<p>Hello everybody, as you can probably tell this is my first post. I've been lurking for some time, and I have finally emerged to bounce an idea off of the many intelligent parents that use this forum.</p>
<p>Before we reach the actual idea (Even though I'm sure that some of you have surmised what it may be due to the title, but bear with me.), I'm going to share some background information so that you can see where I'm coming from.</p>
<p>I'm graduating from high school this year like many others across the nation. I have filled out a few applications and sent them off, and in the coming weeks I expect to send out a few more. Over the past few years, I have taken all the honors and AP courses that I could, and simply performed in a rather mediocre manner while in them. I've had a bit of a rocky ride through high school. When I started out I got decent grades, I finished Freshman year with a 3.7. Then, due to my own lack of self-discipline I received a 2.6 Sophomore year. Junior year I rebounded a little with a 3.1. The issue, it seemed, was that I had managed to develop very bad habits when it came to school work. Things simply wouldn't get done, and time and opportunities would slip through my fingers due to my immaturity. </p>
<p>During Junior year I experienced my first real failure. Of course I had failed in the past, my grades stand as a testament to that, but I brushed those failures off as the result of my lack of effort. I thought, "I could've succeeded if I wanted to, but I did not want those successes, I was focused on other things. And so, it is only logical that I would fail." This placed my failure within terms that I could accept. After all, I assumed that it no failure could be that great if it was intended, and if it could have been avoided. But, I would soon find failure at the hands of my terrible habits. </p>
<p>I applied to TASP. I had read about it on this site as well as other places, and it sounded extraordinary. The deadline for the application drew near, and I read more and more about the program. I became more and more engrossed in what I surmised to be the perfect educational experience, the release from the tedium of high school that I had been looking for. And somehow, despite all of my fervor for the program, it ended being the week before the application was due. Midterms were in full force, and I panicked. It was if the deadline had sneaked up on me while I was enamored with learning more about the program to which it belonged. Even in this mode of seeming crisis, however, I found myself stalled. I justified putting off the application a little longer. I had to study for Midterms. I had just taken a Midterm. I was tired. I had to eat dinner. I had to sleep. I had to read. I had to hang out with friends. I had to play video games. I had to, I had to, I had to. </p>
<p>The TASP essays were ignored until two days before the postal deadline. With a rush of adrenaline I pumped out the six necessary essays. I was relieved, it was the day that the application was due, but the essays were rough, and needed much editing. So I labored for the rest of the day to finish editing those essays. I turned in the application to the post office across the street three minutes before it closed.</p>
<p>Time went on, I got an interview for TASP. And months later I found out that I was one of five wait listed guys for the program. I waited desperately for the next few months, hoping that some natural disaster would prevent one of the TASPers from attending and that I would be called up to fill their place. I held onto this hope until the day the program started. The next day I went to work, and I spent the rest of the summer bagging groceries and being irresponsible with my friends. </p>
<p>What hurt me about TASP was that I had wanted to go, I had wanted to succeed, and I had wanted to try on that application. I could not present myself with the excuse that I hadn't wanted that success. There was no ignoring that my failure was my own. It could not be shrugged off or placed to the side due to any number of conditionals. No. It had to sit front and center, and remind me that my immaturity, my lack of self-discipline, and my lack of self-motivation had caught up with me at last.</p>
<p>Up until that point I had managed to get by with minimal effort, and minimal acceptance of responsibility for my failure. I would coast in my classes, not turn in any homework, and then get an 'A' on the test and Midterm. I would win the State Debate Tournament by writing my speeches the night before. I would win the District Tournament by forgetting to bring my speeches and writing new one's on the car ride down. I was accustomed to success with little effort, and failure with little responsibility.</p>
<p>But my experience with TASP changed that. I knew that I had screwed up, and that I was a screw up. I knew that if I had invested anything at all into my classes in high school, I could've done just as well as my friends in the top 10%. They weren't intrinsically smarter or better than me, but they had their stuff together. They could sit down and do the work. I couldn't, or wouldn't, I don't know.</p>
<p>At the end of Junior year I received my SAT score: 2010. It was pretty good, but it probably would have been better if I had paid attention during the last three years of math classes. Or if I had done the homework related to grammar and sentence structure. If I had analyzed all of the articles for English the year before. But I don't know that, and I will never know that. Which is what irritates me when I look back: I'll never know what could've been if I had done what I was supposed to, instead of sleeping through life.</p>
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<p>Now that the absurdly long lead up to this idea is done (I should probably edit it, but it was an emotional flowing piece so I think that I'll leave it as it is to preserve some of its raw nature.) here's my actual idea: Say no to college next year.</p>
<p>I don't want to have the same thing to happen in college that happened to me during high school. I don't think that I have the maturity necessary to do as well as I want to in college. While I certainly know what I have done wrong, there is still a great disparity between the amends that I have made and those that I still have to make. Old habits die hard, and my lazy, undisciplined self is going to take a considerable amount of training in order to get into shape for the rigors of college.</p>
<p>See, I don't think that I'm ready for college. I think that I'll get there and then fail. Now don't get me wrong, I'm extraordinarily optimistic, which is why I'm asking this question here. I want to believe that when I get to college everything will work out, and that I'll be able to handle the workload, the social life, and the debt. I really do want to believe that, but there's this nagging part of me that says that fairy tales don't happen in real life. That despite all of my wishing and hoping, I'll snap under the pressure and my dreams will be crushed by the harsh nature of reality.</p>
<p>I think about that, and I worry that I'm right. I worry that once again I'll end up disappointing myself and others through my own ineptitude. Except this time, it'll be a disappointment that could cost tens of thousands of dollars, maybe more if we take away future earnings and opportunities missed.</p>
<p>I was already wary about the cost of college before. Taking on forty, fifty grand in debt simply seems unwise to me. And because I'm in no shape to receive any sort of real merit aid, or get into the schools that would meet all my need with grants, I've always been aware that I'm pretty screwed in terms of finances and college.</p>
<p>So back to the idea: Say no to college. I know what you're thinking, but it's only a temporary 'no'. In fact, this idea is more akin to a gap year than anything else. What I want to do is go to a good community college for the next two years, and then transfer to a college or university. Now, I've done some research, and there are definitely stellar community colleges out there that have transfer agreements with many great schools. On top of that I'll probably save money, as I'll still be eligible for need based aid when I transfer. And then there's always the upside that if I do really well, I could probably get into a better college or university than I am currently able.</p>
<p>I know that seems like a lot of conditional terms in relation to my future, which is why I want a reality check. Is this crazy? Am I being reasonable here? I just want to be careful, because I don't know anyone who's taking a gap year, or two. </p>
<p>My theory behind this is that it gives me the opportunity to mature out in the 'real world' and away from the safety nets of home, high school, and college. I'll be able to work on my self-discipline and other skills while accumulating college credit, and gaining experience on how to live and what not.</p>
<p>What I would like to know from you guys, outside of general opinions, is if the trade off is worth it. I mean, I can definitely get into a college next year, it won't be the best college ever, but it'll be a college. Is the college experience so great that I shouldn't miss a year or two of it? Should I just go to college and then try the whole 'sink or swim' thing there? Is this a middle of the road option? Are you only saying that it's a good idea because you think that I'm doomed for a life of mediocrity?</p>
<p>I'm really going out on a limb here and I could use some help.</p>
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<p>TL;DR Version:</p>
<p>-I lack self-discipline
-Is going to CC for two years a good idea?</p>