Educational Developments

Well, as some of you know, I have been applying to grad schools for the second time this year. I went into the process already a little discouraged after having been accepted to exactly zero schools last year. I reluctantly emptied my bank account of the money earned during my December break, revamped my personal statement, and waited.

Then I waited some more.

I got my first rejection of the year.

Then I waited some more.

I got my first acceptance! There was much rejoicing. And surprise.

The next month, I got another acceptance. Secure in the knowledge that I now had a choice of schools, Marquette University or Michigan State, I started quietly panicking about how I was going to pay for whichever school I chose. Marquette had indicated that, if they were going to offer me an assistantship, they would make the offer before April fifteenth.

On April twelfth, I still had not heard anything from either school about financials - other than MI state confirming that they would not be offering me any departmental aid. That's when I got my third acceptance letter - from Northeastern University. I began a frantic emailing of my professors asking for advice.Dithering happened. How would I ever choose between these schools?

April fourteenth. A Saturday. A day on which I normally do not come in and check my email. But I had been told by MI state that I would have my financial aid packet by the end of the week and I did want to see it, so I came into the program center. I read my email. I read one of them a few times.

Marquette University offered me an assistantship. This assistantship will cover my tuition, give me health insurance, and provide a stipend for the two years it will take to complete my Masters degree. I may have cried a little bit. With joy. Then I called my mother.

Wisconsin, here I come. There are still a lot of details to figure out, but I am amazed at the way God has led and provided through this process. I couldn't at first reconcile my acceptance rate last year with this year's, but as my mother pointed out, God must have wanted me to spend a year at Barakel.

And yes, these pictures are old. Remember, my camera is old and cranky. It didn't want to come out and play.