The University of California, Berkeley is undoubtedly one of the most prestigious schools in the nation. I mean, ask anyone and theyâll agree. Going here means youâre that much closer to discoveries, Nobel Peace Prize winners, and highly intelligent squirrels. Yet, I hadnât heard about the school until my high school senior year teacher told me to send in my application to UC Berkeley on the day applications were due. In an attempt at joking, I did so, but I didnât expect such a joke to solidify my future as an Urban Studies student, as a Cal Bear, and as someone beyond grateful to study at the No. 1 public school in the nation.Â
Like most families, my mother and father both had schools they had dreamed of their children attending. For my mother, that school was the University of California, Los Angeles, and for my father, it was a combination of Harvard University and Stanford University, although Harvard was more of a joke because, to this day, he doesnât know the campus is in Massachusetts. These three schools are all I heard about growing up, and I canât deny that Stanford to me was the end goal: it was my dream school, my aspiration, and I knew that from my early school years and onward that that was what I was working towards.Â
Fast forward to the September application season, and I had quite the list of schools I was applying to, ranging from New York University to California Polytechnic University, Pomona. Obviously, I additionally applied to UCLA and Stanford, hoping to get into either. Being based in California, my high school placed a high emphasis on applying to UC schools; to Californians, they are like the mini Ivy League schools. So when my English teacher asked me which schools I was applying to, and he didnât hear me mention UC Berkeley, it almost seemed like I had done some act of injustice. He then urged me to apply before the deadline that night, emphasizing how accredited the school is in California and the nation, which I found very ironic, as I had never heard of the school beforehand. So, almost as a joke, I applied to UC Berkeley hours before the application window closed, just for the sake of my teacher.Â
As I entered March, application results had begun to slowly roll out for the UCs, CSUs, and a few miscellaneous schools. Most importantly, though, were my âholy trinity:â UCLA, the University of Southern California, and Stanford. I had essentially committed to these schools, so if I got into any, I would be more than willing to go. USC had released first, and is known for only accepting or denying applicants, so I knew I had a 50/50 chance of getting accepted. And as I didnât see confetti, I knew I was rejected. Fast forward a few weeks, and a similar occurrence happened: UCLA had waitlisted me. At this point, I knew there was a 50/50 chance of me getting into a dream school, Stanford.Â
Unironically, UC Berkeley and Stanford release decisions one day apart, with UC Berkeley on the last Friday of March, and Stanford the next day, Saturday.Â
In another moment of humor, I had no care in the world about whether or not I got into UC Berkeley. So much so that I opened my decision right after finishing a brutal AP Calculus AB test with the intention of worsening my rainy day. You could only imagine the confusion on my face when I got in, and my calculus teacher started congratulating me. I almost immediately started googling this school, only to be hit in the face with #1 this and the best in the nation that. I had suddenly realized that I actually accomplished something big without intending to. My waitlists and rejections seemed irrelevant now, along with my brutal AP Calculus AB test.Â
Still, I wanted to wait to hear from Stanford, which by this metric was only 24 hours away.Â
Fast forward those 24 hours, and I sit in my bed anticipating the result. I got in.Â
Much like the phrase, I could feel the stars aligning; everything I had dreamed for came true, and all my hard work finally paid off. I was practically itching to send in my deposit as a signal of my commitment to Stanford. But then I remembered yesterday, I felt so much relief and acceptance into a world I hadnât even known existed, and yet I felt more connected to.Â
I canât quite remember the days afterwards, but I do remember dropping an $80 deposit into my Berkeley portal, and scouring Depop for Berkeley merch.Â
Iâm not a believer in faith; if anything, I think people make choices and set a path all on their own, without some astrological being or the world crafting this journey for them. But it feels like fate that I got into UC Berkeley, just because a teacher told me to apply. No stress about getting in, no tears if I didnât, and no pressure from external beings. In a world of Stanfords and UCLAâs, be a UC Berkeley, where you can excel and succeed without even really knowing how much youâve succeeded.