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Unafraid at Barnard

Read through blog posts written by Barnard students about life at Barnard

Why I Chose Barnard in Regular Decision: Hazel's Story

Growing up on 112th street, the mere thought of me attending Barnard College was a joke. I was an extremely adventurous child and in my kid brain, college was another adventure. And for it to be an adventure, I had to be far, far away from my parents and the safety of Morningside Heights. College could not be four blocks away from where I lived.

I loved my neighborhood -- everything from the bodega cat to the view of the Hudson River. I also loved the occupants of Morningside Heights: they lacked the “new money” glamour of the Upper East Side in a charming, down-to-earth way and they recognized the value of a good bagel. These were my people. And I loved them.

As much as I loved the “townies”, I came to love the students as well. On every corner was some twenty-year-old in a beanie with their face stuffed in Baudelaire poetry. As I scarfed down frozen yogurt at Pinkberry, I would be eavesdropping on two girls in Barnard gear, workshopping their senior theses. 

When it came time for me to begin to think of life after high school, life after Morningside Heights, I became preoccupied with my list of twelve schools. My parents shot down Scotland and Los Angeles but accepted all my midwestern and northeastern desires. But there was one school missing.

“Where’s Barnard?”

I thought they were joking. Why would I apply to Barnard? I had nothing but respect for the school, but it’s a five-minute walk from where I’d spent the last nineteen years. I rejected the suggestion, but they were persistent. Yes, I loved attending the Athena Film Festival in the Diana Event Oval.  And I did just go to the Barnard Zine Fest and thoroughly enjoyed myself. My math tutor was a Barnard student. I took swim lessons at the Barnard pool when I was six.

“I see that Barnard is a great school, but it’s too familiar. Too safe,” I explained to my parents. They accepted their defeat, understanding that at the end of the day, my college application journey was my journey, not theirs. Even if they thought I was missing one great school, it was up to me. But after mulling it over for a few days later, I accepted that there was no harm in just applying. Besides, the essay prompts seemed fun.

I began inspecting websites and brochures, trying to find the perfect school and write the perfect essays. I longed for adventure, a challenge, something life-altering. I knew that college was going to be exciting wherever I went. But I wanted more than excitement. I convinced myself that the perfect school was going to magically transform me into who I wanted to be. I would go from a high school student with limited experiences to a college graduate who embodied all the intellect, the passion, the leadership and of course, wealth of experiences that I yearned for. I would settle for nothing less than perfection.

When college acceptance letters were released, I was shocked and incredibly grateful that I was accepted to Barnard, but then my feelings began to complicate. Why would they let me in? I felt guilty. I wasn’t even going to go to Barnard and I just took someone’s “spot.” 

“Why wouldn’t you go?” A fellow classmate said to me as I shared the news with her. “Barnard’s a really great school.”

“It’s four blocks away from where I live.” Duh. I couldn’t go.

“So?” She said.  Fair point. Why couldn’t I go? If I’ve made it this far, I might as well look at it more in-depth. I’d read the statistics on the school, interviewed, walked through the campus hundreds of times, but I just kept coming back to this one fact: “It’s four blocks away.” It became the school’s defining feature for me. But location is one aspect of any school. They let me in for a reason; they thought I was a good fit for Barnard. I RSVP’d to the Barnard Accepted Students Day with hesitation, but eager to find another descriptor for the school, besides “four blocks away from my house.”

What occurred was perhaps not “love at a hundredth sight,” but it was pretty close. A total 180o turn. For me, it began by talking to the current students. After attending a handful of accepted students' days, I was used to the drill, but I was not used to the enthusiasm that these Barnard students had. I talked to a pre-dental student, who gushed about Hillel. Not exactly my interests, but I was amazed at how genuinely excited she was to tell me about her first-year seminar. Then an art history student from Rio de Janeiro sauntered over, sharing her pastry Instagram with me. I looked around at all the current students, each with vastly different interests, different backgrounds, different clothes, different everything, but they were all so passionate about Barnard. They were all so passionate about each other as Barnard students. I thought about my hopes for an “adventure”. For me, the adventure was clear: getting to learn aside such smart, enthusiastic students who were not exactly like me. I couldn’t believe what I was feeling. It was like Atlantis had been in front of me the whole time -- the challenge I’d hope for was always four blocks away. I was really excited to get fully immersed in this community.

As a Barnard junior, this sentiment remains: I am so amazed by my fellow Barnard students. The faculty, admissions, the curriculum, the environment facilitates a place that enables a diversity of thought and experiences. Barnard facilitates this “adventure.” I can only hope I come off as genuinely passionate about the school as the Barnard students I met were, four years ago. Now, as a Barnard tour guide, I get to talk to some hesitant prospective students regularly: Barnard attracts a wide range of students as a historically women’s small liberal arts college in a larger co-ed research university in bustling New York City’s quiet, quaint Morningside Heights. In short, if you are passionate about learning, Barnard is for you. And even if you live four blocks away, Barnard is still an adventure. 

-Hazel Streeter

Guest Student Author