The Sting in Ivy

As I've continued my journey from the streets of Brooklyn to the huge campus that is Penn, I've come to notice something. When I first arrived, I was told immediately that I'd be competing with people who'd gone to private schools, paid for tutors, scored fives on AP exams and damn near a 2400 on the SAT. Penn was not to be played with. I took all of this into consideration. Of course Penn would be academically competitive. It's an Ivy League.

What I failed to realize was that everything, and I mean EVERYTHING, everyone does here is magnified to the millionth power.

In sports, we have top nationally ranked athletes from across the country.
In dance groups we have students who have been trained since they were five.
In choirs, we have former contestants from American Idol or something.
In performance arts, we have people with years of experience in musical theater and most likely have been on Broadway.

The list goes on.

After summoning up some courage, I auditioned for an A Capella group that is pretty well known on campus. Being that I'm now a sophomore, I felt a bit out of place and slightly intimidated by how high the standards were set, not only by those before me, but by freshmen. There was a girl who went on about her mini career in singing, acting, and musical theater. Others went on about their participation in high-school singing groups, plays, and shows. As for me, I had nothing but the school assembly events and selected songs on Sundays in church. All I had was a voice in my soul and a song in my heart. In the midst all of these trained singers, I felt raw. Inadequate. I had no idea if I was a tenor or an alto. I'd never practiced scales. I'd never sang with a group before.

For all intense and purposes, I was screwed.

Needless to say, I didn't get in. I was (and still am) pretty heartbroken. I wasn't given a reason why nor ways to improve. All I found was the absence of my name on that callback sheet. Bummer.

I'm not sure if there is anyone to blame at this point. Since my arrival at Penn, I've felt myself feeling weak in every field I thought I could compete in. Should I have been pushed to get singing lessons? Should I have paid for extra tutoring in math and chemistry? Should I have joined a track club to run faster? Should I have taken piano, or ballet, or jazz lessons?

I wish people could understand that I come from a background in which a lot of these resources are either 1) not available or 2) not affordable. I've been called out on not knowing how to swim, but if only they knew the scarcity of public pools and lessons in the city. I never wanted to feel like I couldn't compete with the best because I was lacking in those two areas. It's like I've already got two strikes against me when I haven't even started playing the game yet.

So, I'm left with two choices: Wallow in failure and complain about how everything is unfair or, what everyone else in Brooklyn (or even here at Penn for that matter) does, hustle HARD. Those experiences before are only minor setbacks. I have to keep reminding myself that I'm here because I'm capable of competing with the best. I will shamelessly march into study hall, head held high and book in hand. I will gladly be that student who annoys the class with questions and holds up the class. I will not be that statistic, that one black girl who drops out because she can't handle it. Or who constantly pulls the race card and accuses everyone and everything of being "racist." Not my lifestyle.

I'm going to be that one marching towards Franklin Field in my cap and gown, chanting to myself , "I made it. I made it."