You don’t understand what it feels like to have your hopes come crashing down in a matter of seconds. You can’t possibly understand the precious seconds filled with wild hope and racing heartbeats before your brain process the “sorry but we cannot accept you” message on your computer screen. Who are you, but strangers, being handed our lives, our tears, our hardships, all the mountains we’ve braved, and being told to judge us for all the times we’ve stumbled in the process of reaching the summit? You don’t understand how much power you have. You have more than just someone’s story; you hold a person’s future.
No stranger should have that much power. No stranger should be allowed to shape the course of a person’s life. You don’t know anything about us. You don’t know anything, except for a bunch of numbers, which supposedly aren’t supposed to define who we are, and a few pages of words, that can’t possible express all the hardships and sorrows we’ve gone through.
It took weeks for the news to sink in. The first few days, I was completely fine. I kept myself so busy that I didn’t give my brain time to process anything. I threw myself into entering competitions, I stayed up late doing schoolwork so my brain would be too tired to dream, and I ran for miles everyday to wear myself out. And then, I started isolating myself from my family, eating meals only long after the dining room emptied, and ignoring all texts from my friends because I knew I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from taking my anger out on them. No one understood why I was doing this. They didn’t know that I was rejected from the one summer program I desperately wanted to go to.
I think one of the reasons I took the news so badly was because I kept building the program up to be such an amazing experience in my head. At first, it was just any other summer research program. But in the months that I worked on my application essays, it because something more, something exciting, the summer of my life. It didn’t help that the results came out so late in the year. In the months of waiting, the program turned from an exciting summer of research to something even more, it became paradise, the only thing that I needed in life. Whenever I got a low test grade, I told myself that it’s alright, because I had this summer program. When I did poorly at a competition, I told myself that it didn’t matter, because of this summer program. If the results had come out earlier, I wouldn’t have spent as much time making up excuses. If the results had come out earlier, I would still have been able to apply to other summer programs. My stubbornness stopped me. I told myself that there was no way I could go on if I was rejected, and therefore, I must get in.
So dear RSI, I know it is my own fault that I was rejected. I know that my application wasn’t up to par with those usually seen of the applicants whom you accept. I know that I don’t have as many trophies lined up as you would have liked. I know that I probably shouldn’t have applied if I knew I couldn’t handle the news of rejection. This is all my own fault. But somewhere, deep down inside, I can’t help but blame you as well. What gives you the right to take away all my dreams with a short email, that you probably wrote years ago, the same exact email that you use for all the rejected applicants, year after year. We put weeks into that application, you gave us mere minutes of your time. We gave you windows into our lives. What gives you the right to slam the door without any explanation. Why can’t you take the time to give us a word of advise, to give us a tip for the future, to show us how we can improve for next year, when we write our college essays. Instead, you just say no, without any reason, without even thinking about all the grief you’re causing.
Dear RSI, I managed to get over my sadness. This letter helped a lot, but I also managed to do well in one of those competitions that I entered in my post-rejection daze. So, in a way, my rejection has helped me move forward in life. I can’t help but wondering whether that was God’s plan all along. But I am still going to finish writing this letter and I am going to publish it to give a voice to all the other rejected applicants out there. If this was a college rejection, I know that I would be standing on a bridge right now, looking down at the dark water and telling myself to jump. I know that there are so many other people out there that are greatly affected by rejection. I know you can’t accept everyone. But you can definitely give up some of your time for us. Give us your advise, your wisdom, you guidance, so we can all do better next time.
Thank you.
