This evening, I enjoyed the blessing, (or was it a curse?) of having my independent proposal rejected. You may ask, where is the blessing in the cold, impersonal, yet-all-too familiar phrase I am sorry to inform you… followed inevitably by the trillion-ton anvil of rejection. To tell you the truth, I, myself, was unaware of any positives in this situation and contented myself to hunker down with some chem homework and wallow in self-pity. (By the way, this matter may make me out to be quite the drama queen, all worked up over such a triviality and most likely I am; however, I would like to refresh your memory to the last time you received a rejection. Not a pleasant feeling, no matter how unimportant an afternoon activity is.)

Anyways, it was there, between problems on ionic bonding and covalent nomenclature that I embarked on a journey of discovery. I checked my email and found a response from my project advisor, expressing the same confusion I had and dispensing a number of warm-and-fuzzies that chipped away at my disappointment. The next step was a visit to the best friend. I was greeted with the exact kind of aaaaws that one wants to hear in this type of delicate situation. With another hug, I felt a bit lighter on my feet and made my way across the dorm to my prefect’s room. There I found comforting maturity, the assurance that it will be alright and the promise that JV soccer (my alternative to an independent) will be better than anything else imaginable. Over cupcakes in the dorm meeting, I exchanged condolences with a fellow dorm-mate in the same situation.

All throughout the evening, the demeanors of my friends and dorm-mates buoyed me up. I learned that it is nigh impossible to be in an ugly mood at Thacher when you are surrounded by such a sturdy support system, which is, as I discovered tonight, always there whether you know it or not. Before tonight, I had never really relied on this system and took for granted the indispensable support of my friends. On a final note, I also realized that in another version of this situation, or at another school, it would be simple to translate any of my disappointment into anger against some impersonal, generic force…the man. However, at Thacher, there is no man, there are only caring human beings trying their best to do their jobs. Although I would very much like to pinpoint some force to be angry with, I recognize that the committee in charge is simply a group of faculty members. Teachers and advisors who I will see tomorrow at breakfast, maybe later in class, down at the sports fields in the afternoon and at formal dinner in the evening.

So, at Thacher, you don’t get what you want every time, but sometimes, just sometimes, what you make out of the situation can be better than what you wanted in the first place…. JV Soccer – Here I come!!!