You honest-to-God did it. You’ve slaved over essays, spent hours studying for tests, and probably skipped out on a few social events, but it’s paid off: you’ve been accepted to Columbia.
Even though you’ve already updated your Facebook status, your mind is probably frantic, trying to process the fact that you actually got in. I’m finishing up my freshman year and I still can’t really believe I go here.
I remember when I found out. I was doing statistics homework, and just happened to check my email. Once I saw I got in, I was filled with the same uncontainable joy I know that each of you are overflowing with right now. I ceased all homework for the rest of the day and called my parents, friends from home (I went to boarding school), and when I went to dinner, I told all my favorite teachers.
I could barely eat. The goal that I had been working towards for three years had been actualized. I was on top of the world.
But then someone told me jokingly that my race probably played a decent factor in my admittance.
Wait, what?
