Modern Love

/ Q

have you heard back from pomona college?

/ A

Denied admission. I was confused/angry for a day or so, but quickly got over it. It turns out being rejected was a good thing, as I have been offered wonderful scholarships elsewhere! I believe I will be better off at a business school rather than a LAC, so that’s another aspect. Cheers!

The only somewhat-sure path for admission into an elite college is to be one or more of the following:

1. Legacy with old-money. Lots of it.

2. Accomplished athlete who is heavily recruited.

3. “Disadvantaged” minority (African-American, Hispanic), ESPECIALLY if first-generation college goer.

4. The Hook.

So what is this hook hoopla? What exactly is a hook? A consensus definition would be “an individual’s unique, yet sought-after talent or skill which helps strength his application.” A hook is not necessarily generic extracurricular involvement - rather, a hook pertains more with the quality of the EC’s. For instance, playing ten years of piano is not a hook, but achieving national recognition is. Interning at an Environmental Center is not a hook, while organizing a successful environmental campaign is. However, being a top-ranked competitive food champion would not be a hook. While certain teenagers bring forth one-of-a-kind skills, colleges look for candidates who can bring something practical as well. Even if you are the world’s best Freestyle Friday contestant, MIT will not be knocking at your door anytime soon.

I have a slight hook. Unlike the VAST majority of Asians who are applying to the top colleges, I am rooted in liberal arts instead of STEM (Science, Technology, Engineering, Mathematics). Unique candidate? Check. Furthermore, I am a published writer and photographer as well as a recorded musician with a song on the radio. I have created what I hope to be a lasting tradition: the annual release of a schoolwide CD with music from diverse students. TLDR, I have done a lot in my last four years that goes beyond the EC “call of duty.”

However, I do not think my hook will do anything to negate circumstances in my life I have no control over. When AdComs review my profile, they see “Asian”, which instantly shrinks my chances. Pennies on the dollar, if you will. Next, they see “International”, which is not unlike Jared from Subway finally realizing the company’s sandwiches were the main weight-regain culprit. Finally, I imagine them gasping in horror when they see the box checked “I will be applying for financial aid.” #Apocalypse

At that moment, the Titanic has struck the iceberg. The dominoes fall without inhibition. The snowball picks up steam and rapidly transforms into an avalanche, accelerating towards my defenseless fortress (oxymoron?). I am not like any other Asian, but how can the AdCom see that without each member personally spending a day with me? I do not have the 2400-36-4 that is an unwritten necessity for Asian applicants to Harvard. I do not have the big bucks that international students need in order to attend college in the States. My mom is a Chinese Teacher, and my father is a part-time nursing school student, part-time phone translator.

I may be the least attractive applicant of all. Sure, I bring something new, but I also bring undesired baggage. It’s kind of like me publishing this post on Tumblr instead of Wordpress. As I finish up my thoughts, I am in tears. I have done everything I can to help the AdComs see I am different in the best ways possible. My excellent friends have always told me this is true, but they are not the ones deciding my future. All I can do is hope beyond all hope that a school can look past all my inherent flaws and offer me admission over a more “qualified” international student. Pomona, I sure do want it to be you.

Picked up an all-black AE-1P with a 50mm f/1.4 lens today. Rediscovering the joy of film photography.

My Pomona College Song

For me, songwriting is my primary means of expression. Lyric and melody make for a potent combination; music is the medium through which I voice my opinions. I love staying up at night, staring at the starry skies with my moonlit eyes, pen furiously gliding over paper, my mind brimming with inspiration. I revere the folk musicians of the 1960s, whose words of change inspired countless men and women to stand for what they believed in. The true meaning of songwriting is not reaching #1 on the Hot 100 charts, the true meaning of songwriting is to inspire- therein lies the correlation between songwriting and the First Amendment. The most recognized achievement of the First Amendment is the prohibition of any rules or regulations that would abridge free speech. If there was no First Amendment, music would not have any influence today. The winds of change brought along during the 1960s would not have happened. The lyric I write on the uptown train, the melody I hum while jogging on the bike path, I create them because I want to inspire individuals; without the First Amendment, there would be little reason for me to write, sing, record and perform. Live for a reason – with every chord I strum, melody I sing, and emotion I describe, I find that my life serves more of a purpose. With free speech and countless other musicians by my side, I believe that my aspirations to inspire are worthwhile efforts.

It has never been easier to exercise First Amendment rights than today. Our society of the new decade is heavily dependent on the frenzied media. With numerous, easily accessible online outlets for expression, anyone with an opinion can post it for the rest of the world to see, judge, and criticize. Although the ideas that catch our eye are usually radical and extremist, it does good for us to read them. One such example is the opinion of infamous Norwegian mass-murderer Anders Breivik. He tweeted, “One person with a belief is equal to the force of 100 000 who have only interests.” Breivik is clearly referring to the atrocities he committed. By freely speaking of his viewpoints, he generated a torrential storm of responses; Breivik’s actions lead to overwhelming amounts of support for the victims of the attacks. By voicing an opinion, it is almost guaranteed that a response is elicited. These responses foster the feeling of community for people of all races. Without the ability to say what we want to say, intellectual growth and the coming together of a community would not happen.

