Dear Felicity and Lori:
When I was a college senior, we typed our applications on an IBM Selectric (if we were lucky enough to have a mom who access to one at work), and we used Wite Out to cover up the mistakes.
We wrote our own essays, we took our own SATs, and we ended up where we ended up.
And we survived.
We were blessed with friends who, with a most loving heart, recommended we read Frank Bruni when, during a rainy visit to Pitt, our beloved Beanie got a shitty rejection from the School of Her Dreams (Fuck You, School of Beanie’s Dreams! Like you would EVER have understood how miraculous she is!)
And we survived.
My kids did not go to USC, they did not pretend to be on a crew team, and we did not have $500k lying around for us to bribe some university coach so we could skip the line.
How did our kids ever manage to survive?
I don’t know, really, but one of them earned a Masters in speech and language pathology and now helps young adults on the autistic spectrum express themselves. One helps others with disabilities gain confidence and greater vestibular/sensory awareness through equine therapy. One hopes to help us better understand our humanity through the paleo anthropological record.
That’s what you do when you don’t live in Hollywood.
Love, A Mother Who Didn’t Pay $500,000 to Get Her Kids into College
P.S. Bill Macy, I thought you were better than that.
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