Dear [School], Here’s My Soul in Six Hundred Words or Less
My greatest obstacle? After sixteen years on a dying planet, it’s definitely this essay. I’ve never felt smaller or more alone. The typos that Google Docs catches (or adds) will define the rest of my life. And Google thinks my name’s an error, so I’m not optimistic.
I’ve stared at a blank page for two weeks, after countless false starts about a made-up drug addiction and a math class I found difficult. Each felt like more of a bald lie than the last. So I’ll try honesty: this essay is killing me. Writing it is like typing on a keyboard made of knives.
When do the measurements of my worth end? I don’t have any standardized aptitude left to test. Why repeat the dance over and over again? We both know how this works. My rank’s below rich kids, and above Thomas Jefferson’s descendants.
But I’m writing anyway, because [School] has been my dream ever since Mom told me it was my dream. I was skeptical at first, since Twitter talks a lot about élite overproduction. After some digging, though, I discovered that that idea’s a scam to keep me poor. Much like [School]. It’s a bit of a lose-lose (money), so I’ve decided to keep Mom happy.
I took a campus tour to imbue my begging with a personal touch. Here are some descriptive details: the beer was cheap, the weed was expensive, and the sky was beautiful. I’ll remember that royal blue every time I think about my debt.
[School]’s work-study program presented a glimmer of hope for avoiding loan sharks. Then I learned that the student workers went on strike last year, and now they look broken. I’m already dead-eyed, so that wouldn’t be a huge change. But I’m guessing an incoming fast-food robot is cheaper, so the entire point is probably moot.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m still planning on attending [School]. I’d like to understand the news and have a job adjacent to dignity. [School] holds the keys to both, and the connections to exploit them. I’ll just have to moonlight in organized crime.
I can’t say that this obstacle has taught me much. This is my third written defense of my humanity this year. And, between job hunting, dating, and safety-school applications, it won’t be my last. I just hope that kowtowing gets easier with practice. Humans are born with a lot of pride, and it takes work to bury the last scraps of it.
As for overcoming the obstacle, I haven’t. Even after I finish this essay, new prompts will haunt my siblings, neighbors, and offspring. The climate apocalypse offered humanity a rare chance to escape the admissions process. But some thoughtless engineers in Switzerland have cracked carbon capture, a half-measure allowing mankind to continue to limp along. We’re stuck.
If [School] gives me a chance, I’ll study economics. Then it’s a small step to consulting and the board of an oil company. There I will dedicate myself to finally snuffing out the light of human civilization, and take down admissions with it. With education, everything is possible.
"here" - Google News
December 29, 2021 at 06:01PM
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Dear [School], Here’s My Soul in Six Hundred Words or Less - The New Yorker
"here" - Google News
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