The New York City streets were loud and busy, but I shoved past numerous people and made my way home. I looked towards the Manhattan skyline from my home in Queens, then hastily unlocked the heavy front door. I took a deep breath of the afternoon air and pulled the door shut behind me before turning towards the foyer. Looking at the stack of mail clumsily dropped onto a smooth marble table, my eyes were drawn to a crisp envelope with the word “yes” printed boldly on its front. I approached the pile and rifled through it, sorting it for each resident of the building and stocking the respective mail slots. Turning back to the table, I picked up what remained and brought it up to my apartment. Passing through my living room, I flung the distinct envelope onto my couch, and brought the rest of my family’s mail to a countertop, leaving it there. Glancing towards the couch, I decided to look and see who sent an acceptance letter. Printed on one of the corners was a stamp that boasted the name of a school- Ball State University.
That little introduction probably didn’t paint an image of joy and excitement for a college acceptance. Truth is, I had felt a variety of emotions each time I received a welcoming letter from a school. Eagerness was present, but accompanied with waves of uncertainty and curiosity that crashed into my emotions like sudden tidal waves. Each fresh acceptance brought the same question forward: Is this school right for me? Ball State would be one of the last to grant me acceptance; the seventh of fifteen that did so. The remaining schools had either rejected me or placed me on a waiting list. More on that later. Ball State University was a school that I knew little about. So perhaps you’re wondering, what compelled me to even apply to Ball State? Change. Not the good stuff that jingles in your pockets after you break a big bill over a candy bar (or rather, what college students desperately save up) but the difference in experience that I tried to hide from.
Along with Ball State University, I was accepted to five colleges in New York, and one in Connecticut. The process of elimination for my future education was radically different from anything I’d done before. Financing was one of my biggest concerns, and some of my top choices were struggling to deliver any aid. However, my choices began to shrink over a number of other factors. Four of them were smaller state universities; cheap in cost but did not offer the best in academics and extracurricular opportunities. They were also hours up north in NY and fairly isolated, being simple college towns with little nearby. It wasn’t the environment I desired to be in. This left me with Ball State University, Manhattanville College, and Fairfield University. One location in three different states. Manhattanville, despite it’s suggestive name, is not in the greater borough of Manhattan, but a short drive into upstate New York. I visited for a general tour of the campus, and was disappointed by the condition of the aging buildings, bleak and stone grey campus, and mostly overwhelmed by the putrid odor of fresh fertilizer; the smell could only be compared to animal waste, leading me to declare that Manhattanville was, well, to put it in cleaner terms, a pile of animal waste. None of what I experienced justified the $53k they were asking from me. With that, I confidentially eliminated the top choice of mine, leaving Fairfield and Ball State, along with one of the smaller state schools that I “brought back” for a fallback. Fairfield University certainly captured my interest, but that feeling skyrocketed after I visited the campus. It was in its own little bubble, right down the road from town but still closed off that it made for a quaint, quiet environment. The aesthetic factors were pleasing, but the most important part was my academic future. Fairfield offered a pathway to become and educator in five years, but allowed for more concentrations to be sampled, so a degree would show variance in the fields I could teach. During my visit, I met and connected with multiple representatives that offered summer opportunities and chances to work for campus facilities. Now, all of this sounds like opportunistic incentives that should have been taken up on. However, a couple of factors would ultimately lead me to abandon the school. The biggest issue? Cost. Fairfield’s price tag was around $60k and their financial aid was not sufficient for me to attend. I made calls, sent letters, and almost took a second trip to the university in desperate attempts to gain more financial aid. However, it would peak at just short of half the total cost. With the few days before the college commitment deadline, I had to weigh my options against each other once more. Meanwhile, Ball State University had proposed several opportunities, much like Fairfield, but allowed flexibility, while the Connecticut college was more persistent on giving me deadlines even before I attended. Ball State offered academic, financial, and extra-curricular opportunities; I would have faculty ready to help point me in the right direction if I asked for help. My correspondence with the school was enough to spark up my interest, and it became clear that the college would be the best option for me. Three or so days before the commitment date, I analyzed my options one last time, then decided to go forward with Ball State.
Though I could write on and on about this process, there comes a point where I must stop. However, future articles will elaborate on the transition of going from high school to college, and the first few months at Ball State.
