This is a true story.
About a month ago I was reading a short story with my freshmen Pre-AP kids. We had been working pretty diligently for the class period, but I really did not see the point in starting a new chapter, discussion, etc. so close to the bell. I announce to the class that there is no way that we can finish today. And then I hear it. A kid that is way too smart for his own good says, "Not with that attitude, Ms. Son!" He was funny, and this has since become his tag line. I would be lying if I said that it had not become mine as well.
Then, about two weeks ago I was at a conference in Austin. I was coming out of the last session of the day and my eyeballs literally hurt. As I turned my phone back on, I see an email in my inbox from a program that seemed pretty nonspecific. I open the email, and it's from NYU. I had already gotten quite alright with not getting into graduate school, but I won't lie; NYU was my top pick. The day I got that rejection letter, I pretty much sank in a hole for 24 hours. So, you can imagine how shocked I was to get an email from NYU telling me that I was being considered for another program... one that feeds into doctoral program(s).
Now, the more I read about it, swallowing and digesting every last bit of information I can find about this program, the more I understand just how naive I had been about applying for graduate school this past fall. Maybe there are no accidents; I've never really been a huge believer in fate, or destiny, or the universe dropping big hints in our laps... But, for about 72 hours, I started to get a little superstitious about "what does it all mean" in regards to this opportunity.
But after that, I just kind of went on living my life.
I mean, yes I would love to live in New York, and I want this. Bad. But I seriously considered just sitting on the invitation as means of recapturing some of the pride that I lost this fall. Just chalk it all up to a lesson I've learned about bravado and bullshit, (mainly that I need to lose both), and not put myself out there again.
And then I thought, "What a coward."
I started to think about regret. People might tell you that there is dignity in regret and that we all grow from our mistakes... yeah, it's crap. All of it. Regret is for people that would rather hold their pride close to them like their mother's dress or a wooby. What I would like to say to those people is, "How brave do you think you are? Now how brave do you hope others think you are?" Because the truth is: regret is for cowards.
I have regrets... but I hope that the majority of them stem from situations that make sense only because I have information now that makes them illuminate something that was once dark, cryptic. I don't wear them like badges of honor. I don't wear them as a scarlet letter, either. I just refuse to knowingly engage in decisions that I can actually see the regret in foresight, rather than hindsight and then have the audacity to lie to myself and say, "I'll be a better person for it. It's better this way... the not knowing" That is when you immediately go from sincere to full of shit. "Who are you kidding?"
This is a question I ask myself constantly.
So I sent off the personal statement. Today, in fact.
Because here's the thing: it doesn't matter if I get in or not. What matters is that I'm not embarrassed or ashamed anymore if I do or don't. I don't care who knows that I applied a second time around. I don't care who knows that I applied to seven graduate schools this fall and was rejected by all of them. And if I don't get into this program, then that will be just fine, too. Because this time I'm not going to make excuses or apologies. For anything.
So maybe I don't get in. Or maybe I do. I just couldn't let my pride get the best of me this time around, knowing that I would always regret, and that I would never be able to fully convince myself that I was justified in taking pride from my cowardice. I'm not going to take that hard road out of fear and pat myself on the back for being so brave to walk away from something so amazing. Because if I did, there would be this cutting voice of a fifteen year old in the back of my mind shouting, "Not with that attitude, you won't."
And the real pain-in-the-ass realization: the fifteen year old is right.
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My first MCAT score was a 19. The avg is 28 and the highest score possible is a 40. 5.5 years ago, I applied to 7 Texas medical schools with my 19 and didn't get an interview for any of them. "I just wasn't smart enough" is what I told myself. I didn't know what to do.
ReplyDeleteWhat I wanted wasn't working out the way I thought it should. I was frustrated and praying constantly for peace because the unknown
freaked me out. I had no definite plan B. One of my profs that I was doing research under wanted me to apply to grad school. I resisted
because I didn't want it. I showed up one week and he told me I had a meeting with a representative from UNTHSC to talk about applying to grad school. The day came and I went, upset that this may be my future, even though I hated research and didn't want to grow another tube of E. coli ever again...and the guy talking with me started in on the different programs. I explained to him how I didn't make it into med school and my 19...and med school was my goal, but I didn't know how I could get in. He then told me about the post-bac program...a year of grad school, make a 3.5 gpa and a 20 MCAT score and you are guaranteed an interview at TCOM. AND, turns out, he was on the
admissions board for the program. Well, I waited for the letter with peace that whatever the outcome, God knew what would make me the
happiest and that's what I wanted. I was ok with not going to med school, I was ok with staying put, I was ok with God being enough.
Then, I got in. 6 weeks later, I was living alone 6 hours away from my comfort and in a big city. I still wasn't for sure going to med
school, but my chances were better, and I re-took the MCAT scoring a 20-the minimum requirement; I looked back and saw how God had been present when I didn't know it, even with my 19. Hardest academic year of my life. Hardest year socially. But, best year spiritually. I was discipled by a great group of believers who prayed with me, studied with me, and entertained me when I had time. I made a 3.6, interviewed, and waited for 6 weeks for a decision from the school. Again, I had to come to terms with, "God is enough. God is all I need." The call came on memorial day 2007 while I was in my driveway
preparing to go throw horseshoes at the beach. I thought back to all the times I felt like an illiterate idiot, especially compared to classmates who were way smarter than me, and how God directed every move and every stop. I lived in the unsettling feeling you have when you don't know what your next move is when what you want doesn't happen like you think it should for a little over 2 years. It was a constant struggle with me and God as he was teaching me to trust in him because he's way bigger and is controlling all this earth stuff going on. I say all this to say, I understand the feeling. I
understand the frustration of the unknown future. But, rest in Christ. Let him lead because you don't know where or to what He's
directing you to. I didn't. I honestly thought I wasn't good enough. Truth is, I wasn't...I am not, still. But, God is through me. There are no regrets when you commit to God and where He takes you...because you are glorifying Him in all you do. And, that, is good enough. That
is our purpose. I glorify God with my 19 and 20 MCAT scores. People are shocked when they hear about my 19.