The Real 'Why' of Going Ivy

I remember the moment that I found out I had gotten into Princeton like it was yesterday. I had just gotten home from gymnastics practice, and I was sitting in our family office in my gymnastics leotard as my family was anxiously hovering over my shoulder awaiting the big news. For the first time in my life, I really didn’t have high expectations, but there was a tiny glimmer of hope that had me on the edge of my seat as I logged-on to the Princeton admissions website. While all I really expected from the Princeton admissions department that evening was for them to wish me luck on my future endeavors, when I opened the admissions decision, I saw a big orange and black tiger on the screen – and under it, an orange headline that said CONGRATULATIONS.  I was frozen. I had absolutely no idea what to think, aside from the fact that there was inevitably a glitch in the system and I had gotten another awaiting student’s admissions decision instead of my own.  Refresh. Refresh. Refresh. And yet every single time I reloaded the page, that tiger just kept popping back up on the screen. 

After finally hitting refresh enough times to convince myself that I wasn’t living in a daydream, I started screaming at the top of my lungs and running around my house in circles. Not too long after, my parents and siblings jumped in with me – and together we probably sounded like a herd of inharmonious band geeks. I’m surprised the neighbors didn’t call the cops because they thought we were throwing another hoopla in the backyard. After my voice was strained and I was all out of juice, I tried checking some of my other Ivy accounts, only to find the sites bogged down by other overachieving Ivy-League wannabees who were doing exactly the same thing. Given I didn’t apply to Harvard and had already been accepted to Princeton, the anxiety in awaiting my Cornell and Penn admissions decisions wasn’t quite as nail-biting. Yet, there was definitely an ounce of curiosity eating away at me, even if only for bragging rights and self-satisfaction.  In an effort to try to prove to myself that this was actually real life and that I wasn't dreaming, I decided to jump in the shower instead of staring at the computer screen as I angrily hit refresh on my Penn and Cornell accounts countless times.  But while I had found it within myself to let the scent of uncertainty linger in the air for another half-hour or so, my parents wanted answers.  So they continued to try to swim their way through the sea of nail-biting students, and after countless efforts, they finally broke through.  This time it was my mom who initiated the screaming and that could only mean one thing – getting into Princeton wasn’t a fluke, as I had been accepted into two lesser, but still noteworthy Ivy League schools as well.  As my mom started banging on the bathroom door to tell me the good news, I started jumping up and down and dancing around like a monkey in the shower.

All in all, it was a good night, a night that I will never forget.  After countless years of pushing myself to new limits and dealing with the many sources of criticism and dumb blonde jokes that had come my way, within seconds, I had all of the validation that I needed. I no longer cared that some of my friends got better grades on their math tests, or that I didn’t have perfect SAT scores, because three schools that I never imagined getting into wanted me to spend the next four years of my life on their campuses. In the public high school that I attended, the day after college admissions decisions come out is college t-shirt day, where all of the seniors wear the shirt of the school that they plan on attending. While I had only told maybe a handful of my close friends and mentors about my multiple Ivy League acceptances the night before, word travels like lightening, and when I walked into my first period honors physics class the next morning, all eyes were on me.  For months, I had been daydreaming about what it might feel like to finally be able to wear a Princeton t-shirt and actually know that my love for the school was not unrequited – not only did I want them, but they wanted me too.  But as I faced a whirlwind of fake smiles masking the glares that many others were not as suave at hiding, I wanted to crawl back under my covers.  The t-shirt that I was so proud to wear would have to stay hidden under my sweatshirt until I built up the nerve to take it off during second period. But just because I was too afraid to flaunt the word Princeton across my chest, it didn’t mean that people didn’t imagine it being there anyway. As I sat slumped down in my chair in the back row of my physics class, I remember a girl turning around to talk to me, as I thought to myself – here we go. After the clichéd small talk and congratulations, this girl took me aback with something that I will never forget.  After talking more about her college options and trying to soften the blow of not getting into the Ivy League schools herself, she told me that I was so lucky to have gotten into Princeton, because now I would be set for life.

