Dear Scholarship Committee,
There are many reasons why I deserve a scholarship to study at this prestigious institution. I have decent grades, a nice range of extra-curriculars, and I am really good during networking cocktail parties with your donors1. To be fair, I do not know how well this will set me apart from other candidates, so I will stop trying to write a cover letter and instead go about this application in a need-based vein.
You should give me a scholarship because at this point in time, I need one. I have just been discharged from the hospital after a 4-day stay, slightly anaemic, dizzy in the head, and completely behind on all my work. I have been… not quite right for the past month — some undiagnosed female issue to do with hormones or endometriums that no doctor seems to take as seriously as I do. I’ve had intense pains and some other grossness I will not write about here2, so my schoolwork, gym sessions, and cocktail party-schoomzing have all taken a hit. I haven’t forgotten about your scholarship however, because I really need the win right about now.
It doesn’t seem like I can rejoin the land of the living any time soon. I am jealous of anyone who can have a beer without having intense stomach pains, go for a run without feeling light-headed, or stay awake past 10pm. I no longer dominate after-work-drinks and Friday night party routine. I have spent most of the recent money I have earned on doctors, ultrasounds, and health supplements, but at least I am no longer paying for fancy cocktails and expensive meals3. And while the doctors have shrugged me away, all the other advice I have received seem to be versions of “take care of your body!” This is baffling — I haven’t had a drink in over a month, I sleep more than 10 hours every night and eat all balanced meals. I do not consume anything oily, spicy, or icy. I drink plenty of warm water and herbal teas and use a hot water bottle (instead of take painkillers) to keep the cramps at bay4. But I can study, I promise. I can sit at a desk (or if need be, propped up in a hospital bed) with my laptop, working on some intense piece of historical research.
I could give you an argument that addresses the intersectionality of my status as a minority — I could make something up about being a female ethnic minority who had to, at some point, learn English from scratch5. The truth is that I have never felt discriminated against because of my sex or my race. However, I know first-hand what it’s like to feel alone, helpless, and scoffed at in a city of 7 million. Friends who, inadvertently rubbing it in, send “are you out tonight?” texts at 2am. A man-friend who disappeared once the sex was put on hiatus. Doctors you can’t help but cry in front of, not because you are trying to use your feminine wiles for better treatment, but because you are frustrated that they do not seem to care.
And then, a half-finished thesis and a bunch of applications that stare at you, sending the subliminal reminder that if you fail this, you will have nothing, not even your once-dependable health.
When the media discusses whether women can have it all, it comes down to three main things — career, family, and active social life. Health never seems to come into the equation, and generally with good reason. We are living in 2015! There’s medicines and cures for pretty much everything! Eat organic and practice mindfulness and you’ll live to be 100! If I had been suffering from a broken bone, I would have been given time off work. If I had contracted an STI, a course of antibiotics would do the trick. Instead, my first two visits to the emergency room were met with sneers and nary a doctor certificate. My undiagnosed gynaecological dysfunction left doctors dismissive, my uterus in pain, and me uncomfortable and embarrassed to talk about it. Writing a short email to a supervisor asking to be excused from a meeting became a nail-biting affair, with no sick note nor visible symptoms to prove my distress. Explaining my inability to drink at an alumni social left me exhausted and finally pretending to sip from a glass of wine.
This scholarship would at least enable me to achieve some kind of self-pride, and empower me to redirect a conversation with coworkers from blood tests to, finally, a piece of good news. I want to earn this scholarship because I need to regain control over my life. I want this scholarship because I want to feel like I’m being accepted into something bigger and more important. Most importantly, I need validation that I’m not going crazy — that whatever is happening to my body will pass and leave no lasting damage, and that it’s ok to feel right now that my work, which I love, is the only thing that matters.
“Undiagnosed gynaecological dysfunction” needn’t define my life right now, and nor should I let it6. I would be honoured, instead, to call myself a scholarship recipient.
I look forward to hearing from you soon.
1. I can small talk about anything from the The Matrix to The Republic, from hashtags to the value of hashtag activism, from Isis the dog in Downton Abbey to ISIS in the Middle East. Just try me!
2. I understand appropriateness, how to change the tone of my words for different situations, and how to channel respect for my readers. I’m really mature, I promise.
3. This shows, dear scholarship committee, that I can be responsible with the money that you give me! I’m also too unwell to go stumbling around drinking in the middle of the week — pick me, and you’ll be guaranteed one candidate who does not embarrass.
4. I lead a very wholesome lifestyle, and I listen to my elders. While I trust western medicine (and science!) wholeheartedly, I embrace the colourful background of my eastern community, and take its beliefs and values to heart. Supported by your scholarship, I hope to continue my investigation into how east and west can grow together, harmoniously.
5. But because I learned English from scratch, I learned it the right way! Grammar doesn’t phase (or “phrase!”) me; neither do semi-colons. I have submitted a writing sample for your review — I hope it demonstrates my strength as a communicator.
6. I am an advocate for clear, specific writing that helps my readers understand exactly what I am talking about. This term does not meet my standards, and I would like you to know this.