Fun Fact about Marci: In her spare time, she likes collecting Broadway soundtracks; she hopes to some day work behind-the-scenes in theatrical productions
College begins...
Friday, September 15, 2006
A more proper term for college "orientation" is "disorientation." My first week of college life was packed with various workshops, social activities, and tours, designed to help introduce excited yet anxious freshman, like me, to the college experience. These events were often fun and informative; yet it is no surprise that when adjusting to a totally new sleeping, eating, socializing, and studying schedule, more often than not, one winds up confused.
In my first week of college life, an abundance of information was presented in a short period. But now, as the third week progresses, and as classes settle into a normal routine, and friendships with floor- and class-mates strengthen, the confusion of orientation week lessens. I still have a drawer full of crinkled papers. Yet now I'm finding the information presented in orientation workshops now have relevance and applicability to my new life.
Orientation can be a disorientating time; in between the fun comedy shows and giveaways of free water bottles and t-shirts, there comes the stress of preparing for classes and discovering a new routine of independence (and yes, doing laundry on one's own!). Yet this, too, will pass. My advice to next year's college freshman: Take advantage of the free programs sponsored by your college during orientation, both social and academic. They will help acquaint you with your campus and college resources, and connect you with new friends. Orientation, whether lasting for a day or a whole week, can be both worthwhile and fun.
Graduation, Graduation, Graduation
Monday, April 17, 2006
I am about to conclude my high school years as a home-schooler. In just a few months, I will start over in a new place, surrounded by new people, beginning a new phase of my life. Graduation links my four years of high school with my four years of college; for that reason alone, graduation is a significant time.
But like most things of value, earning a high school diploma requires hard work, and takes four years to accomplish. In 9th grade, I enrolled in a private school that issues an official high school transcript and diploma to home-schooled students. I had to meet requirements before receiving that long awaited, distinguished slip of paper, worthy of a fancy frame and display in a prominent place. Yet while ensuring that I've met requirements, this slip of paper can do no more than symbolize what high school means to me.
One of the requirements for graduation was a portfolio; assembling one was a fun process. It helped me realize what I accomplished during high school. My portfolio includes a research paper published in The Concord Review, essays I have written, lists of books read, evaluations from people I've worked with, awards received, and other brag-worthy items. I recommend that every high schooler assemble a portfolio, whether it's required or not. A portfolio is a nice summation of high school, reinforcing personal accomplishments, and a way to subtly congratulate yourself on achievements.
While assembling my portfolio, I realized how important it is to save what I've done during high school. That way, I had a broad selection to choose from when doing my portfolio. Everything included in my portfolio is a reminder of the hours spent and lessons learned. However, it also reminds me that slips of paper alone cannot sum up the lessons I learned from high school. I wonder what I will remember as being of greater value: Getting my research paper published in The Concord Review, or the actual process of researching the tragic Khmer Rouge takeover in Cambodia?
To graduate, I also met credit requirements and (for my personal college admissions) standardized-testing requirements. I didn't want to run out of time, miss a deadline for a test, or forget a required course (such as economics—not my forte!). So, beginning in 9th grade and continuing thereafter, I plotted the order of my courses for each grade level. I devised a timeline of what I wished to accomplish in each grade. Coordinating test dates was another challenge; I found it helpful to start as early as 9th grade doing that. Since my goals for college required standardized test scores, it was important that I knew deadlines for the SAT, ACT, SAT II's, AP's, etc. Planning doesn't have to be obsessive, and it also doesn't have to be inflexible. Nevertheless, I found having a plan in mind to be very helpful.
The process of planning also reminded me that the goal is not as memorable as the process of reaching that goal. I wonder what I will remember more: The final score on my SAT or the time spent in practice and review? I think I know the answer: I will remember the lessons I learned in discipline and determination, planning and organization, not just those about math equations and grammar.
When reviewing the steps I've taken (assembling a portfolio, and listing my course credits, activities, test results, etc.), these last four years appear systematic and ordered. If I constructed a timeline of my high school experience, the significant events would fall into place, docile and structured. I know, however, that the process of reaching these events was often less than precise. There were times of feeling overwhelmed and fearful, mixed in with moments of exhilaration, pride, and satisfaction. High school cannot be planned perfectly, step-by-step. My own aspirations changed. I developed new interests, uncovered new talents (or discarded unfeasible dreams). But one steady constant throughout high school was the setting of goals. Sometimes I failed; but often I met those goals.
