Skip to main content

Searching

Okay fellow children of the 70s - do you remember when we 'searched' for colleges? I do and know that my search was less of a search and more of a stumble. And I know that it was way different than the search that my children and the children of this generation embark.

My search. I liked the sound of Notre Dame and we had some family connection so I applied. I went to visit my sister Kelli at Michigan State University over a Halloween party weekend and had a little too much fun. Search over. 

There may have been more forethought, but I don't recall looking into entrance requirements or how the schools were rated. I have a vague notion that my attitude at the time was "Since my dad won't let me go to New York to study theater, I'll show him and study political science." The illogical logic of a teenage girl with no idea what she wanted.

My kids' searches; involve Internet searches, online testing to see what kind of school would best fit their needs/personality, review of ratings from magazines or other organizations and visits. And a keen awareness of the entrance requirements for the schools that interest them. And interviews. And information sessions. Lots of information sessions. And a lot of thought put into what the best college looks like for each of them. And more information sessions.

This summer, we visited four and a half schools. The half is George Mason University where Delaney had been for a week-long journalism conference. We picked her up there so I'm counting that as a half-visit. Thankfully, no information session, just a conviction on Delaney's part that it wasn't the school for her. Then while in DC we visited American University. I didn't have high hopes for that school because it didn't seem to fit with her needs, but it turned out to be a good match.

We then drove up to Boston where, over two days, we visited Boston University and Emerson College. Prior to the visits, Boston was tops on her list of schools, but after the information session Delaney felt it wasn't a school for her. Emerson College, however, was a school that was recommended by her voice teacher and one none of us expected to love. After the info session and tour, however, it moved to the number one position. Where it remains to this day.

The next day, we drove up to University of Rochester - another school that was tops on Delaney's list. However, after her interview with the admission counselor, it slipped from #1 to I-don't-want-to-stay-for-the-info session-or tour. 

I admire the thought and time that my children have devoted to this important search. And after having gone through it now with all three, I have to say the most important determinant has been the visit. Matthew quickly knocked off two of his top choices after a visit and Delaney eliminated five (there were two colleges of three we visited over spring break and her visit to U of M). There is a sense that I, too, have felt at these visits about whether a particular school would be a match. A recent example would be the visit to Emerson. While John and Delaney went on the tour, I stayed back in the admission office. While sitting there, pretending to read, I could listen to the conversations of the students that worked for admissions and it felt similar to one I might hear from Delaney's friends and acquaintances in theatre and forensics. And while Emerson is in Boston and a lot further away from home than I'd care for my baby to be, I could see Delaney thriving in that environment. Of course, it's not done yet - there are essays to be written, tests to be taken, applications to be filled out. 

And, a senior year to be lived.
And I cannot believe I'm going there yet - cannot yet believe my baby is even that close that I'm writing about college visits or, worse, acceptance!!

AT least she doesn't have an older college-age sister to visit over Halloween!

Comments

It's not a popularity contest, but ...

Lefties and Other Exceptional People

I have had the opportunity to do a lot of driving lately - back-and-forth to Wabash College and to-and-from Holland, Grand Rapids and East Lansing. It's given me lots of time to think and ponder the greater mysteries of the world; like the purpose of life, why my thumbnails always break first, the speed at which a state police officer will actually pull you over for and the theory of relativity. Oh, not THE theory of Relativity - with a capital 'R", created by Mr. Genius Einstein. No, my own theory of relativity - with a lower case 'r'. Created by this less-than-genius mother of three and wife of one! My theory is that the absolute worst drivers are those that drive exclusively in the left lane (I call them lefties) and the ones that believe the rules of the road apply to everyone except them (I call them exceptional people). I call it my own theory of relativity because these drivers are relatively unaware of how to drive. You know the ones that are going the spe...

Poster Child for chemo and freak of nature

I made the comment to my oncologist last week, during my chemo infusion, that I could be a poster child for chemo.  "You pretty much are," she said. I have thus far been sailing through chemo, albeit like a sailboat stuck out in the middle of Lake Michigan when the winds die and it's not moving for three to four days. Because my primary side effect has been extreme fatigue for 3-4 days post chemo. Last Saturday, 2 days post chemo, I took my shower and got dressed and announced to John that I now needed a nap - that kind of fatigue.  And being a woman who has dealt with the fatigue of MS, I thought this chemo kind would be familiar and similar to the exhaustion I feel on a hot summer day where retrieving the mail (our mailbox is at the end of our driveway) while riding my scooter to get it  feels like I've run a 5K. That kind of fatigue. This is the kind that makes it difficult to even get up, needing a nap after getting out of bed. Well that might be a little ...

Work of art or a work in progress!

Last fall, I was asked if I wanted my portrait painted as part of an exhibit entitled "Moving Through the Unimaginable". The requester was a young woman I have long admired, but for the moment I began to doubt my admiration for her because she described the exhibit's subjects as having 'endured adversity or trauma or disease with grace'. I didn't initially see how I fit into that description, but after some discussion with my hubby and reflection, Whitney's (the requester) esteem in my eyes was restored and I agreed. I was looking at myself through my own eyes. Know what I mean?? I don't see myself as exuding any grace as I've 'endured' my experience with M.S. In actuality, I get quite ticked on days like today when the sun is shining and everyone seems to be out enjoying the sunshine and balmy 42 degrees (I live in Michigan and 42 in March is a heat wave!) walking their dog, or biking or just walking. I know my pure-bred mutt Wall...