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The Rice Thresher
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Michael Nalepa Thresher opinions editor After applying for college, I remember thinking, "Thank God that's over." I spoke too soon. Last semester, I started trying to decide what to do when I graduated this May. Graduate school seemed like a logical choice because I want to pursue a career in journalism, and I don't really know enough about it. And even though I'm starting to get a little sick of school after being a student for over 18 years, master's programs in journalism usually take only one year. And really, at this point, what's one more? So I sent away for applications. Most of the schools told me that all of their information was online, and that they had done away with paper-based materials. So, I hopped on my computer and proceeded to get totally lost. Some schools had all of the information up front with easy to follow instructions. Others made finding out how to apply almost a criteria for acceptance. It was like an Easter egg hunt. Once I found most of the vital information, I realized that I had to take the Graduate Record Examination. If you ever sit up late at night reminiscing about the SAT, then the GRE is what's been missing from your life. It's just like the SAT, with a dash of crack thrown in. And you can take the GRE whenever you want. I had a friend who called the GRE hotline and took the test the next day. My wonderful GRE experience took place in a basement at Texas Southern University at 8 a.m. on a rainy Friday morning. I was told to be at the test half an hour early, or I wouldn't be able to take it. I got there at 7:20. No one was there. At 7:45, same thing. 8:00, no one. At 8:10, I was starting to get ticked. Finally, at 8:15, someone showed up. I mourned for 45 minutes of lost sleep. They took my picture before I took the test even though I assured them that once they saw my scores, there would be no doubt in their minds about whether I cheated. Then they sat me down at my computer. This freaked me out. First of all, a standardized test without a No. 2 pencil and a Scantron sheet doesn't seem right. Second, the computer adjusts which questions you get based on the number of correct responses you have. Answer a question right, and you get a harder question. Answer it wrong, and you get an easier question worth less points. Needless to say, this was pretty daunting. But the end of the test was worse. After two hours of brain cartwheels, I was done. Then, two buttons appeared on my screen. One said something to the effect of, "click here to see your scores and report them." The other said, "click here to cancel your scores without seeing them." Since I had dropped a $100 to take the stupid test, I chose to see the scores. I was relieved by their mediocrity. So now I'm actually filling out the applications and sending them. They include lots of fun things like a statement of purpose. I do not know my purpose. I don't even know what I'm going to have for lunch today. Some of them also have interesting additional tests to take. Last week, I had to go to an alumnus' apartment to take one of these additional exams. As if I wasn't intimidated enough going to a complete stranger's house, there were three Emmy awards sitting on a shelf in her living room. The student who took the test before me worked for the Houston Chronicle and had applied to the school before. All of this provided me with quite a shot of confidence about my chances. But I'm almost done, just a few more applications to fill out. Then, I get to wait. Out of the nine schools I'm applying to, only one has told me a date by which I will hear from them. This should be fun. Michael Nalepa is opinion editor and a Lovett College senior.
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