University Essay Prompts
Illustration by Kirtikka, Chai Zhen You and, Cheng Yue.
College applications have always been a time of excitement, nerves and most importantly, embracing the unknown. All of a sudden you are finding yourself having to make big decisions and answer many questions which determine how a college board perceives you, so it is no shock that one of the most exciting parts are your college essays. To have to summarise your entire personality and reason for being within an essay prompt is definitely a challenge at best. So to test how this can be perceived for different applicants, an essay prompt was given to five applicants, to observe how different their answers may vary. Below are the prompts of the applicants, take a look and be amazed how one question can be answered in an extremely different way.
Applicant #001: Tsang Ching Nam
Congratulations, you’re almost at the end of your application! Kindly fill in your responses, exceeding no more than 500 words, for the following essay prompt!
“If either of these 3 things could talk to you, how would your room, car or computer describe you?” (500 words or less)
If my room were to describe me, it’d assume I’m a child.
Upon entering, however, it’ll be a challenging pursuit to search for anything that will connect the dots.
The setting you’ll be catching a glimpse of is any plain old bedroom; cream walls, chequered ceilings, stark white lights.
Nothing vibrant, plastered nor painted on the walls, are adding to the otherwise mundane sight. It is, in fact, the hidden details strewn about that brings into question whether this bedroom has ever changed for the betterment of age.
The setting you’ll be catching a glimpse of is any plain old bedroom; cream walls, chequered ceilings, stark white lights.
Nothing vibrant, plastered nor painted on the walls, are adding to the otherwise mundane sight. It is, in fact, the hidden details strewn about that brings into question whether this bedroom has ever changed for the betterment of age.
A kid’s closet starts big, and as a teeanger, nothing has changed.
My garnering clothes remain as everyday neighbours with now ridiculously sized ones I’ve once worn, boasting perfectly faded graphics of my favourite cartoons. If you look over to the right, don’t be surprised to see a 123-themed comforter laying on my bed.
Perhaps a kid could practise reciting his multiplication tables in his sleep until he knows it by heart. A cluttered desk meant having a binder bulging to the sides with books ready for my next summer reading session.
As of right now, I hang out with Normal People and have plain Conversations with Friends whilst sitting atop Norwegian Wood stumps. Whereas, as a child, I indulged in meaningful conversations with The Giver where we spent the afternoon observing the picturesque designs woven in Charlotte’s Web made from an everlasting network of Holes. These stories are no stranger to taking me on an imaginative journey, in especially dire times when boredom meets child.
On closer inspection, these are only several of the many embodiments that make up my bedroom. Overall, nothing goes to waste in this space, much like a child’s appetite.
These artefacts mirror former experiences as a reminder of what I read, learned, or perhaps hoard, as an avid primary schooler, former maths geek, and current sentimental human being.
Applicant #002: Nurul Yasmin Syed Sulaiman
Congratulations, you’re almost at the end of your application! Kindly fill in your responses, exceeding no more than 500 words, for the following essay prompt!
“I hope you’re not one of those girls who believes owning the apple ecosystem is going to magically save your grades.”
“I’m sorry to say this but I have the personality traits of almost every female ever.”
But she wasn’t. I rolled my webcam when she gave me that answer, presuming I had to prepare for an array of mental breakdowns, rushed assignments and plenty of late nights. I was hoping my new owner would be someone who cared enough about their mental health to not depend on cups of caffeine as their last resort.
Nevertheless, that hope was blown out the window when she bought me specifically for the colour of my skin. My ego is already high enough, maybe she could pay more attention to my personality.
Even Though she did possess stereotypical characteristics of a girl in college, she was so much more. She took care of me like I was a child, so fragile I could crack at any given moment.
Which is how she took care of all her friends. Their assignments, drama, hunger and mental health all came before her.
This girl was born to be a mother. She put everyone before herself and I say that without praise. I am the one who has to shuffle through her applications to play upbeat and empowering songs, hide more deadlines from her planner and recommend videos to cheer her up.
She doesn’t understand the hassle it is to keep up with her continuously varying obsessions. A month ago she had more time to watch documentaries on why Nickelodeon shows failed rather than summarise notes for her Physics test, and now she is binging the eccentrics of the Sturniolo triplets.
