法学院申请传言之一就是多样化文书（Diversity essay）是必须写的。但真的是这样吗？可选性的文书为何在大家口中变得如此重要？多样化文书真的是你的“must to do list”吗？小编今天就来深度解析，带大家看看到底什么是Diversity Essay，最后再为大家附上范文，供大家参考。
多样化到底指的是什么
多样化（Diversity）的定义是非常广泛的，我们常说的多样化会指：种族（race），民族（ethnicity），国家地区（national region），文化（culture），比如说来自曾经或现在历史上被排除、边缘化、被压迫的，以及并不被代表的群体或成长环境。举一个简单一点的例子：咱们国家56个民族，除去汉族，其他少数民族在高考中会有不同程度的加分政策。
但多样性并不仅限于此。那些处于社会经济的劣势，第一代大学生，宗教信仰，性别取向，残疾，等等，都可以算作是多样性。这些也都是潜在的多样化文书的话题。那么除去这些，生活的经验也可以算作多样化，比如说不同寻常的成长经历，克服逆境，或者经历了严重的、改变生活的皆可。就算我们列举这么多，这也不是一个详尽的列表。用一句话来总结， 多样化取决于每个人的切入角度。
多样化文书的目的
首先，你是一个有超过20年生活经历的人。无论怎么样简短，你都无法在短短一封personal statement里，表达清楚你怎么样的一个人。但法学院招生官也想更加了解申请者，他们会想象你在法学院中会做什么？在你未来的职业生涯中，你会成为怎么样的一个法律从业者。这个时候，多样化文书就会提供这样的机会让法学院可以多了解你。但是需要注意的是，这并不意味着你交了多样化文书就一定会有加分的作用。不好的多样化文书反而是画蛇添足，弄巧成拙。小编接下来就给大家举例一些不太适合作为多样化文书的例子。
有些多样化文书就是画蛇添足
总体来说，不要认为一个你人生中暂时的不如意就是你人生的困境。比如说，在贫困中成长和家庭暂时性的经济不富裕，这两者就是非常不一样的情况。前者是对一个人的性格有着长远且深刻的影响，后者就只是暂时性的情况。虽然困境是一个非常具有说服力的话题，但这仅仅是在真的与众不同的基础上，而且这个困境能够展现你和别人不一样的角度。在小编见过的真实例子中，因为父母的工作变动，在生日的时候只得到了一辆二手车，而不是新车；作为一个左撇子，读经济学科，有着包容的视野，等等 – 你可以说这些对你来说是你的多样性表现，但是如果选用这些不具备significance的话题，恐怕只能让你的法学院录取更加艰难了。
多样化文书的注意点
上面的文章中，我们提到了好的多样化文书会展现申请者更多的特点，为你的申请锦上添花。如果你确定要交这份文书的话，那么也有不少地方是你必须注意的。首先，请务必要仔细阅读每个学校的提示，具体从话题到字数，很多学校都分别有各自的提示或者显示。其次，你的多样化文书要关注在你自己身上，你的性格，你的经历和你的成就。不要花篇幅在比较你和其他的申请者，因为你并没有任何关于其他申请者的信息。最后的最后，还是要记住多样化文书是可选的，如果你真的绞尽脑汁想不出来，也许你并不需要多样化文书，那也不用勉强提交一份没有意义的文书。
对于我们很多的申请者来说，国际生就已经是代表了多样化，但并不意味着这就是你的与众不同的地方。跟你的申请顾问老师一起，仔细回忆你的生活，过往和成就，才能发掘出属于你自己的独一无二的多样化，继而帮助你拿下法学院的录取offer。那么，你会选择写多样化文书吗？你又会选择什么话题呢 ？下面来看威斯康辛麦迪逊分校申请Diversity essay范文：
Value of Diversity
A range of academic interests, personal perspectives, and life experiences adds much to the educational mix. Given your personal background, describe an experience that illustrates what you would bring to the diversity in a college community, or an encounter that demonstrated the importance of diversity to you.
There simply was no solution. With tears of frustration in my eyes I went through the options for the hundredth time. I had come face to face with one of life’s many brutal truths: no one can build a sand-castle by herself. About to give up in despair, I spied something that made my heart leap. There, between the little red slide and the big-kid swings, sat another five-year old girl. It did not matter that as a native of the country I was visiting, she only spoke German.
All too soon we were casting long shadows in the fading sunlight, and I had to say goodbye to my architectural partner. I knew nothing but her name, which I have long since forgotten. After all, this was simply one of many such encounters.
By the time I realized how lucky I was to do so, I had traveled to most of Europe and some of Asia. My father’s job dragged our family from country to country. We lived for a few months in Israel one year, a few months in Switzerland the next. If I were to go back to any one of the many countries to which I have traveled, I would naturally be drawn to the famous monuments, historic landmarks, and local museums. But the memories of my international playmates are some of the most valuable souvenirs I could bring home from my travels. With their help, I learned to both respect and appreciate others’ differences.
At times this respect came with difficulty, particularly when the culture in question clashed with my own. When I was twelve my father was invited to teach a class in South Korea, and so off we went. One day we visited a small art museum, where we met the only curator, a small, hospitable woman who spoke no English. I responded politely when she welcomed us to the museum, and then not quite so politely when she started running her hands through my long, curly hair. I stood rooted to the spot by shock and horror as she neatly braided my hair. After a few minutes I was released, and with a great sigh of relief I set off to explore. I had hardly reached the door when, to my dismay, the hair-braider returned – brandishing a comb. Gathering my dignity, I suffered her ministrations. The result was a breathtaking French braid, shaming me for resenting the curator’s lack of respect for my personal space. Never again did I hold other cultures to my own standards.
In Belize, I saw that other cultures have different economic as well as personal standards. My family and I stayed in the small village of Armenia, a town built for refugees from the surrounding countries of Guatemala, Honduras, and El Salvador. Most residents made their living as hired hands at the local grapefruit orchards or selling handmade souvenirs to the tourists. The wealthier townspeople owned horses for transportation or pack animals, but most simply walked.
At first I pitied the locals for their poverty. As I spent more time with them, I began to see that they did not consider themselves poor, nor lament their lack of luxury. The concept of wealth meant something completely different in Armenia, something that had less to do with possessions and more to do with family. While I appreciate the comfort in which I live, the Armenians make me thankful for the little things in life, the beautiful days and loyal friends that no amount of money could replace.
To this day I value diversity. Many of my friends speak imperfect English; for most it is their second language. Few are citizens of the United States. As I make the transition from high school to college, I hope to meet students from a variety of different cultures and backgrounds with whom I can share my unique experiences. Though I have traveled in four continents and met people of numerous cultures, I have not yet been to college, and sometimes the thought makes me apprehensive. That said, I know that if I approach my college years with the same open-minded curiosity I learned from my family’s wanderings, I will be amazed.