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It’s an uncomfortable topic. It makes people squirm in their seats. Avoid eye contact. Talk in hushed voices.
This year it was a fellow classmate, whom I never got to know. A year ago, it was a young middle school student who rode my bus. Two years ago, it was a mother who was discovered by her teenage sons. Three years ago, it was an athlete who was known to be funny and was a friend to many. It’s a tragedy that people have to resort to suicide as the only way out. I possess an immense desire to pursue a career that will allow me to save these people from such a heartbreaking fate.
I hope to attend the College of Literature, Science, and the Arts to major in Psychology in preparation of either Medical School or the University of Michigan’s School of Social Work. But whether it’s to study Psychology or Neuroscience, I want to receive the best education possible and hope to do it at the University of Michigan. Each student at the diverse U of M has her own unique identity, his own unique story. The university’s vast diversity would enrich my experience of pursuing my career; my perspective would be broadened to ideas that wouldn’t typically be present within a lecture hall.
I took the liberty of visiting a couple colleges this summer, including the University of Michigan. I never understood how people could “fall in love with the campus” until my visit in August. The second we entered downtown Ann Arbor, I knew for a fact I wanted to attend U of M. I can hardly find words to describe how I felt. The atmosphere seemed so electric, just bursting with energy. Friends met for lunch at a little café around the corner. A student sat in the shade of a giant tree absorbed in a novel. As I observed these people, I tried to imagine what their stories were. What was hidden behind that bubbly laughter, or that aged book? Walking through the Diag, I tried to take in as much as I could—the majestic buildings, the rustic “M” embedded in the middle, the adorably plump squirrels scurrying around. It just felt right.
I used to try envisioning myself at a specific college, at a certain campus. I kept coming up empty—everything I pictured was so generic. Now I can see the Big House, Angel Hall, and Main Street of downtown Ann Arbor. Together, they create a place I would love to call home.
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