“Do you really think correcting his unforgiving grammar mistakes is gonna make him like you back? You have a Biology test tomorrow.”
“I’m not doing it to make him like me, I’m doing it because he is my friend.”
“If you say so.”
I watch as she falls into her rabbit hole of procrastination every week. She promises me her Sundays are for unwinding and detoxing, but that seems to have taken over her whole week by the end of the month. She switches her bedsheet, wipes down her mirrors, scouts a new wallpaper for me, all while gleaming with the hope of a new dawn.
Believing that tomorrow will be the day she becomes that girl who dedicates her time accordingly and procrastinates never. It breaks my heart whenever I see her organising her perfumes and writing down a to-do list, she is just gonna disappoint herself again.
I know she shuts me down before she crashes into the bed but just for a moment, a fraction of a second before all my systems start to snooze, the look on her face fuels me with a flutter of aspiration. Maybe this girl will be a world renowned doctor one day, or maybe she won't.Either way, I hope the confidence she displays on the days she decides to wake up spreads over the week. She is not like any other girl, she cares.
Applicant #003: Amirah Shahari
Congratulations, you’re almost at the end of your application! Kindly fill in your responses, exceeding no more than 500 words, for the following essay prompt!
If my room were to speak, it would describe me as persistent. It would talk about the times I put my reserved self out there.
My room would speak of practising scripts and going over and perfecting final drafts of writing pieces.
It would speak of the times when what I wanted to do more than anything, was to return to my safe space rather than to let myself be heard and seen but it watches me as I pushed myself forward. All because growing requires trying.
If the walls of my room and the things that it houses were to speak, they would describe me as an organised mess. There is comfort in putting things in order but there is also comfort in the pile of clothing left unattended on a chair.
My room might describe me as somebody who is kind to others and only sometimes to herself. It encapsulates and watches me as I lay in bed at night, counting down the hours left of rest I have left before starting over again tomorrow.
Being a safe space to leave and return to, my room will describe me as content, despite the uncertainties and at times, the heavy feelings of sadness. It will speak of how I had made it into an expense that allows me to feel, no matter how strong or quiet it is.
If growing up was a feast, my room would be the centrepiece of it. It watches me as I tethered through my early teenage years, being 13, unsure and afraid of feeling lost.
Its walls stood silently around me when I sat in bed on Sunday mornings trying to navigate my words, in hopes of it turning out to be something.
My room watches me at 16 with a quarter left of a heart, a head full of wishes and dreams that are bigger than the furniture in my entire room combined. It watches me as I work and go about my unfinished hobbies, late-night reads and movies I soon grew to find comfort in. It watches me at 20 as I learn how to love and grow into my skin and appreciate the time and the presence of those in my surroundings.
As long as I keep walking through the doors of my room, it would describe every version of who I was, who I will grow to become and who I remained to be.
Applicant #004: Katrina Chelliah
Congratulations, you’re almost at the end of your application! Kindly fill in your responses, exceeding no more than 500 words, for the following essay prompt!
I have a human being who lives here, who I’ve been trying to understand but have yet to figure out.
My garnering clothes remain as everyday neighbours with now ridiculously sized ones I’ve once worn, boasting perfectly faded graphics of my favourite cartoons. If you look over to the right, don’t be surprised to see a 123-themed comforter laying on my bed.
Perhaps a kid could practise reciting his multiplication tables in his sleep until he knows it by heart. A cluttered desk meant having a binder bulging to the sides with books ready for my next summer reading session.
As of right now, I hang out with Normal People and have plain Conversations with Friends whilst sitting atop Norwegian Wood stumps. Whereas, as a child, I indulged in meaningful conversations with The Giver where we spent the afternoon observing the picturesque designs woven in Charlotte’s Web made from an everlasting network of Holes. These stories are no stranger to taking me on an imaginative journey, in especially dire times when boredom meets child.
On closer inspection, these are only several of the many embodiments that make up my bedroom. Overall, nothing goes to waste in this space, much like a child’s appetite.
These artefacts mirror former experiences as a reminder of what I read, learned, or perhaps hoard, as an avid primary schooler, former maths geek, and current sentimental human being.
