Hey all!
I wrote this essay for Hackbright last Spring when I was applying for the Hackbright Summer 2014 Fellowship. I'm including it here because it's related to that pesky life goal of mine to live in my carpartment, and I've now actually started putting these skills to use (more on that later).
The writing prompt is expecially open-ended, giving no restrictions for length, format, or even content (really), so this piece was perhaps the most troublesome part of my application. It polarized the group of folks I asked to edit my application--my stepdad, for instance, said that it made me seem unintelligent and flippant, while others (like my friends already working in tech companies in the bay) said that it communicated my personality and sense of humor, and was their favorite part of my application.
When I arrived at HB, many peers said that they had written on more tech-related topics, so this approach seemed to be different than the norm, but seemingly didn't hinder my application from moving forward.
Here's the essay and prompt:
Share in detail about a particular piece of expertise that you have. You can write about something that is educational, professional, or recreational.
In Bishop, California, the best season for rock climbing is from fall to early spring. Cold temperatures are really the best for friction between climber paws and the chunky, less-than-friendly quartz monzonite that makes up a big portion of the rock there. This fact, coupled with the good news that Bishop doesn't get a whole lot of precipitation, makes the Eastern Sierra a cold, dry climbing paradise. One winter season, I spent every weekend in Bishop. I was in school full-time, so I had to find a way to climb during the short daylight hours, stay up late doing homework (in below freezing temperatures often combined with wind), and still get in some quality dream time. I had to get real friendly-like with winter camping, so a tent simply wouldn’t do. I developed a campion (car camping champion) level of cheap-but-classy car-partment development expertise, so the following is step one toward your very own highly glamorous, only slightly sweaty, car camping adventure.
First, you should preferably own a car with a space large enough to lay down in. It’s double-plus-good if you can sit upright in your rig, or else you’ll be funking out your back, neck, or your eight-pack while trying to read, write, watch, type, knit, etc. Remember: the sun sets in Bishop in winter as early as 4pm. That’s a lotta hours of back funk before sleep. No bueno! For the purposes of this instruction guide, you should probably buy a 2009 red Subaru Forester. Once you have your wheels, measure the dimensions in your sleep area. In my ride, the height of the cargo area from the floor to the roof is 32”. The width is 45.5” between wheel wells. The approximate length is 70” or 5’8”. Lucky for me, I’m only 5’6”, so this is not a problem. For 6’ dudes or ladies, I hope you’re fetal position sleepers!
Next, go to your local fabric or craft store and buy a sheet of 2”, high density, open-cell foam. Sheets come in varying sizes, but unless you want to order online and pay shipping, you’ll likely have to buy by the sheet or by the yard. If it’s not high density, you’ll have a princess and the pea problem. If it’s closed-cell, it’ll be too firm (think gym floor; not great for sleeping on). You could go thicker, but the price increases dramatically with each added inch. This is your one big purchase and you can expect to pay anywhere from $100 - $200. Everything else can be done on the the cheap, but this is the difference between a good night’s sleep and an evening of mini-naps and cell phone video games.
So once you’ve got your sheet of foam, go to your grandma’s house and borrow her electric carving knife, or use a big serrated bread knife. Use the measurements of your sleep area and a sharpie to cut your foam sheet to size. Cut it by holding one side and sawing back and forth (or let the electric knife do the work--it works like a dream. Thanks, Grandma!). I did this on my floor since foam is squirrely on saw horses, but note: foam bits get everywhere, so floor that’s sweep-able is ideal. Don’t worry too much about making the edges pretty; your next step is to make a large pillowcase-type cover for it since foam has that weird chemical smell. I prefer the rectangular shape of pad for ease of use, but if you want an hourglass shaped mattress, go for it! Who doesn’t like complicated sewing patterns?
Because I use a sleeping bag on top of my foam mattress, I went to a thrift store and bought two felt-y blankets for a couple of dollars. If that freaks you out, use some old sheets or buy new fabric. Next, sew the sheets together with a sewing machine. Remember: to make sure your foam case will fit, measure your sheets to the same dimensions as your foam pad, then add an extra two inches, and sew the seam 1” in from the outermost edge, with a little extra room for non-stretchy fabrics. I sewed mine like a pillowcase, with seams on three sides, but feel free to upgrade to a zipper or buttons on your fourth side. I won’t go into the angering subtleties of understanding the thread tension on a sewing machine here. If you need help, ask grandma / a friend / the internet. Once you’ve sewn your case, put it on your foam pad, and you are done!
This completes step one! You are 33.3333% closer to one cush car-partment. Tune in to the next Allyson Stronach Hackbright application for even more car-partment fun! Preview: step two is making a desk that can hold your laptop, books, water, Funyuns, etc., and that hovers over your bed in just the right place and at just the right height. Step three is making curtains that somehow adhere to the walls/windows of your car. Step four is actually step one to a separate guide: the car-partment kitchen(!), and steps beyond that are purely pimp-out-my-ride related: things like bed-to-chair conversions, slipper holders, lighting options, shelving, the speaker situation for movie nights, etc. But don’t fear! If you want more info, the Allyson Stronach Hackbright application(s) to follow can surely be converted to friendly weekend car-partment assessment conversations over coffee and bagels in, oh, say, San Francisco this summer.
