College applications love to ask about failure. Your first failure, your most recent failure, even your worst failure, and how you dealt with it. This question is meant to show growth and perseverance, how failing made you stronger. Two years ago, when I was applying to colleges, there was only one problem: I had never failed at anything before.
Obviously I had faced setbacks in life, from being cut from the soccer team in middle school to being cut from the school play many times. But my high school, despite its many flaws, was focused on community engagement, so these losses didn’t hit so hard. Instead of soccer, I was encouraged to join debate; instead of performing onstage, I was assured that set crew had a spot open for me. Most other clubs were open to everyone, which meant half the members were only there for their resumes. Putting in any amount of effort meant success and, by senior year, a spot on the exec board. With minimal effort, I was thriving.
Then I came to Tufts. First semester was a breeze, meeting new people and all struggling together. I wasn’t particularly ambitious with regards to extracurriculars, telling myself I would do more in the spring once I had adjusted to college life. Spring semester came and went and wreaked havoc on my plan, with GIMs and rejection. Tufts Dance Collective, 180 Degrees Consulting, Tufts Wilderness Orientation support staff, Tisch Summer Fellows and TCU Senate. Application after application got shut down. Between January and April, I applied to over 100 summer internships. I heard back from four: three were rejections.
As a first-year, I made the mistake of surrounding myself with older students. While they provided guidance and their friendship was invaluable to me, it also appeared that everyone else had their life together, increasing my personal desperation with every rejection. They had club meetings every night of the week; I had none. While the other first-years seemed to be finally settled into Tufts, I was spiraling in the opposite direction, feeling more and more like I didn’t belong. I was failing, hard and alone.
The amount of free time I had created a rift with busier friends, so I didn’t feel like I had anyone I could talk to about it. After a particularly rough night where I left a party in tears, I looked into transferring but found myself too late to apply anywhere. I had to sit back and accept that I was going to go into sophomore year alone, living in a suite with nine strangers, and with no apparent structure outside of classes.
But it wasn’t all bad. Rejection after rejection, I kept going. I’ve learned that no matter how many apologetic late-night calls I get, I’m still going to class in the morning. If my biggest failure was my first year, then right now I’m in my growth period. I’m excited to see where I end up.
