Yesterday I was invited to the Miss CEO reunion at Stanford to meet up with some of the girls I had attended a summer program with two years ago. I was a little hesitant because I didn't want to torture myself with that rejection any more than I already had, but the weather was beautiful and the school is still gorgeous regardless. At the very least, it was a photo-op so there was no real downside.
I had a wonderful time catching up with everyone and how they were now. We sat and talked for an hour and walked all over campus, but somehow, those sandstone walls had lost their magic. Even the fountains had lost their sparkle (but that's probably because they were trying to conserve water in the drought).
I can't deny that Stanford was (and still is to some extent) my dream school. But for undergrad, it was just that – a dream. Of course I still have a chance if I apply for grad school or beyond, but that's years away. I'm reminded of the Langston Hughes poem "A Dream Deferred."
What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore –
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over –
like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?
In retrospect, it felt like closure, or forgiveness even. It was Stanford saying to me, "I'll always be here, if you still want to come," but it was also me saying to Stanford, "You were a wonderful dream, but I'm waking up now and walking away." There's a time for dreaming and a time for doing, and I'm done with dreaming. Tomorrow I'll be visiting Berkeley, and hopefully I'll fall in love with it. It's where I'll be spending the next four years of my life, eating, sleeping, learning, making memories, and dreaming up new dreams. And hopefully some of them will come true. ◊
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