I feel like I’ve been preparing for this grueling experience throughout all of high school.
“Wherever you go you will be happy.”
“Oh, that school is impossible to get into.”
“Everything happens for a reason.”
These are just a few of the unsolicited responses I’ve received from friends, strangers, and even my dermatologist when they’re reminded that I’m in the middle of the extremely hectic college admissions process. Are these responses encouraging? Sometimes. Thoughtful? Sort of. Anxiety-provoking? Definitely.
As a senior in high school, I’m constantly consumed by college data, researching deadlines, and editing supplemental essays. Now that it’s February and most of my applications are in, I’m stuck in a waiting game that’ll last until March, if I’m lucky — if I’m not, I could end up on a waitlist until July.
The process leading up to submitting applications has been far from easy: I’ve spent countless nights wondering, How can I describe my biggest fear in 150 words? Or, is 13 years of tap dancing interesting enough? Or, should I have taken up the oboe? And while the months spent actually completing the applications were the most demanding, the stress wasn’t limited to that pocket of time. I feel like I’ve been preparing for this grueling experience throughout all of high school.
The culmination of four years’ work, including impressive extracurriculars and rigorous coursework, all leads up to that one moment when I click on my application’s “Status Update,” which will result in an adrenaline rush of joy or crushing disappointment.
So many of my classmates equate where they’ll go to school with how successful and happy they’ll be, not understanding that college is just one facet of their future.
What’s especially tough is not linking my college acceptances (or lack thereof) to my sense of self-worth. Frank Bruni notes in his book Where You Go Is Not Who You’ll Be, “Your control over the outcome is very, very limited, and that outcome says nothing definitive about your talent or potential.” So many of my classmates equate where they’ll go to school with how successful and happy they’ll be, not understanding that college is just one facet of their future.
Understanding that I can only control so much during this process has been difficult. Amid this crazy application process, I was once sure I’d started seeing signs that a higher, spiritual power had gotten involved: I was convinced that spotting certain college sweatshirts on the street was an indication that I was going to be admitted to whatever school was emblazoned on the garment. I knew that I had done the best I could possibly do — taking extra classes, working my hardest, exploring what I was passionate about, and writing the most compelling and creative essays I could — but knowing that this decision was out of my control, I was looking for anything to comfort me through this unsettling chapter.
While some of the elements of the process may sound familiar to you — I visited college campuses with my parents, whose opinions differed from mine many times, and asked friends and family to read my college essays — for my generation, there’s an added layer of stress thanks to social media. With the world at our fingertips, I’m more aware than ever of how my posting, tweeting, and group chatting can affect somebody else. A post about a friend or a sibling getting into college may seem harmless but can be very discouraging to someone who was just rejected from that same school. Social media is just one more reason why the college admissions process has turned into a hot gossip topic (for students and parents), making it even more stressful for high school seniors who are just trying to get through it.
Yet during this stressful time — when I’ve been given a lot of discouraging (and unwanted)
advice — I’ve also received plenty of useful guidance. One teacher recently told me, “A school is great if it lets your greatness and interests shine.” That has stayed with me and reminds me that whether I’m on a big-city campus or a tree-filled sleepy quad, I’ll make the best of whatever situation I find myself in. Perhaps those well-intentioned yet strangers were right: Wherever I go, I will be happy.
Sophia Paley is a New Yorker and a senior at the Horace Mann School.