The high school experience is unique to each individual. But whether you attend a public school, private school, or home-school, the learning process is valuable to anyone and should provide a great feeling of satisfaction, both during and after. Paradoxically, I've discovered that the true aim of graduation is not a high school diploma in and of itself. The true accomplishment is the process of receiving that diploma. It was through that process that I learned and grew. That lesson will last a lifetime.
If You Haven't Won the Lottery, Read This
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
When I began researching colleges, my parents reassured me that the benefits of a good education outweighed its financial costs. Because of their encouragement, I felt free to investigate colleges without obsessing about their listed price. Nonetheless, deciding to attend college, especially a private college, requires a realistic outlook. Therefore, though I like to approach my college years as an investment that will someday pay off with a higher paycheck, I also understand that I will, more likely than not, accrue debt. Even so, I feel it is possible to minimize that debt, without relying on winning the lottery in the near future. Scholarships provide a way to do this.
I began my scholarship search early in high school; guidebooks assured me that I did not need to be a junior or senior to find applicable scholarships. I soon found this to be true; many are available for 9th and 10th graders as well. I started on a broad base with online search engines. Lunch-money.com provides one example of a great internet search tool. Websites customizing scholarship searches to my abilities and interests, as well as listing potential scholarships in order of relevance and the approaching deadline, were especially useful.
Soon into my search, I discovered how many different types of scholarships exist. There are ones for left-handers, photographers, athletes, even descendents of the Founding Fathers. Or if, like me, you are none of the above, there are other options available. Focusing on a few of my abilities and interests, such as writing and community service, made the search less overwhelming.
The more I discovered the vast array of available scholarships, the more I realized the differences in time required to complete them. Some call for little time, effort, or thought. Some of these were in the form of sweepstakes completed in a couple minutes. Unwittingly, I signed up for some; all I got from them was an abundance of junk mail in my e-mail inbox.
At the other end of the spectrum, however, are worthy scholarships, and contests that provide money for college savings. Unfortunately, to the harried mind of a busy high schooler, the downfall of many of these is that they often require much work and time. Scholarships requiring 1,000-5,000 word essays, including those requiring research, are especially daunting. Last year, I devoted hours to reading Ayn Rand's 700-page masterpiece, The Fountainhead, and writing an essay on a related topic. Unfortunately, I had no luck with this one.
At the local level, however, I have had more luck. I placed 3rd in a local essay contest, using the money to buy some college supplies, and won a couple regional essay contests awarding savings bonds. Even though the monetary rewards of local scholarships and contests are usually not as great as national ones, the chances of winning these are, of course, greater.
Applying for scholarships, whether national or local, requires planning. I have a binder where I keep all relevant materials: lists of upcoming scholarship deadlines, my up-to-date transcript, and letters of recommendation. By keeping forms like this together in one place (both academic and extracurricular), when I'm preparing a scholarship application, everything is organized and close at hand.
Awaiting results is the worst part of the search for money. Only winners are notified. So if I don't win a scholarship, I have no way of knowing what I did wrong or what I could have improved. The main thing I realize now is that applying for scholarships is similar to applying to college. Many qualified candidates are turned down; other applications do not meet the selection committee's criteria, whether because they're incomplete or not up to par with the quality of the winners' applications.
Yet even if there are no monetary awards, there are other benefits. Again, in this way, scholarships are similar to college applications. Through them, I learn more about my future dreams and about myself by trying to convey to scholarship committees my personality, character, and future ambitions. And even though I didn't receive recognition for my essay on Ayn Rand's novel, I enjoyed reading and analyzing a book that, otherwise, I probably won't have picked up.
I'm in the process now of concluding other scholarship applications and, as a National Merit Finalist, am awaiting results from this program. I also plan to continue applying for scholarships in the next four years. Upon college graduation, I hope I can look back knowing I planned wisely and, I hope, earned as much as I could to minimize debt.
Still, winning the lottery would be nice.
