贾平凸 名博

白人女生的宾大WL文书

《Teaching in individuality》

Clara stares at the sheet music. Her brow furrows in acute concentration. I nudge her gently, "Let's try it again." She's perched on the piano bench, eyes fixed on the song "Petite Minuet" from Faber & Faber Primer Level Piano Lesson Book. She takes a deep breath and reattempts the measure-wrong again. While I smile reassuringly, my mind races, devising new methods of translating the dots, squiggles, and lines that cover the page into meaning for a seven-year-old's brain.

For a moment, I reminisce on when I was a young girl in the initial phase of my eleven piano-playing years, and shift my perspective to Clara's. Remembering the effectiveness of mnemonic devices in helping me absorb new concepts, I decide to reiterate the acronyms I taught her for the notes on the staff.

"Think FACE. In the treble clef, the space notes go F-A-C-E from the bottom up, remember? And line notes go 'Every Good Bird Does Fly.' E-G-B-D-F, right?" Slowly, her brow unfurrows, and I see the confusion fade from her eyes. "So, what note would that be?" I prompt.

"Urn ... G!" She exclaims, beaming with immense pride.

"Great!" I cry out, making sure to emphasize the excitement in my voice. I repeat, "Let's try it again."

What started out as a short-term gig — away to save up money during my freshman year — has evolved into so much more. When I teach piano, I'm a multitasker: I studiously observe my four students, absorbing every detail of their behavior and musical improvement. I pinpoint the areas in which they have difficulty and where they shine, learn the nuances of their idiosyncrasies, and adapt my own teaching to their individual learning styles.

Take, for instance, Alma. She struggles to maintain her focus. As she goes off on tangents about studio Ghibli and complains about learning new songs, I calmly concoct strategies for making piano engaging. Over time, I've learned that in order to keep a grasp on her attention span, I must strike a balance between encouraging her own creativity and reeling her back into the heavy work of learning music. Thus, I alternate between having her write her own songs- to mesh her love for composition and improvisation with reading musical notes and symbols- and pushing her to learn new pieces.

For Kailie, the challenge is conveying rhythm. Despite her remarkable ability to learn music by heart, she struggles to perceive the differences between patterns of sound. After discovering her knack for numbers, I decided to approach music through a mathematical lens, explaining note lengths in terms of fractions and drawing diagrams to elucidate the concept of a musical measure. Gradually, I've helped her incorporate these concepts into her playing, synthesizing the numerical elements with melodic ones to form songs.

 

And with Emi, the difficulty comes in forging a trusting relationship in which she can communicate her needs. Although she's amazing at sight-reading and immensely dedicated to practicing, she often has trouble expressing when she doesn't understand something. After realizing this, I began taking note of her various facial cues and eventually started recognizing which ones indicate confusion. Furthermore, I've drifted our conversations towards topics beyond piano-from recounting a joke about pasta to sharing about my social insecurities that have arisen after I experienced a falling out with my best friend--connecting with her on a deeper level. As she's grown more comfortable with communication, my capacity to help her- through clapping rhythms or repeating measures of a song in circuit- has greatly expanded.

As I teach, exploring how music interacts with each student’s distinct mind, I deepen my own musical awareness, fuel my curiosity. In creating new avenues to reach understanding, I develop my ability to identify someone's needs and modify my actions to accommodate them. Every one of my students is fascinatingly unique. Yet, that's the beauty of teaching music: seeing each difference not as a barrier, but as an opportunity for me to learn.

先说好话。这是一篇文字流畅的文书，主题是a talent or interest of teaching in individual differences。但好话就这么多了。

下面说说坏话。

作者申请的S、H、Y都拒绝，UPenn被WL的原因很简单。好的文书，不是简单的文字流畅。还要有恰当结构的故事走线。这篇从Clara开始，到Alma、Kailie、Emi发展，最后的结束“seeing each difference as opportunity to learn,” 这是一篇简单的总分总结构的说明文。这就不是在讲故事了，而是一篇说明文。即使，她的语言流畅。

不具讲述性的文书，就缺乏感染力。这对于RD阶段的顶尖校AO来说，就是最忌讳的状况。那个时光，哎，AO们也真挺不容易的了。

你们知道怎么才叫 narrative essay吧？作者大概是把自己narrative的功力，都用在了语句上了。真正的narrative essay，要有篇章、语句、词汇三个层次的narrative展现。这篇是写给中文读者看的。我们就用具有这个属性的、最简单的例子来说什么是narrative essay。

 

关关雎鸠，在河之洲。窈窕淑女，君子好逑。

参差荇菜，左右流之。窈窕淑女，寤寐求之。

求之不得，寤寐思服。悠哉悠哉，辗转反侧。

参差荇菜，左右采之。窈窕淑女，琴瑟友之。

参差荇菜，左右芼之。窈窕淑女，钟鼓乐之。

 

这虽古诗经，但是他的文字例证Narrative Essay的全部重要元素。

1）主题写人，但文字起于物（雎鸠），这是兴（兴起）。

2）雎鸠和淑女，荇菜参差和我的寤寐，以物喻人，这是赋（赋予）。

3）寤寐求之、琴瑟友之、钟鼓乐之的三段并列，这是比（排比）。

 

这三种基本的文字手法，就是用于驾驭读者情绪的。任何文字都是通的，具体形式不同而已。College App Essay，有它所适合的兴、赋和比。兴是文书故事intro的选择，赋是以喻为主体的形象化文字，比是故事的主线结构而不是排比。

拿这篇来说，做兴的Clara和后面三个例子的Alma Kailie Emi属于同一逻辑分类，没本质差异，这第一个错误。这三个例子是明显的平行排比结构，在一个地方过分阐述，这是啰嗦。赋的成分也不多，仅仅是文字的流畅而已。