Today's post...a Fed-Ex for me!

The most exciting Fed-Ex to ever arrive in Magny-Fouchard (a tiny village in Champagne, North-West France) was addressed to me today. It was my official Robertson acceptance letter and details of the program!

The Fed-Ex was originally destined for my home in Maroubra, but had to be resent to my Dad’s childhood home in France, where I am staying due to ill health in the family. Forget croissants and éclairs; that bundle of papers was by far the most mouth-watering thing at the breakfast table! First year dinner series, involvement in campus life, leadership retreat, summer programs, mentoring and friendship...it all seems much more real and infinitely more invigorating when you have a piece of paper in your hand!

I read it all and got the pen ready, fittingly it is the first important document I’ve had to sign since I turned 18. My ugly signature has never looked so beautiful on a page.

Now I’m really eager to know...what’s the next step?

To be a Tar Heel or a Blue Devil?

  OR  

When dreaming about Robertson I had always pictured myself at Duke. I’m not sure why, because it was better known internationally? Or maybe because its grounds were Hogwarts-like!

I can be a bit indecisive at times, so when I had to actually pick which uni erm sorry ‘College’ to attend I was stuck. The private smaller Duke University or the public and larger UNC? To be a Blue Devil or a Tar Heel?

Duke has the better international reputation and gorgeous grounds, but UNC is also an excellent uni with maybe less academic pressure and more typical American college life. Whilst both UNC and Duke offer some form of International Studies, UNC has an amazing journalism school which interested me greatly.

I obsessed, I wrote lists, I stalked college reviews, I asked parents, friends, lecturers other Robertson scholars. I wanted to make the right choice for me, after all I had done this much thinking when picking a uni in Sydney.

Just when I thought I had decided on UNC, I changed my mind back. Since hearing of the scholarship I wanted to go to Duke, plus the beauty of Robertson means that I take courses and live for a semester at UNC if I'm at Duke and vice versa! So, I have placed Duke University as my first preference (Blue Devils!) but it will depend on what all the other scholars want. I would have no problem at all with UNC, I’m happy with either. Hey, I’m just dying to start dorm room applications and be allocated a roommate! (I’ve secretly already started brainstorming decorating and storage ideas!)

xx

The Beginning

On an old L94 to the city with wet socks from the rain I got the most exciting phone call of my life.

I was headed towards the Supreme Court, to complete my UNSW Law foundies court report when I was offered the Robertson Scholarship. In hindsight I might have responded with a tad more eloquence than “...What? Are you serious?” but I was completely flabbergasted.

I had originally discovered the Robertson Scholarship in November 2012 and remember thinking...wow. It was the most incredible opportunity: to study at two of America’s best universities, have access to individual mentoring and coaching, to volunteer across the globe for three summers and be a part of a unique and stimulating group of individuals. My mum and I agreed... it was the chance of a lifetime, but one that I thought was pretty much unattainable. I thought (I hoped!) I had the qualities that they were looking for, curiosity, leadership, benevolence and an adventurous spirit... but honestly so do many others. It was my dream scholarship, but was I the candidate they wanted?

I was intimidated at first by the prestige and selectivity of the program. Caught in a whirl of end-of-HSC celebrations, 18^th birthday and holiday preparations I didn’t apply straight away. Truth be told somehow I would always find myself back on the Robertson site, reading every scholar’s profile, Googling to my heart’s content. When I literally started dreaming about going to North Carolina – I knew that was it.   

Referees were rung, parents were spoken to and the application was downloaded.

I thought about the type of essays I would write: I wanted to include my longstanding involvement with Girl Guides, my time spent in France, my leadership and volunteering experiences and work with Randwick City Youth Council. I worried about how to make the essays clever, how to make them right. Then I got the best advice ever. My mum just turned to me and said “Write the way you speak, be yourself”. And I did. On my 18^th birthday I bundled it all up and emailed it off...(I think there’s something to be said for birthday luck!)

Driving to the Hunter Valley with Mum around 5 weeks later I found out I had been shortlisted. I screamed so loudly I think she nearly crashed! I had a crazy 24 hours of completing the American Common Application (forget the HSC and UAC this was an IQ test in itself). I wanted to be a Robertson scholar that much more. I thought that getting an interview was a long shot, but that if I did I would be able to really introduce them to outgoing- friendly-energetic me!

One month later I got the call for the interview, I don’t think I stopped shaking all day. I told my parents: Mum dropped the CD’s she was holding, Dad burnt his hand on the stove.

By this point I could taste it.

The day of the interview came, red lips, black dress and straightened hair. I was actually just as excited as I was nervous and couldn’t keep the smile off my face! The panel were lovely and I felt my personality shone through, but I left questioning myself; “Did I mention that?”, “Should I have expanded more on that point?”, “Was that the best answer”. Whilst the interviewers did send an email saying that they were very impressed with us all and were hoping to award more scholarships to the Australian candidates I knew my chances were slim.

Two weeks would be a long wait and so, in the meantime, I threw myself into UNSW life. Start of session parties, readings and friend-finding kept me occupied. So when I casually picked up my phone on that L94 I had no expectation as to who and what would be at the other end.

I’ll fess up: I was crying and laughing at the same time in the middle of the city in the rain. Totally drenched I attracted a few curious stares. Then the phone calls began, to my parents, my best friend and those who wrote my references.

“What would you say if I told you I’m a Robertson Scholar? I got it, I got the scholarship!”

They were the best phone calls I’ve ever made.

I remember standing outside the Supreme Court with my parents’ words of excitement and pride mingled with a little sadness buzzing through me. My legs were shaking like crazy and I couldn’t stand still. I looked around at my city, my home and realised that from this moment my life would take a path no one could have predicted.

It was going to be enriching.

It was going to be frightening.

It was going to be exhilarating.