Your College Acceptance Letter Does Not Determine The Rest Of Your Life

Your College Acceptance Letter Does Not Determine The Rest Of Your Life

It may feel like it does, but honey, it does not. Trust me.

There are few things more anxiety provoking than the 24 hours leading up to the moment of truth: opening your decision letter from the school of your dreams.

Everyone tells you it will be OK, that everyone ends up happy, but you can only see this one way. It seems like if you don't get into this one school your life is over, but I promise life takes you exactly where you belong. Have a little faith in that and a little faith in yourself.

No matter where you end up, college is the best four years of your life; take in every moment!

1. The night before

Sleep? The night before I hear back from my dream school? Yeah right. In less than twenty-four hours, I’ll know whether my dreams are coming true or being crushed. So on that note, catch me hysterically crying at 11 p.m. and pacing around my room at 4 a.m.

I can’t believe tomorrow is the day; I've been reading about this day on college confidential since like four months ago. I’ve wanted to go to this school since I could speak. They better not reject me now.

2. The morning of

Forget breakfast, I can't even stomach my coffee today. I also have no idea how I’m driving to school because my legs will not stop shaking. If one person wishes me good luck or asks me how I am, I may have to scream in his/her face.

I better be getting in my car tomorrow decked out in my school. If not, I'm not going. Not tomorrow and not ever again.

3. Noon

I can’t pay attention in this class, or any other class for that matter, for one more day. If I don't get in, I’m gonna have to try so hard in school for so many more months. I can’t do it. Senioritis is getting the best of me. Please accept me. PLEASE.

In three-and-a-half hours I’ll know about the rest of my life, and this decision WILL make or break me. I can’t see myself anywhere else. Oh boy, these people that I don't even know are actually about to ruin my life. I hope everyone is praying for me.

4. 2:30 PM

I need to leave school now. It is officially anxiety attack time. I can’t be here surrounded by people anymore because I can't hold back my tears for one more second. I am racing home. I’m not stopping at a single red light. I’m going 100 miles per hour. I need my bed, I need my mom and I need to refresh the portal every other second. I’m out of here. Hopefully, I make it home.

5. The moment we've all been waiting for: 5:00 P.M.

It’s time. I can’t look. This cannot actually be happening. I can’t even click my trackpad, my hand is shaking too much. I can’t see my screen because all I've done for the past three hours is cry. I can’t look. OK. I’m doing it.

One, two…. no, I can’t.

Maybe my mom should check for me, but then again, this is something I have to do on my own. If I want to go to college I have to be mature enough to handle this.

OK. I’m doing it. Right now. I have to rip the band-aid. Fingers crossed, toes crossed, knees crossed, eyes crossed. Everyone cross everything. It’s happening. Right. Now…

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To The Teacher Who Was So Much More

Thank you for everything

I think it's fair to say that most people remember at least one teacher who had a lasting impact on them. I have been incredibly lucky to have several teachers who I will never forget, but one individual takes the cake. So here's to you: thank you for all you have done.

Thank you for teaching me lessons not just in the textbook.

Although you taught a great lecture, class was never just limited to the contents of the course. Debates and somewhat heated conversations would arise between classmates over politics and course material, and you always encouraged open discussion. You embraced the idea of always having an opinion, and always making it be heard, because why waste your voice? You taught me to fight for things I believed in, and to hold my ground in an argument. You taught me to always think of others before doing and speaking. You showed me the power of kindness. Thank you for all the important lessons that may not have been included in the curriculum.

Thank you for believing in me.

Especially in my senior year, you believed in me when other teachers didn't. You showed me just what I could accomplish with a positive and strong attitude. Your unwavering support kept me going, especially when I melted into a puddle of tears weekly in your office. You listened to my stupid complaints, understood my overwhelming stress-induced breakdowns, and told me it was going to be okay. Thank you for always being there for me.

Thank you for inspiring me.

You are the epitome of a role model. Not only are you intelligent and respected, but you have a heart of gold and emit beautiful light where ever you go. You showed me that service to others should not be looked at as a chore, but something to enjoy and find yourself in. And I have found myself in giving back to people, thanks to your spark. Thank you for showing me, and so many students, just how incredible one person can be.

Thank you for changing my life.

Without you, I truly would not be where I am today. As cliche as it sounds, you had such a remarkable impact on me and my outlook on life. Just about a year has passed since my graduation, and I'm grateful to still keep in touch. I hope you understand the impact you have made on me, and on so many other students. You are amazing, and I thank you for all you have done.

Cover Image Credit: Amy Aroune

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I Want To Be Hopeful About The Weinstein Trial, But I Can’t Help Being Cynical

What if this is "just another rape trial"?


Please read my subheadline again.

Did you read it? Actually, read it? To the point where your internal narrator voice spoke every word?

It kills me to write a phrase like "just another rape trial".

It feels wrong because it is wrong.

So is the way our society perceives sexual violence.

I'm a member of the #MeToo movement and a performance student looking for ways I can continue to not only process my own experiences but help explore to the complex issue of sexual assault awareness. I want to be hopeful that the media involvement, the activism and the sheer size of the dialogue will make a difference.

Considering Harvey Weinstein's actions, in particular, I hope he serves the full life sentence the new charges against him justify.

But after examples like the Brock Turner case, it feels all too easy to lose hope.

I find myself full of questions, and none of them good.

What if #MeToo somehow provides a means to argue that the trial is unfair? What if the fact that Weinstein is rich and famous just means he can get off the hook, despite the fact that the over 80 allegations against him appear damning?

What will it mean if he faces heavily reduced consequences for his reprehensible actions?

And before you start to say, "there's NO WAY that could happen..."

May I remind you what many Democrats were saying a year and a half ago? And may I remind you who is sitting in the White House today (or how many sexual misconduct allegations are currently against him)?

Saying something can't happen doesn't mean it can't happen. It just means we don't want to think about it happening.

We can and should stay hopeful. We can and should stay strong.

We also should be wary of tricks lawyers have up their sleeves and the things money can do in the American legal system. We should be concerned with #MeToo turning into a fad instead of a continuous opportunity to speak up and speak out.

We have to think about Weinstein, despite the new indictment and ongoing debate for sexual assault awareness, not facing the consequences of his actions fully or at all, even if we don't want to.

Because then we have to think about what to do next.

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