Is there such a thing as a problem good to have? The situation at hand — I’ve been accepted to both Northwestern (for Winter ’09) and Columbia‘s (for Fall ’08) graduate schools of Journalism. Because both are private schools, each entails a long bill for one year’s course of study, something my parents may not afford. Northwestern’s in Chicago and Columbia’s in NYC, arguably the two biggest networks of information on the East side of the U.S.
Just six months ago, I had assumed my applications were lamentable actions of futility. With valid reason, I didn’t expect to get accepted to either institution, and my failsafe was a boundless, reckless expedition to a remote corner of the world (think Argentina or Spain) to teach English.
Of course, life took a sweet turn shortly after. If I ignore the mammoth costs of either school, my preference would be Northwestern, because her distance from Michigan is easily conquerable by car, rail or air. Both journalism programs are equally prestigious, though Columbia is naturally Ivy League and the accompanied honor of being in their 20% acceptance rate cannot be easily dismissed.
So far, every professor, friend, Michigan alum, professional journalist, and even Guolu, has told me not to relinquish the opportunity to attend one of these schools. Simply put, I may not get the chance again, and who knows what opportunities open up while attending one of their programs. Once again it boils down to cost, and if it doesn’t put anything else in jeopardy.
I shouldn’t forget why these wonder problems exist. Every trying moment of the past has been met with His grace, always led to a status quo that outdid the previous one. But it’s not easy to see the good when it’s so close to you. Maybe we (or only me) are too long-sighted to appreciate what we have. Even after I’ve been delivered every want and wish, I still show frustration and dissatisfaction. A while back I only prayed for acceptance into graduate school, now I complain about costs. When love also has been promised, jealousy and insecurity tell me it’s not enough.
Will it ever end? Or is this world too material, too cynical to ever attain pure, unadultered satisfaction and peace with all around us? Maybe a lack of faith is the issue – an inability to let go and believe everything will turn out for the best. This is my perfectionist persona acting up, trying to search for perfection when it doesn’t exist. That is my tragedy.