Flash back to senior year of high school…
This was a time of best buds, of easy classes, of picking on stupid freshman, and most importantly, of applying for college. Throughout high school I prided myself on my ability to scrape by doing slightly less than the bare minimum. I would do my homework about one minute before it was due, I would take as many study halls as I could, and I would take any presentations as opportunities to ridicule my friends in a public forum. High school was an awesome time for me, until I started applying for college.
I figured I was a shoo-in at any world renowned university. As far as college applicants go, I was essentially at the tippy-top of the A-list.
- Multi-sport athlete (receiving about 140 seconds of meaningful playing time in each of them)
- Extracurriculars such as designing a line of “Guenther Security” shirts and drinking UV vodka on the weekends.
- A 2.5 cumulative GPA, proving that I wasn’t just average… I was average PLUS.
- A 26 on my ACT, which actually shocked a lot of people.
- Author of an informational Holocaust rap titled “Anne Frank Baby” sung to the beat of, you guessed it, Ice Ice Baby.
After receiving multiple letters of recruitment from colleges such as: East Burlington Community College in Colorado, Madison Tech in Wisconsin, and Texas School for the Blind and Visually Impaired, I figured it was time to start choosing where I would T.C.O.B. (take care of business) next year. I had limited my choices down to the following three schools: The University of Wisonsin-Eau Claire, The University of Wisonsin-Eau Claire and The University of Wisonsin-Eau Claire. I had toured the school with some of my best friends and we had all pretty much decided we would tear shit up as blue-golds the following year. There was just one problem. After my buddies had received their respective letters of acceptance from The University of Wisonsin-Eau Claire, congratulating them on trying so hard in high school, I received the following letter.
Please have your parents or a literate friend read this letter to you, and advise them to skip over any big words.
We regret to inform you that you are far too stupid to be a student at The University of Wisonsin-Eau Claire. Typically students at our prestigious university go on to become C.E.O’s of major corporations, astronauts, Nobel Prize winners, and close personal friends of Leonardo DiCaprio.
After reviewing your application, we recommend that you consider ending your education with high school. Assuming you don’t end up in prison, we recommend that you pursue a career in jizz-mopping, break-dancing or dressing up in a Little Caesar’s costume and waving a sign around outside the restaurant.
Thank you for wasting our time with your application,
The University of Wisonsin-Eau Claire
Now this was around four years ago, so I may have mixed up a word or two, but the essence of the letter is there. Having never experienced adversity, or even stress, I did not take this letter too well. I had always figured that college recruiters would understand that high school is kind of a joke, and that despite my awful GPA, I was decently smart. I was sadly mistaken.
Unable to cope with the rejection, I responded to their letter. I figured that they would take my bold response as proof that I was resilient enough to be a blue-gold. I explained that I had been going through some stuff during my underclassmen days at Henry Sibley High School, and that I had turned it around and essentially pulled my head out of my ass. I received the following letter:
It appears that you did not understand the previous letter, so here is a picture to better explain our response.
Stop sending us letters,
-The University of Wisonsin-Eau Claire
Attached to the letter was a picture of a dog pooping on another smaller dog.
It’s crazy to think about what could have happened in an alternate universe, where I was accepted to the UWEC. I imagine that I would have gotten deeply depressed when I realized how terrible Wisconsin is, and would have lost all my teeth in an effort to fit in with the locals. Eventually, through some type of butterfly effect, a series of cataclysmic events would have resulted in a zombie apocalypse and I would be left as the leader of a bad-ass gang of zombie killers, but eventually killed and eaten by my number-two guy. All I can do is look at my life now, and appreciate all the great things that happened after I received these letters. I am six days away from graduating from the University of St. Thomas with honors and as a member of the Delta Epsilon Sigma National Honors society and I want to say, Thank you UWEC, for rejecting me, because you sent me down the path to where I am right now.