On the first Sunday of February 2014, I became a Gashora girl. Less than a week prior to that, I received my admission to Gashora Girls Academy of Science and Technology (GGAST). I had had a perfect score in the national exams, and had a place in two other schools: Ecole des Sciences de Byimana and Cornerstone Leadership Academy. To be honest, I didn’t like Ecole des Sciences; I had chosen it because of parental pressure. It was the "best school” in the country, and I deserved nothing but the best- according to my parents. However, I studied my ordinary level at a neighboring school, Groupe Scolaire Notre Dame de Lourdes Byimana, which happened to be its rival. I grew to despise the school, and had learnt many horror stories about it- like the student abuse, duly named as instilling discipline. In addition, it seemed to be the stereotypical "all work and no play" kind of school. I loved the cornerstone leadership Academy. I had sweated to get admitted there, for I had done a written test and interview. The interview was a disaster, but I think they liked my honesty. I neither sang or danced, nor played a sport or an instrument. They asked me what made me unique, and after rambling for a while, I excused myself and told them that I was just an ordinary girl. After the interview, I knew I wouldn't get in. When I received the call telling me that I was admitted, I was on cloud nine. As a bonus, Cornerstone leadership academy was a co-ed school. However, I would have to major in Mathematics, Chemistry and Biology- a combination I had no passion for. I did not know much about GGAST, I saw it as a school of rich spoiled girls. However my mother saw it differently. After a long time of analyzing pros and cons of each school, my mom and I chose Gashora Girls Academy.
Even though we chose GGAST, I had mixed feelings about it- feelings that would haunt me for the rest of my high school. The school fees were very high, even though I had received financial aid. The amount I paid per term could have easily covered two years of education at my former school. In addition to that, my father was studying abroad to complete his PHD in linguistics, so my mom was the sole bread owner. To make matters worse, I might have studied for free at Cornerstone leadership academy. We had less than two days to buy all materials needed for school. Fortunately, GGAST had given us a list of things to bring that covered everything. Unfortunately, the list was very long, so it was very expensive to buy everything. My heart sank a little more after every Payment my mom made. I knew I would have to pay it back by being the best I can ever be. The day finally arrived to go to my newest school. As we entered, I thought I had gone in an alternative universe. The fence was made of perfectly cut plant of some kind. Everyone was nice, even the teachers. It was hard to distinguish the school staff from the students, because they were not dressed in uniforms. After picking my uniform and making my bed, I went to explore. I was thunderstruck. The dining hall was amazing with flowers on every table and a huge flat screen TV in the back. The first thing I was told when by girls who were studying there was to "grab opportunities." There were many chances to be better and do better at Gashora; we just had to take those chances.
The imposter syndrome kicked in real fast. I am a naturally introverted person. I would rather read a book than socialize. It was hard for me to connect with my classmates because we had very different backgrounds and interests. So I poured myself in academics and books- when I was not reading a novel, I was studying. Things worked out well until they didn't. We had to be pro-active, something I didn't know how to be. We were haunted by ideals of having perfect co-curricular activities, leadership skills and academic performance. My academics were really good; I had the first position in my class. However, that is where my expertise ended. My mediocre attempt at being in the school prefectorial body left me scarred. I wanted to become the academic prefect, but we were many on that post, and I was eliminated during the interview. My sports venture weren't any better. I was part of the volleyball team, but I dropped out after realizing that I shall never be good at it. In addition I hated organized sports and team dynamics. I was part of some clubs alright. However, I was the member who was never noticed and was there to increase the numbers. I felt like I did not belong in such a highly competitive environment. From a tender age, I was told that my academic excellence would take me places; but at that time I knew I had to be more than just excellent in academics- I had to be excellent in everything.
Things went from bad to worse when I was approaching the finish line. I had tried out many ventures, some had succeeded and others failed. One of the successes was to be admitted in the first of its kind WiSci STEAM camp and being the second best in mathematics at national level. I had been rejected from the Yale Young African Scholars, and had failed to apply for summer programs. The last year of high school was very intense, with lots of things to complete. We had to get ready for national exams, while at the same time preparing our college applications. The college application process is physically, emotionally and financially draining. We had to prep and take standardized tests, write personal essays and find recommenders. Sometimes we had to work on projects that would give us the edge in the applicant pool. I had failed to write a personal essay, every attempt I made seemed impersonal and fake. My standardized test prep was mediocre. Instead of improving my test scores, they were going down an incline. I was afraid my parents would have to pay lots of money from a below perfect performance, and I missed the deadline to register due to my indecisiveness. To make matters worse, the only thing I thought I had grasped was slipping by. I always prided myself with my almost perfect grades, but I was losing even that. No matter how much time I spent studying, I felt more ignorant than ever. My classmates would come asking for questions, and I would answer them referring to notes and books. Despite the fact that I answered them, I did not understand the stuff I had referred them to. I felt like an imposter. Every time they handed us our test papers, I was ready for a failing grade- but it never came. People noticed my predicament and wanted to help, but I was unable to word what was haunting me.
