On Tuesday I began my last year of secondary school, and so now (in theory) there can only be one thing that occupies my mind: college applications. In theory, I must be taking all my entrance exams, preferably repeatedly in order to achieve the highest score possible. In addition to balancing my six school classes (which are, of course, selected solely to appeal to the standard of rigour demanded by top-notch universities), I must fill the rest of my waking hours with club presidencies and both paying and volunteer jobs, in addition to actually researching universities and writing their applications.
Well, I'm not.
Call me insanely naïve, but I've got this ridiculous idea that there's still an American (or, for that matter, Canadian) university out there that might admit you just for the sort of person you naturally are, not for the person you pretend to be on a resumé. I took each of my entrance exams once, and got scores that were not perfect, but hardly anything to be ashamed of. Had I decided to retake them, I might have done better — but I decided it's not worth my time. I'm taking three challenging classes — but also three easier ones, which I chose because I love the subject matter and did actually want to have some fun in my last year of school. I quit my paying job because the demands on my time right now are too great, and I'm not worrying overmuch about that elusive category of 'leadership'. I'm just filling in my applications as someone who has fun learning, not racking up test scores and leadership positions, and this weird hope in me is persisting in thinking that there must be some institution out there that will care about me. Wouldn't it be nice to then be able to prove everyone else wrong?
Anyway, I'm back to yet another application essay. The 20 September issue's copy is due by 16 September, but until then, please enjoy this edition of The Post!
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