allowing for more even playing fields in the industry, further promoting innovation.

Over the last year, I have had the opportunity to observe first hand the benefits (and faults) of the Open Source model through one of my own projects. In April 2002, I publicly released one of my software projects, IlohaMail (http://ilohamail.org), free of charge under an Open Source license after having worked on it on my own for nearly two years. Since then, it has been installed on hundreds of servers around the world, and has come to be used by tens of thousands of people. More importantly, volunteers have translated the software into 20 languages, contributed numerous improvements, pointed out security concerns, and have sent me a wide range of suggestions and requests that have helped me further improve the software. Through such collaborative effort, my software has become much more than it possibly could have been, had I continued to work on it alone, or if I had distributed it under a closed license. Through my experiences in the Open Source community, I have also come to realize that the Open Source model is more of a way of thinking than just a licensing or development model. Even though Open Source is not always the ultimate solution, I believe the underlying emphasis on openness, collaboration, and equality may have wider applicability in other areas, such as business and politics, in solving complex issues in often unconventional and unforeseen ways as it has in the software industry.


Essay Option 2
How do you feel about Wednesday?

Dear Wednesday,

Looking back, I must admit that of all the days of the week, you are the one I have always been most sympathetic towards. Unfortunately, it wasn't until recently that I stumbled upon the opportunity to really investigate the extent of my sympathies, and that is my excuse for writing this letter at such late date; after having experienced 1201 Wednesdays.

As I'm sure you are aware, the very name "Wednesday" so aptly reflects upon your peculiarities and qualities. To start off, in English, it is the only day of the week that isn't pronounced the way it is spelled. But that is no exception. In Russian, the word for Wednesday (pronounced roughly like "celeda") is unlike any of the other weekdays in that it does not sound even remotely similar to an ordinal. On the other hand, Russian words for Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday are somewhat similar to the words for "first", "second", "fourth" and "fifth" respectively.
The Germans, being the precise and efficient folk that they are, simply named Wednesday: "Mittwoch" or "mid-week". Yet, the math does not add up. If you split Monday through Friday in half, Wednesday would be sliced in half right around noon. Calling Wednesday "mid-week" is like cutting a cake in half and somehow getting three pieces: the left piece, right piece, and the middle piece.
So as you can see, it appears humans share a universal difficulty naming you in any conventional manner. Although many see "unconventional" as being a negative trait, I happen to have a soft spot for anything unconventional and odd. Besides, I also have a name that characterizes me well. My name, "Ryo", apart from being a relatively common Japanese name, stands for Roll Your Own, and it is no surprise that I have a love of creating and authoring.

One of the main reasons that I am sympathetic towards you, Wednesday, is that I feel you are under-appreciated and marginalized. To illustrate this, let me describe to you a world in which you, Wednesday, do not exist. After all, it is sadly our nature to not fully appreciate things we take for granted until we lose them.
So, welcome to The World of No Wednesday. Since it is undoubtedly everybody's favorite, we'll start with the weekend. Everybody loves the weekend. People get to sleep in, eat a proper breakfast, and spend two whole days doing what they want and forget about the things they told themselves they were going to do. The weekend represents innocence, relaxation, laziness, and procrastination.
Then comes Monday. Everybody hates Monday. The change is sudden. People go to bed on Sunday thinking that all is good, and that the stuff they didn't do will never catch up. But then, something happens while they're asleep, and somewhere in the Monday Morning Haze, they realize that, no, it isn't okay. Even worse, they know they still have a whole week before another weekend. And thus the week begins. Monday is regret, stress, and hopelessness.
By Tuesday, people have somehow managed to catch up with the weekend's laziness, and they tell themselves, "phew, at least it's not Monday." They get over the fact that it's not the weekend anymore, and they finally get going. Tuesday represents awakening and recovery.
In the World of No Wednesday, people plunge straight into Thursday. By Thursday, they know they're past the halfway point. As a matter of fact, they have one thing in mind: tomorrow's Friday. Thursday's like getting ready for bed; you just need to get under those covers and you're off to dreamland. And Friday -well, everybody knows Friday's practically the weekend.
So in the World of No Wednesdays, people go straight from "Thank god it's not Monday" to "Thank god it's Friday tomorrow". People go straight from barely gaining productivity to losing it. There's no equilibrium, no anticipation of the coming weekend, no lingering appreciation of the weekend that was. There's no hope.
That's what you offer us. On Wednesday, we are most productive since we're over the fact that it's not the weekend anymore, but we also know that it's not quite the next weekend either. Yet, the looming notion of a coming weekend gives us hope. Wednesday is the observation deck on top of a tall building, where we can both see where we came from, and look at where we're going. Wednesday gives us clarity.
You see, you're the middle child that is neither loved nor loathed. You're the under-appreciated and unseen eccentric whose pivotal role in the week goes unnoticed. You're the silent hero that helps humanity survive the week, and makes the otherwise rough transition from the weekend-that-was to the weekend-that-is-to-be as smooth as possible.

But Wednesday, I, for one, sympathize with you. I've done theatre tech where people only notice when something goes wrong. I've done tech support, where people call when something doesn't work, but never when things do work. I'm a programmer and I write software for people who don't even know what programming is other than that it usually doesn't work. I know what it's like to be unappreciated. But I also know the silent pride you feel; knowing that you can have talent without glory, power without recognition, and do good without being appreciated.
I also know what it's like to be called the mid-week. Being an American-by-birth raised by Japanese parents in Germany, I often found myself split between two (or more) cultures. Like you, Wednesday, I knew I didn't belong to one half or the other, and I also knew that no matter how hard I tried, I'd always be the oddball. But I've come to realize that being an oddball isn't so bad. In fact, I'm proud to be different. The same way the world needs Wednesday, the world also needs the occasional oddball.

Sincerely,
Ryo Chijiiwa


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