Second Semester Senioritis
Friday, February 17, 2006
From September to December, many of my thoughts related to my early decision college application. Now that my admission to NYU is assured, I am thrust into a new period of expectancy. In my first half of senior year, I faced the tasks of writing an admissions essay, collecting recommendation forms, and sending standardized test scores; now, in this second semester as graduation approaches, I face the challenge of concluding senior year courses. The end is in sight, yet I often feel mixed emotions: impatient to finish high school and excited to begin the college phase. But I'm also sad that this is my last few months of being a normal high schooler before I tackle the demands of the next four years.
These days, with a college acceptance letter firmly in hand, I easily lapse into day dreams, imagining myself as an empowered college student, studying great literature, striding through dim halls echoing with prestige and scholarship, my arms full of abstruse, ancient texts. I weave through crowds of upper classmen with confidence and poise. I navigate to and from residence halls, internships, and classes with ease. In college discussion groups, I present arguments with clarity and aplomb. I balance a thriving social life with academic accomplishment. I do my laundry, remembering to separate whites from colors. I refrain from tears whenever I think of my yellow Labrador, at home without me.
Then the imaginative bubble of collegiate confidence bursts. I realize my subordinate status as a high school senior. Instead of staring across a crowd of attentive heads in a crowded lecture hall, absorbing the profound insights of a prestigious professor, I'm staring at a bleak stack of physics and history texts and confronted with a half-undone research paper on Thomas Jefferson. I hold a college acceptance letter in my hand; but, I realize with a sinking feeling, I lack a high school graduation diploma.
Senior year's second semester is not a free ride; nor should it be. I have heard rumors of students suffering from senioritis and have wondered if I would experience it, too. Granted, I am more impatient to finish my courses than I have ever been before. And to my chagrin, my course load has not diminished. Sometimes I wonder: Why am I taking three AP classes? Does Physics have applicability to my future interests in literature or art history? Should I cut back on my extracurriculars? I've already been accepted to college, after all. Why the continued effort?
But my parents assure me that this semester will prepare me for the heavier demands of college. They remind me that in college I will be able to devote more time to topics I'm truly interested in. And in my more rational moments, I do see the importance of a challenging course of study in senior year. Just as I've heard the rumors of senioritis, I've also heard the horror stories, few but existent, of students rejected from college when second-semester grades fall. Clearly, slacking off is dangerous, not only because of the threat of rejection, but also because of personal cost. Senior year is just as important as previous years for college preparation, if not more so, because the habits I establish now I will use in college. Though it's difficult, at least I can remind myself that dealing with distractions now is preparation for later. I can be sure distractions in college will be greater and the necessity for balance and perseverance larger.
In a paradoxical way, it is a comfort to realize that the challenges of senior year do not miraculously terminate when a college acceptance letter arrives. Seeing the end in sight has a motivating influence. Although I no longer worry about applications or standardized test results, other things now occupy my time. Through it all, I want to remember to retain my focus on finishing high school successfully while still enjoying its last phase. These are, after all, the last few months I'll be living at home, juggling a normal high school schedule of extracurriculars, volunteering, and academics. Most of the time I'm at a loss on how to describe this transition: Exhilarating? Daunting? I think it's a mixture of both. Although the challenges of second semester remain, the end is also in sight, and the beginning of my college years shines bright.
New Year's Resolution
Monday, January 23, 2006
Corita Kent once wrote: "Success is a succession of moments / To live each one is to succeed." The older I get, the more this statement makes sense. Life's greatest achievements do not materialize, by chance, all of a sudden; rather, they are the culmination of many moments of perseverance. This became clear to me last month on December 15. This was the day I received an acceptance letter from New York University.
I applied to NYU in mid-September. To say it was challenging is an understatement: it was also emotionally and psychologically exhausting. I continually pondered how I could best convey four years of my life onto a little application. As I awaited anxiously the acceptance/non-acceptance letter, I became more nervous (if that is possible), second-guessing myself. Had I done everything I could to maximize my chances of acceptance? Did I meet NYU's selective criteria? Should I have altered that short answer, proofread my essay once more, or ranked my extracurricular activities differently?
