Why Emory?

So, perhaps you're reading this blog because you want to know WHY you should attend (or just apply to) Emory. Sooo, I present to you my essay on the subject. Word-for-word, this is what I sent to the Emory admissions office when I applied waaay back in November 2005.

Afterward, I'll tell you if my thoughts on the school turned out to be true.

WARNING: It's quite an abnormal essay. What can I say? - I was a creative writer even before I chose the major.

Ready for it? Get set! Read!:

By now, you probably have noted the absence of a valuable metal spoon from Cox Hall and uncovered evidence that helped you trace its disappearance to one particular weekend this past June. While the "borrowing" of an eating utensil was not exactly the sort of soul-awakening, light-bulb shinning impact I had envisioned myself making upon Emory University, my dream school, I am well aware that it was, nonetheless, quite significant. Please allow me to shed light on what, in the annals of Emory history has become known as "Spoonagate." Simply said, the crafty culprit who committed the dastardly deed is none other than Mitch Tandet, my dad.

To recap the facts leading up to the odious offense, it took place on the first day of my family's visit to Emory. The instant we walked onto the campus, I realized my actual experience there would differ drastically from any I had anticipated. I had imagined a world of chaos: cars and bicycles vying for parking spaces, half-asleep students dashing towards open classroom doors, and weary admission counselors handling the overwhelming influx of visitors whom we would be among. Instead, I found myself surrounded by students and faculty whose mood was upbeat and exciting; everyone was willing to welcome me, if only for a few short hours, into their Emory community. I identified with their warmth and their refreshing personalities, that were laid-back and enthusiastic, and so like my own. As we walked towards our awaiting guides, my parents' playful winks and knowing smiles indicated that we were all on the same wavelength. It is easy to see that thoughts of the ill-famed incident had yet to enter my dad's head.

Two female guides embarked with us on a private tour -- one a bubbly Texan and the other, an intellectual New Yorker. Their personalities may have been contrasting, but their styles were strikingly similar. When we spoke, they answered all my questions about the numerous aspects of Emory in which I was interested. They were trying to impress me, and boy, did they! I, Jodi of a million questions, could not think of one of my queries that remained unanswered. I realized that I had unwittingly followed the advice of Simon and Garfunkel and strolled the grounds until I felt at home. I was hooked; in fact, the very buildings seemed to be calling, "Come on in, Jodi!"

It was when I entered Cox Hall with my parents and our tour guides that Spoonagate occurred. My dad went off to purchase a mid-afternoon snack and returned with a metal spoon in his yogurt; plastic spoons were unavailable. This became a bit of a dilemma as I wanted to immediately explore further Emory buildings and he wanted to finish his fruity treat. It was then that my innocent, strawberry-yogurt loving dad decided to take the yogurt, along with the now infamous utensil, with him, never realizing the ramifications his harmless act would engender.

I believe that the disrepute that surrounds the spoon and its abductor has gone on long enough. To that end, I am enclosing information about the now notorious Spoonagate that will lead an astute leader to its whereabouts. That I am doing so is a testimony to my desire to attend Emory with a clean plate, fork, knife and spoon. The spoon, in fact, never left the Emory campus; it is alive and well and living at one of the foremost bagel spots that serve students of Emory, and at which I hope to spend many happy hours studying and socializing. I hope this reinstates my dad to acceptable status and me to the top of the list of Emory hopefuls. Should you choose to do the latter, I assure you that you efforts will not have been made in vain, as I am confident that I will be an exemplary student.

-----------------------
Let me provide a critical analyst of my own work (I'm tired of analyzing Shakespeare):
- People don't need to compete for parking spaces; there's plenty. Semester passes are just expensive. And almost no one rides a bike.
- I...I am now often a "half-alseep" student when going to class.
- The admission counselors like organizing the tours. (Hi Jamie! *waves*...one of them reads this. I'm not sucking up though. They already admitted me. The counselors are actually kind of hilarious.)
- I DO like to think that us tour guides are welcoming, enthusiastic annnd chill.
- Most of the buildings are quite purdy...with their Italian Renaissance architecture. But some are surrounded by construction, which I don't love.
- Plastic spoons are always available now! Yipee! I think Cox Hall was being renovated when I visited, so they were out.
- I would write this essay MUCH better now, courtesy of my writing experience. Just sayin'.

The moral of the story? Take risks with your essays. Just be honest and make the "why (insert school name here)" essay specific, so the counselors KNOW that you wrote it just for that school. It certainly does not have to be as odd as mine though.

And to those of you who already applied and are waiting to here back on April 1st, GOOD LUCK! Although I applied Early Decision, I know the stress of waiting for a decision well. Back in my day (wow...I sound like a grandpa) I had to wait for Emory to send me a snail mail letter. None of this fancy schmancy online notification stuff. Talk about stress. I sat for several days in my living room - since it had the best view of the mail box - and would jump anytime I thought I heard a car drive by. When I finally got the letter and felt that it held a CD (which I'm not sure if they still give out), I tore it up and started laughing hysterically. I was just so happy and in disbelief. Many people cry; I couldn't stop giggling.

Most importantly, good luck in making YOUR decision. As always, I'm just a comment away if you have questions or concerns.