2023-24佐治亞大學(xué)最新補(bǔ)充文書題目公布
2023-11-01 17:00:58 來(lái)源：中國(guó)教育在線
近年來(lái)，越來(lái)越多的中國(guó)學(xué)子選擇留學(xué)，那其中2023-24佐治亞大學(xué)最新補(bǔ)充文書題目公布？本文則針對(duì)這個(gè)問(wèn)題，為大家整理了資料，接下來(lái)咱們就一起往下了解吧。
從初中到高中的過(guò)渡對(duì)學(xué)生來(lái)說(shuō)是一個(gè)關(guān)鍵時(shí)期，這段時(shí)間他們?cè)趯W(xué)術(shù)和個(gè)人成長(zhǎng)方面都會(huì)達(dá)到新的水平。請(qǐng)分享一本在這段時(shí)間對(duì)你影響深遠(yuǎn)的書(小說(shuō)、非小說(shuō)或其他均可)。請(qǐng)把重心放在這本書為何對(duì)你產(chǎn)生影響，而不是書本身的情節(jié)/主題(不要寫成一篇讀書報(bào)告)。
“The transition from middle to high school is a key time for students as they reach new levels of both academic and personal discovery. Please share a book (novel, non-fiction, etc.) that had a serious impact on you during this time. Please focus more on why this book made an impact on you and less on the plot/theme of the book itself (we are not looking for a book report).”
補(bǔ)充文書寫作建議：
這個(gè)提示要求你討論一本在你從初中過(guò)渡到高中的過(guò)程中給你留下深刻印象的書。在CEA，我們總是建議你選擇一個(gè)意想不到的工作，以便從人群中脫穎而出，但最終，你應(yīng)該瞄準(zhǔn)真實(shí)性而不是獨(dú)特性。如果《哈利·波特與魔法石》是你大一開(kāi)始讀的那本書，在那里你不僅找到了奇妙的逃避，而且準(zhǔn)確地反映了融入社會(huì)的掙扎(即使你不是“天選之子”)，那就寫下來(lái)吧!但是，如果你選擇了一本更常讀的書，比如來(lái)自《魔法世界》的書，我要提醒你一句:如果你的文章有任何機(jī)會(huì)給佐治亞大學(xué)的招生部門留下印象，那么你的文章必須要做得更好。
然而，如果有另一本不那么主流的書引起了你的共鳴，我們鼓勵(lì)你選擇那一本來(lái)詳細(xì)說(shuō)明。不管你的選擇是什么，當(dāng)你思考這個(gè)提示時(shí)，問(wèn)問(wèn)自己:哪些角色給了你靈感?在你合上書后，哪些情節(jié)一直縈繞在你的腦海里?你是如何把你從這個(gè)故事中學(xué)到的東西運(yùn)用到你自己的生活中的?
不管你選擇哪本書，盡量給自己多一點(diǎn)時(shí)間來(lái)思考它的影響，以及它在幫助你進(jìn)入高中的過(guò)程中所起的作用。一如既往，你的工作是給招生講一個(gè)故事，一個(gè)揭示你是誰(shuí)，你關(guān)心什么，或者是什么激勵(lì)著你的信息的故事。
佐治亞大學(xué)補(bǔ)充文書官網(wǎng)范文推薦：
If you asked me what object I’d save in a burning fire, I’d save my notebook. My notebook isn’t just any notebook, it’s bubble gum pink with purple tie dye swirls, and has gold coil binding it together. But more importantly, it’s the key that unlocked my superpower, sending me soaring into the sky, flying high above any problems that could ever catch me. However, my notebook is simply the key. My real power rests in the depths of my mind, in my passion for writing. But to know how my powers came to be (not from a spider or a special rock), I must travel back to the first spark.
Nine years ago, on a cold winter morning, I sat at my tiny wooden desk in Mr. Barton’s famous Writer’s Workshop class. While I have no recollection of what I wrote, I can vividly recall my joy, the speed of my hand guiding the pencil on the paper, and the thrill I had knowing that I was the puppeteer. The story could be completely mine as long as I had my imagination. At this moment, my creative powers sparked like a car engine. This was the first time I truly enjoyed writing.
Four years ago, I wrote my first 6-word memoir in my eighth-grade rhetoric class. Inspired by my father’s recently diagnosed terminal illness, I wrote “Take his words, don’t take him”. It was as if all the energy of my powers surged into six meaningful words meant to honor the man that I would soon lose to a villain known as ALS. This was the first time I felt my writing.
Three years ago, my dad’s disease severely progressed. The ALS seized his ability to speak and locked it in a tower with no key. The only way we could communicate was with an old spiral notebook. Black pen ink filled the pages with his distinctive handwriting I personally liked to call chicken scratch. He was frail, yet full of life, when I walked into his room one day. He motioned for to me to read the notebook, and in his best chicken scratch it read, “I Love You”. Using my best eighth-grade girl penmanship, I wrote back, “I LOVE YOU MORE”. This was the first time I needed my writing.
Two years ago, I found my key. I drove to Target and purchased my bubble gum pink, purple swilled tie dye, and gold coil binding notebook. My powers always dwelled deep inside me, but the instant I opened my notebook, it was as if a bright light illuminated my face, unlocking a world of possibility. Feeling frustrated about the recent passing of my dad, I took my feelings to paper. My hand flew, and before I knew it, I was left with a poem, entitled “Broken Smile”. Once completed, I was speechless. I never understood that I could feel so deeply about the words I had to say, that I could feel so powerful in a world that often rendered me powerless. I felt… like a superhero.
One year ago, my powers began to flourish. My perfect pink notebook became the key to my inner thoughts and feelings… my superpower. I journaled about my day, wrote poems and meticulously crafted stories. But most significantly, tucked between the pages, I always carried a folded piece of paper to keep me inspired: a letter in the most beautiful chicken scratch I had ever seen.
One month ago, I needed my powers more than ever before. I needed them to convey who I truly am for the chance at the future of my dreams as a writer. Except this time, I didn’t need the key because my powers grew into fruition. Instead, I opened my laptop only to type out one sentence… “If you asked me what object to save in a burning fire, I’d save my notebook.” Ariel A.
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