“You can try, but you’re never going to get in.”
I remember hearing those words and feeling crushed. I was 17 years old and I was a pretty determined kid. My parents had agreed that when it came to college, I could go wherever I wanted in the country, because of their desire to give me the best opportunity when it came to education. If I got into a top tier school, would be willing to take on some financial aid and it was generally affordable, they would cut the umbilical cord and let me go.
Somehow, I decided that I was going to go, that I NEEDED to go to the University of Virginia.
My rationale was simple. It was FAR. At least 6 hours far.
It was beautiful. Full of Thomas Jefferson’s vision, architecture and history – the majestic grounds of the school were some of the prettiest I had seen.
It WAS a challenge. For a middle-class kid from New Jersey who just wanted a chance, I knew it would be hard – to get into and to achieve at. But I was determined.
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“You can try, but you’re never going to get in,” my guidance counselor told me. I know she meant well and wanted to prepare me with getting the right back-ups in place, but I still remember how she could speak of my imminent failure with such conviction.
Little did she know that just by saying that, I was going. No question about it.
And I toiled. And I worked. I pumped through the application, laboring endlessly on the essays but finding that magical inspiration which turned out several essays I was extremely proud of. I knew I killed the application on the extracurricular part – lots of President, Captain, Treasurer titles amongst societies and teams that confirmed I busted my butt a lot.
When I sent that application in the mail for early admission, I crossed my fingers and prayed. But just in case, I continued to work on my applications for Northwestern, Columbia, Stanford, Berkeley and Brown. (All other schools I was told not to even consider).
One of my best friends was also applying. We would talk about how great UVA would be together and how these two Jersey girls would take the Southern campus by storm. At the time, I was woefully unaware that people from New Jersey seem to permeate every college campus in this country like ants. Apparently, my friend and I were not the only ones who wanted to “RUN.”
The letter came. I got accepted. My friend didn’t.
I was sad, but excited. I felt guilty, but validated. I felt disappointed to not be going with my friend, but also felt like I was taking a leap off a big, scary cliff.
By myself. And it felt pretty freaking cool.
I could rock this.
I rode that crest of happiness for a bit till I went back to school that Monday.
In Calculus that day, my friend and I sat in our usual seats, drinking our diet Snapple. When our teacher, Mr. Buxbaum asked everyone how their weekends were, my friend told him about what happened – that I had been accepted to the university we both dreamed of going to and that she hadn’t.
I don’t think I will ever forget his reaction. He kind of closed his eyes and took a long breath. His hands were clasped together under his chin and he shook his head over them, grinding his chin into his knuckles. When he opened his eyes, he shrugged his shoulders, still shaking his head and said:
“Well, who is the minority?”
Here is my balloon. Here is a needle. Go ahead, Mr. Buxbaum – just pop it. Not just to reassure my friend but to also reassure me that my years of busting my ass meant nothing. Make sure you say it in front of the class as well.
That I achieved a big dream of mine because I was brown.
I felt a lot of shame. The crest of that wave I was riding crashed. So did a lot of other things.
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A few years ago, I was having a conversation with my neighbor who is a friend of mine. She was saying she would love it if her sons could go to UVA. (I now live in Northern VA, never made it back to New Jersey). While I had gotten in as an out of state student, she explained to me it was much harder to go as an in-state student.
Unless things have changed, I know that the standards for in-state are always going to be lower in terms of standardized testing scores. But yeah – i get that if 100 people from your high school are applying there, it might be tougher.
I tried to explain that, but stopped. She wasn’t trying to invalidate me. She was just wanting the best for her own kids and explaining how she felt.
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“You can try, but you’ll never get in.”
“Well, who is the minority?”
There are days when I wonder why I am scared to pursue things I might fail at. Why I let that spunky 17 year old girl from New Jersey disappear. But a part of me knows she is there somewhere, still standing up for herself and fighting what she believes in.
Its just that the weight of all the words from detractors over the years has started to feel heavy. And it shouldn’t.
There will always be detractors in your life. They can hold you down, they can try to drag you down (Kind of like the Chumbawaba song, “I Get Knocked Down”) but you just have to take the words and release them. Or at least acknowledge them and say to yourself,
“You’re WRONG. I AM special. I AM a rock star. Don’t put the weight of your disappointments on me.”
Detractors are often not just “saying it like it is” as many like to say. They have their own disappointments. Their own dreams that have faded. And sometimes its a little hard to watch someone dream and maybe succeed while they have given up.
Probably because they also had they own detractors.
I wish more children and youth received this message:
“You ARE special. You ARE a rock star. Don’t let anyone take your dreams from you. And don’t let anyone tell you that when you achieve them, you didn’t deserve them.”
Because you will achieve them. If you stop listening to your detractors. And over time, the biggest one to challenge what we want to do, what we want to achieve, what we have accomplished?
It becomes, well, ourselves.
Build yourself back up. That child with the dreams?
That child deserves it.
YOU deserve it.
Kiran
I love, love, love this story. You have a real knack for solid storytelling, and I applaud that!
When I was a sophomore in high school I was in a multi-cultural acting troupe that toured local schools doing skits about alcohol and drug abuse (riveting, I know). I had tried to get into the troupe for two years, but it wasn’t until my third year auditioning that I got in. I thought it was because my acting had matured along with the rest of me. A few months went by, and I was still happily oblivious to why I was cast. It wasn’t until I overheard the director saying, “I know, she’s so ethnic looking! She can be Jewish or Indian or Persian or Latino. We already had two black kids and two Asians, so we needed something else, you know?”
