My workday never ends at the same time. Emails in my inbox and piles on my desk aren't the only factors that affect when I leave work. The bus schedule is always on my mind because standing at a bus stop is not my idea of how to unwind. Fortunately for me, the 67a, 67c, 67e, 67f, and 67j take me almost to my doorstep; and starting at 5 p.m., if I leave on the half-hour, my wait for a 67 isn't long, provided I don't work past 7 p.m. Most times, I don't bother to call my family to let them know when to expect me, tthey're busy with their own hectic schedules.
Last March, on one of my uneventful trips home, the ride became very eventful when the door swung open at my stop. My daughter Lauren, a high school senior, was sitting on the curb. This was one of those days when I hadn't let anyone know what bus I caught. My immediate reaction was, "What's wong?"
"I got in," she replied.
Nothing else had to be said. We hugged. And kept hugging. Anyone who has gone through the college selection process recently can relate.
Applying to college has changed. Some say it's because the Common Application is accepted now by most schools. Others believe it's the college ranking system that makes high school students in Texas aware of a small liberal arts college in Maine. Whatever the reason, it's not unusual for prospective college students to apply to a dozen schools. The influx of applications has made it difficult to predict acceptances, especially among top-tier institutions. As Lauren was awaiting her decisions, a colleague of mine who worked previously at Yale told me that the admission director there revealed that Ivy League schools could throw out their freshman acceptances, then throw out their second choices, and still there wouldn't be a drop academically from their third choices. Carnegie Mellon is no different (see, News Flash, First Class).
As for Lauren, she applied to nine or 10 schools. (I lost count.) Carnegie Mellon wasn't one of her choices because she wanted to move more than two miles from home. At the top of her list was the University of Pennsylvania. Penn's decision prompted her to sit on the curb and wait for me.
I was so proud of her (and also wondering how to ask my publisher for a five- figure raise!).
Now she's 300 miles from Pittsburgh and just beginning to figure out her future—perhaps sociology, maybe international studies, possibly medicine. Until she makes up her mind, her mom and I must be patient. I learned that from this issue's cover story (see, Yada Yada Yada). Sarah Rubin, after graduating with honors from the University of Michigan, found herself walking dogs for a living in Washington, D.C. I'm sure her parents were a bit nervous about her future. As writer Sally Ann Flecker chronicles in the beautifully written feature, her parents needn't worry anymore.
—Robert Mendelson
Executive Editor
