Chicken Soup for the College Soul Read online

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  Larry Getlen, at Health Communications, Inc., Rick Frischman at Planned Television Arts and Newmann Communications who continue to help us keep our books on the bestseller lists.

  Claude Choquette and Tom Sand, who manage year after year to get each of our books translated into over twenty languages around the world.

  We also wish to thank the over eight thousand people who took the time to submit stories, poems and other pieces for consideration. You all know who you are and you can count yourselves as contributors to the finished product.

  Because of the immensity of this project, we may have left out names of some people who helped us along the way. If so, we are sorry. Please know that we really do appreciate all of you.

  We are truly grateful for the many hands and hearts that made this book possible. We love you all!

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  INTRODUCTION

  Dear College Student,

  We are excited about this book. It has been a true labor of love for us, as well as a complete education in itself. In the process of creating this book we read over eight thousand stories and poems and talked to hundreds of college students. The journey has been a rewarding one. We have discovered much about today's students and we are very impressed with what we have seen and heard.

  You have worked very hard to get to where you are and you seem to know the importance of the job that still awaits you. You are preparing to inherit a world with many problems; yet, it is clear to us that you have the intelligence and the heart necessary to confront and solve them.

  Being all too aware of the stresses and pressures you are under, we have worked diligently to give you a book that will offer you the inspiration, motivation, insights and comic relief you will need to do the job at hand.

  We have filled this book with anecdotes about the difficult transition from home to college and from adolescent to adult. There are stories about professors who inspire and students who excel. There are stories that will make

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  you laugh and stories that contain the wisdom of those who have been there.

  The college years are packed with so much emotional challenge. It has been said that people grow and develop the most during two periods of their lives: before the age of five and during college. Therefore, it is so important that you remember to be good to yourself and nourish yourself with as much Chicken Soup as possible during this important time of transition.

  So, here you go. A book from our heart to yours. May it give you hope when you have none, may it inspire you when you most need it, and may it remind you to take things lightly and never be so serious that you forget to laugh.

  We wish you love, joy, courage and the strength to persevere.

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  FROM A PREVIOUS READER

  [EDITORS' NOTE: The following story was submitted to us by a college student about her first day on campus.]

  Common Ground

  Towards the end of high school, when it came time to start thinking about what colleges I was interested in applying to, there was only one thing on my mind: I wanted to get away from home. I was the oldest of two kids, and had begun to feel the urge to be on my own, that I was ready to take charge of my own life.

  Even at the time of being accepted to Virginia Tech, I was excited at the prospect of starting over, with new faces, and new things to see and do. I had no boyfriend at the time, (in fact, I had just gotten out of a pretty bad relationship), and felt that I had no ties keeping me in my New Jersey hometown.

  But as the time arrived to pack my bags and prepare to leave, the reality of what I was doing hit home hard. I cried as I realized that I was going to be eight-and-a-half hours away from

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  everything and everybody that was familiar to me. I was leaving the town where I had grown up, and all the things about it that I loved.

  For the first few days after arriving at school, I thought that I was not going to make it through the year. I had yet to meet anyone besides a few random girls in my dorm, whom I was fairly sure did not even remember my name. After a tearful call back home, I grabbed one of the few books that had make it into my suitcase, Chicken Soup for the Teenage Soul, and I headed down to the quad to read a few stories. They had always been able to cheer me up before, and I was hopeful that they would now.

  On the way out, I passed another girl in the hallway. She saw the book in my hand and smiled, saying that she had the same book in her dorm room, too. I took a chance, and invited her to come read with me. Being as homesick as I was, she agreed, and we found our way onto the quad.

  Before we knew it, we were surrounded by girls, who, like us, had either read or owned the book, and who loved it as much as we did. As I watched the tears fall down everyone's faces and the smiles grow as we all read, I realized that I was not alone, and even if all we had in common was the love for the book, it was something to start with.

  The days went on, and I still missed homebut the campus was beautiful, the people were kind, and it became better and better as the school year continued. I began to realize that there were many people who, like myself, were homesick and just wanted to make friends. The

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  night we spent reading bonded a group of us together, and most of us still hang out now.

  The binding of my book is now ripped and cracked from overuse, but I still feel amazing when I read each story. It is unbelievable to me how many souls and hearts have been touched by the book, and how many spirits have been raised and inspired. It gave me hope for a great new beginning, and the knowledge that sometimes all it takes is one small thing for many people to find a common ground.

