As I’m navigating my academic journey and balancing my extracurriculars with my social life at Cal, I rarely stop to look around and take everything in. I don’t take the time to appreciate what I have and the beauty that surrounds me, as well as the people that I adore. But on this week celebrating Thanksgiving, I want to take a moment to indulge in gratitude and describe how content I am, as many others probably are to be in the position they are right now.
As a little girl, I had always dreamed of going to college. It didn’t matter the major or location to me as a seven-year-old, I just wanted to obtain an education and make my family proud. Specifically, my mother, who profusely worked to give me the education she could never get and always desired. But as I got older and understood more of the prestige of schools and the difficulty of getting accepted into certain universities, my dreams started to look like what I imagined, just dreams that I wouldn’t be able to accomplish.
My dream school and the idea of attending it was becoming diminished as a fifth grader. The University of California, Berkeley had become the school I wanted to attend after watching High School Musical 3, as the prestige of the school was clear and the research on the school I had done displayed how excellent this academic institution was.
As I got older, however, I became less and less wishful that this would be my future school. As the acceptance rate dropped, so did my hope. The years flew by, and as a high school student, the idea of even applying to the UC’s was a reach, let alone applying to the most prestigious UC and public institution in the world.
When I submitted my application, my heart dropped and the sweat in my palms intensified my nervousness. The idea of being rejected from certain schools would shatter my intellectual capacity, or at least the idea of it, and what I could handle. As time passed, my anxiousness increased and the decisions started coming out. Some acceptances were released and I was thrilled to be in somewhere. But, as some rejections were released, my soul and joy became bruised. How could four years of endless homework and energy-wrenching extracurriculars all be for nothing? What would my mom think of me if I couldn’t get accepted into any prestigious schools? Various questions flooded my mind. My hopes were low when Berkeley’s admission decisions came out.
Everyone at school was talking about the nervousness and excitement of whether they would be accepted, but I was unphased and unenthusiastic for the decision to come out. To mentally prepare myself for the rejection I expected I was about to face, in my mind I had already begun envisioning the email with the words, “I regret to inform you.”
As the day passed by I was actually doing fine and had accepted the idea that I wasn’t going to be accepted to my dream school. I repeated to myself the fact that I would be okay and continue with my life. But my heart still dropped when I heard a notification and saw that it was from Berkeley’s admissions office. I was finally ready to open it and then be politely declined admission from what I had worked so hard for since fifth grade.
I opened the email and saw the confetti, and instantly my watery eyes read the blurry words congratulating me on my acceptance. My heart was racing and my screams could be heard from my neighbors. All I had worked for was genuinely worth it!
To this day, I am forever grateful for what I and many students were able to accomplish — admission to a highly renowned institution and the place I call home. I am filled with gratitude knowing that my fifth-grade dream was completed and by the fact that I could continue my studies. Knowing that I have fulfilled my mom’s dream and that her desire for education is now being accomplished vicariously through me is a blessing. I will forever be thankful and happy that Berkeley is now my home, with my friends who I consider my second family supporting me and my academic drive being pushed to become exceptional.