Just in case anyone is interested, I started writing for the Hillsdale Collegian this semester, which is Hillsdale’s weekly paper. I wrote three articles this week, two of which I found particularly interesting. Check them out.
‘The Patriotism of Silence’ is about the rather dubious history of the Pledge of Allegiance. Which, if you don’t already know it, this story is a must-read.
‘Car Explodes Near Campus’ is one that I actually originally gave the tip on. I had a blast (no pun intended) writing it, and it actually made the front page! Yes, you may now call me ‘scoop.’
‘Mauck Water Out’ is a short piece that I took at the last minute. I was pretty happy with how it turned out. I am writing a bigger story for next week’s paper on some of the eccentricities of Mauck Residence Hall, one of Hillsdale’s oldest buildings, built in 1927.
I’m having a great time writing for the Collegian and I think I will continue. Let me know what you think in the comment section.
You know where you want to go to college. If you’re asking yourself, “now what?” This is the article for you. If you are looking for a detailed step-by-step, then this article is not for you. My goal is to get you in the right mindset while completing the step-by-step. Also, the advice below is custom tailored to liberal arts institutions. Which, of course, you should already be considering anyhow…
This whole endeavor was prompted by a good friend of mine who recently emailed me for advice about the college application process—emphasis on the word process. I’m not going to lie: it’s an incredible chore. But don’t be discouraged! It can be incredibly rewarding and educational. The ‘wisdom’ that I am about to impart upon you *coughs* is the very thing I wish someone would have told me when beginning the daze known as my senior year. I will pass along my knowledge to you, anonymous reader, so that perhaps your senior year won’t be a daze for the same reason mine was, or perhaps not even a daze at all…
The key here is to turn that chore into more of a dance: smooth and graceful as you float across the ballroom floor. And what of your dance partner, you ask? Well, I’m glad you did. In this situation, it takes at least two to tango. Your parents are a godsend during this process: honor them, cherish them, respect them, laugh with them, cry with them. While they may not know all the fancy new ways to tango, they’ve got the basic steps down. Also, high school counseling has changed a lot since even my freshman year and certainly since your parents crossed the stage in one of those stuffy robes of [insert school colors here and here]. Counselors are better equipped now than ever to guide you through the application process. Get to know yours. He or she will come in handy. Unlike your parents, counselors are probably much more experienced at even the latest and greatest steps in the college application tango.
Like dancing, the college application process involves a lot of courting. Seriously, it does. More on that later.
*Cue dream sequence harp* It’s September 2008 and I am a senior at Linn-Mar High School. By this time I had a fairly good idea of where I wanted to receive my tertiary education. Alright fine, just in case my parents are reading this: I had somewhat of an idea where I wanted to go to school… Hillsdale was my top choice, and considering I am writing this from my campus apartment, it’s safe to say I got my top pick. But how did I do it?
Over the course of the next several months, I began the rather agonizing process of gathering applications, letters of recommendation, officials transcripts, unofficial transcripts, ACT scores, résumés, etc…not to mention all of those pesky little application essays. It can be a lot to swallow at once. The proper mindset is crucial to relieve stress and write effective applications.
The extraordinarily crucial element of the ideal application mindset is one that seems oh so obvious on paper, but often times is overlooked. Once I began to understand this, everything else fell into place. Coincidentally, the interrogative that best summarizes the extraordinarily crucial element of the ideal application mindset is exactly the same one of our general mindset: why. In this specific instance, that is, why are these colleges making me do all this seemingly bureaucratic mumbo-jumbo just so you can pay them to do something that you might not even enjoy at the present? Surely it cannot be because they are mean-spirited. Well, the aren’t and it isn’t.
They probably really do want you at their institution of higher learning. They just don’t know it yet. That’s where you come in. Courtship.
You are already interested in the place. If you are truly interested in it for the right reasons, then definitionally you should be a great fit for the place. So, what’s left? Convincing them of that.
