The Joys of College Admissions Essays (not) and What NYU has Done for ME.

I'm not a good writer. I can't easily make one sentence flow to the other, and, while my sentences are free of spelling and grammatical errors, they lack substance and zing. It's funny to observe just how much my style has diminished throughout the years. From the time I was three years old, til I was about thirteen, I wanted to be an author when I grew up. In school, I was treated like a prodigy when it came to writing. Unfortunately, that didn't last. In junior high, I switched my focus over to music (specifically John Mayer). From that, I picked up a guitar and banged around on a keyboard. I wasn't able to afford lessons for myself, so I did what seemed practical enough: I taught myself. Again, for whatever reason, this was seen as impressive, and I was treated as a prodigy. But as time went on, my interest in music dwindled.

In high school, I didn't write for fun, and I barely picked up an instrument. My life literally was centered around friends and the computer. But hey, that's high school for you. I was treated like a prodigy concerning my schoolwork, too. Oh, sure, the classes I take aren't exactly a walk in the park, but I barely put effort into them, and I'm not at the very top of my class.

Well, my point is that I wanted to write back when I was a kid. Every writing assignment I turned in during elementary school was my best work, and it paid off. Now I dread sitting down to write a blog. Similarly, I wanted to play guitar and piano. I would sit in my room practicing for hours and hours upon end until I got whatever concept I was trying to learn down perfectly. Now I can barely play for more than ten minutes at a time.

High school came, and I didn't want things like I used to. I didn't know what I wanted. I didn't know what to try for. Money seemed more important. Schoolwork seemed less so. It was a dull, depressing life, and I had a lot of downs during my freshman and sophomore years. The PSATs (practice test for the SATs) were a joke, and I went into them on three hours of sleep. I subconsciously checked off a box to have my scores sent to colleges, and within months of doing so, my mailbox was stormed with floods of letters on a daily basis. They were all from colleges, and while I knew their interest wasn't directed at me personally, I was still flattered. So I opened letter upon letter and read the opening lines. That was usually as far as I got.

Millersville: "We want you at our school! Come visit."
Drexel: "We hear you're a high achieving student."
Penn State: "Here at PSU, we look for students just like you!"
Franklin & Marshall: "Are you looking for a school with renowned professors, great academic opportunities, and unique campus life? Then F&M is right for you!"
New York University: "I'll be honest with you -- NYU isn't for everyone."

Wait...what was that last one? You mean you aren't one-hundred percent certain that you want me at your school? To be perfectly honest, I had intended since junior high to just go to Millersville or Penn State because they were cheap, and I could live at home. I didn't aspire to travel anywhere cool, let alone to New York City. But for some reason, I really, really liked the sound of NYU.

I went online, checked it out, and I found that I had the right GPA and courseload, but my SATs were predicted to be way lower than NYU's range. Also, the tuition was 50k a year -- way more than I could ever afford. I almost gave up on any ambitions to attend the school until I mentioned those three letters, which now roll off my tongue on a daily basis, to Tina's mom. I told her all the reasons why I could never attend, and she nearly smacked me in the face. "Are you crazy? NYU is the PERFECT place for you! You deserve that school, Elizabeth. So your SAT scores aren't the highest. They have enough kids with perfects. They need someone like you.And as for the cost...don't even worry about money if that's where you want to be." And that day in February, Tina's mom sparked the fire which has dimmed and flickered from time to time but has yet to go out.

I'm not going to write a blurb about all the amazing things that NYU is. What I am going to write, though, is how grateful I am that the Office of Admissions sent me that letter. For the first time in two and a half years, I really want something.

What I really like about wanting admission into NYU, what's really different about truly wanting something this time around, is that it's not easy for me. I don't have all the stats needed for NYU, and I probably still won't by the time I apply. It's quite the reach away, but I'm willing to jump for it, and that's what'll make it worth it in the end.

So far, I've worked hard to familiarize myself with the SATs (which is A LOT better than going in blind, trust me). I didn't study for them, but I learned what to expect on them. I scored above average with a 1950, just barely in NYU's range. It won't get me in, but it gives me a chance, plus I have an opportunity to get my score higher in October. I've also managed to convince my mom not only to visit NYU but to accept the fact that New York City is where I want to be. This was a remarkable feat, and major props go to her for being so understanding. I've gained a lot of respect for my mom over the past six months.

I'm excited and scared for application time this fall. Screwing up my apps or my essay is not an option. The essay is what worries me the most, especially, because I absolutely cannot write. I can't tell the admissions officers through written expression why I'm the kind of person that NYU was made for. I don't know how to explain my extracurriculars or how I'd change the world with a five dollar bill. So in conclusion to this long, tangent-filled post, I'm just going to say that, despite my lack of confidence in my writing skills, I am determined to pull things together and figure out a way to make it work. I'll be damned if I've come this far to have it all ruined by a stupid essay.