Aha.
Thank you for sharing another thought-provoking piece. You rock!
First of all you are gorgeous and I think its cool to look like lots of ethnicities. The sad thing is that is the world we live in. I wish you hadn’t heard it though. At least, it “seemed” to work in your favor though it was at a cost in some ways.
The funniest was I was in a Speech and Drama class in High School and every year the class did a play for the local kindergarten class for a field trip. It was Pecos Bill. I wanted to be Slue Foot Sue. Not only did I not get cast as Slue Foot Sue, they made up a part for another American Indian. i was the Indian being the Indian.
Nobody but me saw the irony in that. Is that odd? I found it strange but what the hell do I know, I’m just a minority.
Kiran
Mr. Buxbaum was a poor excuse for a teacher. Come to think of it, I feel like there were quite a few like that…..
Uh – yeah, I would agree with you there, Mary! For all that – there were some wonderful teachers we had who helped balance out the bad. I have great memories of some, Ms. Lerhaupt and Mr. Auburn and Mr. Kaikos are just a few…
You gotta take advantage of what advantages you can right? It’s a dog eat dog world out there, and I’m wearing milk bone underwear. One of my good friends went to school with me, We were both engineers. I was #39 out of 450, he was 12/450, I was on the student council, he was VP of said council… I ran track.. he was captain of the team. I recieved an “Engineering Honors” scholarship (which took me 2 years to lose, but that’s another story)… he didn’t? Was it fair? I don’t think so. Does it mean I should have given it back? Not all can stroke checks to reduce the deficit like Warren.
On another note, stuff like this happens everywhere. I was in Harris Teeter in Shirlington on Sat night and noticed that there were 2 Vietnamese people working in the store. Both were making sushi. Although I love a good dragon roll… most FOB Vietnamese hate sushi..my dad gags when he smells it. Talk about typecast….. you’re yellow… you go make the sushi.
FYI…call Mr. B and give him an earful…. or email him the link to your blog….
Lemme know when you wanna go rock the open mic at Whitlows… we can pretend we are 25 and live in Clarendon….
But see what you said, Luan? The assumption that was by being asian I was there because of my race.
In all honesty, I never checked off the race portion of any application, fearing being indian would hurt me because there are so many of us in higher education institutions. Also – I DID deserve it. My friend was awesome, but so was I. There were a lot of areas where we were equal or I was better or she was better. I won’t go into that too much, but the assumption was – you got the chance, don’t question it, right?
Dude stop doing silly things while maggie is away. put the cookies DOWN.
Kiran
Since the 3rd grade (not an exaggeration) my dream was to go to Stanford. It was all I talked about and worked my butt off to be able to apply. When it came time to apply I didn’t because my guidance counselor told me I’d never get in. I never applied but I did get into another very good school. I always wonder what would have happened had I applied. I may have been rejected but I don’t know. I’m considering a master’s program there and won’t be knocked down from trying!
You better go for it this time, alex. if you fail, fail because you tried. And if you tried, than you really never failed. Having the guts to take the leap of faith is its own success.
I hope you kick ass. “You are a rock star. You can do this.” and I hope you live your dreams.
Kiran
I can’t believe he said that in front of you!! How rude. And callous. And disrespectful of you as a person and of all your efforts.
I’ve pretty much given up on college for my kids. By the time they’re old enough, it will cost more than a house, and there won’t be any jobs available if they did go. I just hope I can instill a good work ethic and good skills. My oldest is a whiz with computer stuff, so maybe he can get some scholarships based on that and go to work in some type of software design. But I think eventually, the only hope for the kids of this country is to have companies stop requiring a degree for anything beyond sweeping the floor.
Aw Pippi – we are not so far out – your kids can go to school if they want on merit scholarships or get a non-traditional education in a trade they love. There is something so amazing about those years at university, if they don’t drink and party them away of course, but even that is its own education. Kids of this country have way more chances than many children of the worlds, who can’t even get drinking water. We just have to be creative if the system does not allow – and I still think there is opportunity though.
But if your kids want to sweep the floor, especially to give you a break, tell them to feel free. Just after they study for their SATs
Kiran
What a story, and sadly one that’s familiar, to me, too. My husband tells the story of how when he was sixteen one of his teachers told him he would never make it to university.
Ours is a different system here in Australia. People as a rule do not compete to get into college or leave home to do so. In any case, the words of that teacher/vocational counselor have stayed in my husband’s head but they have not stopped him getting a masters degree, and getting to the top of his field in law.
I suspect there is a degree of envy of the young that can prompt such comments from teachers. They might imagine they are protecting people from disappointment, whether you or your friend, but I think they are perhaps more miserably based than that. Self-protection.
It’s good to meet you here Masala. Needless to say, I’m new to your blog and all the way from Australia.
Elizabeth – I am so glad that your husband was able to get past that and move on. Some of us take it as a sign to push harder, but sadly – its so often that those words are enough to really crush an impressionable kid – especially if they are not necessarily being built up at home.
I agree – its a bit of jealousy of the young but its so misguided. Don’t take our your repressed rage on people who look to their teachers for wisdom and knowledge. Throughout high school, I felt like there were some teachers who still just wanted to get in with the popular kids, like 30 years too late.
How pathetic.
Lovely to meet you from many oceans away
Kiran