The biggest pond

I know a lot of students at UC Berkeley who talk about having been a big fish in a small pond. It’s a classic story. You’re at the top of your class in high school, and then you come to UC Berkeley and have to compete with the best of the best. All of a sudden, you’re in the middle, or for some, at the bottom. It’s a cliche because it’s true. But believe me when I say that my pre-Berkeley pond was very small, and my fish stuck out to an extreme.

I was home-schooled for my entire childhood. From 10th to 12th grade, however, I also took classes at a local community college, and my time there was my substitute for the normal high school experience. To put it lightly, it was great. I got straight A’s, participated in the student orchestra, held the title of editor in chief of the student newspaper and even held a seat in the student government. Everybody seemed to know me, and they were all so impressed that I was only a high schooler at the time. When I got into UC Berkeley, I was confident my experience at community college would make it easy for me to adjust.

Of course, nobody is really prepared for UC Berkeley. Soon enough, the academic rigor began to challenge me; I remember the day I realized, to my horror, that courses here usually have multiple midterms. The number of opportunities overwhelmed me as well — there were simply too many activities to choose from. I was practically paralyzed. I only managed to get a position in the Residence Hall Assembly, or RHA, before I got too busy to think about anything else.

That first year went by in a blur. Though I hadn’t failed academically speaking, I felt defeated. I had been rejected by a slew of organizations, including the Cal Band and more than a few work-study jobs. I had even been passed up for an executive position in the RHA — a devastating blow after I had poured so much energy into that community. To make matters worse, I realized too late that I had developed few close friendships. On move-out day, I broke down and cried in front of my floormates, knowing that they were better friends with each other than they were with me. Before UC Berkeley, I was successful and popular, and now I was neither.

The next year, everything changed. I posted a meme song, “Classes Till 2:00,” on the UC Berkeley Memes For Edgy Teens Facebook group, and all of a sudden, random people on campus knew my name. Around the same time, I happened to meet a wonderful group of new friends — Sakura, Sheyda, Ryan, Eli and Annie — and we started hanging out regularly to play board games. I realized that I was finally on the way to having some real college friendships. Though I got rejected from some more organizations, I found my way back into the RHA. Things seemed to finally be going all right.

I was determined not to waste what I had gotten. That year, I was obsessed with making the most of all my new friendships, as well as my newfound prominence in UC Berkeley meme culture. I skimped out on study time, sacrificed my sleep and even skipped class to make time to hang out with friends and put hours into the RHA. In the spring, the original Overheard at UC Berkeley Facebook group was deleted, and I leveraged my meme notoriety to become the admin of its replacement. In the summer, I started the Confessions from UC Berkeley page, and my UC Berkeley fame grew larger still. I was back on top, and it felt great.

Unfortunately, all that had come at a cost. I slept through two midterms that year, and my grades slipped from A’s to B’s. I had failed to make good connections with my professors and hadn’t lined up any internships for the summer. And as I continued this lifestyle of dropping everything for my friends, extracurriculars and social media pages, my academics only got worse. I got my first C’s during my junior year, and that turned into a pattern. I was finding it harder and harder to focus on school. I couldn’t admit it even to myself, but I was burning out.

My life plan, since midway through high school, has been to get a doctorate in applied mathematics. Throughout college, I told myself I was still doing everything to pursue that goal. But I stand before you now, in my final semester, without a single acceptance letter from any of the nine graduate programs I applied to. My record, I suppose, spoke for itself. I simply hadn’t focused enough on my subject of choice. You can’t get away with that at most schools, let alone UC Berkeley or grad school.

I won’t complain for too long about how things turned out, though. I’ve made some friendships that will last a lifetime, I’ve made a real impact through both the RHA and the Facebook pages I started and I’ve even gotten the privilege of telling my college stories in this very publication. I can’t put into words just how lucky I feel to be where I am today, grad school or not. Amazingly, I feel like I was able to grow into a fish of a size to match UC Berkeley’s immense pond. I am so grateful to UC Berkeley and all of its people, but I am so sad to leave. All I can say now is goodbye.