Applicant #002: Nurul Yasmin Syed Sulaiman
Congratulations, you’re almost at the end of your application! Kindly fill in your responses, exceeding no more than 500 words, for the following essay prompt!
“I hope you’re not one of those girls who believes owning the apple ecosystem is going to magically save your grades.”
“I’m sorry to say this but I have the personality traits of almost every female ever.”
But she wasn’t. I rolled my webcam when she gave me that answer, presuming I had to prepare for an array of mental breakdowns, rushed assignments and plenty of late nights. I was hoping my new owner would be someone who cared enough about their mental health to not depend on cups of caffeine as their last resort.
Nevertheless, that hope was blown out the window when she bought me specifically for the colour of my skin. My ego is already high enough, maybe she could pay more attention to my personality.
Even Though she did possess stereotypical characteristics of a girl in college, she was so much more. She took care of me like I was a child, so fragile I could crack at any given moment.
Which is how she took care of all her friends. Their assignments, drama, hunger and mental health all came before her.
This girl was born to be a mother. She put everyone before herself and I say that without praise. I am the one who has to shuffle through her applications to play upbeat and empowering songs, hide more deadlines from her planner and recommend videos to cheer her up.
She doesn’t understand the hassle it is to keep up with her continuously varying obsessions. A month ago she had more time to watch documentaries on why Nickelodeon shows failed rather than summarise notes for her Physics test, and now she is binging the eccentrics of the Sturniolo triplets.
“Do you really think correcting his unforgiving grammar mistakes is gonna make him like you back? You have a Biology test tomorrow.”
“I’m not doing it to make him like me, I’m doing it because he is my friend.”
“If you say so.”
I watch as she falls into her rabbit hole of procrastination every week. She promises me her Sundays are for unwinding and detoxing, but that seems to have taken over her whole week by the end of the month. She switches her bedsheet, wipes down her mirrors, scouts a new wallpaper for me, all while gleaming with the hope of a new dawn.
Believing that tomorrow will be the day she becomes that girl who dedicates her time accordingly and procrastinates never. It breaks my heart whenever I see her organising her perfumes and writing down a to-do list, she is just gonna disappoint herself again.
I know she shuts me down before she crashes into the bed but just for a moment, a fraction of a second before all my systems start to snooze, the look on her face fuels me with a flutter of aspiration. Maybe this girl will be a world renowned doctor one day, or maybe she won't.Either way, I hope the confidence she displays on the days she decides to wake up spreads over the week. She is not like any other girl, she cares.
Applicant #003: Amirah Shahari
Congratulations, you’re almost at the end of your application! Kindly fill in your responses, exceeding no more than 500 words, for the following essay prompt!
If my room were to speak, it would describe me as persistent. It would talk about the times I put my reserved self out there.
My room would speak of practising scripts and going over and perfecting final drafts of writing pieces.
It would speak of the times when what I wanted to do more than anything, was to return to my safe space rather than to let myself be heard and seen but it watches me as I pushed myself forward. All because growing requires trying.
If the walls of my room and the things that it houses were to speak, they would describe me as an organised mess. There is comfort in putting things in order but there is also comfort in the pile of clothing left unattended on a chair.
My room might describe me as somebody who is kind to others and only sometimes to herself. It encapsulates and watches me as I lay in bed at night, counting down the hours left of rest I have left before starting over again tomorrow.
Being a safe space to leave and return to, my room will describe me as content, despite the uncertainties and at times, the heavy feelings of sadness. It will speak of how I had made it into an expense that allows me to feel, no matter how strong or quiet it is.
If growing up was a feast, my room would be the centrepiece of it. It watches me as I tethered through my early teenage years, being 13, unsure and afraid of feeling lost.
Its walls stood silently around me when I sat in bed on Sunday mornings trying to navigate my words, in hopes of it turning out to be something.
My room watches me at 16 with a quarter left of a heart, a head full of wishes and dreams that are bigger than the furniture in my entire room combined. It watches me as I work and go about my unfinished hobbies, late-night reads and movies I soon grew to find comfort in. It watches me at 20 as I learn how to love and grow into my skin and appreciate the time and the presence of those in my surroundings.
As long as I keep walking through the doors of my room, it would describe every version of who I was, who I will grow to become and who I remained to be.
