Yesterday there was a letter in my mailbox from a graduate department I applied to. It’s about that time and I had been expecting the school’s decision. But it felt too light — a bad sign — rejection is smaller than acceptance.
I was right, at least. And though the rejection is an obvious disappointment — I wouldn’t have applied if I didn’t want to go — I do appreciate the brevity of the form, giving the usual bullshit (lots of qualified applicants, too few spots, we regret to inform you) and little else. They should have saved a tree and sent an email. I would respect that.
I call up Mr S to tell him. He’s surprised and more than a little curious about reasoning. I talk later with Mr K and it makes a bit more sense: the two areas of the app the school cares most about were my two weakest. Still.
I call up the parents and explain it to them. It’s sad, but the other two schools still look promising. I think I’ve become an optimist, god forbid, and I’m not as upset as I thought I would be. I can’t say I didn’t expect the reject.
I start getting on the cold weather gear, the plan being a few Beers of Condolence. The phone rings, though, and I’m thinking it’s my sister. But it’s not: instead, the director of graduate studies at another university has given me a call. This was expected, but not last night.
He asks a few questions. Can I talk more about my research interests? Well, sure, though I don’t really know what they are. But let me try and spin it. What made you apply to this school? Let me wing this…ah, that sounds good. Then he says they accepted me. He explains the basics of the funding while I’m doing fist pumps in my kitchen.
Twenty minutes after the first call, I call Mr S again. I call the parents again. I call Mr K again — I ask: you interested in a few Beers of Celebration? Damn right.
Hurrah!
I also received a phone call when the school I’m at decided to let me in, but they didn’t ask any questions. I wonder if your answers would have had any bearing — for example, if he thought you didn’t BS quite well enough, if he’d have said, “Well, sorry, we’d decided to let you in but…nevermind.” Or if he was just putting you on the spot. Or, alternatively, if he was just curious to see if you could articulate your interests, as they’d probably already read them in your statement.
Not to say I didn’t have full confidence in your acceptance to begin with! Just…you know, curious about how these things work.
Comment by Arwyn — February 9, 2007 @ 1:30 pm
I was fairly excited by this point, but I believe he said that they had already put the letter in the mail. My answers, maybe, affected the amount of money they offered, though. I won’t know until I actually recieve their stuff. It might just be that he was using the questions as an ice breaker.
Oh…sometimes I’ll ask people bullshit questions just to see how they react. When I first met my sister’s boyfriend I did this. The answer doesn’t matter, just how you handle it. I don’t know if this guy would do that, but I guess it’s a possibility.
Comment by Pris — February 10, 2007 @ 11:24 am
Congratulations! Love the new blog template, BTW.
Comment by Susan M — February 10, 2007 @ 3:50 pm