Dear Anastasia,
"...Unfortunately, your academic credentials, or total points accumulated in the Scholastic Indicator Score (SIS) do not qualify you for further consideration..."
Rejected.
For nearly eight months, I've had a bottle of wine on my shelf, waiting to be opened for when I received my first acceptance letter to vet school. I guess, for now, at least, it'll remain in its place on that shelf. I've never been rejected from anything in my life before. I was always accepted into higher level courses in high school, I got my driver's license the first time I tried, I got into my top college with a scholarship, and at eighteen, I landed a job many people wouldn't trust a high school kid with. I've been beyond lucky and incredibly blessed to pursue the opportunities that have been given to me. Needless to say, I was shocked at how well I handled someone taking my dream and throwing it back in my face in a crumpled heap.
On second thought, maybe I'm not...
Growing up, it wasn't often I was given anything freely or without reason. My parents raised my sister and me to work for the things we desired and to always put your best effort forth, and if you did just that, good things would come to you. Now, I'm not saying my parents never brought home a surprise from the store or treated me to ice cream for dinner every now and then, but they never threw things at me just because they wanted me to be happy--for that, I'm thankful. There came a time in my life, growing up, that I found myself in a situation I wish for no one to ever have to go through. At sixteen, I found myself with two divorced parents, both laid off from their jobs, and a younger sister too young to have a job. So there I was--sixteen--and working obscene hours at a pool to try and make whatever money I could make to help my family out. I worked about six days a week, between eight and fourteen hours a day, depending on whether or not there was a party. More often than not, I found myself turning down plans with friends because I didn't have the money until payday, and I didn't want to ask my parents for the money because I knew that money could always go towards something better. My sister would often ask, "are we poor," and we weren't. I was lucky enough to have a roof over my head, food in my belly, and clothing on my back. I had a great education and I had friends. I had love. Money seemed like a trivial thing.
I shouldn't have had to learn that at sixteen, but I did. I learned the value of a dollar much earlier than some of my friends, and I learned that hard work and determination will get you anywhere, even if you have to fail numerous times.
Before I got to college, I had only ever failed at one thing: high school math. I actually failed. It sucked, and I'd like to say retaking it made me a better person, but it didn't. I didn't learn more about myself, and I wish there was some heroic backstory to go with it, but there isn't. When I actually got to college, I was awakened to just how few people I could actually rely on.
One would think that a professor's job would be to push you, encourage you, and help you figure out where to go when you're lost and failing. It surprised me how few professors actually do this, and more so, how many couldn't care less how you do. I've gotten some shit grades...actually, I've gotten more than I'd like to admit, but few of my final grades reflect that. I've re-taken classes and I've thought about changing my major more times than I can count. I've been beaten down, criticized, and made to feel so inadequate by people whose job it is to lift me up, but here I am, three and a half years later, and somehow, by the grace of God, still standing. I have many incredible, wonderful, supportive friends, but college has taught me that the only person I can ever rely on to pull me out of deep shit situations is me. Despite the academic hell that is Allegheny, I'll never condone the education I got here over four years. It's been tough, and at times has seemed impossible to deal with, but it's been an experience I wouldn't trade for anything.
So, last night, when I received that email at 5:40 p.m., telling me to take my dreams somewhere else, I took it for what it was. I didn't get mad, I didn't cry or scream or blame my problems on someone else. I simply said, "okay." Life doesn't always work out like the way you plan it to, but that doesn't mean I don't control my life. I still have the power to do whatever I choose to do with my life, and if that's moving across the state, changing my dreams and aspirations, or doing things a roundabout way, then by God I'm going to do it.
Just because Michigan State didn't want me, doesn't mean my dreams are done. In fact, they're FAR from done. Success doesn't come without failure--a lot of failure--but I will, one day, succeed. And when I do, I will scream it from the mountain tops.
Looks like I'll stay a Wolverine for good...and that's okay...it's their loss.
