(via theonlyones)
So I haven’t done this in a while… but here goes.
I had everything prepared the day I got rejected by Middlebury in mid-Feb. Whatever thoughts I was going to put into an epic post about rejection and shattered dreams had been written down. It was to be about several things, like having to feel awkward whenever I stare at my 2012 planner (in which I had written Middlebury College’16 almost everywhere possible). It was to be about how it absolutely SUCKED having to repeat those four miserably treacherous words over and over again.
“I didn’t get in.”
“I didn’t get in.”
“I didn’t get in!”
It was to be about how vehemently I believed that I was meant to be a Midkid and only a Midkid.
I was going to write about it.
But amongst all the disbelief and denial, the “i-knew-this-was-gonna-happen” sentiments and the half-hearted efforts to move on, I didn’t need another reminder that I was not, and no longer will be, a Midkid.
Quite frankly, come March I was over it (I would like to thank my Dad,Warren Buffet and Aimee in particular. Another thing that helped was the constant “note-to-self” that I can always apply for transfer next fall).
And so with much eagerness, I looked forward to hearing from my 13 other choices… until one by one I began to realize that my relationship (aka blind obsession) with America was in actual fact, one-sided.
Did they not like my Brazil Nut reference? Did they not sympathize with my Weltschmerz? Did they not appreciate my forced quirkiness on Commonapp? (although I have to admit that main essay of mine was the most ‘me’ essay I could ever had conjured up during that short period of time). Did they think my SAT score was that indecent? Did they not recognize my hard work, albeit a little too late? I mean… show some fucking mercy YOU NASTY AMERICAN COLLEGES!!!!
But ultimately, knowing that my applications were in NO WAY outstanding enough for the majority of the colleges I applied to gave me no right to stay bitter. The odds were never in my favour, and sadly, hope would remain only as hope; that’s that. I was already getting used to all that greeted me- a short message, standard apology and lackadaisical regards that almost spell “Good Riddance”- by the time I read my 4th rejection. I believe that was Wesleyan.
{Now, here’s the point where I tell myself to start talking about the fact that some people I know got into Brown, or NYU (which I didn’t even apply to btw), or Yale/Princeton (which I didn’t bother applying to) or Vassar… but I wont. Yes lesson learnt.}
However, I was fortunate enough to end up in a situation whereby I had to choose one of four schools- Kings College, St Andrews University, Hamilton College & Colby College. *Wait, my apologies…who am I kidding?* One out of two schools- Hamilton and Colby, aka conversations at coffee shops in a quaint small-town vs conversations in kayaks while drifting down a river in Maine. Aka somewhat urban chics vs foresters if you wish. After much deliberation as well as spasmodic suppression of thoughts involving something like “but St Andrews might be better for your future”, I decided to go with the 200-year old-school in up-state New York with the streakers and a Continental.
I should and will be happy there. After all, they (along with Colby), thought I, of all people, would look good in blue.
As Conan O’Brien puts it in his Commencement Speech at Dartmouth 2011- which honestly made me wish I applied there, but then again, made me happy I didn’t as I wouldn’t want that stinky feeling of getting rejected by yet ANOTHER fine institution- “There are few things more liberating in this life than having your worst fears realized…the point is this: It is our failure to become our perceived ideal that ultimately defines us and makes us unique. It’s not easy, but if you accept your misfortune and handle it right, your perceived failure can become a catalyst for profound reinvention”.
To end off, I would like to remind everyone of something that I’d probably include in my Valedictorian Speech if I ever get to give one… or not. It may be hard to imagine, but imagine it anyway-
As I get ready to step off the podium, Featherstone by The Paper Kites plays loudly. I speak for the very last time, “To the Class of 2016, I would just like to sing a little sum’in sum’in to all of you… And we’ll hate what we’ve lost but we’ll love what we find, and now I’m feeling fine, we’ve made it to the coastline… woo wooo wooo… wooo wooo woo… woooooo wooo wooo wooo... Thank you.”