After multiple months of self-doubt, I saw the light at the end of the tunnel. It was in August- during the last term- and I had given up on everything. A very good friend of mine who was tired of seeing me mopping around gave me a lecture. I know that multiple factors came into play that day, but her words acted as a trigger. I started working on finalizing the project I had been working on. I presented it two weeks later and everyone was impressed. I started doing college research and fell in love with Stanford. A few days later, another friend designated Stanford as her dream school too. We had to find a compromise; two people could not apply to the same school early decision. A little while later, I realized I couldn't find my self-designated dream major at Stanford and decided to let her apply alone. I had decided to apply to MIT, because it was the best school in the world to do mechanical engineering from. In addition, Boston had a very big Gashora Community, and I would feel at home. During the application process, I feel in love with MIT more and more. I discovered MIT blogs, and would read them tirelessly. I applied early action and braced myself for the decision. I did my national exams in November, while I was sick. After everything that had happened, I found a family In HAM. The girls we had started together as strangers, I had learned to love them as sisters. The last day at school, we lit a fire and reminisced on the good old days. When I boarded the bus leaving GGAST, I knew I had grown to be a Gashora girl. I was no longer afraid to be less deserving of that name.
Even though we chose GGAST, I had mixed feelings about it- feelings that would haunt me for the rest of my high school. The school fees were very high, even though I had received financial aid. The amount I paid per term could have easily covered two years of education at my former school. In addition to that, my father was studying abroad to complete his PHD in linguistics, so my mom was the sole bread owner. To make matters worse, I might have studied for free at Cornerstone leadership academy. We had less than two days to buy all materials needed for school. Fortunately, GGAST had given us a list of things to bring that covered everything. Unfortunately, the list was very long, so it was very expensive to buy everything. My heart sank a little more after every Payment my mom made. I knew I would have to pay it back by being the best I can ever be. The day finally arrived to go to my newest school. As we entered, I thought I had gone in an alternative universe. The fence was made of perfectly cut plant of some kind. Everyone was nice, even the teachers. It was hard to distinguish the school staff from the students, because they were not dressed in uniforms. After picking my uniform and making my bed, I went to explore. I was thunderstruck. The dining hall was amazing with flowers on every table and a huge flat screen TV in the back. The first thing I was told when by girls who were studying there was to "grab opportunities." There were many chances to be better and do better at Gashora; we just had to take those chances.
The imposter syndrome kicked in real fast. I am a naturally introverted person. I would rather read a book than socialize. It was hard for me to connect with my classmates because we had very different backgrounds and interests. So I poured myself in academics and books- when I was not reading a novel, I was studying. Things worked out well until they didn't. We had to be pro-active, something I didn't know how to be. We were haunted by ideals of having perfect co-curricular activities, leadership skills and academic performance. My academics were really good; I had the first position in my class. However, that is where my expertise ended. My mediocre attempt at being in the school prefectorial body left me scarred. I wanted to become the academic prefect, but we were many on that post, and I was eliminated during the interview. My sports venture weren't any better. I was part of the volleyball team, but I dropped out after realizing that I shall never be good at it. In addition I hated organized sports and team dynamics. I was part of some clubs alright. However, I was the member who was never noticed and was there to increase the numbers. I felt like I did not belong in such a highly competitive environment. From a tender age, I was told that my academic excellence would take me places; but at that time I knew I had to be more than just excellent in academics- I had to be excellent in everything.
Things went from bad to worse when I was approaching the finish line. I had tried out many ventures, some had succeeded and others failed. One of the successes was to be admitted in the first of its kind WiSci STEAM camp and being the second best in mathematics at national level. I had been rejected from the Yale Young African Scholars, and had failed to apply for summer programs. The last year of high school was very intense, with lots of things to complete. We had to get ready for national exams, while at the same time preparing our college applications. The college application process is physically, emotionally and financially draining. We had to prep and take standardized tests, write personal essays and find recommenders. Sometimes we had to work on projects that would give us the edge in the applicant pool. I had failed to write a personal essay, every attempt I made seemed impersonal and fake. My standardized test prep was mediocre. Instead of improving my test scores, they were going down an incline. I was afraid my parents would have to pay lots of money from a below perfect performance, and I missed the deadline to register due to my indecisiveness. To make matters worse, the only thing I thought I had grasped was slipping by. I always prided myself with my almost perfect grades, but I was losing even that. No matter how much time I spent studying, I felt more ignorant than ever. My classmates would come asking for questions, and I would answer them referring to notes and books. Despite the fact that I answered them, I did not understand the stuff I had referred them to. I felt like an imposter. Every time they handed us our test papers, I was ready for a failing grade- but it never came. People noticed my predicament and wanted to help, but I was unable to word what was haunting me.
After multiple months of self-doubt, I saw the light at the end of the tunnel. It was in August- during the last term- and I had given up on everything. A very good friend of mine who was tired of seeing me mopping around gave me a lecture. I know that multiple factors came into play that day, but her words acted as a trigger. I started working on finalizing the project I had been working on. I presented it two weeks later and everyone was impressed. I started doing college research and fell in love with Stanford. A few days later, another friend designated Stanford as her dream school too. We had to find a compromise; two people could not apply to the same school early decision. A little while later, I realized I couldn't find my self-designated dream major at Stanford and decided to let her apply alone. I had decided to apply to MIT, because it was the best school in the world to do mechanical engineering from. In addition, Boston had a very big Gashora Community, and I would feel at home. During the application process, I feel in love with MIT more and more. I discovered MIT blogs, and would read them tirelessly. I applied early action and braced myself for the decision. I did my national exams in November, while I was sick. After everything that had happened, I found a family In HAM. The girls we had started together as strangers, I had learned to love them as sisters. The last day at school, we lit a fire and reminisced on the good old days. When I boarded the bus leaving GGAST, I knew I had grown to be a Gashora girl. I was no longer afraid to be less deserving of that name.
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