The Handbook / Chapter 18
My Kind of Town | Terry
Some places have indelible personalities. New York has its customary I’m-walkin’-hee-ah hubris, Los Angeles struts its chilled cosmopolitan stuff, and New Orleans seduces with its laissez-faire second line spirit. You wouldn’t mistake one for the others. The energy is unique and infectious. As the world grows more and more homogeneous, Paneras and Pizza Huts popping up on every other corner, regional flavor can get squeezed out. Fortunately there are still places, and people, that resist the pressure to conform.
Our 10th and final personal statement will show us how such a place can shape a person. Like any other aspect of a story, it has to know its . . . place. You must remain the focus while using place as an interesting frame, one that enhances our appreciation of the picture and increases our understanding. But it must never overpower or distract us from the star of the show.
When I think of the more colorful characters from my college class, the name often comes with a place. Johnnie from Chicago. Bradley from Detroit. People who embody a place make the world more interesting for the rest of us. It might be the accent. Or the attitude. My freshmen roommates hailed from Boston, Denver, New York, New Jersey, and North Carolina. It made for a flavorful stew.
There aren’t geographical quotas at Harvard nor most other colleges. Great people come from all over. By the end of each admissions season, there are students admitted from every state and a slew of foreign countries. Without legislating it, the incoming class is a wildly diverse group of people from all over. Does it help to identify yourself as a native son or daughter?
Can’t hurt.
Meet Terry.
In his case, it’s the accent and the attitude. He’s pure Chicago, a no-nonsense, don’t take yourself too seriously, call it like it is kind of guy. If you want to know a piece of his history, he tells you straight. You want to know how he feels about winter on the lake, he doesn’t hold back. There’s no guile and no games. Did I mention da Bears?
PERSONAL CHARACTERISTICS | TERRY
SOCIABLE
CARING
AMIABLE
EMPATHETIC
LOYAL
SENSITIVE
AFFABLE
DISCIPLINED
VIBRANT
TACTFUL
Like Ella, Terry has had to adjust to swapping houses weekly. His parents split up when he was eleven. By now it’s second nature to pack a backpack and duffle with whatever the next four days demand. Plenty of kids call themselves independent but if you want to know what that looks like for real, ask the kid who knows how to avoid getting reprimanded by a teacher for showing up without the required assignment. That kid gets it.
When he unspools the crazy story of concocting a plan to stay behind when his parents leave Chicago, I ask him to consider making it the spine of his personal statement. Although he also gets a chance to reveal his resourceful side and a rugged sense of humor, he shows himself as a born and bred Chicagoan..
PERSONAL STATEMENT | TERRY
Like most kids, I was raised by a mom and a dad. But I had a third parent, the city of Chicago. And let me tell you, Chicago is a mother.
When I was 11, my parents filed for divorce. I have no memory of the time between hearing my dad drive away and turning 14. I do recall feeling introverted but I knew my mom would be there for me. It was then my mom was offered a job in Los Angeles, one she had always dreamed of. This would mean I’d be uprooted and transplanted across the country. I was happy for my mother but I was confused about where it left me.
After thinking about leaving everyone and everything I knew, I decided on a plan. As my mom finalized the details of her move, I presented her with a different arrangement, one that left me in Chicago living with my grandparents. I reasoned that I’d get to spend valuable time with them, finish high school, and get more in touch with my family’s culture. I was shocked when she was receptive to my proposal and agreed to give it a go. We decided to reevaluate the summer after freshman year. As my mother headed out of the door bags in hand, I sat with my sister on my bed and, after a moment of stunned silence, we broke into nervous laughter. I remember thinking, How am I going to handle Chicago on my own?
Almost immediately, I got my first lesson. On the bus ride home from school, I got dropped off and looked around the CVS parking lot. Of course, my mom's car was nowhere. A quick call to my grandparents confirmed no one was picking me up, but they were in fact at home. I was alone in the city, it was just me and her.
I started walking and a massive crowd of highschool kids walking to the train approached. I felt strangely nervous and crossed the street. When you’re downtown you have to know your place. Twenty minutes later, as I walked up my driveway, I was startled to find four teenagers crouched behind our garbage cans smoking. I took off running around the block until I reached the front door. Maybe they wouldn’t have messed with me but around here you have to know your surroundings.
Now that I’m in high school, I take a new route home. On my walk to the train, I stop at my favorite hot dog stand, Carm’s, for a watermelon italian ice. Carm and I have become friends and bonded over our love of Chicago sports. Even with countless highschool kids coming through his shop, the second I arrive he calls me by name and asks if I want the usual.
In Chicago, if you respect people they respect you back.
I was right, living with my grandparents helped me connect with my family’s Italian/Mexican heritage. Whether dressed in authentic Venetian garb (blue tunic, blue pants, white mask with gold sequins) at the Italian-American Human Relations Foundation charity dinner with my cousins and grandma, or making chilaquiles with my great grandmother, I dive deeper into my family's rich history.
Four years later, I’m proud of the confidence and respect my family had for me at such a young age. This decision undoubtedly changed me, shaped me into who I am today. Although these past years have been challenging, it forced me to become more independent and more responsible.
But I had a lot of help. My mom was with me whenever she could. My sister guided me before she left for college. My grandparents taught me family comes first. My teachers pushed me to always be better. My friends got me through the rough times. And lastly, my 2nd mother. I’ll take the lessons she taught me wherever I go.
End.
Having to care for himself sped his development and, after reading his essay, there is no doubt about his ability to take care of himself. His willingness to undertake the challenge, and to have conjured it up at all, speaks to Terry’s confidence. Not every 14-year-old would feel sufficiently secure to live apart from his parents. We learn something important about his priorities that he would risk so much to remain with his class.
The lessons he learns are ones only taught by lived experience. The radar he develops to detect, and avoid, potential trouble endears us to him. I felt protective of him beforehand and proud of him after. Having become more sensitive to his surroundings, Terry is a secondary resource for any college if he can use his good sense to prevent his classmates from similar dangers.
Carm’s watermelon Italian ice is as splendid an example of sense memory as I can imagine. That’s just a delicious image. That it comes with a daily check-in from a friendly neighborhood shopkeeper makes it a solid home run.
Colleges can no longer use an applicant’s race as admissions criteria but they still value cultural and regional diversity. They know that an essential component to a successful college experience is the cultural cross-pollination that takes place among its students. If you can demonstrate your ethnic and community connections, it will matter. Terry’s ability to include his Italian/Mexican heritage flavors his story nicely.
Finally, his observation about a shared respect among Chicagoans is so genuine that he wins ours and with it our affection.
Love this evocation of place!