About This Blog (or how Jess applied to Columbia University and didn't think she had a chance in hell...)

I'm not entirely sure when I decided to apply to Columbia. Like many of my decisions, it was probably made after a long session of putzing around the internet. What I do remember clearly is downloading the application and printing out two copies. I wrote and rewrote all of my information a million times, wondering if I would ever get the guts to actually apply. And then there was that whole pesky lack of test scores. Oh, I guess I should have mentioned I'm a high school drop out.

Let's start at the beginning.

I was born and raised in New York City. My mother worked and my father wasn't around, so I spent most of my time with my grandparents. When I was twelve years old, I received a scholarship to a private high school. When asked about my goals, I had told them I wanted to go to Columbia and be either a doctor or a lawyer. (I was adorably ambitious even back then.) Then my mother had two strokes. I dropped out of high school at thirteen and spent the next ten years taking care of my family and household. It was one of those things I did without thought; families do what they have to do, right?

In the winter of 2005, my family traded in the fast pace of New York City for the molasses ways of Florida. I wasn't a happy camper. Where were the museums? The musicals? The diverse restaurants? The move was one of the most difficult adjustments I've ever made, quitting school not excluded.

After a few years, I realized my family didn't need me home 24/7. My brother started high school, my mom was well enough to work, and my grandparents thrived in a slower environment. I began volunteering at different organizations around my small town, eventually ending up at a mental health organization. They liked me so much they hired me after two weeks. Two months after that, I was promoted to Project Manager contingent that I sit for my GED within three months. I sat for the test two weeks after the promotion and passed. I received my diploma at 23, ten years after I dropped out.

Since I now had my GED, I decided to register for classes at the local community college. I did really well, maintaining a 3.8 GPA and finding that philosophy and psychology were my passions. Unfortunately, I felt like a tiger in a tiny cage. The school was amazing and I'm forever thankful for what I learned in those classrooms, but I needed a bigger cage (or pond, as the expression usually goes). And that brings us back to my late night searching for schools that welcomed transfers and nontraditional students. Columbia fit the bill.

I sent in the first part of my application March 23rd, 2012. The next step was to sit for their standardized exam, since I never took the SAT or ACT. The good thing about the Columbia exam is that it is based only on reading and writing; you don't want to see me attempt a math problem. Really, you don't. It involves vodka, a flamethrower, and a Bible. No math for Jess.

The test was actually a great experience. It was given in Orlando which meant my mother and I took a road trip and made a vacation out of it. What's better than acing an exam? Acing it and hitting the premium outlets afterward. Awww yeah!

After the exam, I begged asked two of my professors to write letters of recommendation, requested transcripts from current and previous schools, and worked on my essay, which was the hardest part. I hadn't bothered telling many people about my past and my lack of an education, but I didn't hold anything back from Columbia. I had three different people read the essay to give me pointers, and everyone thought it was excellent. Everything was going great...that is until one of my letters of rec got lost in the mail and I had two days until the deadline. This time I really did beg someone, a friend, to write a quick letter for me. She did and my application was finally complete on June 1st, the day of the deadline. 

Then the wait began. It wasn't nearly as long as I thought it would be.