as i stood in a room filled with nearly 300 people -- each one of whom was older, brighter, smarter, and more experienced than i -- i was consumed by just one thought:
"who the hell let me into business school?"
gmat sentence correction; qualification error:
"who the hell let me into harvard business school?"
this past weekend's leg of the rock-star-nerd tour brought me boston, ma -- famous for tea, traffic, and joey from friends. and although some of my grad school visits have been deemed superfluous, attending admitted-students-weekend at harvard business school (known for short as "hbs" for those of us too important to mince words) was extraordinarily critical for when it comes time to make a grad school decision. my attendance this weekend had one distinct purpose: to gage the snobbiness and pretentious factor.
and in the words of martha stewart's failed apprentice series, whether or not i'd "just fit in."
and here's what i have to report: the pretentious, snobby, and self-absorbed people were far outnumbered by the really big i-banking and finance nerds. in fact, the majority of admitted students were just as shocked as i was that hbs actually accepted us. while humbleness was hardly pervasive, ambition and intelligence was.
i am both proud ... and horrified ... to report that i was wearing more tiffanys jewelry than anyone else there. everyone has some distinguishing characteristic, right?
as everyone does at these painfully awkward forced meeting events, i sought out a few people to befriend to chat with more than superficially between faculty panels, mock classes, and roasted chicken breast over artichoke and heirloom tomato risotto. naturally, i found the one girl from new york city with whom i could adeptly and successfully play jewish geography. and she works for the national football league.
if i go to harvard, i've already claimed her as my best friend.
to date, i have been rejected from approximately two top-ten business schools for no reason beyond my age. i have been rejected from three top-ten law schools (with three more rejections pending), but those eliminations have been for good reasons: lack of a clear purpose. yet until this weekend, i have never been the dumbest and youngest kid in a room. well at least never at the same time.
while no one laughed as i reciprocally shared my dream career goals with which i will pursue after attaining a dual law degree and mba, i have no doubt that many snickered once i walked away: "what the hell is she going to do in the nonprofit world with the ultimate powerhouse corporate degree?" i may not know, but don't doubt what i'm capable of (i.e.: tanning to look latino and wearing fake glasses to look older).
at some point this weekend, my potentially new best friend's fiance asked me why, if i had been rejected base on my age at other great business schools, harvard decided to give me a chance.
that's the $142,695 question, buddy.
i think i improv-ed some line about recognizing potential leadership and proving my ability when i leveraged my age to make significant changes in a mature organization. however, the only viable explanation i can realistically conclude is that there was a drastic mix-up in the admissions office on the day they reviewed my application.
i mean, this is the interview in which they asked me which ceo i admired most and what my greatest fear would be about attending harvard. in case you haven't heard the story: i couldn't remember the name of the ceo i admired most (& he is no longer the ceo) and i gave them an answer to my biggest fear about harvard which was labeled by friends as "pompous" and "arrogant."
and although the dean of admissions assured us jokingly in one session that "no one was accepted by any mistake in the admissions process," i remain unconvinced.
after all, no one really wants a kid to represent its institution who has to tan to look latino, wear glasses to look older, and part my hair on the side to look smarter. or maybe they just reward ambitiousness.
Monday, March 06, 2006
HARDvard-CORE mixup
Posted by: DBR @ 9:45 AM
ha ha..."Improved" and "improv-ed" are spelled the same. That's funny.
Joey can't possibly be from Boston. There's just no way. I might not be smart, but I know my friends.
Welcome to Boston, Upstairs Debbie.
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