My Path One night, as I was up late working on a project due the next day, I decided, with some coaxing from my friend Kim, to apply to UB for architecture. At this point, I was serving out my two years at SUNY Morrisville. I was getting A’s in design, so I figured, why not. I would have a killer portfolio so I wouldn’t need the two year degree from Morrisville. I knew I was late in applying, but I really hated Morrisville. I sent in everything and things were looking up. I found that they had extended the deadline for applications, had a great portfolio (everyone really liked it), I got two great letters of recommendation from my architecture teachers, and wrote a great essay. Well, my friend Kim and I waited around for weeks for an answer. Whenever we asked about it in emails, we were told to contact someone else, who in turn told us to contact someone else. After weeks of waiting, we finally received our answers the day we gave our final design crit. I was sleeping when my mother called. So you can imagine how mad I was to find out that I had been woken up to hear that I was put in the freshman studio at buffalo. I was really pissed. I started throwing whatever I could find, which wasn’t much because most everything was home already. I got in my car and drove down to the studio to get my sunglasses. Well, I tried to call Kim to see if she got a letter, and as I was, my teachers walked by. Seeing that I was agitated, Ms. Englot asked what was wrong. I told her what had happened, with Mr. Kelly standing right there. I told her I was going home to get the letter that night. She was more concerned that I would fall asleep at the wheel and tried to convince me to go back to sleep. What she didn’t know was that being the only senior to finish their final for the second semester in a row, I had gotten sleep the night before. I was so mad when I got home. All I could see was red. How dare they. Surely this must be a mistake. I finally got a hold of Kim while I was at home. Kim is 37 and works for a design build firm. She actually has buildings being built, and was getting the degree. She was placed in the sophomore studio. Her letter said the same thing as mine, “portfolio does not show evidence of upper studio work”. Everyone I talked to said it was bullshit. All except my professors, who kept quiet on the issue and said nothing. I was still so pissed. The next day, I emailed Thea, the admissions person at UB. She has been so helpful in this whole matter. Well, as it is now, I am still pissed, and they are looking at my portfolio again. I hope they would tell me to come up to talk to them. I know I could help my case so much more if I could show them that I do know what I am doing. Oh, and today I also found out that I did not get the housing I wanted. I had wanted to get shared interest housing. I would have gotten a double as a single. But because they had to have this very stupid card for housing that I had to fill out and send it, which didn’t have anything on shared interest, I missed out. By the time my email search had tracked down the right person, it was to late, all rooms filled. Now I have to put up with a stupid roommate. Nothing is going right. Do you want to know what my originally plan was? I’ll tell you. This was my great plan. I would go to UB. I would be accepted as a sophomore. I would challenge it and get into the junior class. I would be in studio with Kim, and my other friends at UB. Including Shawna. We are good friends, and I know that we all would have had so much fun. I would have been in the shared interest housing, living just down the hall from Shawna. But now, everything is screwed up. I won’t know anyone in my studio. Everyone will think I am an idiot, and below them. Especially the people in the studios above me. I want them to think of me as an equal, not a lesser. Now what am I going to do? I am fighting right now, but who knows where that will get me. Sophomore maybe, but not junior. Now I will have to put up with crap projects for a year. I did crap projects already, paid my dues. I deserve more credit. And the worst thing is that no one is being supportive. Not my teachers, not my friends, and not the person I thought would the most, Shawna. I cannot go on forever fighting by myself. I know my cause is noble, I know it is right. I am so alone in the fight. I have this perfect picture in my mind that keeps me going through all of this. I am sitting at a computer desk, typing away, and a girl comes up from behind me and hugs me. She is soft, either having very soft skin or wearing a very soft sweatshirt. She kisses me on the cheek and says, “I am so proud of you. You never gave up.” I don’t know why I keep this in my head. I am at rock bottom. I have no hope of anything anymore. I just keep on doing what I know how to do. And that is fighting. Well, that is my story, judge it for yourself.