Then the day arrived that I both hoped for and dreaded. I was taut with nerves. Opening the large white envelope with the NYU purple logo on the bottom was one of the most excruciating, most exhilarating moments of my life. My reaction upon reading: "Congratulations! … You have been accepted for admission," was a melee of emotions—relief, joy, hope, pride.
Starting this year with an acceptance letter in my possession is electrifying. I look ahead to 2006 as both a year of closure (graduation) and a year of beginnings (becoming a college freshman). Through the tears of joy when I opened my acceptance letter, I reminded myself of the long, challenging process that preceded acceptance. Setting high goals, being open to new opportunities, and persevering through tough times all helped me achieve success in high school; I hope that by implementing these same lessons in the future, I will succeed in college.
Success requires setting high goals, a critical part of achievement. The goals do not have to be large or extravagant; today I made a goal to finish the novel 1984. Other goals are larger, such as completing my AP Art History course before the May testing date. Setting goals has motivated and challenged me.
Success also requires embracing new opportunities. Writing this monthly column for lunch-money.com was such an opening for me. At first, I was intimidated; sharing my personal experiences with others seemed frightening. But I pushed myself to do this, and now I enjoy writing each column. New opportunities such as this have helped me grow stronger not just as a student, but also as a person.
Perhaps most of all, success requires hard work and perseverance. Many times, I don't feel like persisting (like in the middle of the SAT or in the middle of a research paper). I've learned, however, that these moments are okay. They are usually fleeting, and by reminding myself of my goals and the chance to embrace opportunity, I can become redirected and refocused. Certainly, times to unwind and recoup between big projects are helpful and necessary, but not to the detriment of the big picture and the larger dream.
Receiving my acceptance letter was a great moment in my life that I'll always remember. But I experience a greater feeling of pride from the four years of high school that came before applying to college. The slip of paper represents, in Coretta Kent's words, "a succession of moments." The greatest reward of high school is not necessarily learning facts and figures, but by developing as a person, moment-by-moment. This is the life lesson that will remain with me long after my high school history or math lesson.
If I had not received an acceptance letter, I would still have had those four years of high school to look back on with pride. I'm thrilled to be joining the ranks of future NYU students, yet I also want to remember that my self-worth is not established by what college I attend, but by how I live my life year-by-year, day-by-day, hour-by-hour, moment-by-moment.
Unveiling the Truth about Colleges
Thursday, December 15, 2005
My mailbox overflows with thick envelopes and slick brochures. The vibrant color schemes, posed pictures of smiling students, faculty biographies, and positive quotes (about the student life, academics, campus, even the food) provides interesting, though biased, information. Each one details the best features of their respective colleges. In doing this, these college view books often exclude practical, not-so-ideal details: How is everything as perfect as these view books present it to be? How is it possible to get the real picture?
When I began my college search a couple years ago, the first answer that popped into my mind was to visit the colleges I was interested in. And I did visit two prospective colleges, and the city of several colleges in which I was interested in. Yet I wanted more information. College visits are valuable tools, yet they do not always provide the full picture either. The visits were short; and even though I saw students moving into dorms, I felt only one day was not enough to get all the information I wanted about where I would spend the next four years of my life. I also felt I did not have enough time to absorb the onslaught of information garnered from a college visit; I needed time to ponder and reflect.
For this, I checked out college-sponsored websites. College view books present these web addresses in bold print, so they're not easy to miss. I found a mass of information on these sites, including current event listings and the academic schedule, plus course descriptions and virtual guided picture tours of campuses. These provided much of the same information I would have gathered from a campus tour and by talking with students and faculty. In the comfort of my own room, however, I had time to carefully read the material, think about, and weigh it.
But my search was not done. I still wanted more information about the day-to-day, middle-of-the-school year, end-of-semester-crunch-time atmosphere. What do the faculty and students think about their college when they are not trying to influence a prospective student, standing in front of them with hopeful eyes, to apply to their alma mater? What do campus visits fail to reveal and college websites fail to mention?
For this, I turned to websites not affiliated with my prospective colleges. Now let me begin with a caveat: the internet can be useful, but it also can be misleading. I needed to check sites' credibility, and always take reviews of colleges with a grain of salt. Some are well written and informative; others are disrespectful and bizarre. It was important to consider the purpose of the websites and the reviews and statistics contained on them. Are they objective? Or are they trying to influence me in a certain way?
