Friday, December 20, 2013

"Hogwarts* (Midnight Writing)" by Percival Brendan Noble the Third

*Note: The name of the university in this essay has been changed. The writer didn't actually apply to Hogwarts.

Writing is a very time-specific thing, isn't it? If I wrote this 6 hours ago, it would've probably sounded different. Not that I am ever going to know because this is another subject that will be discussed on another day. I avoided that tangent very smoothly. Kudos to me.

I didn't get accepted to Hogwarts.

It hasn't gotten to me. With its acceptance rates in the single digits, I wasn't surprised. I don't know if I'm ready to completely push the school from my mind though. There's always going to be a Hogwarts t-shirt hanging in my closet that I'm never going to be able to wear ever again. I haven’t worn it since some inexplicit time in June. I've steered clear of all college t-shirts in general. It just seemed too presumptuous and jinxing.

The Dean of Admissions was very kind in the wording. They weren't able to offer me admission. It seemed to take the responsibility away from me. And I really appreciate that, especially given the extra load of responsibility life has decided to dump on me. The Dean attached an article that he wrote for the Los Angeles Times. He had three main points. I honestly do believe that the article squashed any notions of self-pity before they even emerged.

First, I didn't not get in because I wasn't good enough. I might have been among the applicants who met the demands of a Hogwarts education. But, it was just a matter of how many people Hogwarts could actually accept. Hogwarts's graduating class size is 1700, but they have about 40000 applicants every year. According to my calculations, that's an acceptance rate of about 4.25%. That doesn't even round to 10. Second, transitioning from high school to college is a monumental turning point. Instead of focusing on where that happens, everyone, including myself, needs to focus on how it happens. If I spend the next four years lamenting on how I’m not at Hogwarts, I’ve wasted them. And third, "Education is what the student makes of it." [Insert proper citation that I simply cannot do at this late hour of 1 AM somewhere in this vicinity]. I may not have been granted admission, but that doesn't mean my chances of ever joining the Hogwarts family are over. I might just end up there someday doing who knows what. Or I might never go there. But, regardless of where I end up, my life will still be fulfilling.

I am disappointed that I won't be able to go there for my undergraduate years. I've always been able to see myself flourishing there. But, I'm not bothered by it, and I'm not going to let me be bothered by it. I'm not going to be broadcasting this news over social media, but I am definitely going to tell some of my close(r) friends. One could say that I am much more terrified of upcoming Christmas gatherings. And please no hugs. Hugs are reserved for extremely happy moments or bawling-my-eyes-out-in-sadness moments. This moment is neither of those two.

As you can probably tell, this post was just my progression of thought at 1 AM, as are all my other writings that are personal and about me. I seemed to have taken this first college letter quite well, and I hope my reactions stay this way.


Good night.

No comments:

Post a Comment

"What makes a house a home?" by Miranda Torres-Alba

Many would say some type of affection or adoration of the physical house. Those grand four walls encasing memories and a type of motherly l...