After seventh period Spanish class a couple Fridays ago, I walked into the George Washington mailroom to do two things. First, to watch my favorite television show, Lou Dobbs this Week. Second, to check my mailbox. My usual routine was greatly disrupted when I checked my mailbox. Besides the usual things, like The Phillipian, fan mail from my admirers and packages containing expensive items, there was also a letter with my full name and the Phillips Academy seal on the upper left-hand corner. My first instinct was that of fear. My skin turned stark white, which has nothing to do with me being scared, I’m just what most people call “pale.” I trembled as I opened the letter, and when a sheet of paper fell out, I was terrified. What? They didn’t just send me an empty envelope to freak me out? I managed to collect myself and unfolded the paper. Next, I laid my eyes on the most mentally crippling sentence I had ever read: “I am writing to inform you that the department of History and Social Science will not grant you permission to enroll in History 340 (European) this coming year.” I stood in a dazed shock. I didn’t get in. I suddenly collapsed in a sobbing heap, immediately wondering what would become of my life. My hopes and dreams were crushed. My life was spoiled. I made a pained cry of anguish: “I’M RUINED! NOOOOOO(inhale)OOOOOO!” After 15 minutes of continuous wailing, I brought myself to clutch the letter again and read on. As the letter spoke of performance on things like the History Qualifying Test, as well as the SSAT, I began to ponder the reasons why I hadn’t been accepted into the course. Here are a few of my explanations: The Essay Maybe I shouldn’t have ignored the given essay topic. Maybe I shouldn’t have written my essay about why Scooby Doo is anti-American. Maybe I shouldn’t have put an untimely and uncalled for “That’s What She Said” joke in my thesis. The SSAT What should being in the 13th percentile have to do with anything academic? Last time I checked, that’s only 12 spots away from being number one. The Grades Even if I did get 2’s in my first two terms of History 100, how should that indicate that I am an unqualified history student? Yes, I may have set one hundred cockroaches loose in my history classroom. And kind of remember rebutting a point in a debate by replying, “Oh yeah? Well, your parents don’t love you!” I know now that those were, shall we say, “inefficient” means of padding my 340 resume. I did manage to talk to a few kids who had been accepted into the course, and many of them actually maintained a “strong academic record” and “good SSAT scores.” I discovered that I’m not like them. Unlike actual smart people, I can bring something different to the History 340 table of wisdom, and that is a new perspective on European history that I feel is innovative and fresh. I say, who cares about Europe anyway? If it’s not America, why should we care? Some of these “Europe advocates” might start spewing unpatriotic propaganda about how European history offers a better perspective on history as a whole, or how what happened in Europe is an important precursor to learning about American history. My response? “Oh yeah? Well, your parents don’t love you!” To conclude, I’m not quite as crushed as I was that day in the mailroom, but the memories of that letter still haunt me each day. I think I’ve come to terms with what’s happened, and I’ve begun to accept the fact that people here are better than me at absolutely everything, history being only one area. But that essay was so awesome…
