<p>Disclaimer: Please excuse my grammar mistakes, if any, and any tense shifts. It was truly a stream-of-consciousneess</p>
<p>Hello everybody,</p>
<p>I am writing to you on this gorgeous Saturday afternoon because I thought I would go crazy otherwise.</p>
<p>Since March 19th, I have been rejected by 8 colleges, with calibers (that I personally assigned) ranging from SUNY Binghamton to UChicago. I have been waitlisted by Fordham and of much bigger surprise value, Wake Forest--only because I expected a straight up rejection. I have 5 more schools to hear from, but with names like NYU and USC headlining the list, I'd be a fool to say that I don't have anything to worry about.</p>
<p>Why have I been rejected by so many places?</p>
<p>I am not your typical CCer. From my limited time spent on here since first wandering onto here in October of 2009 in the aftermath of the dreaded SAT exams, I have seen enough 4.0s, 2350s, and Presidents of school clubs to fill a large auditorium many times over. In addition to those, I am sure there are many more, for I am truly sorry to say that scanning through credentials of fellow CCers is not a hobby I hold in high regard.</p>
<p>I have about a 3.0. With due respect to other holders of 3.0's, I do not believe that my average is representative of my abilities as a scholar. I am not stupid. What I am, however, is a victim of my own apathy. Due to a persistent combination of familial inclemency and emotional and spirtual confusion, my high school career has not been what I wanted it to be. Noooo, far from it. If anything, the direct opposite. </p>
<p>For much of my freshman and sophomore years, high school was both an asylum and a chore. My father has been unemployed and therefore has stayed home for every day of the year since 2004, so putting up with his nonsense at home was not an option. I went to school everyday, but I did not do much there. My time in school were occupied by either naps in classes despite adequate sleep, or stares at my teachers with what must've looked like a totally blank expression imprinted on my face. My ears picked up just enough information for me to maintain solid 80-85 test averages, and that usually meant I would get a 80 overall in the classes. That was good enough for me, because all it meant was that I passed. I neither envied nor was I jealous of people who scored in the upper 90s.</p>
<p>I go to Stuyvesant High School in New York City. I think it is nationally ranked; I forget the exact position because it is hard for me to take pride in personally. I got in solely because I passed the SHSAT in 8th grade, and only barely so. Stuyvesant had a cutoff of 560 the year I took it; I had a 564. It doesn't mean I was on the low end intelligence-wise for a Stuyvesant student. As much of an excuse as it may sound, I did not study for that test--a behavior that will follow me throughout my high school career. In fact, the few weeks preceding the exam were marked by an obstinate refusal to study in an effort to diffuse some parental pressure. They always said "if you don't study, you can't play video games." They still do. I have always responded with "OK I won't play video games, but I won't study either. You can't make me." I still do.</p>
<p>My indifference towards school must be at least partially tied to the enmity I have towards my parents. If I were to tell you why and what events led to the hatred, this would turn into an autobiography--the printout of which would stretch to California and back. To me, doing well in school because my parents wanted me to would have meant that they had won. Estrangement from my parents had other ramifications. On occasions, tensions were so heavily stirred that I didn't come home for several days at a time. I didn't have anywhere else to go either, so I spent my time aimlessly wandering the streets of New York. My stress levels were off the charts--and not the kind of stress you would hear from kids who complain about some English paper that their teacher made them write. I had to find one avenue to channel it all away, and school was the only other road constructed. </p>
<p>I just didn't have it in me; I hated school. I didn't care about any of the subjects I was being taught, and if I had to give my humble opinion, anybody who says that they throughly enjoyed all of their subjects is either a saint or lying. I never did homework; consequently, the few things I said in classes were almost entirely based off my own sentiments. </p>
<p>Junior year rolled around, and some people told me that it was the most pivotal year of all. Of course, my habits were inveterated so deeply that they were hard to shake free of. My Junior Year average was a 3.5 or so, which is still a considerable feat in my school. What one must understand is that about-faces are never immediate but gradual. Junior year also brought the SATs, but much later for me than for others. I did not know of them until June of my Junior Year, when I first learned of SAT II's. The day I registered for the Chemistry SAT II, I was naive to think that the SAT II's were simply an upgrade of the SAT I. I took the Chemistry SAT II, and for the first time, I studied for it only because I knew that "passing" it was impossible otherwise. I did not do as bad as I had expected considering I was a year removed from the course.</p>
