Good morning everyone!
My name is Stephanie, and I will be attending the U of Chicago next year. As you would expect, I’m unimaginably excited (!!! free milkshakes at Medici’s! New global studies institute! Looks like Hogwarts! etc), and cannot WAIT for September 
I thought I’d share my four-year journey with y’all, in the hopes that I accomplish two things: 1. Bringing down the “unattainability” of ivies and other top schools down a notch, and 2. encouraging you to see beyond the prestige, and look further into who YOU are…and THEN to worry about what school you’re going to.
First, let’s start with freshman year.
Freshman Year
I’m the perfect student, hands down. I have nearly straight A+'s in all my classes, and am involved in almost 7 clubs, including sports and volunteering. My favorite book is a detailed account of what it takes to get into an Ivy (“A Is for Admission”), and I have petitioned my principal and counselors to let me take advanced classes in the summer. I take online classes in the hopes that I can add it to my growing resume. I’ve watched “Ivy Dreams” and “Acceptance” ten times apiece. My friend group is small; I don’t have time to go out; I stay in and study most evenings.
I’m also kind of a pretentious you-know-what.
For some reason, I thought that acing an entry-level Bio test on photosynthesis would guarantee me admission into Harvard, and that skipping a year in foreign language would wow admission officers. But really, all it did was puff up my 14 year old ego.
Second semester finals arrive. I’m burnt out, and even though I literally get 96-100% on all my finals, I know I’m not studying as much as I should. The day after finals is over, I go home with my friend and we binge watch Parks and Rec.
Sophomore Year
I thought the fizzling out at the end of freshman year wouldn’t carry on to sophomore year–but surprise! This girl lacks motivation in everything. I still maintain straight-A’s, struggling a little with APUSH, but eventually getting a 5 on the exam, so I figure it doesn’t matter. I’m heavily involved in my sports, and start to garner a more varied social life. Now, I have (wait for it!) ~guy~ friends. Drama ensues. I hate gossip, but I do it anyways. I forget I have homework, do it at the last minute, and somehow manage to ace the test anyways. My mom and I fight way too much, but I’m nearly 16, and she knows nothing! She needs to get out of my life because I need to study.
I wear my Harvard sweatshirt everywhere, and talk too much about the Ivy League to the hard-working, middle class people in my small farm town. I take too many selfies. I’m still a you-know-what.
And then, it’s spring break. My mom finds an article about volunteering at an English as a Second Language tutor from 12 to 2pm every Tuesday. Since we have the next Tuesday off, I agree to go and see what it’s like (even though I’m super scared since I’ve never done anything like this before). I don’t think this is going to work out with my schedule at all, since it’s in the middle of the day on a Tuesday, but whatever, I’ll try it anyways.
I fall in love with the community.
I have never cried over someone’s situation before–I have dismissively shaken my head as I watch Syrian missile strikes on the news and have frowned at the charitable letters we receive in the mail, but I have never cried actual tears over a shaky Mexican mother of two as she explains how she crossed the border, and now is out of work. I had never felt injustice like when a Chinese student talked about how cold her hands got working in the freezers of a factory, and how she wished she had the confidence to ask her manager for better gloves. I started skipping lunch to tutor every Tuesday, and paid very close attention to the lessons in my Chinese and Spanish classes.
I decide to sign up to tutor junior year as well, even though I’m planning on taking 5 AP classes.
Junior Year
My schedule is messed up, and I don’t find out until it’s too late to change it, so I’m stuck with two study halls. I’m super upset–no college wants a student with two study halls her junior year! Right? To compensate, I add an independent study in last-minute. I have no idea what it will be on, but I decide that I’ll figure it out second semester.
My boyfriend is getting verbally abusive, and against my will my parents make me break it off. It takes me two months to realize how self destructive he made me. I decide to focus on myself for the year.
I’m still volunteering at ESL. I’m also becoming increasingly aware of a) how awful I have been to my mother, b) how pretentious I was, and c) that I’m extraordinarily lucky to have so much opportunity in my life, especially when witnessing the lack thereof in my ESL group. I start tutoring academics as well, and become vice president of a service organization.
I get a 32 on my ACT. It’s fine, not wonderful. I’m more worried about my AP tests in May. I get all 4’s.
Second semester comes, and suddenly I know what I want to do for my independent study. I’m still highly involved with ESL, and I start conducting research on how we can improve in-school ESL programs. I am in love with this work!
I realize I don’t want to be a doctor after high school, contrary to my parents’ wishes.
I present my research in front of the principal of our school, who asks for a copy. The presentation is almost an hour long, my paper is nearly 25 pages, and I have gotten no sleep. But by the end, I’m so energized that I decide to make my own club, and file the paper work on the last day of school.
I start a cheap community martial arts practice for students who are falling behind in the curriculum. I realize I’m smiling more, and that I haven’t thought about the ivy league in a while.
I apply to U Chicago’s Neubauer Adelante Summer Program, and against all odds, get accepted. I’m wary about leaving behind my growing martial arts practice for three weeks, but in the end decide that a fully-funded, college credit class from the U of Chicago is worth it. It is the best three weeks I have ever had in my life–I have made 30 new friends, been exposed to philosophy for the first time, and have fallen in love with the school.
I read “In Order to Live,” a book about the true story of a North Korean refugee. I decide to start learning Korean in the hopes of one day liberating girls like her, or perhaps helping them acclimate into other countries.