I wrote this essay for Hackbright last Spring when I was applying for the Hackbright Summer 2014 Fellowship. I'm including it here because it's related to that pesky life goal of mine to live in my carpartment, and I've now actually started putting these skills to use (more on that later).
The writing prompt is expecially open-ended, giving no restrictions for length, format, or even content (really), so this piece was perhaps the most troublesome part of my application. It polarized the group of folks I asked to edit my application--my stepdad, for instance, said that it made me seem unintelligent and flippant, while others (like my friends already working in tech companies in the bay) said that it communicated my personality and sense of humor, and was their favorite part of my application.
When I arrived at HB, many peers said that they had written on more tech-related topics, so this approach seemed to be different than the norm, but seemingly didn't hinder my application from moving forward.
Here's the essay and prompt:
Share in detail about a particular piece of expertise that you have. You can write about something that is educational, professional, or recreational.
In Bishop, California, the best season for rock climbing is from fall to early spring. Cold temperatures are really the best for friction between climber paws and the chunky, less-than-friendly quartz monzonite that makes up a big portion of the rock there. This fact, coupled with the good news that Bishop doesn't get a whole lot of precipitation, makes the Eastern Sierra a cold, dry climbing paradise. One winter season, I spent every weekend in Bishop. I was in school full-time, so I had to find a way to climb during the short daylight hours, stay up late doing homework (in below freezing temperatures often combined with wind), and still get in some quality dream time. I had to get real friendly-like with winter camping, so a tent simply wouldn’t do. I developed a campion (car camping champion) level of cheap-but-classy car-partment development expertise, so the following is step one toward your very own highly glamorous, only slightly sweaty, car camping adventure.
First, you should preferably own a car with a space large enough to lay down in. It’s double-plus-good if you can sit upright in your rig, or else you’ll be funking out your back, neck, or your eight-pack while trying to read, write, watch, type, knit, etc. Remember: the sun sets in Bishop in winter as early as 4pm. That’s a lotta hours of back funk before sleep. No bueno! For the purposes of this instruction guide, you should probably buy a 2009 red Subaru Forester. Once you have your wheels, measure the dimensions in your sleep area. In my ride, the height of the cargo area from the floor to the roof is 32”. The width is 45.5” between wheel wells. The approximate length is 70” or 5’8”. Lucky for me, I’m only 5’6”, so this is not a problem. For 6’ dudes or ladies, I hope you’re fetal position sleepers!
Next, go to your local fabric or craft store and buy a sheet of 2”, high density, open-cell foam. Sheets come in varying sizes, but unless you want to order online and pay shipping, you’ll likely have to buy by the sheet or by the yard. If it’s not high density, you’ll have a princess and the pea problem. If it’s closed-cell, it’ll be too firm (think gym floor; not great for sleeping on). You could go thicker, but the price increases dramatically with each added inch. This is your one big purchase and you can expect to pay anywhere from $100 - $200. Everything else can be done on the the cheap, but this is the difference between a good night’s sleep and an evening of mini-naps and cell phone video games.
So once you’ve got your sheet of foam, go to your grandma’s house and borrow her electric carving knife, or use a big serrated bread knife. Use the measurements of your sleep area and a sharpie to cut your foam sheet to size. Cut it by holding one side and sawing back and forth (or let the electric knife do the work--it works like a dream. Thanks, Grandma!). I did this on my floor since foam is squirrely on saw horses, but note: foam bits get everywhere, so floor that’s sweep-able is ideal. Don’t worry too much about making the edges pretty; your next step is to make a large pillowcase-type cover for it since foam has that weird chemical smell. I prefer the rectangular shape of pad for ease of use, but if you want an hourglass shaped mattress, go for it! Who doesn’t like complicated sewing patterns?
Because I use a sleeping bag on top of my foam mattress, I went to a thrift store and bought two felt-y blankets for a couple of dollars. If that freaks you out, use some old sheets or buy new fabric. Next, sew the sheets together with a sewing machine. Remember: to make sure your foam case will fit, measure your sheets to the same dimensions as your foam pad, then add an extra two inches, and sew the seam 1” in from the outermost edge, with a little extra room for non-stretchy fabrics. I sewed mine like a pillowcase, with seams on three sides, but feel free to upgrade to a zipper or buttons on your fourth side. I won’t go into the angering subtleties of understanding the thread tension on a sewing machine here. If you need help, ask grandma / a friend / the internet. Once you’ve sewn your case, put it on your foam pad, and you are done!
This completes step one! You are 33.3333% closer to one cush car-partment. Tune in to the next Allyson Stronach Hackbright application for even more car-partment fun! Preview: step two is making a desk that can hold your laptop, books, water, Funyuns, etc., and that hovers over your bed in just the right place and at just the right height. Step three is making curtains that somehow adhere to the walls/windows of your car. Step four is actually step one to a separate guide: the car-partment kitchen(!), and steps beyond that are purely pimp-out-my-ride related: things like bed-to-chair conversions, slipper holders, lighting options, shelving, the speaker situation for movie nights, etc. But don’t fear! If you want more info, the Allyson Stronach Hackbright application(s) to follow can surely be converted to friendly weekend car-partment assessment conversations over coffee and bagels in, oh, say, San Francisco this summer.
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