  Megan Narcini

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  SHARE WITH US

  We would love to hear your reactions to the stories in this book. Please let us know what your favorite stories were and how they affected you. Tell us if you want to see more or less of something in the next book and please tell us if a story resulted in you changing in any way.

  We also invite you to send us stories you would like to see published in future editions of Chicken Soup for the College Soul and Chicken Soup for the Teenage Soul III. You can send us stories, poems and cartoons you have written or ones written by others (from the campus newspaper, newsletters, magazines, bulletin boards, etc.).

  Write to us and send your submissions to:

  Chicken Soup for the College Soul

  P.O. Box 936

  Pacific Palisades, CA 90272

  fax: 310-573-3657

  e-mail: [email protected]

  (Please indicate ''teen'' or "college" on your submission.)

  We hope you enjoy reading this book as much as we enjoyed compiling, editing and writing it. It has truly been a labor of love.

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  1

  GETTING IN

  And yet not a dream, but a mighty reality a glimpse of the higher life, the broader possibilities of humanity, which is granted to the man who, amid the rush and roar of living, pauses four short years to learn what living means.

  W. E. B. DuBois

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  The Wonder Years

  [EDITORS' NOTE: This is an NYU college-admission application essay question and the actual answer.]

  Question:

  In order for the admissions staff of our college to get to know you, the applicant, better, we ask that you answer the following question: "Are there any significant experiences you have had, or accomplishments you have realized, that have helped to define you as a person?"

  Answer:

  I am a dynamic figure, often seen scaling walls and crushing ice with my bare hands. I have been known to remodel train stations on my lunch breaks, making them more efficient in the area of heat retention. I translate ethnic slurs for Cuban refugees. I write award-winning operas. I manage time efficiently. Occasionally, I tread water for three days in a row. I woo women with my sensuous and godlike trombone playing. I can pi
lot bicycles up several inclines with unflagging speed, and I cook thirty-minute brownies in twenty minutes. I am an

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  expert in stucco, a veteran in love and an outlaw in Peru. Using only a hoe and a large glass of water, I once single-handedly defended a small village in the Amazon basin from a horde of ferocious army ants. I play blue-grass cello. I was scouted by the Mets. I am the subject of numerous documentaries. When I'm bored, I build large suspension bridges in my yard. I enjoy urban hang gliding. On Wednesdays, after school, I repair electrical appliances free of charge. I am an abstract artist, a concrete analyst and a ruthless bookie. Critics worldwide swoon over my original line of corduroy evening wear. I don't perspire. I am a private citizen, yet I receive fan mail. I have been caller number nine and have won the weekend passes.

  Last summer I toured New Jersey with a traveling centrifugal-force demonstration. I bat .400. My deft floral arrangements have earned me fame in international botany circles. Children trust me. I can hurl tennis rackets at small moving objects with deadly accuracy. I once read Paradise Lost, Moby Dick and David Copperfield in one day and still had time to refurbish an entire dining room that evening. I know the exact location of every food item in the supermarket. I have performed several covert operations with the CIA. I sleep once a week; and when I do sleep, I sleep in a chair. While on vacation in Canada, I successfully negotiated with a group of terrorists who had seized a small bakery. The laws of physics do not apply to me. I balance, I weave, I dodge, I frolic and my bills are all paid. On weekends, to let off steam, I participate in full-contact origami. Years ago I discovered the meaning of life but forgot to write it down. I have made extraordinary four-course meals using only a mouli and a toaster-oven. I breed prize-winning clams. I have won bullfights in San Juan, cliff-diving competitions in Sri Lanka and

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  spelling bees at the Kremlin. I have played Hamlet, I have performed open-heart surgery and I have spoken with Elvis.

  But I have not yet gone to college.

  . . . He was accepted.

  Hugh Gallagher

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  Never Say Never

  I cannot remember a point in my life when I desired anything other than becoming a teacher. As a child, I played school with my little cousins and friends just so I could practice for my future career. But what I didn't realize as a child was how expensive my dream was. I came from a middle-class family, and it seemed as though we'd always struggled to make ends meet. My dream of attending the University of Connecticut seemed so out of reach, but I wasn't willing to settle for anything less.

