本科階段想要獲得美國(guó)綜合第一的哈佛大學(xué)的錄取，要在很多方面類拔萃：頂尖的標(biāo)準(zhǔn)考試成績(jī)，近乎完美的在校成績(jī)，彰顯綜合實(shí)力的背景及課外活動(dòng)已經(jīng)數(shù)不勝數(shù)的獎(jiǎng)項(xiàng)。除此之外，文書在哈佛大學(xué)本科申請(qǐng)中是最能彰顯除了成績(jī)之外軟實(shí)力。

　　如何寫好自己的美國(guó)本科申請(qǐng)文書成了很多學(xué)生最糾結(jié)最苦惱的事情，不妨看看別人的優(yōu)秀文書吧！隨著2023級(jí)新生的入學(xué)，哈佛大學(xué)的校報(bào)The Harvard Crimson（《哈佛深紅報(bào)》）評(píng)選出了10篇新生的優(yōu)秀文書作品，并附上了相應(yīng)的評(píng)析。

　　這些被哈佛大學(xué)本科招生辦所青睞的文書究竟有哪些閃光點(diǎn)？美國(guó)本科申請(qǐng)文書究竟應(yīng)該怎么去寫？相信你看完Emily的文書和《哈佛深紅報(bào)》的點(diǎn)評(píng)之后，會(huì)有所啟發(fā)！

　　學(xué)生名：Emily

　　族裔：賓夕法尼亞州華裔女生

　　教育背景：私立高中，畢業(yè)班有120人

　　GPA: 3.91 / 4.0

　　SAT:閱讀800，數(shù)學(xué)780，寫作800

　　SAT II：數(shù)學(xué) level 2、生物M、化學(xué)、西班牙語(yǔ)

　　課外活動(dòng)（Activity）:校隊(duì)網(wǎng)球隊(duì)長(zhǎng)、校隊(duì)游泳隊(duì)長(zhǎng)、模擬審判隊(duì)長(zhǎng)、學(xué)生會(huì)干事、杜邦醫(yī)院志愿者

　　獎(jiǎng)項(xiàng)（Honour）:鉆石挑戰(zhàn)賽特等獎(jiǎng)獲得者、林肯獎(jiǎng)學(xué)金論文、全國(guó)優(yōu)秀學(xué)生獎(jiǎng)學(xué)金決賽選手、全國(guó)榮譽(yù)協(xié)會(huì)獎(jiǎng)學(xué)金決賽選手、賓夕法尼亞州州長(zhǎng)科學(xué)獎(jiǎng)學(xué)金學(xué)校

　　已選專業(yè)（Major Decided）:人類發(fā)育與再生生物學(xué)

　　Personal Statement正文

　　Clear, hopeful melodies break the silence of the night.

　　Playing a crudely fashioned bamboo pipe, in the midst of sullen inmates—this is how I envision my grandfather. Never giving up hope, he played every evening to replace images of bloodshed with memories of loved ones at home. While my grandfather describes the horrors of his experience in a forced labour camp during the Cultural Revolution, I could only grasp at fragments to comprehend the story of his struggle.

　　I floundered in this gulf of cultural disparity.

　　As a child, visiting China each summer was a time of happiness, but it was also a time of frustration and alienation. Running up to my grandpa, I racked my brain to recall phrases supposedly ingrained from Saturday morning Chinese classes. Other than my initial greeting of “Ni hao, ye ye!” (“Hello, grandpa”), however, I struggled to form coherent sentences. Unsatisfied, I would scamper away to find his battered bamboo flute, and this time, with my eyes, silently beg him to play.

　　Although I struggled to communicate clearly through Chinese, in these moments, no words were necessary. I cherished this connection—a relationship built upon flowing melodies rather than broken phrases. After each impromptu concert, he carefully guided my fingers along the smooth, worn body of the flute, clapping after I successfully played my first tentative note. At the time, however, I was unaware of that through sharing music, we created language of emotion, a language that spanned the gulf of cultural differences. Through these lessons, I discovered an inherent inclination toward music and a drive to understand this universal language of expression.

　　Years later, staring at sheets of music in front of me at the end of a long rehearsal, I saw a jumbled mess of black dots. After playing through “An American Elegy” several times, unable to infuse emotion into its reverent melodies that celebrated the lives lost at Columbine, we—the All-State Band—were stopped yet again by our conductor Dr. Nicholson. He directed us to focus solely on the climax of the piece, the Columbine Alma Mater. He urged us to think of home, to think of hope, to think of what it meant to be American, and to fill the measures with these memories. When we played the song again, this time imbued with recollections of times when hope was necessary, “An American Elegy” became more than notes on a page; it evolved into a tapestry woven from the thread of our life stories.

　　The night of the concert, in the lyrical harmonies of the climax, I envisioned my grandfather, exhausted after a long day of labor, instilling hope in the hearts of others through his bamboo flute. He played his own “elegy” to celebrate the lives of those who had passed. At home that night, no words were necessary when I played the alma mater for my grandfather through the video call. As I saw him wiping tears, I smiled in relief as I realized through music I could finally express the previously inexpressible. Reminded of warm summer nights, the roles now reversed, I understood the lingual barrier as a blessing in disguise, allowing us to discover our own language.

　　Music became a bridge, spanning the gulf between my grandfather and me, and it taught me that communication could extend beyond spoken language. Through our relationship, I learned that to understand someone is not only to hear the words that they say, but also to empathize and feel as they do. With this realization, I search for methods of communication not only through spoken interaction, but also through shared experiences, whether they might involve the creation of music, the heat of competition, or simply laughter and joy, to cultivate stronger, more fulfilling relationships. Through this approach, I strive to become a more empathetic friend, student, and granddaughter as finding a common language has become, for me, a challenge—an invitation—to discover deeper connections.

　　哈佛深紅報(bào)評(píng)析：Emily選擇了平凡而不是宏偉的事情——和家人的音樂(lè)互動(dòng)。此前因?yàn)槲幕町惖?ldquo;鴻溝”造成的她和祖父之間的不理解，在她意識(shí)到除了語(yǔ)言外還有其他溝通方式的之后就瓦解了。

　　開(kāi)頭Emily用“Clear, hopeful melodies”這樣的描寫引導(dǎo)讀者，給讀者一副明亮的畫面，隨著就是她對(duì)自己祖父的憂郁的朦朧的想象，將兩者放在一起吸引了讀者。在招生官看了無(wú)數(shù)篇關(guān)于“我”的文章之后，出現(xiàn)一篇將寫作重點(diǎn)放在其他人身上的文章是讓招生官感到欣喜的變化。

　　作者展示了對(duì)寫作的非常獨(dú)特的主張。在某些地方，有詩(shī)意的文字可以強(qiáng)化文章的主題：語(yǔ)言不是連接人的唯一方式。不過(guò)，在有些情況下，繁瑣的語(yǔ)言使句子不流暢，有些尷尬。這篇文章的主旨是只用語(yǔ)言傳達(dá)思想是不完整的句子，用這么多語(yǔ)言來(lái)表述好像是對(duì)讀者的“背叛”。在雄辯和論證效率中需要找到平衡。

　　她在最后幾段中傳達(dá)的頓悟是一個(gè)真正成熟的故事，也許是為這篇文章中增加了最后的魅力?？吹揭粋€(gè)高中生從日常生活中寫出自己的理解，證明了他們有深刻的自省能力——這是大學(xué)渴望學(xué)生身上的一種特質(zhì)。