Dưới đây là hai bài luận của một sinh viên Mỹ được đại học Yale chấp nhận theo diện chuyển trường (transfer). Hai bài luận này là những ví dụ điển hình về việc dùng những từ ngữ đơn giản nhưng vô cùng hiệu quả. Essay by Anonymous (Yale) Why Yale? I believe that transferring to Yale will offer me the opportunity to take concrete steps towards a career with engineering and economics overlaps, by studying in one of the most highly regarded engineering faculties in the nation, whilst at the same time furthering my interest in the latter. My final years in high school through to my present college career have seen the personal solidification of long-held intellectual interests and the emergence in myself of a new genre. In the latter I am referring to economics, which I first studied in high school, and which has, as a matter of fact, rivaled my hitherto sole interest in the field of engineering. Upon entering college, I embarked on the study of both economics and physical sciences due to the profound interest I had in both fields. My learning experience thus far at Occidental College has been fulfilling as best as it could. A major drawback however, is the non-existence of an engineering faculty at the college. My primary reason for seeking admission to Yale is to access one of the best engineering courses the nation has to offer whilst at the same time nurturing my interest in economics into fully-grown proportions. The desire to study both economics and engineering is indeed a true reflection of the influence that my educational experiences have had on me thus far. Experiencing the kind of broad liberal arts education that Occidental College offers its students, has accentuated more than ever, my desire for an education that transcends the barriers of one particular field. At Oxy, my intellectual boundaries have been stretched, from a course in contemporary journalism, to classes in Shakespeare and the intellectually dazzling world of classical (Greek) philosophy. In all this, my primary focus has not been fazed. Instead I have willingly taken up the challenge to subject myself to a few of the many dimensions of education that make one competitive in a world that is getting increasingly hungry for the multifaceted individual. Being at Yale will provide me a stage upon which I can fully unfold my interest in economics whilst coupling it with a rigorous electrical engineering program that seeks to make one highly competitive in the job market upon completion. Should I gain admission to Yale, I intend to embark on the B.S in Engineering Sciences (Electrical) program. This will so aptly give me the opportunity to double major in economics and electrical engineering, one I am truly relishing. Yale’s commitment to academic and social excellence, one that has come to be the hallmark of the Ivy League, is an ideal I strongly want to partake of. I believe an institution of Yale’s stature will greatly invest in human development, making the best resources available to the individual for self-enhancement What sets Yale apart from other engineering schools, I believe is that besides providing an excellent education in the classroom, the Yale community is a great setting for social interactions. The university’s ten schools, attracting highly ambitious career seekers in diverse fields, make it a marketplace for ideologies and make Yale in itself, a miniature model of the real world; with all the potential lawyers, nurses, doctors, economists and musicians that convene to make Yale a diverse assembly. The opportunity to live in such an environment is one I am particularly looking forward to since it provides a better appreciation of the interdisciplinary overlaps of today’s career fields, and makes one acutely aware of the practical essence of knowledge acquired in the classroom. I am looking forward to Yale as the genesis of a new chapter in my life in which I cap my educational experiences with one that facilitates the attainment of all my goals and is truly rewarding in nature. Essay by the same author (Yale) A Season’s Flag When the golden brown leaves begin to crunch underneath my feet and the temperatures begin to drop, the flag, which hangs over our garage and blows with every cool, crisp breeze of a fall day, is decorated with a funny looking jack-o-lantern and a scary old witches broom. A rickety, antique wagon holds purple, red, and orange mums that will soon die when winter comes barreling in. This fall scene stands in front of my house until a turkey is baked and the sweet smell of a pumpkin pie mingles in the chilly, brisk air. Little white lights shine brightly through newly fallen snow. A snowstorm has draped my front yard with a blanket of snow like a freshly washed sheet covers a newly made bed. The flag, heavy with snow, shows a picture of a jolly old man dressed in red, a replica of the plastic figure those guards our front door. The weather outside is so cold that the kitchen tiles indoors are like a sheet of ice, too frigid to walk on with bare feet. An evergreen wreath, dressed in a gold and red ribbon, sways back and forth as a frigid wind blows threw my front porch. This wind lifts the snow up off the icy bricks and places it back down on the other side of the stoop. When the last snow has fallen and the ice on my driveway begins to melt away, my mother will come outside and change the flag to match the rising temperature. Although a chill still lingers in the air, children run through the recently green grass in shorts and t-shirts. The kids are too stubborn and too excited to believe that a bit of winter is still lingering in the shadows, like death lurking behind the hospital bed of a dying man. Spring, like a newborn baby, is happily welcomed into the world and embraced with open arms that have patiently waited for its arrival. The trees are green, the sun is warm, and the people are happier. School is near it’s ending and summer is creeping around every corner, waiting to begin. Blooming rapidly as they spread blankets of color and life throughout my front yard, the flowers are being watered by my mother and flown through by a buzzing bumblebee. A baseball bat and ball are plastered onto a proudly flown flag, which is hung like a coat of arms over my garage. Slithering down the curves of my cheek as a waterfall slides down the side of a mountain, sweat pours from my forehead as I lie out on the scorching hot sand of an overcrowded beach. At home, my front porch holds huge flowers begging for a drop of water and swim floats searching for their rightful place in my backyard’s pool. The flag, now hung from the poolside deck, holds a little girl with blonde pigtails and a snorkel. A pitcher of lemonade has droplets of water skating down the side of a clear, glass vase, as a thirsty swimmer pours it over and allows the lemonade to travel from the pitcher to a small, plastic glass. The thermometers are about to explode with the rapidly rising temperatures and the lazy days of summer are lying on a pool float drifting around day by day. The season’s change, the temperatures vary, and the weather fluctuates. The flag that hangs over my garage matches and enhances each season at hand as a pearl necklace accessorizes a new black dress. Like the changing of the guards at Buckingham Palace, the changing of the flag comes with every new season. The seasons are welcomed at my house with open arms and flown proudly from atop my garage.