Three years ago I applied for The Theater School at DePaul University; I was an actor who was brimming with possibilities from four other schools but I had always housed some hope that Lincoln Park, Chicago would be the place where I would end up. In December of the same year I went for an open house and was blown away by the city life I had been searching for after growing up in tiny Port Huron, Michigan. In February I had my audition. I remember practicing my piece in a hotel room on Diversey, pacing back and forth as my mother listened and constructively commented.
My audition came and went- I hadn't had the greatest audition ever; in fact, it was probably the worst I've ever had. I never felt comfortable or never truly calmed down like I had done in past auditions, so many times before. It came as no surprise to me that in the mail I received a rejection letter from DePaul University in March, but there was a bigger plan for my life that I didn't know about.
When I said it came as no surprise that I was rejected from The Theater School, I really meant it. I had gotten accepted to all the other schools that I applied for: Albion College, Central Michigan University, Wayne State University, and Columbia College (Chicago). By the time my letter came from DePaul I had already started paying tuition for Central Michigan, the school that both my father and sister attended- it was a legacy, but I wasn't exactly thrilled to be in a place called Mount Pleasant.
My parents knew this. They knew I wasn't content with following in the footsteps of other people, particularly those closest to me. So, without me knowing, my mother had re-sent part of the letter that came with my rejection to The Theater School, back to DePaul University to have them look over my application to consider me in a different program. Two weeks before the National Decision Day, which was May 1st, and during my Spring Break that year, I received an acceptance letter from the school of Liberal Arts & Sciences, sending my life into a whirlwind of decision making that resulted in my withdrawing from CMU and starting my college career instead with DPU.
I didn't find out about my mom sending in a letter until this summer, when I got home from Europe, two years after it happened. Had she not done it, I would have had a completely different life, I would not be the person I am today.
Now, here I am writing this on the first day of classes Junior year and I owe a lot to DePaul University, and I'm not just talking about tuition (<-knee slapper), but really to what this institution has done for me professionally. There's so many opportunities in Chicago for me as a writer and performer and educator. I am a Chicago Quarter Mentor, a Resident Advisor, a member of Residence Hall Council for two (hopefully three) years in a row, a volunteer with the Neo-Futurists, a writerectorformer (writer, director, performer), and so much more. This city and this community has taken me under its wings and allowed me to grow so much in so little time.
Yesterday I went to my Academic Advisor to check my progress of my degree and to explore new options. I am ready to reveal that yes, I'll be graduating on-time with a Bachelor's in Creative Writing with a minor in Radio, Television, and New Media but also will be on course to graduate in two years with a Masters in Education. DePaul University will not only play host to my undergraduate degree, but the first part of my post-graduate. My life for the next three to five years is falling in place. I can call Chicago a home for at least that amount of time.
Before yesterday, I had too many options, but knowing this gives me an outlook on the future, narrowing it down to what I want to do most. This means graduate work people, and I can find no better place that I'd want to work at than my alma-mater DePaul University. What position you may ask? That information is confidential at present, but know that the wheels have already started spinning in the minds of a few higher-up's that can set me on the path of incredibleness. No, it's not my entire life we're talking about, but it's a decision that effects it. I hope this wasn't a let down for some, like LeBron's 1hr move to the Heat, but for me this is big step in a direction.
I remember being in Cairo and my friend saying to me that I wore too much DePaul gear- I was like a constant spokesman. In part thanks to my parents, for sending in the letter and the support, luck, and any other person who has played a minor role in my life I can continue to be a spokesman within the confines of the organization, and I could not be happier. DePaul University- the place where I had received a rejection letter from, is the place where I'll spend five years of my academic career, and hopefully more after it's all said and done.
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