Forever Fighting On

When I was accepted into USC, obviously I was proud of myself. That had been my goal since late into my eighth-grade year. I didn’t think too much of it at the time I was accepted, being that, at least in my head, that was supposed to happen anyway. Maybe that’s a bit of misguided arrogance on my part? Maybe it had a lot to do with the fact that prior to receiving my USC acceptance letter, I had already received three other acceptance letters? So, to me, going “4-for-4” wasn’t unheard of and that’s exactly how it went. USC was my first choice. Oddly enough, USC was also the first school to which I had applied and the last school to get back to me. It was worth the wait indeed, though there were some nervous moments in the months that had gone by since I applied.

Mom was equally proud that I had gotten into USC, just as she was that I had gotten into those three other schools. Dad was similarly proud, but understandably nervous because of the cost that was likely going to accompany going to such an institution. After all, USC is a private university and it was definitely not cheap to go there. I still have no idea how they paid for it all, but they did and I shall be eternally grateful for their efforts. I paid them back by graduating and eventually securing a career. I can only imagine how much it costs to go there now. I could research it, but I don’t want to. I just know it’s probably still a lot.

Dad realized that going to college was a great opportunity, one that he was not afforded, nor one that he had pursued. He knew what USC was, though more for its athletics than perhaps its academics and famous alumni who weren’t athletes. Still, he seemed to recognize that being admitted to USC was a big deal. He wasn’t one of those simpletons who felt the need to tell or remind me that not everyone gets into USC. He and I were already well aware of that fact. I didn’t let the level of difficulty somehow prevent or dissuade me from putting in my application to USC and I went into the application process with all of the confidence in the world. Dad, in realizing that there was still a chance (albeit a small one as far as I was concerned) that maybe I wouldn’t get into USC, told me that there was nothing wrong with going the route that he did and enlist in the military. I was open to it. In fact, somehow in the months before my high school graduation, I had even been in contact with a recruiter (which is content for another entry). To this day, I still have no idea how I ended up connecting with that recruiter. Mom, on the other hand, did not see me going into any branch of the military. She figured that with my going to college, I could set myself up for a career, but ultimately one that would set me up financially, to where maybe I wouldn’t have to ever worry about money. Mom was always about the money.

And as they say, the rest is history. I enrolled at USC, did my four years there, and walked away with a Bachelor of Arts in Psychology. I had also minored in Sociology, for which I didn’t declare until the beginning of my senior year. Going into my senior year, I was eight credits away from completing the requirements for the minor, so I decided to declare it and finish it off. I was already more than halfway there anyway, so why not?

My brother would go on to graduate from Florida State University some years after I finished at USC. Dad would end up with both of his sons graduating from private universities. It’s hard to say where my brother and I would have ended up had we not gone to the schools where we did. I guess I always had it in my head that I would be college bound immediately after high school and that I’d use my degree in some meaningful way. My brother did too.

He and I are doing all right for ourselves after all these years, even though we ended up going in completely different directions and ended up attending schools on opposite sides of the country.

Win, lose, or draw, I will always be proud of USC because no matter what the school does, be it good or bad, that is and will always be my alma mater.

Know that I, like my fellow Trojans, will always fight on.