October 29-31: The Storm crippled Western Massachusetts.  Because Northampton, where WRNX has its offices, was one of the harder hit regions, I didn’t find it particularly strange that WRNX’s 100.9 FM frequency was streaming country during the week after the storm. I didn’t think much of it, and continued with my duties as a first trimester high school senior. A few days ago, with all my exams and presentations finished, I came home, brushed the dust off my sound system, and dialed in on 100.9, intent on listening to a solid hour of “quality rock.” To my great surprise, “God Gave Me You” greeted my airwaves. Don’t get me wrong - I am a fan of Blake Shelton and the rest of the country music circuit (“Barefoot Blue Jean Night” is #7 on my iTunes Top Played) - but the country side of me had Pandora, Slacker, Stitcher, Bear Country 95.3, and thousands of other radio stations to satisfy my cravings. WRNX, on the other hand, was a station no internet radio channel could replicate.

I first stumbled upon WRNX in eighth grade. Back then, Soulja Boy was the bomb diggity, and everybody my age was head over heels for pop music. I was the guy who listened to “Top 40 with Ryan Seacrest” on Sunday mornings. A serendipitous turn of the radio dial one Sunday morning led me to the “Acoustic Mornings” broadcast on 100.9 FM, which just happened to be playing an acoustic version of James Blunt’s “You’re Beautiful,” a song my friends and I loved. A simple song turned me on to a whole new world of music: WRNX introduced me to Dave, Bruce, and other rock heavyweights, but also hooked me on to Edward Sharpe, Edie Brickell, Eric Hutchinson, Ryan Adams, Ray LaMontagne, Donavon Frankenreiter, Bon Iver, Alpha Rev, and many, many others. In essence, WRNX was an innovator, always ahead of the curb; I would hear songs on 100.9 months before they gained airplay on mainstream formats. WRNX’s eclectic brand of rock defied categorization. From Jack Johnson’s inaudible melodies to harsher Cracker cuts to live Peter Gabriel ballads, WRNX had it all. Diversity was something that defined the station, but was also what brought along its downfall.

One Sunday, WRNX’s “Acoustic Mornings” disappeared, replaced by a new show, “Jazz Variations.” My Sunday sunrise companion had ditched me; I had to find another station that ease me into a smooth morning after a hard night’s work. On other days, UMass Minutemen hockey, football, and basketball were broadcast on WRNX. Other nights had in-house bands perform short sets and do interviews. While these novel programs brought along additional listeners, it surely deserted a few along the way. In turn, those newfound listeners were not drawn to the WRNX brand of rock. According to the Daily Hampshire Gazette, WRNX was the worst performing of the four Clear Channel stations around Springfield. And so, on October 30th, WRNX spun its final song. This was no false scare the night before Halloween, this was economic reality.

While WRNX did not have a big following in the quantitative sense, the select group of Western Mass residents that tuned in every day were among the most loyal and appreciative. @Carndiggity tweets, “Really missing #WRNX, was the only good radio station around #scenicspringfield.” Spfldmommy writes, “In the midst of the top 40 garbage and whiny country singers that dominate the dial, there was one station that stood out above the rest.” Rrudd echoes my strongest sentiments, “One would hear an unknown fantastic new song on ‘RNX and wait with bated-breath for sometimes a half hour to hear the coolest-voiced “DJ” tell us what that song was and who the artist was.” I remember thinking about the Jack Johnson song “Go On,” only to flip the radio on and hear it playing on WRNX. I remember listening to an exceptionally cool song with a driving bass part, quirky vocals, and an outstanding “whistle fill,” only to find it playing on mainstream radio a few months later. This was no other than Foster the People’s “Pumped Up Kicks.” And lastly, I remember dialing the car radio in on 100.9 and speeding down Route 10 with the windows down and the summer breeze flowing through my hair, heading towards my friends and our own barefoot blue jean night.

In the end, WRNX came and went in a fitting manner. No streamers or balloons were necessary to announce its exit from the airwaves. WRNX’s humble goodbye paid tribute to the incredibly grateful and thankful listener base it had accumulated over the years. WRNX never asked over the air for listener contributions; its DJ’s genuinely enjoyed spinning discs out of their third-floor roost in the Thornes building of downtown NoHo. Introducing listeners to great new artists was one half of the WRNX equation, the other half was playing lesser-known tracks from well-established musicians. This unique formula is impossible to find in the present day consumerist society. Call me old-fashioned when I say that Pandora and Slacker don’t hold a candle to WRNX, but there is, and never will be, anything like it. WRNX played a role in many of my high school memories, and I will forever be on the hunt for another station just like it. A futile effort, yes, but one I will undertake. For I would give anything to tune in to 100.9, and let its sonic waves wash over me again. Farewell, WRNX, you will be truly missed.

Summer Day