Reflecting on My Previous Obsession with Big-Name Schools

I moved back home recently after being away for five years and discovered the college offers dating back to 2017 that are still lying on my high school study desk.

Those admission packets were the highest honor for me as a high school student. I saw them as the symbol of my 18-year life’s achievement. The scholarships, $20,000 per year; the big names, NYU, USC… Before I received those honors, I thought my life would be doomed — I’d be somehow “lower” than my peers who had those things. Although no one needs all these names and titles to finish a college degree, owning them, however, as Chinese people like to say, “Gives me face when I say it out loud.”

Five years later, flipping through those offer papers again, they felt shockingly light in my hands. I remember I hugged my mom and cried out loud with a shaking voice when I got into USC—the school I ended up choosing—just like those college admission reaction videos on YouTube. The 18-year-old me used to live vicariously through those kids in the videos; but this time, I’m not even able to relive my own excitement by physically holding my own offers. They’re literally expired.

Having graduated from USC, still being the same person that I was, I realized none of those big names mattered as much as I thought. I would still do the things I do had I chosen a less selective, lower-ranked school. I’d still be drawing. I’d still be running towards my creative goals. I’d still be looking for a job. I’d still be lost sometimes. USC didn’t magically solve the problems I came in with, nor did it bestow upon me the positive qualities I already possessed.

Offers expire, other people’s praises expire, my “face” expires. There are other things that don’t.

What do I spend the rest of my life on after school ends? How do I schedule the 24 hours in a day, for 70 more years? When to get up, how to feed myself, what to work on during an 8-hour workday, how to care for my loved ones… These are the concrete building blocks of one’s lifetime. These questions cannot be answered by a big-name school, a 4.0 GPA, or even a big-name company on a LinkedIn page.

It was more relieving than disappointing to come to this realization. My life is in my own hands now. In fact, it has always been.