<p>Further research told me that the SAT I was not only necessary, but was also given more weight. I spent my summer working, so I did not study. I signed up for the SAT I in October of my Senior Year. I knew that it must be retaken because my CR score was atrocious. After a brief intermission to fulfill the SAT II requirements of many schools by taking the Math II, I took the December SAT I. When December 22nd rolled through, I did not see the improvement I seeked/expected. Of course, by that time, I was already preoccupied with doing my college essays and applications. Nevertheless, I had an ineffable instinct that I was 2400 material, partly because I had received recent scores despite lack of studying. In fact, I have never completed a practice test and my "studying" consisted solely of hard memorization of massive vocabulary lists, and, much to my teachers' chagrin, I only read them in class. My reasoning was that I could not have done it at home. I was right. At home, the vocabulary lists looked downright hideous compared with the prospect of mircowaving some popcorn to a Martin Lawrence movie. So, to satisfy my insatiable urge to see if I was indeed capable of a 2400, I persuaded my parents to pay for the January exam for I had already burnt my two SAT fee waivers. My Jan results are not important; few schools consider them anyway. If anything came out of the 3 takings of the SAT, it was that I was not stupid.</p>
<p>Extracirriculars also did not see much of my involvement. I would say that I'm decently talented in basketball, but I never pursued it. People around me were joining this club and that club, and I wondered if I should've done the same. I just was not interested in anything. One such club was started by someone who, like me, had a lot of free time. The club had an important-sounding title--that much, I'm willing to admit. However, a sit-in on of the club meetings made me realize that the members did not do anything except discuss random things and play random games. So much for "an organization designed to help others find opportunities." </p>
<p>As such, most of my time outside of school was devoted to jobs. As a son of two parents--one unemployed and the other struggling to make ends meet--who were unwilling and perhaps unable to provide for me beyond the most basic of necessities, I knew I had to find employment, and quickly. From craiglists requests of an assistant for the elderly to tutoring, jobs took an additional toll on me--both physically and mentally.
For as much as I worked and earned, I was perhaps a tad too prodigal. Granted, I had a good cause: I had to pay a vision therapist for treatment, but service ended abruptly because I had run out of funds. I could not think of a better way to have spent my money. But I should've planned it out so I could've been more efficient. Today, I am indigent. The amount of money readily available to me is staring at me in the form of 4 pennies that lie on the table to my left. I hate not having money. The struggle to convince my parents to pay my high school dues should be an interesting one. </p>
<p>People have asked me what I want to become. I'm not sure, but I am heavily leaning towards the financial industry because its positions(most of them) are high paying. As philistine as it may be, it is also not wrong. Sure, money isn't everything, but it is definitely something. And having less money, or worse, no money at all is never better than having more of it. Never.</p>
<p>So I place going to an esteemed college up there, a task of utmost importance. In a few days, I'll know exactly where I'll be going, and that place will most likely be CUNY Baruch. The real question is, am I going there? Or will I be relegated there? Doomed there, in both senses of the word? Do not misunderstand me: I am not saying I am above CUNY Baruch, because that simply isn't true. However, I have long viewed college as a vindicator, a liberator that will free me from the tumultuous mess that I am and have been in. I have dreamt, both during sleep and while I am awake, of stepping into a conjured image of the USC or UChicago campus. I felt a sudden rush of euphoria that was too real to be surreal, too heavy to have only been mental. Then a few days ago, I set foot into the Baruch building to take its exam. I immediately felt a sense of melancholy, of hopelessness. Going to Baruch for a year will be like repeating senior year of high school: everything that can go wrong will, and every last bit of hope and joy will be wrenched out and stomped until it is no more. I don't remember September of 2009 at all. I would like to transfer, but that is never a sure thing. I might fail in that endeavor as well, after which I will probably be stuck in Baruch for 4 years. If I consider September 2009 to be a long time ago, how distant do you think September 2006 seems?</p>
<p>I would like to think I have gotten my act together. I read vocab and idiom lists not because I have to do so to study for the SATs but because it can prove to be nothing but beneficial. I read textbooks on social sciences not because I must read them in order to be prepared for the AP exams but because I truly enjoy them. But it may be too little too late.</p>
<p>Though I have applied to a bunch of colleges, there are a lot more that I would like to attend but will probably never get the chance to. I have always wanted to go to somewhere like Columbia, or UPenn, or, dare I say, Harvard. I didn't apply to any of them, because I had to be realistic. However, I have an inextingushable belief that I am destined for great things.</p>
<p>As a 17 year old surrounded by other 17 year olds, I don't think I am in a position to judge others. I have an mystical impression of a certain set of intangible that one must have to succeed at the highest level possible. I don't think any of my classmates have it. But they are in, and for the first time, I envy them.</p>