Hello -
I am the student that is so eagerly pursuing acceptance into your program. I wish to attend your college so that I may further myself as a human being and discover a promising career track that will lead me to a well-paying job post-graduation. I am willing to leave my home, my friends, my familiar surroundings, and my dear family members behind in order to attend your university. I am also willing to throw myself into a sea of student debt, debt that I may very well never have the ability to pay off, debt that will burden my children's children. I will fill out every application, every financial form, every online essay that you throw at me because I care that much about bettering myself. I will read the books, study the notes, and face the dreaded finals weeks. I am ready. I am willing. I am young and determined and, by gone it, I want this.
There's just one small problem.
You don't seem to want me.
I would like to discuss this. I don't understand what I am doing wrong. For four years now, I have put schoolwork at the top of my list of priorities. Projects instead of birthday parties, deadlines instead of dances. Don't get me wrong, I do not regret placing an emphasis on my education. Being a well-informed member of society is important, vital to sustain stability, of course. But that is still four years of youth spent on a high-school education, and, for a while, I firmly believed that it would all be worth it.
I have not only been an active member in the classroom; I have volunteered in the community. I have walked abused dogs, and cleaned up the litter that cluttered the coasts of our local riverbank. I have written speeches on the importance of gender equality and presented it to young women who had never heard of such a thing. I have donated hundreds of dollars worth of clothes, canned goods, and toys for under-privileged children. I have done my part, which seems to be larger than that of any adult I have spoken to in many years. And don't even get me started on my participation in school sponsored clubs. Oh, boy. I have joined everything from student government to the Gay Straight Alliance to the comic book club. I attend the weekly meetings and discuss critical topics with my peers. I bring ideas to the table; I present alternative solutions. I dedicate my time and energy to these clubs and have done so for nearly four years, now.
Four years. Four years of frantically double-checking my six weeks grades, chugging down Vitamin Waters to stay awake for just one more hour, juggling rehearsals and homework and auditions and applications and leadership roles and standardized tests; four years of this constant movement, constant cycle of anxiety, has taken its toll.
I am tired. I am seventeen years old and I am tired.
I do not need to remind you that the teenage years are - well, perplexing, to say the least. You don't know who you are; you're still searching for yourself. You see glimpses of great, impactful people and you think, "I'll be like them. Just like them." And you never are, because you are you. And sometimes that's disappointing. Sometimes all you want is to become somebody else because that somebody else has themselves figured out. And you don't.
So why, College Admissions Officers, do I get the feeling that you are belittling me? I am a nervous, confused, desperate sack of hormones and you are clean-cut, straight-laced adults. You have your own place to live, you function under your own schedule, you make your own money. Maybe you even wear suits, ties, or custom-fit dresses. I have been working to ensure for acceptance into a university since the first day of high-school. I have made sacrifices. I have traded my time for decent grades. I have handed myself over to you on a silver platter laced with ribbon, and you present me with...what? What will you offer me besides blank stares and unimpressed side-grins?
Am I still not good enough? Even after all of those politically correct terms, like "community" and "determined" and "leadership"? But I thought I was on the right track; throughout the entirety of this application process, I have been told to present myself as professional and un-customized as possible. Did I do something wrong? Did my personality sneak through my machine-esque facade?
Gah. Pesky personalities.
Let me be clear: I do not want you to admit me simply because I am questioning you and your methods of admission. You can do whatever you please. I also do not want you to admit me because I have a blog and that's seen as "artsy" and different, and you're looking for that kind of girl.
Do not admit me because I am a woman and you want to prove that you are not sexist.
Do not admit me because I am a member of the lower middle-class and you want to "save me" from my current situation.
Do not admit me because I have divorced parents and, therefore, must be emotionally scarred and suffer from abandonment issues.
Do not admit me because I have a rare medical disorder and you crave diversity.
Do not admit me because I am short enough to play Chorus Member #3 in your spring production of A Midsummer Night's Dream.
Do not admit me because I have a Californian accent, as do you, so we must share a sacred bond via our root geography.
Do not admit me because you feel bad for me.
Admit me because I have worked endlessly for that acceptance letter, and no other student would love you better. Admit me because I am a student who is eager to accept the challenge. I am young, I am determined, I am ready.
Admit me because I am Lindsey and nobody else is.
(Also, send me some scholarship money because, wow, hot tots, college is expensive.)
