got accepted to UCSD and Berkeley
to be honest, had i opened my application information and found that id been declined i would have been disappointed, no matter how i might deny it, after all it is a benchmark of sorts, at least thats what i hear.
but, i did get accepted, and because of it i'm decidedly in favor of being honest, reinforcing my faith in keeping it real.
that is, unless keeping it real goes wrong...
Had you been my admissions reader
My academic record is largely mundane, demonstrating nothing of myself other than my ability to manage -decent to good- grades with little effort on my part. I would not dare try and attribute this mediocrity to anything other than my own indifference, because I held no excuses growing up. I’ve grown up in a largely affluent area of Southern California, received support from my parents, I attended good schools with, for the most part, qualified teachers, and was not targeted for any unusual teenage discouragement from my peers. I knew of the opportunities given to me, but could never fully motivate myself, not when I was so uncertain about what role I wanted in life, and who I wanted to be.
Often these lapses in motivation occurred after a downshift in my scholastic rigor. In 6th grade I tasted the difference of accelerated courses and performed very well, even after being alienated in a new school with no friends. In 7th and 8th grade, back with my previous peers, I was dumped into remedial courses, in all subjects, due to a clerical errors. I would not be rescued for some weeks, and when change finally came, it was too late. I was discouraged by classes intended for those needing close attention and allowed my performance to sharply drop off. 8th grade was much of the same, resulting in my first and only failure of a class, algebra. Highschool was much of the same, and I was discouraged once again, by slow moving courses, disappointing teachers, and a lot of teenage angst. However, I made it through the discouraging teachers and messy teenage relationships to something better, and for better or worse I think two disappointing years were just what I needed. My junior year I received the best teachers I’ve had in all my education, and they re-instated my faith in learning, and in myself. With knowledge of what passion for ones work can accomplish, I began to re-evaluate myself, and what I really wanted in life, rather than what I was supposed to want. This required time and effort on my part, but over those final years in highschool I more or less figured out what I wanted, and how I wanted to accomplish it.
I did not apply to any universities my senior year, a rather perplexing action to my friends and teachers, but it was the only action that seemed honest to myself. I did not want the typical dorm experience, instead I wanted to see where slackers, late bloomers, single parents, and frugal students start their education. Most campuses incorporate diversity, but nothing like a junior college, because the diversity that I have encountered has spanned beyond racial measure and into every facet of social distinction. Among the students at my highschool, as well as my friends, and myself, there was a prejudice against community colleges, as inferior institutions of learning with inferior professors, but, like many prejudices, this was entirely false. The people I met were overwhelmingly brilliant and colorful, and the professors capable and eager to teach. Perhaps this appears self righteous, but for me it felt necessary, to prove to myself, that different is not always wrong, and what is right for others is not always right for yourself.
My highschool physics professor taught more than just mechanics of the universe, he also dabbled in the mechanics of life, and more than anything he stressed the importance of doing what you love, in a manner you deem honorable. Regardless of how I feel about my past education, or the mediocrity of my adolescence, I’m happy knowing that I wouldn’t be where I am without it, and because of it I know where I want to be.