Whether you have had a summer internship lined up for months or you’ve just begun to embark on the application process, as college students, we all are striving to find ways into our chosen fields and aspiring to stick out. Companies sort through hundreds of applications and, unless we have something unique, it is very easy to get lost in the pile.

So as we all work hard to critique our resumes and practice telling sophisticated anecdotes for our interviews, it occurs to me that we are essentially putting on a show, just trying to impress our audience and get a great review from the critics.

An example of such behavior is the common concealment of our social networking sites from the professional world. We change all the settings on Facebook to the highest forms of privacy and change our Twitter names to something so indistinguishable that our even best friends can’t find us. Many people censor their social networking sites so much that their page is no longer an accurate representation of who they are. We have a role to play and in doing so, we strategically hide any evidence that could potentially reveal who we really are.

A standard resume is just as much of a show; we follow guidelines and look at examples and ask for advice on how to advertise ourselves in the most professional manner. As I sit at my desk continuously over-analyzing my resume I consider whether or not this one sheet of paper accurately portrays who I am. It is merely a censored fact sheet telling a potential employer a handful of good accomplishments; I’ve realized how easy it is to hide behind the fancy words and aligned bullet points.

It’s unsettling to think that all my work for the past couple years boils down to one page. Simply handing it over and expecting that to determine my professional fate hardly seems fair. So I began to wonder what my resume would look like if, hypothetically, the guidelines were less formal. How would I prove to my potential employer that I am not only accomplished, but also unique?

The 8 by 10 sheet of paper would not be filled with black words; instead, it would consist of artifacts that reflect my unique experiences. Just like my traditional resume, it would reveal my education, professional experience and leadership.

For professional experience, I would attach the nail file I bought with my Bath & Body Works employee discount, my certificate for finishing my summer as a Lewis Intern and a picture of my fourth grade campers completing their first summer away from home. For education, I would include one of my saved Illini football tickets, my Visual Politics midterm and one of the many checklists that live inside my daily planner. And for leadership, I would be sure to include my Alpha Epsilon Phi bid card, as well as my personal invitation to represent my chapter at my sorority’s national convention.

Obviously, I do not intend to send this resume in, but my experiences were not just words. They were tangible, life-altering affairs where I obtained the skills I’m proud of.

Gain perspective on your past experiences. Although I do not suggest we all start sending in collages, I do think that somewhere along the way, people have become afraid of being creative. Often times, we are so concerned about giving the employer exactly what we think they want, we lose a part of our individuality.

There is no “right” kind of resume— you’re given one sheet of paper, so take advantage of it. As I continue my adventure into the professional world, I plan to be creative. With our current economic situation, I cannot afford to be just another applicant.

Ashley Abramowicz is a junior in LAS.