April 20, 2004
Value Inflation
Ever dependent on advice, I met with my old English teacher today to try to figure out where I should go to college.
We talked housing, involvement, degrees, benefits, majors, opportunity, and heart. And I think my heart finally gave itself a voice and chose Smith. I still have to talk it over with my parents since I will be turning down a lot of generousity this way, but this is probably the right decision for me.
Last night my piano teacher commented that I was much more animated when it came to talking about Smith than Syracuse, perhaps because all of that energy I caught from the other students and alums I talked too. I think Smith will make me a better, more well-rounded person over-all. There I am certain I will become involved, maybe even take on leadership roles outside the writing field.
Last night I talked to Christian, me a nervous wreck and him slightly alarmed at my state. I told him I feared that being pulled towards Smith was me reacting against how much I dislike Kilbourne and how I do not want to be someone who simply reacts. He then argued that he is happy to be someone who reacts, because then he acts based on things he has learned.
So I will react and have lovely baked goods on Friday afternoons at Smith. With my own bathroom cubby, bookshelves, and elitist intellectual attitude. I will try to keep it in check, but only so much can be done.
Plus I am not sure if I really want to go through a whole journalism program, which would be one of the main reasons I would choose Syracuse. Most of the skills I would need to become a good journalist I will learn through my job as a researcher at Smith and there is always graduate school. I will write for the newspaper and intern in the meantime. I know I need to learn more about grammar and other such painful things one learns in journalism programs, but that does not feel like enough to pull me there.
I hope I do not have to eat crow. I am terrified of doing that.
More than anything, I noticed I changed physically when I decided I wanted to go to Smith. It is probably all psychosomatic, but suddenly my confidence grew, the knots in my shoulders were unintwined for a bit (I may have just made up a word there...), and the thought of being at my school for another few weeks did not seem nearly as horrible as it did only an afternoon before.
I am even considering asking a boy to prom. I probably will think better of it later on, but me seriously considering taking the first step for a somewhat realistic date is a huge step. Not so huge that I am not somewhat, but a first step is rarely taken by me.
Oh passive voice, slip away.
Even more exciting for this moment is that I know what to do for my Tragedy of the Commons article! While reading my local newspaper's editorials I learned that Princeton is changing its grading system to try to curb grade inflation. I am not sure how bad grade inflation is at Universities across the nation, simply because the statistics and the analysis that go with them are quarrelsome, but I do know that it is pretty common in my high school.
The way I see it, I will get to slam group projects, the grading system, effort points, and the general spirit of entitlement. Oh yes, I will get to completely run amuck ranting. And in the process, since I am supposed to write a satire, I will be encouraged to be sarcastic and somewhat cruel.
Because we all know that when Watergate broke, we all were praising Nixon for how hard he tried to cover it up, right?
In the little bit of statistics I have looked at, many point to G.P.A.'s being greater now than in the '70s, which is striking to me because during those times many professors felt like they could not fail students because an F could quickly turn into an army uniform and a sponsored vacation to Vietnam.
The only conflict I have is that I could easily write this whole story as a normal article instead of a satire, since one of the alums from my high school currently attends Princeton, yay for localization. I also know a few people off the top of my head who would freely give me a speech on the topic.
But I have to rely on my own words. Damn. Quoting others can be so much more fun, maybe because then the responsibility does not lie with me. Which is horrible. I am supposed to be all about individual responsibility.
It is so nice to be temporarily decided, though.
Love,
Mandy
PS-I fully intend to write a nice letter back to Syracuse telling them just how much the scholarship offer meant to me. Because it really does mean a lot; I felt like they got to know me well, both my faults and my strengths. I never had to be artificial or anything but sincere, they encouraged me to list off the journalists I most despise and expressed horror at the right moments. The only bad part is it all feels so personal and I feel cruel turning down the offer. They tried to hand me the moon and I said I wanted a planet, something a little farther out.