Natalie Yemenidjian
“We appreciate your interest in the University of California, Santa Barbara.
“We have evaluated your application for admission for the fall 2007 quarter and regret that we cannot offer you admission to UC Santa Barbara at this time.”
The letter was pleasant, yet patronizing; rejection usually is.
The obvious thoughts ran through my head: I just didn’t work hard enough to get in to UCSB. I guess I didn’t complete enough general education classes.
I fell short of what it takes to be an over-achiever, to do what it takes to be “successful.”
I may have not studied every night.
I may have made time for a life and a job.
Most of all, instead of meticulously plotting every class so that I could fill my IGETC before transfer, I took classes that I felt made me progress as a human being, not a well-oiled machine.
I’ve always believed that a well-earned C is better than an easy A.
How many people that have successfully transferred can honestly say that their fulfillment of IGETC was beneficial to their college careers?
The system of applying to colleges is so mechanical; it feels as though we are constantly trying to satisfy an invisible giant whose standards rise every year.
It has become a society where a three-lettered acronym determines whether you’re good enough for a prestigious education: GPA.
You cannot measure a person’s passion and determination in numbers; therefore, I render this system flawed.
Yes, me.
The same child who had trouble in school because of learning disabilities, but overcame them because she knew she could battle the odds.
The high school student who was told would never be a journalist because her place is in the home.
The same young woman who like so many of her peers, is constantly in some kind of conflict with herself and the sometimes-uncompassionate hand of the universe
I am no different than any of the other students in the “applicant pool,” as the Director of Admissions at UCSB so objectively refers to us.
I sought out no sympathy from them in my personal essay or anywhere in my application.
I understand their reasoning, but it does not mean I agree with it. That is not important though: I chose to be a part of this process to transfer, get a degree, the better job and the more comfortable life.
A teacher told me in my first semester that it’s “sink or swim” at Pierce. Only seven percent of students successfully transfer and that most of us don’t even understand its procedures.
At that time, I was certain that I would be included in that small percentage, but I was wrong.
I eventually have come to the painful conclusion that I must either ride the high tide, or get the heck out of the water.
()