You’ve just received your class schedule for your senior year of Foothill Technology High School and proceed through the line and you see your friends at the end. You want to go up and talk about the crazy trip you took last summer, but they’re already deep in a conversation about their college plans.
Blink. It’s the first day of school. You meet crazy (awesome) teachers like Captain Lindsey, dressed in a Star Trek captain outfit and advocating a Senior program called “Finish Strong.”
Blink. You’re frantically researching colleges online, as your parents nag you about “FAFSA this, scholarships that.” Blink. You’re going to your counselor with final questions about the CommonApp, collecting Letters of Recommendation, and scheduling FIRE meetings to tweak your personal statements to perfection. {sidebar id=65}
Blink. You swallow hard as you click the submit button, and your application flies away to an admissions office halfway across the county, or halfway across the country. Then, time starts moving slower and slower. Your heart skips a beat with each and every email you receive, and you frantically check the first text line to see if the words “Congratulations!” or “We regret to inform you” appear.
Life is seemingly in limbo, and as the days stretch, your parents are somehow still nagging you about scholarships. You are officially playing “The Waiting Game.”
Being a senior myself, I can speak from experience. Whenever I tell someone that I’m in my senior year of high school, I seem to always get this generic response: “Enjoy it while it lasts, it’ll go by in the blink of an eye!” However, I believe that they seem to have left out an extremely important part: “It’ll go by in the blink of an eye, UNTIL you start waiting for colleges to respond.”
Let me be clear: no one wants to play “The Waiting Game.” I liken it to a time when I was little and I asked my mom for a popsicle, and my mom replied, “Be good and I’ll give you a popsicle!” I knew I was in the running for a popsicle, but I never knew when exactly I would get it, or if my actions were considered “good” enough to actually get one.
Continuing with this analogy, the colleges are like moms with a limited number of acceptance popsicles, and the thousands upon thousands of applying students are kids like me vying for the delicious, cold treasures. Naturally, the more prestigious moms have better tasting popsicles, but there are always less of those available (why are there always more of the bad flavor?), and since so many kids want the better popsicles, the prestigious moms only give them to the kids who are being “extra good.” There’s a rule that you can only have one popsicle, so when a kid decides on one, he has to tell all the other moms of his decision. Some kids are lucky enough to get as many as ten popsicles, while many kids don’t get any at all.
Many seniors, including occasionally myself, see college applications with a more cynical perspective. We picture our precious applications falling into the hands of a bent over, crotchety, sneering old woman with a giant red stamp at her side that reads, “REJECTED.” We hear her saying, “This kid wants to get into my institution with these grades? Fat chance! REJECTED!”
Then, when we get the rejection letter back from University Z, we envision the old woman laughing maniacally, as she thinks about the sadness she has instilled into our hearts. Meanwhile, all our peers are preaching the “good news” on Facebook about getting into College X, University of California Y, and, to our despair, even University Z. Clicking the “like” button on that status is the second most disheartening thing one will ever do over the course of their senior year. And the first? Admitting defeat and signing up for community college (dun-dun-DUN!).
If you could only take one thing away from all this, let it be this: You, and only you, decide how to play the waiting game. You can spend it in a cynical mindset, anxiously awaiting a response from colleges, and after you rejoice for an hour when you receive your admission, you look forward only toward graduating and off to your fancy-pants college. I, however, urge you to play the waiting game in a different way: instead of waiting for the colleges to get back to you, enjoy your senior year and let them reply when they reply.
In the last seven months, I’ve gotten my license (first try!), been up at 1 a.m. way too often with some great people, told countless political jokes with my Republican friends, and even been up at Two Trees to watch the last sunrise of 2012 (It was like the opening scene of the Lion King when Rafiki holds up Simba to all the animals of the Pride Lands).
Captain wasn’t joking when she said we’d miss our little Foothill pond when we go off to college; some of the best memories I’ve made in my life have been while playing the waiting game, and there’s no reason for you or any senior at any high school to miss out on the opportunities laid before us. If Foothill has taught me anything, it’s that working hard and playing hard are essential for a successful and enjoyable time in high school, college, and even beyond.
Your colleges reply to your applications. Blink. You’re at Senior check out, joking with your friends about all the good times you’ve shared in these halls. Blink. You’re in your graduation gown with 237 of your closest comrades, with the rest of your friends and family cheering you on as you walk towards Mr. Bova to grab that diploma you’ve worked so hard for. With the paper in hand, you stop to savor the moment, and reflect on everything you’ve accomplished over the last 13 years that have led up to this moment. You close your eyes and think back to the moment when you first tasted that frozen popsicle, first sent that application, first stepped in line to pick up your schedule.
You’ve won the waiting game. And now, it’s time to play one more game: the twisted, wonderful, unpredictable, unexplainable thing called life. And the only person who decides how to play it is you.