Think from the college’s perspective: for the purposes of admissions, they are looking for people who are going places…people who will one day elevate the status and atmosphere of the college even higher than it already is. They are looking for people who will be role models and mentors on campus. They are looking for leaders. They are looking for people of good character. They are hedging on your future, and potential future positions in government, business, culture, academia, and/or community.
The only reason they use records from your past and present is to better predict your future. You are an investment. And they are prudent investors. Once you’re there, they have a vested interest in your success.
Think of it this way: imagine that your application is a canvas and you are Normal Rockwell. Paint yourself. Paint yourself at the liberal arts college of your choosing. Now give that painting to the admissions office. Demonstrate to them that you are going somewhere, that you are a good investment, and it will be smooth sailing. That demonstration, however, will take much work and creativity. You ought to start. Yesterday.
In the meantime, if you haven’t done so already, turn to your parents and counselor and repeat the following, “care to dance?”
I am now (finally) all settled into my apartment at Hillsdale and I have a few days of classes under my belt. I am really looking forward to my sophomore year. My expectations for this unique place are running higher than ever after completing one of my first homework assignments: watching Ronald Reagan’s 1964 speech A Time for Choosing. I have to admit, I have not previously listened to or read this speech. And boy, do I regret it.
The hair stood up on my neck as Reagan’s words echoed through the room. One might even say that I had a “thrill go up my leg.” But in all seriousness, it is incredible how history appears to repeat itself. The only things that seem to date A Time for Choosing are the players and cultural references; the message is timeless and the content still very much applies to our modern dilemma. Please take a moment from your day to watch at least part of this shining piece of rhetoric. I promise you won’t regret it.
And this idea that government is beholden to the people, that it has no other source of power except the sovereign people, is still the newest and the most unique idea in all the long history of man’s relation to man.
This is the issue of this election: Whether we believe in our capacity for self-government or whether we abandon the American revolution and confess that a little intellectual elite in a far-distant capitol can plan our lives for us better than we can plan them ourselves.
You and I are told increasingly we have to choose between a left or right. Well I’d like to suggest there is no such thing as a left or right. There’s only an up or down—[up] man’s old—old-aged dream, the ultimate in individual freedom consistent with law and order, or down to the ant heap of totalitarianism. And regardless of their sincerity, their humanitarian motives, those who would trade our freedom for security have embarked on this downward course.
Yet anytime you and I question the schemes of the do-gooders, we’re denounced as being against their humanitarian goals. They say we’re always “against” things—we’re never “for” anything.
Well, the trouble with our liberal friends is not that they’re ignorant; it’s just that they know so much that isn’t so.
No government ever voluntarily reduces itself in size. So governments’ programs, once launched, never disappear.
Actually, a government bureau is the nearest thing to eternal life we’ll ever see on this earth.
You and I know and do not believe that life is so dear and peace so sweet as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery. If nothing in life is worth dying for, when did this begin—just in the face of this enemy? Or should Moses have told the children of Israel to live in slavery under the pharaohs? Should Christ have refused the cross? Should the patriots at Concord Bridge have thrown down their guns and refused to fire the shot heard ’round the world? The martyrs of history were not fools, and our honored dead who gave their lives to stop the advance of the Nazis didn’t die in vain. Where, then, is the road to peace? Well it’s a simple answer after all.
You and I have the courage to say to our enemies, “There is a price we will not pay.” “There is a point beyond which they must not advance.” And this—this is the meaning in the phrase of Barry Goldwater’s “peace through strength.” Winston Churchill said, “The destiny of man is not measured by material computations. When great forces are on the move in the world, we learn we’re spirits—not animals.” And he said, “There’s something going on in time and space, and beyond time and space, which, whether we like it or not, spells duty.”
You and I have a rendezvous with destiny.
We’ll preserve for our children this, the last best hope of man on earth, or we’ll sentence them to take the last step into a thousand years of darkness.
We will keep in mind and remember that Barry Goldwater has faith in us. He has faith that you and I have the ability and the dignity and the right to make our own decisions and determine our own destiny.