对申请人来说，在标准化考试成绩相差无几的情况下，如果想从众多申请者中脱颖而出、顺利申请到心仪的名校，就需要在文书方面下足了功夫。可以毫不夸张的说，文书是否精彩出众，在某种程度上可以直接影响到你最终的申请结果。

但很多申请者在极其痛苦难熬的文书写作过程里，都绞尽脑汁，几近抓狂。翻来覆去之后，还是觉得自己十七八岁的人生里，一无是处，没有任何了不起的大事可以叙述。对此，哈维·穆德学院的招生办主任Peter Osgood一针见血地指出，这个问题的关键在于——你是如何呈现你的文字的，你是不是一个会讲故事的人。学生有时会问：“我要怎样才能写出一份真的很棒的申请文书呢?”Peter的答复是：有些人可以把很普通的话题写成一篇动人的文章，也有些人可以把一段有趣的经历写得让人读起来乏味无比。

那么如何写出一篇好的文书呢?招生官到底期待什么样的文书?想找一些优秀文书作为参考?作为一所享誉全球的高校——哈佛大学在官网上公布了10篇优秀Essay范文。下面节选了其中三篇，附上了学生档案，一起看看学霸们的文书吧~

1、亚裔Bobby

ESSAY正文

Bold white rafters ran overhead,bearing upon their great iron shoulders the weight of the skylight above.Late evening rays streamed through these sprawling glass panes,casting a gentle glow upon all that they graced—paper and canvases and paintbrushes alike.As day became night,the soft luminescence of the art studio gave way to a fluorescent glare,defining the clean rectilinear lines of Dillon Art Center against the encroaching darkness.It was a studio like no other.Modern.Sophisticated.Professional.

And it was clean and white and nice.

But it just wasn't it.

Because to me,there was only one"it,"and"it"was a little less than two thousand miles west,an unassuming little office building located amidst a cluster of similarly unassuming little office buildings,distinguishable from one another on the outside only by the rusted numbers nailed to each door.Inside,crude photocopies of students'artwork plastered the once white walls.Those few openings in between the tapestry of art were dotted with grubby little handprints,repurposed by some overzealous young artist as another surface for creative expression.In the middle of the room lay two long tables,each covered with newspaper,upon which were scattered dried-up markers and lost erasers and bins of unwanted colored pencils.These were for the younger children.The older artists—myself included—sat around these tables with easels,in whatever space the limited confines of the studio allowed.The instructor sometimes talked,and we sometimes listened.Most of the time,though,it was just us—children,drawing and talking and laughing and sweating in the cluttered and overheated mess of an art studio.

No,it was not so clean and not so white and not so nice.But I have drawn—rather,lived—in this studio for most of my past ten years.I suppose this is strange,as the rest of my life can best be characterized by everything the studio is not:cleanliness and order and structure.But then again,the studio was like nothing else in my life,beyond anything in which I've ever felt comfortable or at ease.

Sure,I was frustrated at first.My carefully composed sketchbooks—the proportions just right,the contrast perfected,the whiteness of the background meticulously preserved—were often marred by the frenzied strokes of my instructor's charcoal as he tried to teach me not to draw accurately,but passionately.I hated it.But thus was the fundamental gap in my artistic understanding—the difference between the surface realities that I wanted to depict,and the profound though elusive truths of the human condition that art could explore.It was the difference between drawing a man's face and using abstraction to explore his soul.

And I can't tell you exactly when or why my attitude changed,but eventually my own lines began to unabashedly disregard the rules of depth or tonality to which I had once dutifully adhered,my fervor leaving in its wake black fingerprints and smudges where once had existed unsoiled whiteness.It was in this studio that I eventually made the leap into a new realm of art—a realm in which I was neither experienced nor comfortable.Apart from surface manifestations altogether,this realm was simultaneously one of austere simplicity and aesthetic intricacy,of departure from realism and immersion in reality,of intense emotion and uninhibited expression.It was the realm of lines that could tell stories,of colors and figures that meant nothing and everything.

Indeed,it was the realm of disorder and messy studios and true art—a place where I could express the world like I saw it,in colors and strokes unrestrained by expectations or rules;a place where I could find refuge in the contours of my own chaotic lines;a place that was neither beautiful nor ideal,but real.

No,it was not so clean and not so white and not so nice.

But then again,neither is art.

