客服电话：400-609-1118美国纽约时报年度精选!什么才是优秀的文书
美国《纽约时报》每年都会发布青少年关于“金钱、工作、社会阶层”等相关话题的大学申请文书。这些文书代表了大学招生官所寻求录取的学生的重要品质或特性，有非常高的参考价值。美国留学文书
原文
I stepped out of the bank,my eyes tracking the silver-and copper-colored specks shimmering beneath the water of the fountain.
Reaching into my pocket,I watched a man fling a coin in anticipation of his wish coming true.I slid my fingers along the edges of my quarters,contemplating throwing one in myself.However,I couldn’t toss away a potential winning lottery ticket that easily.I grasped the rolls of coins just tightly enough to leave slight imprints in my palm and headed for my car.
Once home,I commenced the familiar sorting process I performed with all the coins in my collection.I cracked open the rolls of quarters on my desk,inspecting the sides to see if any coins had silver cores.The tangy scent of copper swirled around my room as I separated the coins by date,looking online for possible prices and potential error coins—coins with manufacturing flaws.
My eyes lit up.I’d found one:A 2005-P Minnesota quarter with a reverse double die,a duplication of design elements on the back.
I quickly positioned the coin into a small case,scribbled an estimated$60 value and carefully piled it in my wooden drawer with the other rare coins.Although it was just a bargain-basement case,it was far superior to the makeshift ripped paper and tape“cases”I had been using as a new collector.
I reached into the back of my drawer and picked up a 1981 Australian 20-cent piece,one of my first-ever foreign coins,and also my favorite.I turned to the reverse.Having lived in the United States all my life,it always fascinated me to see a platypus rather than the freedom bird staring back at me.
I spun the coin between my fingers while looking through the other quarters.It invariably reminded me that I was never this prudent with my money before;my coin collection was more of a monthly holiday,rather than a facet of everyday life.
My original connection with coins arose from my grandmother’s many trips around the world.When she had come back from South Africa,she let me check out some coins and bills from the bottom of her purse.However,when I peered inside and saw one remaining coin that was the most vibrant gold color,my 8-year-old mind couldn’t help but want to entertain myself with it.
The coin in question:An early 1960s 2 Rand,valued at well over$300.It felt like a small-scale quarter but had far more pronounced ridges along the edges and was significantly heavier.
I remember holding it in the palm of my hand;the peculiar heft felt as if it was going to push my arm down.It had a stunning image of an antelope on the reverse that apparently made me think it was actually an antelope.
I made the ingenious decision to have the“antelope”gallop on a railing over the steep embankments of Riverside Park.This was my very first experience blowing$300 in a day,and I didn’t realize until years later what I’d lost.
After the antelope incident,I made sure to keep the rest of my coins safe and secure,leading to the development of my attentive sorting routine.I scanned all the remaining coins and double-checked to make sure I hadn’t left any treasures behind,then scraped together the quarters and placed them back into rolls.I headed back to the bank to trade in the quarters for pennies so I could once again attempt to bolster my collection.
On the way out,I again saw multiple people tossing change into the fountain.But the smiles on their faces quickly turned to frowns,for I took off my shoes and,not wanting to let wishes go to waste,rolled up my pants and hopped in with a bucket.
文章点评
这篇文章的开头与之前的风格不同，但却具有很强的可读性。
文章以“硬币收集”为主题，从一个日常小物入手介绍了作者自己。始终围绕着这个主题，作者按照清晰的时间顺序展开，使结构清晰，行文连贯。
其中，文章有一个非常独特的转折点，即作者描述了小时候不慎丢失一枚珍贵硬币的经历。这一段落不仅描绘了作者从童年的粗心到成年的细致入微的成长过程，还展现了他的成熟世界观。例如，通过“一个人所失去的，可能成为另一个人的珍宝”等深刻思考，作者展示了自己能够从多个角度审视同一事物的成熟品质。
美国纽约时报年度精选!什么才是优秀的文书
原文
Through the morning haze of dust particles,car exhaust and visible heat waves,my mind races faster than my motorbike’s 30 kilometers per hour.A world filled with incomprehensible,outdoor merchant hollers and a window pane delivery man on a motorbike tempts the curious and analytical.
As my mind races with curiosity,I am challenged as a driver.Another motorbike’s sudden swerve or a cloth thought to be roadkill makes me jerk for my handlebar brakes.Although keen,my senses are not supernatural;nothing can account for the lawless roads of Phnom Penh.
My daily drive to school is anything but monotonous.Our starting node is dropped in a gated community.Kickstand up,ignition growling and helmet firmly on,the world is new again.Amongst the houses passed,a pattern emerges of villa,Lexus and renovation—a gold spray-painted gate or a large green overshade—giving me a peek into the homeowner’s head.Although the thought of finding rushes of neural activity in their actual brain sounds endlessly exciting,I am content with deducing their aesthetic values—for now.
Before bidding the neighborhood guards farewell,I stop very carefully for the woman driving a Rolls-Royce with an infant in front while a woman pulling a tin wagon of brooms and foliage pulls up behind me.Questions of luxury car shipping,infant safety and wagon construction are trumped by the irony and tragedy of the gap I create between them.
I join the hubbub of commuters spreading like liquid particles filling in every ounce of empty space.I reject an opening to swerve through two large cars,but apparently,my depth perception fails me as another driver seizes the opportunity.