Two helpful sites designed for high school students are collegeconfidential.com and campusdirt.com. On these sites, current students post their reviews of professors, the student life, academics, the campus, and numerous other topics. Now I could find out if the cafeteria food really was as grand as the view books said! I could also find out about lesser-known university quirks, like that little cafe down the street, a perfect student hangout, or where the best place to buy discount tickets to concerts and theatre.
Forums were another great tool in my college search. The topics are endless. I have posted many questions to prospective students relating to my admission application, financial aid forms, etc. Now, as I await my early decision notification from my first-choice college, I still browse websites to rejoice and commiserate with other students, sharing our hopes and qualms. (By the way, many official college websites also have student forums; these are also great sources of information when I have a specific question to ask the board manager, who is a credible advisor.)
All the sources I've mentioned above are useful tools. In the crunch of college application time, losing sight of the true reasons why I wanted to attend a certain college was easy. To maintain my focus and motivation, the internet was indispensable, keeping me informed, updated, and confident in my decisions.
Nonetheless, only I could make the choice of what colleges fit me best. I knew that was my responsibility. Researching over the internet provided a great pile of useful information; and in the end, I felt confident that I could make an informed decision about the next four years of my life. Gaining this knowledge and confidence may take a bit of discipline, some patience, and a lot of digging, but the pay-offs will (I hope) be enormous.
Distance Learning: Welcome to Cyberspace
Tuesday, November 15, 2005
Paper and pencil optional; computer and internet connection required. Though I have never met my instructor, we "talk" to each other almost daily. My classmates live throughout the country, communicating with me through message boards and emoticons. I take quizzes via a computer screen and keyboard; I write timed essays on a virtual answer sheet that automatically crosses cyberspace to reach my instructor. Distance becomes a connection, rather than a hindrance.
Thanks to better communication and the internet boom, distance learning is gaining popularity. Recent news articles highlight how high school and college education is becoming more techno-savvy, allowing professors to communicate with and even present lectures to students across vast distances. I wanted to experience the new mode of instruction for myself. Is distance learning overrated, or is it a viable way to learn a new subject?
Each distance-learning course is set up differently, depending on student/teacher goals. My first distance-learning course required little computer expertise: I needed to know the basics&mdashhow to type, use a word processor, e-mail documents, and navigate the internet and course site. I enrolled in an honors literary analysis course sponsored by a prestigious private university. I enrolled with two other students; though our background, education, personality, and study method varied, we shared a desire to study writing in relation to Classic literature. This course turned out to be a great experience, and I later advanced to AP-level courses through the same program.
Finding the right course format to fit my personality and study goals was important. Distance learning works well with many homeschoolers who are familiar with setting learning goals and completing work independently. But distance learning also works well for any student who is responsible and self-motivated. Though my instructors have always been caring and helpful, I've recognized that their job was to critique and grade my work, not to hold my hand through the learning process. I've often searched out answers to questions on my own. This self-reliance is important, not only in distance learning, but also in life.
Instructors set deadlines, and I must abide by them to earn a good grade. Yet the manner, method, and time when I study are completely up to me. There is no set time for lectures or group study (at least in my course); nonetheless, class interaction remains important. I review essays written by my fellow students; I post my opinions on discussion questions related to current topics. A social board allows for fun insights or surveys, sometimes related to academics, other times on random topics, such as "what books are you reading?" or "what was the last movie you saw?"
Another positive aspect of distance learning is the opportunity to study less common subjects in depth. I am now part of an online, college-introductory course in art history. This course is a chance to explore a topic I am passionate about with students who share my passion. Distance learning also provides accountability; I know that I am getting a full course load, the same as that in a classroom. My main study tool is a textbook, but with the nature of an online course, internet resources are always at my disposal, whether browsing images of Greek sculpture or researching the life of Van Gogh. Granted, sometimes a website fails to load or (right in the middle of a quiz!) the computer will start to hibernate without my permission. But these annoyances are rare, and my instructors have always been understanding regarding computer slip-ups. My experience with distance learning has been positive. I have come to firmly believe that with ever-changing technology, incorporating new methods of learning into a high school education is good preparation for college and&mdashmore importantly&mdashfor a future of life-long learning.