点评：文章最突出的是意象组合，运用“Late evening rays...casting a gentle glow”，“the soft luminescence of the art studio...a fluorescent glare”将读者迅速带入作品，立马领会文章主题：艺术。这篇文章最吸引人的地方在于它是一个成长的故事，记录了Bobby从孩童到青少年的成长，艺术创作也从有序、浅显走向抽象、深刻。

2、保加利亚的Jessica

ESSAY正文

As a child raised on two continents,my life has been defined by the“What if…?”question.What if I had actually been born in the United States?What if my parents had not won that Green card?What if we had stayed in the USA and had not come back to Bulgaria?These are the questions whose answers I will never know(unless,of course,they invent a time machine by 2050).

“Born in Bulgaria,lived in California,currently lives in Bulgaria”is what I always write in the About Me section of an Internet profile.Hidden behind that short statement is my journey of discovering where I belong.

My parents moved to the United States when I was two years old.For the next four years it was my home country.I was an American.I fell in love with Dr.Seuss books and the PBS Kids TV channel,Twizzlers and pepperoni,Halloweens and Thanksgivings the yellow school bus and the“Good job!”stickers.

It took just one day for all of that to disappear.When my mother said“We are moving back to Bulgaria,”I naively asked,“Is that a town or a state?”

Twenty hours later I was standing in the middle of an empty room,which itself was in the middle of an unknown country.

It was then that the“what if”—my newly imagined adversary—made its first appearance.It began to follow me on my way to school.It sat right behind me in class.No matter what I was doing,I could sense its ubiquitous presence.

The“what if”slowly took its time over the years.Just when it seemed to have faded away,it reappeared resuming its tormenting influence on me—a constant reminder of all that could have been.What if I had won that national competition in the United States?What if I joined a Florida tennis club?What if I became a part of an American non-governmental organization?Would I value my achievements more if I had continued riding that yellow school bus every morning?

But something—at first unforeseen and vastly unappreciated—gradually worked its way into my heart and mind loosening the tight grip of the“what if”—Bulgaria.I rediscovered my home country—hours spent in the library reading about Bulgaria’s history spreading over fourteen centuries,days reading books and comparing the Glagolitic and Cyrillic scripts,years traveling to some of the most remote corners of my country.It was a cathartic experience and with it finally came the discovery and acceptance of who I am.

I no longer feel the need to decide where I belong.I am like a football fan that roots for both teams during the game.(If John Isner ever plays a tennis match against Grigor Dimitrov,I will definitely be like that fan.)Bulgaria and the USA are not mutually exclusive.Instead,they complement each other in me,whether it be through incorporating English words in my daily speech,eating my American pancakes with Bulgarian white brine cheese,or still having difficulty communicating through gestures(we Bulgarians are notoriously famous for shaking our heads side to side when we mean“yes”and nodding to mean“no).

As a child raised on two continents,my life will be defined by the“What…?”question.What have Bulgaria and the USA given me?What can I give them back?What does the future hold for me?This time,I will not need a time machine to find the answers I am seeking.

点评：美国VS保加利亚，学者VS网球运动员……Jessica阐述了自己关于“身份认同”的心理变化，这是一篇“将潜在困难转变为积极因素”的典型大学Essay，面对生活中的“what if假设”，从起初的懊恼，到后面的转变心态，用“重新发现”来积极应对。

3、亚裔Phillip

ESSAY正文

The summer after my freshman year,I found myself in an old classroom holding a blue dry erase-marker,realizing what should have been obvious:I had no idea how to be a teacher.As an active speech and debate competitor,I was chosen as a volunteer instructor for an elementary public speaking camp hosted by my high school.For the first time,I would have the opportunity to experience the classroom from the other side of the teacher’s desk.My responsibility was simple:in two weeks,take sixteen fifth graders and turn them into confident,persuasive speakers.

I walked into class the first morning,enthusiastically looking forward to the opportunity to share my knowledge,experiences,and stories.I was hoping for motivated kids,eager to learn,attentive to my every word.

I was on the other side of the teacher’s desk,but I hadn’t stopped learning.Each day,I was learning how to communicate more effectively,how to deal with new challenges and circumstances,and how to be a better teacher.I once thought that being an adult meant knowing all the answers.But in reality,adults,even teachers,constantly have more to learn.I made the transition away from being a child during those weeks,but I did not and would not transition away from being a learner.

When class ended each afternoon,I would cap my blue dry-erase marker,give high-fives to the students as they walked out the door,and watch as their parents picked them up.I was confident that when my students were asked the inevitable questions of“Did you learn something today?”and“Did you have fun?”their answers would be a resounding yes.And even as their teacher,I learned and had fun too.

