I was rejected from USC's music school, and I'm grateful
When I was a senior in high school, going to college in California was the biggest goal I’d ever set for myself. Getting into college was important, but for me, I couldn’t just go to any school that accepted me. I didn’t even think about applying to UVA until the last minute. In my head, I was convinced that Los Angeles was the only place for me. Sometimes, I still feel that way. I still harbor that dream of living and working in Los Angeles, and I keep it very close to my heart. But I’ve learned to be realistic with my expectations for LA, and I wish I could have told that to high -school me.
Back then, it wasn’t just enough for me to get into USC (which has a 17.7% acceptance rate as is). I wanted to get into the Thornton School of Music and major in Popular Music. Among USC students, the chance of getting into that program is 20%. At the time that I was applying to colleges, I was also working on my first album, Chronicle. Immersing myself in music day in and day out set high, idealistic expectations for my career as a musician. The Thornton School seemed like the only choice I had if I wanted to be a serious musician in LA. I mean, they had amazing guest speakers. Graduates went on to be famous. It was my dream.
That’s the thing with dreams: they often aren’t realistic. USC Thornton School of Music got my hopes up…high. I visited the school twice (on two separate trips. And two separate flights to California are not cheap), I slaved over my audition videos, hiring two young filmmakers in the grade below me to shoot high-res takes of me playing a glossy piano and singing my songs. Initially, I wasn’t invited back to USC for an in-person audition, which was the next step in the process. This is where I began to “pull strings” to gain consideration for USC (which I’ve recently learned is a trend among USC admits). My godfather is a prominent man in the LA music world, and was able to convince one of the Thornton professors to give my songs another chance. They ended up inviting me back for an in-person audition. It was the most exciting moment of my life.
And I was still rejected.
I still think about why I was rejected, and who rejected me. If it was the music professors who said no, was it because I wore Converse to the audition? Were the songs lame? I still think about how they made me write a song on the spot. That was hard. But if it was the administration who rejected me, was it because I wasn’t smart enough? Well-rounded enough? Rich enough? I am by no means from a poor family, but my parents couldn’t pay full tuition at USC. I wouldn’t have received any financial aid from the school. And it was irresponsible for me to take out loans of that value. So if it was for money, why? If I was good enough to get into the songwriting program, why did my monetary abilities hold me back from such an opportunity?
In the wake of this college scandal surrounding USC, I’ve realized that no school, no matter the opportunities it may provide you, can guarantee your success. Did you know that some USC students are also unemployed after graduation, just like the rest of us? The whole admissions sham forced me to recount that moment I got rejected from my dream school, and forced me to think about why USC was so idealized and perfect in my head. It makes sense: the weather is amazing, the campus is pristine, the connections and famous people in the faculty would set me up for life. But in reality, no college is perfect. Looking back, I’m glad I went to a school like Virginia. A state school. A public school. In-state tuition. There’s no Popular Music major, there aren’t many celebrities walking around, and the weather is finicky. UVA has flaws in its own way – to many people, it's also considered elitist and exclusive. They wouldn't be entirely wrong. But UVA practices the values that I know I needed to cultivate to become a good person – a better person.
My mom sent me this article outlining how USC social life cultivates a large gap between rich and poor students, and it made me wonder what my time at USC would have been like. Fancy dinners in LA, expensive sororities, fame. It highlights a social life that fosters exclusivity and privilege – something that exists in a school like UVA, as well. I come from a financially independent family, and I went to private school, and I studied abroad. I had unpaid internships. I can ask my parents for help, and I’m grateful for that. But even at UVA, there are times where I wonder how my friends can afford to live the lifestyles they live. In-state tuition granted me more financial freedom, but even so, I don’t live a lavish lifestyle in college. I have a job as a waitress. I drive a Subaru Forester with a big dent in the side, and it makes weird noises sometimes. I don’t go on fancy, all-inclusive trips. And to be honest, missing those trips has made me feel less than, self-conscious, like I’ll never live up to a social scene that I desperately feel like I need to reach. The apartments here? So expensive.
I look at myself now, and I look at the wealth that exists around UVA, and I wonder what the insane amount of wealth that exists at USC would mean for me. Would they have accepted me? What would my social life look like? Would I really be happier? Would I really be on my way to becoming a famous musician? Most importantly: what would my values be?
It’s easy to read this and think that I’m still bitter that I didn’t get into the prestigious music school. Obviously, I don’t go to USC. I don’t know the culture from the inside – only from the outside looking in. But I can tell you that the identity that I’ve made for myself here, at my public state school, would never have been crafted at a school like that. And it’s for the better. I still write songs every day, and I still dream of California, one day. But I know better than to break my neck trying to live up to a level of exclusivity that can only be amassed by large amounts of wealth and privilege. I’m privileged enough to even be receiving a college education, especially from a school like UVA. Dreams can’t always become reality, but when they don’t, it’s probably for a reason.
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