The back-breaking load of college acceptance letters

 

By Hillary Wallace
April 25, 2008

 

Opening the mailbox, I pull out the usual junk: magazines, catalogues, bills for the parents, a thank you note for one of my brothers. And then the moment I’ve been waiting for since I knew how to say the word “college”: an envelope with my name on it and a collegiate return address.

 

I pull out a standard white envelope with a sinking feeling in my stomach. Some schools may send their decision, whatever it may be, in a standard envelope, but most send out acceptance letters in a slightly larger casing.

 

I open the letter nervously, my heart beating much too fast. One word jumps at me: waitlist.

 

This word brings on a mixture of different emotions: relief that I was not rejected and a little sadness that I was not accepted. It’s one of those situations where your mom might tell you to look at the situation as glass half-full, but from your perspective it is definitely half-empty.

 

The hardest part about getting a non-acceptance letter is realizing that the “sun will come out tomorrow” to quote little orphan Annie.

 

The second hardest part is going to school the next day to face the stream of “did you get in?”.

 

It seems as if the entire school (or at least just my friends) is talking about who got in and who didn’t. As I listen to the gossip, I can’t believe how insensitive some of the comments are.

 

One of my favorites is, “If he/she can’t get in, then who can?” Well, obviously someone can because the school will have a full freshman class for next year.

 

Other classics are, “It’s such a shot in the dark. How could he/she get in and I didn’t?” These comments also make me think about my own application and my own insecurities. How could I have made my essays better? Could I have done better on my SAT?

 

If I allow myself to continue asking these questions, I will only drive myself nuts and make myself stressed.

 

I’ve learned throughout this whole process that constantly comparing myself to friends is one of the worst things I can do. We are not the same people, so comparing myself to others is like comparing apples to oranges. Only I know what my best work looks like and where I will be happiest for the next four years.

 

Also, I am a firm believer in the mantra it’s not were you go, but what you do when you’re there. It is nice to get into where you want to go, but you are ultimately the only person who can make your college experience good or bad.

 

So when I hear kids talking about others’ acceptances, waitlists and rejections, I’m extra cautious. It’s hard to walk the fine line between being conversational, and really sticking your foot in your mouth. The appropriate response is not always easy to find. Ultimately though, a little courtesy and humbleness never hurt anyone. And as all my relatives have told me from when I was really little; good merchandise sells itself.