Personal Statement : Hit The Studio And Start Recording My Mixtape

I hurried to get dressed with a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up past my cast. I also wore a red tie and black skinny jeans. I could only sing so we had to use the track guitar. Last thing I had to do was my vocal warmups. I finished and went to the side of the stage. My mind was swirled with thoughts as the video ran and our cue was said to go on stage. My microphone was on me and I was as ready as I was ever going to be. We all ran on stage and started to play. We started with undisclosed desires. Since I didn’t have my guitar to play it gave me a chance to rest and just

Pursing a career as a medical doctor is an opportunity for me to mentor youth in underserved populations. As a child, I was raised in the low income, urban community of Roxbury, MA. Although not as notorious today, the neighborhood had garnered negative attention for its high crime rates. My mother emigrated from Haiti and raised me as a single parent. Due to our financial circumstance, Roxbury became our permanent residence. I have always felt there was something lacking in Roxbury in comparison to other towns I visited. My teenage years were largely spent in the suburban town of Stoneham where I attended high school. There was a literal difference in air quality and a psychology contrast in future prospects. While native students of

There are few certainties of what one will encounter during life. A common joke names two: death and

“They were into you, so they made you a tape” is the simple description of, and rationale for, a mixtape according to Cassette From My Ex, a website devoted to these audio artifacts. Mixtapes (distinct from dance mixes) were carefully edited compilations of obscure and familiar songs arranged to express the maker’s interests and tell an aural story, often designed for a particular and/or intimate listener. Göran Hugo Olsson’s mixtape documentary is a chronological, musically structured collage tracing the arc of the Black Power movement from its inception during the civil rights era through its dissolution as drugs began to erode black communities in the Seventies, created with rarely seen footage culled from the archives of Swedish Television.

The only thing that took my interest that night was my train of thought. Horrid, unsettling thoughts that held my self-control and fed on it, seeming as though it enjoyed the pain I experienced. They didn’t stop, never took a break, echoing voices and small dancing memories that cause you to shutter. They were indescribable as well, something others wouldn’t understand. Of course, I knew this for a fact, the band had proven it. I knew that they noticed my struggles, but they never attempted to look further into it. Just, “another one of my phases.”

Here's a little something' bout a nigga like me never should of been let out the penitentiary Ice Cube would like to say that I'm a crazy mothafucka from around the way. Since I was a youth, I smoked weed out now I’m the mutha fucka that you read about. Taking' a life or two that's what the hell I do, you don't like how I'm living well fuck you! This is a gang, and I'm in it my man Durrell fuck you up in a minute with a right, left, right left you toothless and then you say goddamn they ruthless! Everywhere we go they say [damn!] N W A's fuckin' up the program and then you realize we don't care, we don't just say no, we too busy saying' yeah!

You drive far into town, through the house you had once called home on Madison and Sixth. The new owners have repainted. It hurls the memories back at you and you allow yourself feel again—the clattering of Lego against wooden floors, his voice barreling to quieting yours, father and son playing catch on the green lawn. You allow yourself feel these things. The

We say we can’t wait to get out of here and leave this small nose budding town but years from now these are the times we’re going to look back on and the way it has shaped me into who I am today has made the biggest impact on my life. Growing up never having an empty house, always knowing someone has got your back, and the support everyone shows is not something you get to experience in other places like big cities. The town may of not had much to do but that’s when it taught us that everyone needs to learn to live a little and quit hiding behind screens all day. Now as I start to come to the end of my high school education I am ready to go explore the real world and use everything this town has taught me to try and make it a better place. My life experiences and story have prepared me for the bigger and better things in life and as I prepare to move on I can’t wait to see where they take

Personal Statement As an aspiring film and game music scorer, I wish to study in an environment where I could meet like-minded students. Ever since I was young, I had affection for video games as well as video game soundtracks. I find it fascinating that music can play an integral role in bringing the players into a world of its own, putting me into the shoes of the characters themselves. This source of connection creates alternate universes for the audience is something that makes me greatly admire the composers and creators of video games. UCLA has one of the best film and videogame scoring programs in the world, and I wish to be part of that.

It was a bright and early morning on a Friday, and I was doing my ordinary thing. Like brushing my teeth, getting my school supplies ready, and etc I then walked to the bus stop and waited, and waited, until the bus finally arrived. I got on the bus, sat down and listen to my music. I always listen to hard core Hip-hop/Rap. We all had finally arrived to school waiting for the teacher to call the kids to get off the bus and go inside. A few minutes later the teacher said to let the kids off the bus and I headed into the school.

I treasured the moment. I put on my shades and walked across the hall with a determined look. I made my way backstage and was suddenly called to the stage. The spotlight was brighter than the suns ray. I foolishly put my shades back on and take a look around me. Complete silence was around me. Such a quiet, yet eerie atmosphere. Eyes across the stage followed me like a homing missile. I strum a chord and begin playing. A rough start was quickly changed whenever the music began progressing. After all, all that practice made me

From a young age I craved the satisfaction of having some sort of representation. Do not get me wrong, there are plenty of amazing musicians but ever since I was given the chance to play the cello I always asked myself why there were rarely any Latina women in the classical world. I always wanted a role model, so why not become one? Becoming a role model for future generations of latina women in the vast world of classical music, can help bring enthusiasm about indulging themselves in the arts. I visualize myself as an educator encouraging the younger generations of latino children in music.

I reminded myself that within hours it’d all be over- for better or worse. Within hours I’d either be in or out. This thought was supposed to be reassuring, but all it did was make me more nervous. It resurfaced the idea of rejection, a feeling that, even though I was familiar with it, never got easier. I wanted to be a Chamber Singer- I wanted to be accepted- so badly! I wanted to wear the long black dress, sway back and forth, sing like an angel, be top dog. And

A huge part of my life is performing music and comes from my creative personality. I am applying for a music degree as my career plan long term is to work in music. My interest in music began when I started playing cornet in my local Youth Brass Band at age 7 and have worked myself up from 3rd cornet to principle cornet player, where I lead my section developing my teamwork and leadership skills. I found this really enjoyable and took up my secondary instrument, piano, 3 years later. I would be suitable for this course as I am extremely motivated and reliable.

It's weird to think there's all this history littering every surface of this town that seems as much as me as the skin on my back does, but none of it is visible to anyone that hasn’t lived here day one. Being this intertwined in the rest of anyone's life can be too suffocating; everyone knows the story of how I used to pretend to not know how to swim in the lake until I was around thirteen because I wanted an excuse to be near the pretty lifeguard with the long legs or about the time that I ran over the Johnsons mailbox at the beginning of junior year when I wasn’t paying enough attention backing out of a