The University of Chicago, known for its wacky essay questions, this year let members of the freshman class dream up four topics to torture applicants. Christopher Wand of Newark Academy in Livingston, N.J., chose this question: ''In a pivotal scene of a recent American film, a videographer -- a dark and mysterious teenage character -- records a plastic bag blowing in the wind. He ruminates on the elusive nature of truth and beauty, and suggests that beauty is everywhere -- often in the most unlikely places and in the quirky details of things. What is something that you love, because it reflects a kind of idiosyncratic beauty -- the uneven features of a mutt you adopted at the pound, a drinking glass with an interesting flaw, the feather boa you found in the Wal-Mart parking lot? These things can reveal (or conceal) our identity; so describe something that tells us who you are (or aren't).'' Mr. Wand responded with the following:

I have, for the past several years, worn a subway token around my neck on a thin black cord. This coin has no great story attached, no humorous anecdote, no hair-raising tale of danger averted by a simple coin. It has stopped no bullets, derailed no trains, it hasn't even gotten me back to Grand Central from the Met when I was out of cash. So a question I am asked quite often (mostly by myself though by a fair share of other people too) is, ''Why wear it?'' or perhaps: ''What does it mean?''

My first impulse is to declare, as so many abstract artists have in recent years, ''It means what it is.'' This is, of course, a cop-out. If that is the sole reason I wear this subway token, why not wear just anything around my neck? Certainly there must be some reason I wear a subway token. With all due respect to abstract artists, this response, brilliant when first uttered, quickly grows weary with repetition.

I suppose I must admit that one reason I wear it is as part of an elaborate gag. Whenever someone asks about it and I'm in a joking mood I begin to tell them that it is an ancient Tibetan coin inscribed with the ancient inscription ''Good for One Fare'' (pronounced goud for oh-nay fahr-ay). Their faces always light up with fascination as I invite them to take a closer look. The look on their faces as they declare in surprise, ''It's just a subway token!'' is absolutely priceless. The moment as they realize the humor of the situation, just before they begin to laugh along with you, is positively sublime. When you pull it off just right it's a beautiful thing -- you really should try it some time. The occasional laugh, however, is more a happy side benefit of wearing a subway token than a real reason to wear one 24/7.

One reason I wear it is because it's something familiar. It's nice to know that I can always press my hand to my chest and feel the knot that holds it in place digging into my sternum. I have only two pieces of jewelry that I wear all the time, my subway token and my watch, and as I have someth...