12 Minutes on Ball State
We have 12 minutes left before Calvin Fletcher's closes, so we're writing as much as we can without editing about a shared topic: Ball State.
I didn't want to go to Ball State. I didn't really want to go to college, period, but I especially didn't want to go to Ball State. I had no opposition to higher learning, I just didn't want to leave home.
I've always been a slightly anxious homebody. I like what's familiar. I don't like change. I like to hold on to what I have and have always had a heightened (and morbid?) sense of what I could lose, whether it's through death or tragedy or whatever. I had no real desire to be on my own.
So I very grudgingly made plans for college, picking out schools that seemed prestigious enough and that weren't too far away from our home in Marietta, GA. But then my parents insisted I apply to Ball State, their alma matter, too.
By this point I knew they were moving back to Indiana after my graduation, so I had the added anxiety of leaving my hometown behind, too. Stay in Georgia and be near my friends but away from my family, go to school in Indiana and be near my family but away from my friends and hometown, or go somewhere else and be away from everyone and everything. These are not good decisions for an anxious, shy person scared of change.
My parents took me on a campus visit. While there I did an interview for a scholarship—I had to meet with the dean of the Honors College and write a half-hearted timed essay. I was grumpy the whole time. The weather was grey and rainy and gross and the campus was lame. I didn't want to be there.
I got the scholarship. When they called me up to tell me, my mom was ecstatic.
"Whew! Thank god! Now we don't have to worry about that."
So I guess that settled where I was going.
The entire time I was at Ball State I came home every 2-3 weeks. I got almost perfect grades (one A- in Telecommunications) but I was horrible at college. All I wanted was to be at home, where it was safe and familiar.
I didn't want to go to Ball State. I didn't really want to go to college, period, but I especially didn't want to go to Ball State. I had no opposition to higher learning, I just didn't want to leave home.
I've always been a slightly anxious homebody. I like what's familiar. I don't like change. I like to hold on to what I have and have always had a heightened (and morbid?) sense of what I could lose, whether it's through death or tragedy or whatever. I had no real desire to be on my own.
So I very grudgingly made plans for college, picking out schools that seemed prestigious enough and that weren't too far away from our home in Marietta, GA. But then my parents insisted I apply to Ball State, their alma matter, too.
By this point I knew they were moving back to Indiana after my graduation, so I had the added anxiety of leaving my hometown behind, too. Stay in Georgia and be near my friends but away from my family, go to school in Indiana and be near my family but away from my friends and hometown, or go somewhere else and be away from everyone and everything. These are not good decisions for an anxious, shy person scared of change.
My parents took me on a campus visit. While there I did an interview for a scholarship—I had to meet with the dean of the Honors College and write a half-hearted timed essay. I was grumpy the whole time. The weather was grey and rainy and gross and the campus was lame. I didn't want to be there.
I got the scholarship. When they called me up to tell me, my mom was ecstatic.
"Whew! Thank god! Now we don't have to worry about that."
So I guess that settled where I was going.
The entire time I was at Ball State I came home every 2-3 weeks. I got almost perfect grades (one A- in Telecommunications) but I was horrible at college. All I wanted was to be at home, where it was safe and familiar.