A persuasive and inspiring essay for successful admission to Harvard - 2025

Beyond Stereotypes: How have you challenged or defied a stereotype associated with one of your identities?

Redefining Expectations Through Passion and Persistence

“I didn’t expect someone like you to be interested in astrophysics.” The comment hung in the air, as casual as a stray leaf drifting to the ground, but it felt heavier. I wasn’t offended, not exactly. It was more an echo of something I’d already been battling for years—a stereotype that had settled like a quiet fog over my ambitions. I’m not sure why, but assumptions about what someone “like me” should be interested in—or capable of—had always followed me, uninvited.

Growing up in a tight-knit community in Ukraine, where tradition and practicality often dictated aspirations, I was expected to follow a well-trodden path. But I was always drawn to the cosmos, to the dazzling complexity of stars and the quiet hum of the unknown. I remember lying on my back in the garden as a child, squinting at the night sky, convinced that the stars whispered secrets if only I listened closely enough.

Pursuing astrophysics as a young woman from a rural background often felt like navigating a universe of unspoken rules. In high school, when I announced my plan to apply to an international astronomy competition, a teacher gently suggested I focus on something “more attainable.” It wasn’t unkind, but the undertone was unmistakable: you’re dreaming too big.

Yet, I persisted, not because I wanted to defy anyone in particular but because the pull of the universe was greater than the gravity of others’ doubts. In practice, this looked like devouring textbooks well past midnight, scouring online forums for mentorship opportunities, and, once, converting an old barn into a makeshift observatory with borrowed equipment. (To this day, I’m grateful for my father’s patience when I requisitioned his old tractor battery to power my telescope.)

Despite my efforts, the stereotype clung to me. At my first major research conference, I was asked twice if I was there to assist someone else—never if I was the researcher. Another attendee, well-meaning but oblivious, said, “You must be very determined to be in a field like this.” I understand how this sounds. But comments like that frustrate me, not because they’re intended as insults, but because they reveal how narrow our expectations for certain identities can be.

For a while, I wasn’t sure how to respond. Should I explain my credentials? Dismiss the comments? Ignore them altogether? Eventually, I decided the best way to challenge these perceptions was simply to excel. I began presenting my work on galactic rotation curves with a confidence that belied my nervousness. Over time, people stopped asking if I was “just visiting” and started asking about my methods.

One of the turning points came during my final year of high school, when I was invited to speak at a regional science symposium. I spoke about my project analyzing data from the Sloan Digital Sky Survey, layering my talk with stories about how I’d gathered my data and the challenges I’d faced in learning to code. By the end of the presentation, a few audience members approached me, not to question my belonging but to ask how they could get involved in similar projects.

This shift—where I was seen not as an exception but as an example—felt revolutionary. It wasn’t just about me anymore; it was about redefining what “someone like me” could do.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that stereotypes are like shadows: persistent but not immutable. They exist because we allow them to linger, but they fade when we shine light on them.

For me, that light has been a blend of curiosity, stubbornness, and the occasional leap of faith. Today, as I prepare to enter college, I think about the next stereotype I’ll face and the stories I’ll collect as I continue to challenge expectations.

I know my path isn’t typical, and that’s the point. Stereotypes may persist, but so does the infinite potential of the universe—and the people willing to explore it.

If Harvard can see the stars in my story, I’d be honored to bring that same light to your campus. After all, some of the most transformative discoveries happen when we look beyond the obvious, whether in the cosmos or within ourselves.