Dear University,
Before I say anything else, I just want to say thank you. I couldn't see it at the time, but your rejection was a blessing in disguise. You were never my top choice school — Longwood University has always held a special place in my heart. You were second on my list, but I would have gone to you over my first choice. If you had realized my potential, I would have allowed you to stunt my growth. I would have allowed you to restrict my greatness. I would have allowed myself to throw away a bright future for you.
You see, I would have chosen you for convenience. You're close to home, so I could visit mom on the weekends; forty-five minutes is nothing compared to the eight hour drive from Longwood University. My childhood friends are attending your school, and the ones who aren't attending are within an arm's reach. Both of my siblings graduated from you — I was a legacy. You were my safety net, and I felt obligated to continue a tradition that my siblings had no idea they started. I wanted to give up my dream of being a Lancer to attend your school.
I was devastated when I opened up that webpage to read, "Application status: Rejected." You saw my average GPA and my average SAT scores, and never tried to find out who I was behind the numbers. You never gave me the opportunity to prove to you that I am more than those numbers. Sure, I was able to tell you that I was on student council and sports teams, but there was no option for an essay, no option for recommendation letters. It was like you didn't care about who your prospective students were behind the grades.
Even though you were not my top choice, that one word, eight simple little letters, ruined me. I cried for weeks over you. I lost hope in myself because of you. I loss sight of my worth, and I stopped caring about my future because of you. I thought I disappointed my family because of you. You made me feel as though I was not good enough, and I spent my senior year in the dark.
And then I received a letter from Longwood University. There was no, "We regret to inform you," but also no, "Congratulations!" They told me that they saw potential in me, and wanted to get to know me better as a prospective student before accepting me. So I sent in an essay that told them of all the hardships I've overcome, and why my average GPA and average SAT scores are actually above average for someone in my position. I had my principal and two of my English teachers — all of whom knew me on a personal level — vouch for why I would be an amazing candidate for the class of 2019 at Longwood University. Even before my acceptance, I was more than just a number. They cared about the person behind the grades.
In February of 2015, my life changed. I opened up a letter that told me I'd been accepted into the best university out there. All the fear you instilled in me vanished. This school has provided me with so many opportunities you never could have. I have an internship my freshman year of college. I am a part of one of the best teaching programs in the United States. I have the opportunity to have relationships that reach far beyond the classroom with my professors, deans, and the president of my university. I am a part of multiple organizations on campus that are turning me into a citizen leader. I am a Lancer.
So thank you for allowing me to get out of my comfort zone. Thank you for allowing me to realize that I can live multiple states away from my family without falling apart -- in fact, I'm thriving on my own. Thank you for forcing me to meet new people, form new connections, and find the real me. Thank you for rejecting me. It was your loss, but one heck of a gain for Longwood University. I would much rather be a Lancer with a name than just another number at just another university.
Sincerely,
The student you missed out on.
