Connor’s UChicago supplement essay is quietly powerful, emotionally layered, and beautifully on-theme. It uses a seemingly mundane object—a pin collection—to create a compelling metaphor for memory, legacy, and identity. “I wrote a letter to a pin collection I have.” The pins belonged to his grandfather—small artifacts with big stories, gathered from travels, people, and experiences over a lifetime. When his grandfather passed, the collection was passed to Connor. He didn’t just hold onto it. He added to it. And when it came time to apply to UChicago, the pins gave him a frame for reflection: “In the latter years of his life, [my grandfather] started a pin collection. He would collect pins from travels, from people he met—pins that carried some special meaning to them.” This essay starts not with Connor, but with someone who shaped him. That humility—starting with a gift, not an accomplishment—pulls the reader in. It gives the essay a beating heart. Readers understand immediately: this isn’t about pins. It’s about who gave them meaning, moments that mattered, values passed down, a worldview shaped by curiosity, connection, and memory. “The pin collection is a pseudo-looking-glass into my life experiences.” That one sentence is everything UChicago looks for in its supplements: creativity, metaphor, and meaning. Not just a résumé dump—but a window into how the applicant sees the world. “You can really imagine and picture it in your head—I think that’s what makes it strong.” Connor includes vivid, memorable details: The “I ❤️ Barry” pin The Phantom Ranch pin, only earned by completing a 5-hour mule trip The Head of the Charles pin after 6 years of rowing A pin from a shaved-head cancer fundraiser A Kennedy Space Center pin from a school trip They’re moments chosen with care, which show the range of his personality—athletic, altruistic, nostalgic, curious. Connor’s essay was a beautifully subtle gallery of the different facets of his personality. And like any good pin, it stuck.

UChicago’s Mission Statement: "Let knowledge grow from more and more; and so be human life enriched." Connor didn’t just embody that mission—he cooked it, plated it, broke it down with a cleaver, and sold it to a dinner crowd. He was able to position himself as a unqiue fusion of food, finance, and innovation, and demonstrated his ability to draw connections across his varied discipines. And he pursued each with the kind of ferocity that doesn’t need decoration.

That interdisciplinary spark—that blend of knife skills and spreadsheets—is exactly what UChicago looks for. And Connor did more than just check those boxes.

Connor didn’t follow any standard script. He chased down a chef through cycling classes. He gave a TED Talk in high school. He interned in finance and broke down whole hogs at a butcher shop—all while competing in entrepreneurship pitch competitions and writing his college essay about a 16-hour dinner service on New Year’s Eve. Admissions officers, reading thousands of essays, are starving for someone who lives off-script. Connor’s charisma, courage, and contradictions made him a “personality admit”—the kind of applicant who clearly will add color and spice to campus and strive do something extraordinary with their education.

Connor’s mastery of a niche—fine dining kitchens—made his application uniquely memorable. Not only did he start working professionally at 15, but he worked his way up under a demanding chef and stuck with it for years. His TED Talk and business competitions reinforced his domain expertise and entrepreneurial thinking, but the anchor was clear: food, work ethic, and obsession with learning by doing.

That’s the kind of grit colleges crave—and the kind that fills a very specific and undeniably interesting seat.

Connor wouldn't let anything get in the way of his dream. He made his own luck by going to the same cycling class as his favorite chef until their paths crossed. This wasn’t cold emailing. This was literal cold calling, with a bike and unrelenting drive.

He proved himself early on as a go-getter. Rather than waiting for opportunities to come to him, he took initiative in achieving outside the classroom in a way that he was passionate about. Colleges want people to take advantages of the opportunities they have to offer, and students like Connor are green flags for engagement and achievement.

It's clear through Connor's experience both in and entering the elite culinary world, he'd gained wisdom applicable to every field he could go into. One such kernel of wisdom was about the nature of hiring and connections. It’s a pragmatic truth about the real world—some doors require networks. And if you don’t have them, you’ll need to be creative and relentless, like Connor was.

Connor reframes time as opportunity—and urges others to treat it like it matters. He stands as a testament to using high school as more than a waiting period.

Connor was able to demonstrate a core trait of work ethic through storytelling, but in a way that didn't shove his accomplishments in your face either.

UChicago doesn’t want students who just fit in. It wants students who will contribute—to class discussion, to lab culture, to community tradition. Connor’s energy makes it clear he wants to continue to experiment and achieve. He brought his public speaking background from national entrepreneurship competitions. He brought a service-industry humility you can’t fake. And he brought a TED Talk, written in high school, delivered before he was old enough to vote.

Connor didn't let his hard work in the culinary world make him one-note either. He also came ready to apply his interest in economics and statistics to real-world challenges. From breaking down financial statements to breaking down meat, he was always in motion. Always connecting the abstract to the concrete.

Connor didn't focus on being perfect on paper. But he was unforgettable in who he was and how he wrote. Vocational Passion – Whether in a kitchen or a conference room, Connor didn’t dabble. He dove in. Unorthodox Drive – His methods were unconventional—but always strategic, always authentic. Intellectual Curiosity – From TED Talks to startup pitches, he proved his hunger wasn’t just literal—it was academic.

What advice would you give prospective students?

Connor didn’t win the admissions game by outscoring others. He won it by outworking, out-hustling, and out-living the average application. And for anyone wondering if their path is “too weird,” “too busy,” or “too real” for elite schools? Connor is proof that they don’t just accept stories like his, they remember them.