Hi, I’m Vincent. I, along with Seth, started Access Point to try to provide students—especially those who don’t have access to resources and guidance—with some help in the whole college process. At this stage, I’ve done most of the programming (unless there’s a bug. Then it was Seth).
At the time of writing this, I am a senior in high school. I’m also a QuestBridge finalist who didn’t match. Part of QuestBridge’s contract is that you don’t apply anywhere EA/ED, so I am in the not-so-fun boat of having no idea where I’m going to college next year. I’ll probably write another post about my experience with QuestBridge as an unmatched finalist, but for now, I want to talk about how this whole situation has made me feel—and why I’ve grown to resent the month of February.
Beyond Ohio winters being awful and the NBA All-Star Game getting worse every year, I now hate February because of how anxiety-inducing it has been. February is purgatory.
You’ll have to excuse the religious allusion (I go to a Catholic school), but I have no better way to describe it. When I was a kid, I told my friend about his surprise birthday party because I didn’t want him to worry (a decade later, I now recognize this as a mistake). My battle against uncertainty was easy when my opponent was a Ninja Turtles birthday party, but college acceptances are much harder to beat.
I think waiting can be just as—if not more—difficult than a rejection.
A rejection, at least, gives you something concrete. It stings, sure, but it also provides closure. You can process it, adjust your expectations, and move forward. Waiting, on the other hand, is a constant barrage of “what if” scenarios in my head. It’s seeing an email notification and feeling my heart stop, only to realize it’s just another spam message from a college I never even applied to. It’s the tension of holding my breath every time someone asks, “So, where are you going next year?” as if I have some secret knowledge I’m refusing to share. At least with a rejection, I’d know.
While everyone else is picking out roommates, I’m stuck waiting.
When classmates are reposting their 2nd-grade friend's brother's dog's decision posts, I’m waiting.
When my friends are imagining the next chapter of their lives, I’m still waiting.
I still hate uncertainty, and the waiting hasn’t magically become easy. But I can at least tell myself:
"Have the courage to change what must be altered, serenity to accept what cannot be helped, and insight to know the one from the other."
For now, I wait.