My recent failure to calculate time and acceleration fades,as I ponder humanity’s natural acclimation of skills.I take the first and second virtues of volleyball,aggressiveness and communication,to heart after my failure.A traffic light’s contradictory instructions open the traffic floodgates,but I make it through with deliberation.Every yellow light run and sidewalk driven on drops me into a thought experiment on human nature.Although for me,questions of habit,the inorganic nature of driving and social pressure rise before the innate chaos and evil of the human soul.
Signage in Khmer,English,Chinese and Korean becomes as legible as my abilities allow as my motorbike comes to a halt.A truck filled to the brim with factory workers blocks my path.The intersection’s green light flashes,and the truck continues straight,just missing the turn to the brand-new H&M in the country.It is a wonder that they didn’t make one earlier,considering how cheap the transportation fees would be.
Seeing the manifestation of global issues makes me realize that I will always appreciate Model U.N.for the large-scale awareness,but I could have never felt the weight and burdens of the world without everyday life.Ingrained systems built on poor foundations cannot be easily rebuilt.With little things like not running yellow lights or connecting impactful NGOs with students that want to help,I can try to help support a new foundation.
Through the outdoor market,past the conglomerate’s mall and turning to face a neon construction sign road,I am finally on the road leading to my school.The concept of sequent occupance has always stuck with me.From the broad effects of genocide to the more minute classification of“charred animal on spit,”everything is an amalgamation of its past and present.
The chaos,injustice and joy of the roads of Phnom Penh have fundamentally made me who I am,and I will only continue to grow as I leave them.As I pull into the parking lot,I know that my education has started far before the bell has rung.
文章点评
这篇文章以作者骑摩托车上学途中的所见、所思和感悟为主线，带领读者穿梭于充满烟火气息的街头场景。从街头商贩、汽车尾气到晨雾中的灰尘颗粒，作者的镜头让我们身临其境。
尽管这些场景是日常生活中的常见画面，但作者却能以微观视角触发深刻的思考。她巧妙地将对贫富差距、全球化带来的机遇与挑战等议题融入这些琐碎的生活片段中，展现了她对自我成长和社会认知的深刻思考。美国留学申请材料
原文
There it is.The little mutant,who is supposed to be immortal,lies still,right beneath our noses.
The sun pulsates down on our backs as midday approaches on a scalding day in San Diego.The cockroach lies still,sprawled across the floor with one of its six legs pointed in each direction.An assemblage has emerged around the dead invertebrate,as our posse quarrels about what we could do with this prospect.
“Bet you won’t eat that cockroach right now,”challenges one person.
“Ten bucks says I will!”I shout confidently.
The small crowd grows into a state of silence,as heads begin to turn toward the instigator,then back to me,anticipating a standoff.
I have always been the“Money Man,”so being offered to eat a cockroach,or any other similar requests,in exchange for monetary value was a common occurrence.I cannot explain why$10 entices me to conquer obscure feats.I have had a fortunate childhood where my earned dollars would typically buy a Snickers bar for my enjoyment.
From a young age,I had to learn to live without a father figure.Our trips to Mission Bay Park were always cut short when his next rotation came,leaving me to teach myself how important a spiral was when throwing a football.
As a child,I quickly learned not everyone lived a life like mine.Growing up,due to my father’s job,we lived overseas,providing me firsthand lessons in the value of money.I have witnessed poverty at its worst.Living abroad opened my eyes to the sheer number of people who would consume a cockroach for an American$10 bill.
I watched children who were 5-years-old in China doing backbreaking work for their families,just to make ends meet.Or beggars lining the streets of Egypt as their prestigious neighbors parted the road in their gold-plated G-wagons,spending millions on parties and feasts rather than helping their predecessors.Or my own family members in Mexico,who begged us to bring back clean water jugs and books for them and their children.
I may be privileged,but I have seen every nook and cranny of what it takes to make it in life.So,when the opportunity comes to make an extra dollar,I understand its value and embrace it.
Maybe I am money-driven,because it is my everlasting belief that I have every reason to make it in life.I have witnessed people come from immense poverty.So,I have no excuse to not make it,because people around the globe,who have so much less than me,still manage to hustle their way to the top.Maybe it is the belief that if I learned the value of a dollar at an early age,I would be able to help my many family members struggling on the other side of the border.
Maybe that is why I took a job in construction,not because I needed the money,but because I understood its importance.
I hope attending college,something most of my family couldn’t do,will allow me to both help provide for them financially and be present in their lives.My family taught me the importance of a dollar,no matter what,even if I had to become“Cockroach Guy.”My value of money and understanding of its global meaning will hopefully help me succeed in the classroom and beyond.
文章点评
这篇文章以作者接受挑战吃蟑螂的经历为引子，通过一个富有创意的故事快速吸引了招生官的眼球，引发了他们的阅读兴趣。
整篇文书述说了作者在国外生活中目睹贫穷和不公，意识到对于许多人来说，10美元已经是一笔不小的财富。这些经历让他深刻理解了生活的不易。
同时，作者也展示了自己如何通过理解金钱的价值来支持家庭，并希望通过上大学进一步帮助他们。这些经历和反思表明了他对金钱、家庭和全球不平等的深刻认识，以及他如何将这些认识应用到自己的生活中。这种真实的描写使得作者看上去更加有血有肉，更加真实可信。
此外，作者审视了自己相对特权的地位，以及这种特权如何塑造了自己的世界观。这样的思考深度在大学申请阶段显得非常成熟。作者对父亲的叙述以及个人经历的分享，也展现了他作为一个真实、有血有肉的人，符合招生官期望看到的品质。