Instead,I got Spencer,who thought class was a good time to train his basketball skills by tossing crumpled speeches into the trash can from afar.I got Monica,who refused to speak,and I got James,who didn’t understand the difference between“voice projection”and“screaming.”I got London,who enjoyed doodling on her desk with permanent marker,and I got Arnav,who thought I wouldn’t notice him playing Angry Birds all day.The only questions I got were“When’s lunch break?”and“Why are you giving us homework?”and the only time I got my students to raise their hands was when I asked“How many of you are only here because your parents forced you to?”

Just ten minutes into class,two things hit me:Spencer’s crumpled paper ball,and the realization that teaching was hard.

When I was younger,I thought that a good teacher was one that gave high-fives after class.Later,of course,I knew it was far more complicated than that.I thought about teachers I admired and their memorable qualities.They were knowledgeable,enthusiastic,and inspiring.Their classes were always fun,and they always taught me something.

There was plenty I wanted to teach,from metaphors to logical fallacies.But most importantly,I wanted my students to enjoy public speaking,to love giving speeches as much as I did.And that’s when I realized the most important quality of my favorite teachers:passion.They loved their subject and passed that love on to their students.While it wouldn’t be easy,I wanted to do the same.

Every day for two weeks,I searched for creative ways to inspire and teach my students.I helped London speak on her love for art;I had Arnav debate about cell phone policies in schools.And by the end of the camp,I realized that my sixteen students all saw me not as a high school student,but as a teacher.I took their questions,shared my enthusiasm,and by the time camp was over,they weren’t just learning,but enjoying learning.

点评：这篇essay主题是经过慎重考虑的：作者没有用华丽的功绩让我们眼花缭乱，也没想着炫耀取得成就的广度和深度。相反，选择了一个简单的小故事，依靠在公共演讲训练营与孩子们一起工作的经历，突显个人成长。此外，Phillip的文章自信且清晰，他是在讲故事，而不是炫耀吹牛。

这些文书，没有华丽辞藻，但每篇都有自己的个性，都告诉招生官你是一个怎样的人。

很多中国学生喜欢堆砌辞藻，展示自己“完美”的履历，以为这种文书一定很棒。但是很多时候，你以为了不起的文书可能根本不出挑。

正如中国学生已经对美国大学的文书套路烂熟于心一样，招生官们也早已洞察了中国学生的文书套路。

加州大学洛杉矶分校前招生官Christian Tanja无奈地坦言，他已经很难在中国学生的文书里说出一个出挑的故事，因为他们的故事几乎都是千篇一律的：『我看中国学生的申请材料时常常觉得他们写得都差不多，他们的分数都很高，学术知识也很扎实，甚至连课外活动都安排得很系统。你总是可以看到他们参加“根与芽”项目，在“仁人家园”做公益，或者在安徽省的志愿者经历。你看到几乎千篇一律的简历和文书，而这些却不一定能使人眼前一亮，他们并不一定能让我了解这个学生个性的独特之处，他们只是不会出错的标准答案而已。我不是说这样的文书有多糟糕，它不会为一个学生扣分，但这种文书也一定不会为他们加分。

不只是Tanja，来自Swarthmore的招生官Andrea Pien对此也深有同感，她笑说：“做志愿者，这当然是个不错的话题。但几乎每一个人都说自己做过志愿者。”

而在Parke Muth看来，这其中最大的误区在于：要想让自己的故事给人留下深刻的印象，人们通常都会顺理成章地把自己做过的最杰出的事情说给别人听。然而这却并不能使他们脱颖而出。Parke Muth解释道：对于多数17、18岁的年轻人，你们杰出的经历其实大同小异。而大家并没有意识到这一点。即便你在高中表现优异，不要忘记，还有其他许许多多的人在高中也一样是佼佼者。所以你需要全面仔细地衡量。不要仅仅因为你是高中模联社的社长就觉得自己很了不起，尽管这在中国的确是件很了不起的事情，但它并不能真正打动别人，因为还有成百上千的人也把他们在模联社的活动当作很了不起的经历。他们以为这能使他们的文书脱颖而出，但其实并没有。

这并不是说，学生会与志愿者经历没有意义，而是提醒大家：不要让文书陷入格式化和程序化之中。假如这些确实是你的热情所在，你的经历必然会对你的成长有所帮助。然而，如果你只是复制与模仿过去成功的案例，那么这些所谓“杰出”的标签本身并没有丝毫用处，反而会让你看起来不那么“真实”。

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