Guess what? I’m sick! *sigh* Therefore, I have been trying to keep adventures to a minimum. I even had to miss most of a party that Women for Caribbean Development threw – the photos make me jealous. 🙁
Hopefully I should be back in the saddle by the online chat on November 4th. (yaaay!)
I did muster the strength to go to work on Saturday – money is a motivator for me. I gave what I hope wasn't a terrible tour to a very nice group. As I often do, I got the following question: “Why did you apply to Wellesley?”
And to be honest, I usually give the same answer. My story is my story; there is an awful lot I can do to change it, but I do try not to sound “canned.”
It started with the Wellesley alumni in Little Rock, Arkansas. Those women are dedicated. If you are a high school-aged girl that lives in Little Rock and you are smart – they will find you.
Once they do find you, they do what they can to win you over – not that they’re pushy, but they invite you to their houses and introduce you to current students and admissions officers and stuff you with juice and cheese.
In the midst of being courted by doctors, lawyers, and judges, I thought to myself: What is it about Wellesley that leaves people so committed years later? Why do these busy mothers and businesswomen spend so much of their precious time trying to recruit students? Wellesley must have done something right.
And so, I applied to figure out what that something was – and I think I have. Wellesley gets under your skin and makes you feel a part of [CORNY ALERT] a sisterhood. You can’t tell me that I don’t have some relationship to Desiree Rogers or Diane Sawyer, just because we’ve walked the same halls and experienced the same traditions. And if the alums are any indication, time won’t change this feeling, and one day I’ll be in Sam’s Club (or Cost Co, we’ll see what coast I end up on) buying a fruit platter for a new crop of smart high-schoolers, like ya’ll 😉