While getting into Princeton was undoubtedly a noteworthy achievement, I took the girl’s comment as nothing more than excessive kindness and exaggeration at the time. But now I know that she was right.  As great as it was to see that tiger wagging his tail on my computer screen the night before, I definitely hadn’t considered the ramifications of what a Princeton acceptance meant.  For that day of school and for many to follow, I had to internalize the whispers and glares of all of the people who felt they were smarter and more qualified than I was, and therefore couldn’t fathom why Princeton had possibly wanted me over them.  Were many people in my graduating high school class more naturally intelligent than I was? Absolutely.  In the midst of living in a yuppie town full of star athletes, driven students, and well-rounded people, I was rarely the smartest person in the room, and I was okay with that.  I was never afraid to ask question after question in class, or to call my friends at two in the morning admitting that I had no idea how to do any of the physics problems on our homework assignment. Not everything came as naturally to me as it did for other people, but there is one thing that I am certain of – and that is that I wanted it more than anything.  And passion and grit can take you further than anything else in the world.

While there is no exact science to college admissions decisions, I would definitely say that getting into the top schools is a lot more like a creative writing piece than a math test.  So all of the people who didn’t think I deserved to be wearing that Princeton t-shirt would just have to live with the uncertainty of the situation, just the same as I would. As the days passed and the date on the calendar crept closer and closer to the time when I would have to commit to a particular school, I explored all of my noteworthy options and tried to consider what going to each school would mean for the next four years of my life.  But while it was the next four years of my life that were primarily weighing on my decision, it was really the next seventy that I should have been mulling over in my head.  As I went from one school to the next in attempt to make my decision, I tried to talk to as many students and alumni as possible in attempt to get a sense for what my experience at the school would be like, and ultimately why I should attend. Getting into all of these great schools definitely gave me a temporary chip on my shoulder, because I felt like for a fleeting moment, I was on top of the world.  I was a senior in high school, the captain of the gymnastics team, and according to the girl in my physics class, I was set for the rest of my life.  So over time the glares of those who resented me only started to fuel my fire, and avoidance slowly began to morph into a feeling of power as I embraced my present and tried to start writing my future.

When I had the opportunity to spend a few days on the Princeton campus for Princeton Preview, I was immersed in a blur of orange and black, with students presenting me with all sorts of reasons why Princeton was the best school in the world.  And while they were struggling through writing their thesis or pulling an all-nighter in the library, they put on a good face and tried to convince me that Princeton was the best choice.  Though I appreciated all of the friendly students who were eagerly congratulating me and sharing their Princeton experiences, I have always been a pretty blunt person – and to this day, there is one rationale that has stuck with me - the ultimate reason that made me check the box that would sign me up for what I thought was four years of perpetual Halloween.  And that reason was this: for the rest of my life, I would be able to write the word PRINCETON in sharpie marker in big bold letters on a white piece of paper, and that is the extent of a resume that I would need to open any door I wanted in my future.  So while my high school crush may have been going to Penn and I would have been able to do division one gymnastics at Cornell, I realized that there was a flaw in my logic.  While the student’s notions may have been exaggerated, sitting where I am today with a Princeton diploma in my hand, I can say that there is all too much truth to the premise of his argument.

After internalizing the student’s words and trying to look at the situation in its entirety, I realized that the college that I would choose was not only going to impact the next four years of my life, but it would impact the seventy to follow.  And after coming to see the strength of Princeton’s community and alumni network at a dinner that I attended, my decision was a no-brainer. Saying yes to Princeton would not only mean four years of pushing myself academically and being exposed to some of the best professors that this country has to offer.  It would also mean setting myself up for a lifetime of opportunity, with countless proud tigers bending over backwards to help me every step of the way.  While there are a vast amount of direct benefits that come with attending an Ivy League school, such as incredible professors, wonderful academic and career opportunities, and all of the amazing peers whom you will have the opportunity to share your knowledge with along the way – the real ‘why’ of attending a school like Princeton is most clearly depicted in the stream of orange and black tigers who parade past Nassau Hall during reunions every single year.  From the proud tigers in the old guard to the seniors who are about to graduate, the group of alumni that you become a part of when you walk out of Fitzrandolph Gate at commencement is simply indescribable. I have this one Princeton t-shirt that says ‘once a tiger, always a tiger’ and as cheesy as that slogan sounds, there is no better way to articulate my Princeton experience. And now instead of having one Princeton t-shirt that I would wear under my sweatshirt in high school, secretly wondering what the word Princeton would really mean in the context of my own life, I have more Princeton t-shirts than I know what to do with, and I wear them proudly. While I may still not be the smartest person in the room, I am and forever will be one of many in a pack of tigers who are always there to help me find my way.  And though I may not have all the answers, I know that for the rest of my life, the answer will be just a phone call away.