Even my most enthusiastically atheist friends, I believe, would be hard pressed not to admit the incredible (in the sense of not believable, defying all logic) events surrounding my admission to graduate school over the last few months. Perhaps, some would attribute it to luck or happenstance. But, those who know me well will realize that it was nothing less than a divine miracle that will take me to
More broadly, the last five years of my life have been a living proof of the words of Paul in the New Testament, “For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.” What appeared to be devastating blows, evidence that God was ignoring, or worse, uninterested in me, now, with the reflection of time, seem to add up to a carefully laid path. For me, it is a reiteration of the lesson that short term disappointments might be steps to our long term progress and that my sense of what I want and desire at any given moment is only loosely related to what I need in order to continue toward my ultimate goal.
Five years ago, when I graduated from university, a less than perfect test score on a standardized test kept me from following most of my friends into graduate school. I was very disappointed. I just didn’t have what it takes to get a PhD. Instead, I took a job in
I had planned to retake the test and reapply to grad school after my first year working in
I learned a lot during my time at this new job and also had a chance to work with the youth in my church in what became one of the best times of my life. Still thinking that I needed to go to grad school, I planned to retake the test once more after I had been at the job for one year; this would set me up to apply again and to start grad school after completing my second year working at HBS (the position was always meant to be a short term appointment and my mentor, as great mentors always do, encouraged me to move on to bigger and better things).
I studied diligently for months to be ready for the test; I tried to prepare myself mentally, physically, spiritually, and emotionally. I had to do well to live up to my own expectations and to the perceptions of all those who supported me. The day finally came. Nervously, with feigned confidence, I faced the test, my nemesis, again. When the long struggle was finally over, my results popped up on the computer screen. Shock set in. I had gotten the exact same score on the all important quantitative section as I had five years previously. My heart sank. I was devastated. This sealed the stamp on my head: I wasn’t good enough to go to graduate school in economics. There was no one I could call to comfort me. No excuses, no posturing. I had given it my all and I had failed. As alone as I ever have been, I left the testing center and walked into a grey drizzle near South Station in
Unable to apply to grad school as intended, I needed to find another job. My new plan was to work for one more year, study once again, and take the test for the last time. Another failure would be a clear indication that I needed to do something else with my life.
A breakup with a girlfriend and a random connection from my advisor led me to
And, through a very circuitous five-year route, I’m back to where I was when I graduated from college—intent on starting graduate school in the fall. My score on my final attempt at the test was not of my doing; I had never achieved a perfect score on any of the practice tests. So, why the divine help now? Why not five years ago when I first took the test? Why not a year and a half ago when I suffered a crushing defeat on a dark day in
Amid the unanswered questions of my life, two things I do know: 1) I never could have gotten into such a good program as the one I’ll be attending in the fall if I had started straight out of university. 2) I wouldn’t trade the people I’ve met or the experiences I’ve had over the last five years for anything in the world.
Even now, I wonder: Why must I start over again in