  In the beginning of my senior year in high school, I began applying to colleges, but in my heart I had already made my decision. The University of Connecticut was the one. But a huge hurdle stood between me and my dreamlack of financial resources.

  At first, I was ready to give up. I mean, who was going to give me, the average high-school girl, that kind of money? I wasn't the smartest person in my class, not even close; but my heart was in the right place, and I was determined. I knew that scholarships were only given to the really smart kids, or so I thought. I applied for every scholarship I could get my hands on. What did I have to lose? And then my guidance counselor told me about the

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  financial aid system. I applied, but I didn't think I would qualify for that either.

  After the holidays, my friends started receiving their acceptance letters from colleges, and I eagerly anticipated mine. Finally, a letter arrived from the University of Connecticut. Feelings of fear and joy overwhelmed me, but I was ready. I opened the envelope with trembling hands as tears engulfed my eyes. I had done it! I had been accepted to the University of Connecticut! I cried for a while, feeling both extremely excited and afraid. I had worked so hard to get accepted; what if I was denied admission because of my financial status?

  I had been working a full-time job, but that was barely enough to pay for tuition. My parents couldn't afford that kind of money, and I wasn't going to pretend that they could. I was the first person in my family who would attend a university, and I knew how proud my parents were; but it was impossible for them to finance my education. However, my parents are incredible people, and they taught me never to give up on my dreams, regardless of the obstacles that I encounter, and never to lose sight of what I truly want out of life. My parents were right, and I continued to believe in both myself and my dreams.

  Months went by before I heard anything from the financial aid office. I assumed that I didn't qualify for aid, but I wasn't ready to lose hope yet. At last, a letter arrived. I opened it eagerly, but it was a false alarm. The letter requested more information in order to process my application.

  This happened over and over, and my hopes kept getting shot down. Finally, a bulky envelope arrived. I knew this was the one that would determine whether or not I could attend college. I opened the envelope and could hardly understand what any of the documents inside meant.

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  The following day, I brought the documents to school and asked my guidance counselor to take a look at them. He looked up at me with a huge smile on his face and told me that not only was financial aid going to help me out with my expenses, but I had also won two of the scholarships I had applied for! I was in shock at first, then I cried. I had actually made my dream come true.

  I am now a junior at the University of Connecticut, pursuing a degree in English. In the beginning of the new millennium, my dream will become a reality. I will be a teacher.

  I live by this quote: "Reach for the sky because if you should happen to miss, you'll still be among the stars."

  Rosa Torcasio

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  College Bound

  My son is a senior in high school, which means that pretty soon he, like millions of other seniors, will have to make a crucial decision, the consequences of which will remain with him for the rest of his life: Who will be his prom date?

  Also, at some point he'll probably select a college. In fact, we've already gone on several college visits, which are helpful in choosing a college because you can get answers to important academic questions such as:

  Is there parking?

  Are all the students required to get body piercings? Or is this optional at the undergraduate level?

  Is there a bank near the college that you can rob to pay the tuition?

  Most college visits include an orientation session, wherein you sit in a lecture room and a college official tells you impressive statistics about the college, including, almost always, how small the classes are. Class smallness is considered the ultimate measure of how good a college is. Harvard, for example, has zero students per class: The professors just sit alone in their classrooms, filing their nails.

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  I noticed, in these orientation sessions, that many of the kids seem semi-bored, whereas the parents not only take notes, but also ask most of the questions, sometimes indicating that they've mapped out their children's entire academic careers all the way through death. There will be some girl who looks like she's eleven years old, and her dad will raise his hand and say: ''If my daughter declares a quadruple major in Biology, Chemistry, Physics and Large Scary Equations, and she graduates with honors and then earns doctorates in Medicine, Engineering, Law, Architecture, Dentistry and Taxidermy, and then she qualifies for a Merwanger Fellowship for Interminable Postdoctoral Studies, does the Nobel organization pay her expenses to Sweden to pick up her prize?''

  I was intimidated by these parents. I have frankly not given that much thought to my son's academic goals. I assumed he was going to college for the same reason I did, which is that at some point they stop letting you go to high school. I tried to think of questions to ask the college officials, but the only one I could think of was: "How come these lecture-hall desks are never designed for us left-handed people?" Although I didn't ask this, because it's probably considered insensitive on college campuses to say "le
ft-handed people." You probably have to say something like "persons of handedness."