SAT Question of the Day: Which word most accurately describes my college process, my life that should be dominated by stress and the dreaded SATs and ACTs and GPA and stress and college visits and Naviance stalking and stress and extracurricular-padding and common apps and early decisions and stress?
Calm.
The words “second-semester junior” may be the number one cause of soaring blood pressure at Staples, and yet I’ve managed to maintain the odd dichotomy of on-task organization and nonchalant demeanor. Sure, I know when to take the SAT IIs and when my application deadlines are. But I’m not ruled by the boundaries of those red circles on the calendar.
Of course, the low-stress package isn’t for everyone, nor is it any more successful than the looming anxiety that most upperclassmen are familiar with. For every Eli Manning calmly executing a fourth-quarter comeback, there’s a Tom Brady barking orders at receivers and running plays at a breakneck pace. Both have multiple Super Bowl rings.
As a high-strung suburb of the highest-strung city, Westport, it stands to reason, is an epicenter of college stress. The calculator-driven frenzy after getting a test back can make Period 8 Spanish look like an MIT study hall, and some of my classes have spent more time on college than content. There is less than a year left before it ends, and my lack of panic about The Process is almost eerie.
However, after the in-class guidance counselor presentation on the strenuous horror of choosing a place to study, I started to worry that I was the only one left on Unstressed Island, having missed the boat to Normalcy (which is not-so-coincidentally located near the College Board offices in New Jersey). To alleviate my fear, I spoke to guidance counselor William Plunkett, an expert on navigating the choppy waters of The Process.
Fortunately, Plunkett reassured me that my method is normal and not as uncommon as I had thought. A wave of relief washed over me: With the knowledge that I’m not alone on the island, I no longer have the urge to paint and befriend a volleyball.
Sorry, Wilson Jr. You’re welcome, gym department.
Plunkett also offered a helpful reminder to pursue balance and perspective in the college search. “We get caught up in a name, and that’s definitely one factor to consider. You want to go to a school you’ll be proud of,” he said. “But that name doesn’t necessarily make it the right fit, because college is what you make of the experience.”
This bit of wisdom was the missing piece to my personal college puzzle. It eliminated my lingering insecurities by reaffirming and summarizing my beliefs more succinctly and in a more organized manner than I ever could.
Choosing the right college certainly matters. While I’m sure that the California Institute of Locksmithing, for instance, provides a high-quality education in doorknob-related arts and sciences, its lack of a publicly accessible website may not be very attractive to technology- oriented students. And it is very difficult for a graduate of the Texas College of Traditional Chinese Medicine to pursue a career in business, unless stock prices surge for acupuncture supplies from the Lone Star State.
But as Confucius, a man who was surely very familiar with traditional Chinese medicine, might have said, where one goes does not determine who one becomes. A degree looks nice on a wall, but it’s as useful as a tractor in Manhattan without any real-world experience, potential or (in some cases) connections to back it up.
And so, people like me (yes, they exist) continue bobbing along in the high-pressure stream of Staples High School, hunting for colleges with the relaxed demeanor and mental balance of General Manager Billy Beane, of Moneyball fame, hunting free agents for his small-market Oakland A’s. Calm, loose, and under-the-radar: It’s a winning strategy, both in baseball and in the college process.
Who needs Normalcy? After all, it’s in New Jersey.
