Everyone has been accepted into something, whether by a friend group, a prestigious program, or a scholarship committee. More often, however, we face rejection. That’s what makes acceptance so sweet. It’s so rare and, when attained, so fulfilling. The biggest, most painful, rejections are the ones we should appreciate the most. While they may have stung, or still sting, they are the ones leaving you yearning for success. They lead to the most change. Without these rejections and failures, there is no success. You wouldn't have the motivation to find the perfect friends, get into that program, or earn that scholarship. For me, I wouldn't have found the drive to become the confident person I'm proud to be today. The rejection that changed me the most, that got me here, was my rejection from the National Junior Honor Society.
In middle school, I had Straight A’s and a perfect 4.0 GPA. I took honors classes and breezed through them. From a distance, I seemed like an amazing student. But, if you zoomed in, all you would see were the good grades. When it came to extracurriculars, I was notoriously lazy. I resisted any effort my parents made to involve me in anything--from clubs to ballet class to Saturday school. I was in the mindset that my grades could get me out of extracurriculars, that somehow they were a punishment I didn’t deserve. Without any extracurriculars, I had absolutely zero leadership experience, let alone any formal positions. I did volunteer at my formal elementary school, but only because volunteer service was required. Besides, I hardly branched out from that one role. Without the requirement, without a doubt, I would have spent that time watching Friends. I did the absolute minimum for A's in school and barely anything outside of that. It was because of my grades, however, that I got a letter inviting me, along with many of my peers and close friends, to apply to NJHS. The letter generically praised my high grades, saying I was hard-working, bright, and exemplary--the picture-perfect student they wanted in their society. I believed it and thought I was a shoo-in--I had the grades, I got the letter, what else did I need? I was rejected, despite my confidence. Afterward, I realized what I did wrong, or rather, what I lacked in comparison to everyone around me. The application asked for everyone to list volunteer experience, extracurriculars, and leadership positions. As you can tell, I was lacking in all of those areas, which was the complete opposite of my friends'. To no surprise, they were accepted, and when I wasn’t; I realized painfully how inadequate I was. It was no wonder I was rejected. How could I get in with just good grades, when my friends--and competition--had that plus some?
The realization that I was to blame hurt most of all. It was me who chose to do the opposite of everyone else I knew. It was me who resisted getting involved. It was me who insisted on doing the minimum. I started to doubt my credentials, my abilities, and myself. I started to fear that I lost all chances of achieving my dreams. It terrified me because I was just as passionate about my ambitious dreams as I am now. I dreamed of becoming a fashion designer. I longed to get into a competitive school and thrive in a notoriously competitive industry. I thought getting into a creative field was easy, that all it took was some good ideas and drawing skills. But that’s the minimum, and this rejection made me realize the minimum isn't enough. But, up until then, that was all I had done. So, I set goals. I needed to be absolutely confident in myself, instead of a self-doubting mess. I needed to make myself a shoo-in. This rejection made me realize there is more to school than grades. Everyone around me already realized that, so I had to play catch-up. I had to shine against my already-thriving peers in as many ways as possible. As I’m writing this, it’s even clearer how much I’ve grown since those bleak middle school years. I reached and exceeded the volunteer requirement. I started a service club at my high school, of which I am vice president. I was chosen to fill the role of vice president of the National Art Honors Society. I continue to have Straight A’s, even in my four current AP classes. I even made myself worthy enough to get into the National Honors Society last year. To my delight, I had lots to mention when I applied. Seeing how much I've accomplished, I’m no longer the insecure girl who constantly compared herself to her friends and thought she wasn't capable. Now, I set bolder goals and dream bigger. I can actually see myself accomplishing the goals I once thought were far-fetched. Getting into my dream school, the Fashion Institute of Technology, in NYC seemed like a pure dream. Paying for life in NYC seemed downright impossible. Now, I’m brave enough to go for it. I’m confident I can earn enough scholarships to do it. Earning the "Angelica Song Rejection is Redirection Scholarship" would be a small step there. It would be an acceptance that gets me a little closer to my end goal. Or, it could be a rejection. There could very well be another deserving student out there, just as deserving of this money. Once, I would have let such a rejection cripple me. But now, as Richard Branson once said, I won’t, “be embarrassed by [my] failures, [but] learn from them and start again.” Acceptance or rejection, I will continue to believe in myself and persevere. Success or failure, I will make my dreams come true.