The Eve of Destruction by E. M., Holyoke, MA
The final "test." This is what the last four years have come to. One glance at a piece of paper filled with meaningless numbers and they think they know my whole life story. A few numbers!
Looking around the admissions office waiting for my college interview, I confronted the past, the present and most important, the future. I recalled the endless hours talking to my friends about "urgent news" which now seemed so trivial. I recalled the countless nights spent adding the final touches to papers and projects so that they were just right.
But at the time those things were so important. Now my future is on the line. Through a looking glass, I inspected the others waiting for interviews. In my mind, I pictured them as the "student," the "athlete," and the "fashion bug." I thought that in comparison I looked like a Plain Jane. In my khaki pants, white blouse and black blazer, I did not think that I had anything special to add to this campus. But then I realized how untrue that was. I was the all-American teenager. I was the student and the athlete. I was an active member of Student Council (among other activities) during my four years of high school. I was more than what my SAT scores suggested. I recalled the various activities and projects I was involved in and formulated ideas to convey to my interviewer that I was the best candidate.
But once again frustration and doubt overwhelmed me. My heart started to pound. The interview was only a few minutes away. I had to regain my composure. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught my mother's eye. It was then that I realized that when I stepped into the interviewer's office, I was on my own. Not only for the interview, but for the next four years. I would no longer have my brother's coat tails to ride on. I would no longer be seen as Bill's or Matt's sister or Bill's or Ellen's daughter.
All too soon, the secretary called my name. As I stood up, I saw my parents turn toward me and a smile came to their faces; they, too, had come to the realization that I was on my own. I had come to another rite of passage.
Having been introduced to the interviewer, we made our way down the ominous hall. As we spoke, my nerves finally began to settle. Soon I found myself spewing answers without clearly remembering the questions. After what seemed like an eternity, the phone rang indicating our time was over. When the interviewer called my parents into the office, I took a moment to collect myself.
My parents peered around the door as if to ask how the meeting had gone. I answered with a smile and a sigh of relief. As the interviewer spoke to my parents, I was able to relax somewhat. While they were speaking, I made another discovery: although people may have associated me with the accomplishments of my brothers, I know that the work that I have done and the recognition that I have received were fruits of my labor. Leaving that office, I was aware that I was on my way to becoming much more than a Plain Jane.