Everyone always dotes on this month (partially because of the warm weather, a probable relieve from cooler seasons). However, we all know that for seniors, this month offers a special decree: the college admissions letter.
However, so much rests on this month beyond its first day. We nurture heartaches, celebrate successes and finally reach our ultimate, life-altering decision, the deciding factor regarding which college we will dedicate ourselves to for the next four years of our lives.
For the last couple of years, the same message has been ingrained in our heads: work hard, get into a good school. But the very traumatic element about this statement is that it does not offer any cushion; it is an absolute statement, a justification for working nights and rote memorization.
For me, April has been an absolute nightmare. It has left me on the edge with so many questions. What am I going to major in? What will be my profession? What programs interest me the most? But amidst this storm of thought, there is this daunting and constant thought that I couldn't get into or go to the right school for me.
I know, I must be the worst example possible for any student deciding. But somewhere between rejections and soaring costs, I'm really left with little options. You can imagine the sleepless nights I've had.
But perhaps I sound a bit melodramatic. After all, in the grand scheme of things, I am going to college, and I am still able to change my perspective on my chosen school. However, it's so difficult to imagine myself at such a place. It sounds so...middle America; I will be trapped in this suburban, middle-class environment with washed-out jeans, plastic flip-flops and baseball caps, descriptions very similar to where I live now. But I will have no gateway to any major cities or considerably fun weekend explorations. I fear the thought of suffocating to death in that autonomous sea of textbooks and hard data and thousands of students. The very thought that I could have had afternoon teas and grand pianos- and France! further darkens the equation.
In hindsight, I think it'll be great learning experience. My cocoon is getting a little bit too small and I'm ready to expand and understand all aspects of the world...even if it involves face paint and white sneakers.
A part of me wants to stop being so damn philosophical about everything. Because it's a competitive world, I may not have time to express all of my "feelings". After graduate school, I will be a professional, I'll probably buy an expensive briefcase which I'll only tote for job interviews and wear black high heels. But I know this inherent part of myself will be treasured because it keeps me grounded and in perspective of the larger picture and it offers vividness, this essence of being alive.
I just hope I can maneuver through the first year with positivity. I'm not sure what the future holds after that, but I'm eager to explore.