Applicant #004: Katrina Chelliah
Congratulations, you’re almost at the end of your application! Kindly fill in your responses, exceeding no more than 500 words, for the following essay prompt!
I have a human being who lives here, who I’ve been trying to understand but have yet to figure out.
She keeps this room a mess. Clothes thrown out the closet and jumbled up as she searches through frantically and whispers to herself “I’m late, I’m late, I need to go!”. On finding the right outfit, she forces all the clothes back into the closet with the door barely being able to close. She then gets her perfume, which she keeps in its original box, but is somehow never in the box, always a little far off the box. Her study table is so crowded, she sometimes gets annoyed and mutters to herself “Why is there no space here?!”. Sticky notes and books that have not been finished are strewn all over. She rummages through her table trying to find her purse and keys that are never in the same spot. The only thing she keeps in order is her new keyboard, but that could also be due to the fact that she has simply not touched it in the last month.
Now, I’m sure you’re wondering what’s so confusing about her. The thing is that every once in a blue moon, sometimes even in the dead of the night, she gets off her bed and changes her personality completely. She takes a look around and says, “Enough is enough”. She gets the many mugs off her table and puts them in the sink. She organises her study table, folds all the clothes in the cupboard and wipes off any dusty areas. Then, just when you think she’s done, you hear this loud whirring sound in the silence of the night. She lugs the vacuum cleaner into the room and vacuums every inch and crevice of me. She then brings in a wet, dripping mop and cleans my floors, leaving me shiny and bright. After organising the room, she gets out her journal, writes a to-do list, gets her schedule in order, updates her calendar and essentially organises her life. After all is done, she takes a look around, smiles to herself, says “Much better” and goes to bed feeling happy and accomplished.
How weird is she?! One day, she’s the laziest person I have ever known and the next, she gets 50 things done in under an hour. Her personality seems to change like night and day. I just can't seem to figure out the human who lives in this room.
Applicant #005: Azelynna Lim Fang Een
Congratulations, you’re almost at the end of your application! Kindly fill in your responses, exceeding no more than 500 words, for the following essay prompt!
How much of my life have I spent with my computer? As I ponder this question, I am sitting in front of its screen. As I estimate the hours I’ve spent, my hands are typing away. If my computer could talk, it would probably ask if other computers see as much of their owner’s life as it does with mine. If alternate realities are real, I am confident there is one where computers are sentient and able to speak. Which leads me to my big question: How would my computer describe me?
There is no doubt it would call me a fool for pictures. Every lecture I attend, it attends with me, and we both leave with tens of pictures of my friends and I. It would call me a sucker for memories, with hundreds of pictures dating back years stuck in my files. Through its camera, it would catch glimpses of my life; The moments I ask my deskmate for a selfie, the times I would switch it on just to capture my life in film. It would ask me why I value them so incredibly. In a life always on the go, it is somewhat a relief to be able to freeze an experience as forever still. Plainly, I’d be referred to as nostalgic, sentimental, and grateful.
Even so, it would describe me as someone who never stops working. There would be times when I would stay up until the wee hours of mornings completing assignments and projects. It would notice the quietness and peacefulness of my surroundings, compared to the bustling atmosphere in my college or whenever my family is awake. Subsequently, it would crash and break down after I’ve loaded multiple softwares at once to multitask. For this, I would definitely be called impatient and demanding yet a driven go-getter and a perfectionist.
My computer’s impression of me would change during the public holidays and when assignments would grow stagnant. It would call me loud and obnoxious as I laugh and yell at my friends for letting my character die in video games. Not only that, it would call me lazy as I spend my days streaming shows and snacking throughout. If it was sentient, it would scold me for waking up in the late noon and lazing around until the early a.m. 's. I can confidently say it would describe me as an idler and a slouch.
As each day passes by, it would wonder why and how I change so quickly throughout the year. My answer would be simple; Life is no fun with all work and no play. Everyone works hard so they’re able to do what they love freely. I’d like to think in this alternate reality, my computer would nod in agreement and understand. Perhaps with our world evolving so rapidly, this alternate reality could one day become ours. When or if it does, I would ask my computer one question and one question only; How would you describe me?
That’s it! You’ve reached the end of your application! Click ‘Submit’ and your application will be looked into for several weeks. Good luck!
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