This past Saturday, I hit the submit button on all my applications for Ph.D. programs in mathematics. I ended up applying to five schools, which was narrowed down from the 10 or so schools I had on the shortlist for much of the fall semester. It will be a while until I hear back — March at the latest — as if, after my appetizer, the cook is taking a lot of time on a surprise main course.
My initial feeling was one of true excitement and relief. I had been working on these applications for a few months, hoping to submit them a little sooner, but I’m very happy with how they came out. Even with the non-refundable application fees and filling out the same personal information, past experiences, and letter writer pages five times, it was a very worthwhile and fairly enjoyable endeavor.
After that first wave of good feelings, I’ve gotten a bit more ponderous about the app process, and what it means for my future. My favorite thing about applications is that I know no one else will be submitting one under the name Charles Beall. My app is my own, and I feel very proud of the work I’ve done to get to this point. But the darker side of that is, now people I don’t know will have to judge the small representation of my entire personality and skill set against a slew of strong and impressive applications.
Will I be able to stick out from all the others? And if not, what does that mean? I’ve spent my whole time at Stevens with the expectation of continuing school at the graduate level, and eventually getting a Ph.D. But now is the moment of truth, and after I hit that submit button, it’s all out of my hands. The statistics aren’t much in my favor, either—many people who apply to Ph.D. programs do not get in.
I have to take a step back and realize that now is the time to wait, but not to worry. Submitting these applications was a big accomplishment for me, and now I have the opportunity to make more achievements in other areas. I can focus on finishing out my fall semester strong, on my senior research project, which I have more time to commit to now, and on enjoying my last semester as a Stevens undergrad in the spring.
And I hope that the surprise main course comes out to be a beautiful display of food. That is the best option, but even if it happens, there are many more things to think about. Will the food actually be good, or does it just look really nice? What if there turn out to be multiple options—how will I choose? These are tough questions, but I will be better equipped to answer them in a little while. Right now, I plan to answer the questions right in front of me, and that’s all any of us can do.
If you are applying for job or research opportunities, or (for some of my fellow seniors) who have already accepted offers, I want to shout out all of you for the hard work you are doing. I believe in you, and I hope you get to celebrate once you hit that submit button, and again when you hear back good news. More importantly, in between, I hope that we’ll be ok in the waiting.
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