Letters of Recommendation

In order to be admitted to the criminal justice program at my University, I needed to include three letters of recommendation. For some reason, two of the letters were shared with me when sent to the department. Most professors do not share their letters, but these did and it was a blessing to read their words.

I know that I have a couple degrees, but I never felt worthy of them. I never believed myself smart enough - always comparing myself to the smartest people in the room and falling short. I always felt like an impostor. The "fake" me was earning these rewards, the "real" me did not deserve any of them. Even when I walked across the stage to gain my diploma from law school, already hired at a firm, it didn't feel like I'd earned that right.

My mind was sick. I didn't believe in myself. I saw all accolades as lies. Everything good that happened to/for me was by chance. I hated myself and knew deep down that everyone hated me too. The emotional illness feeding my addiction was all-consuming.

When I applied the last round to my doctoral programs, I cast a wide net. I did not know how programs would rate my past experience, as I was not always working directly in the education sphere. I was surprised to be accepted to my top choice and several other top schools. On paper, I look good.

So, what happens when you go from what's on paper to who I am in person? In my younger years, I was able to sell myself, but I did not believe a word I said. Even though on paper it was the truth, I felt disconnected from it. Undeserving. Although I'd been in recovery several years before my last round of applications, some of that still lasted... Was I deserving this opportunity in this program?

It was not until I finished my first year in the doctoral program, that I fully realized I was capable and that I did not have to be the smartest person in the room to succeed. We all have our own gifts and we each bring something different to the classroom, to our research, and to discourse. If we all interpreted everything the same, then no change would ever occur. No scholarship would need to be published. By the time I was in my second year, I felt secure, intelligent enough, and capable. I'd earned my right to be a doctoral student.

Now, here I am (re)applying to graduate programs. I have no fears of my worthiness. I earned enough high marks in my doctoral program to equal any top applicant. It's not intelligence that makes the difference between who succeeds and who fails, it is motivation, passion, and of course hard work. Looking back at my lifetime of success, now, I'm able to see those same qualities throughout. My success was not as an impostor, it was from hard, motivated work. 

When reading the letters of recommendation this week, I can officially accept that they are writing about the "real" me. I'm a whole person, with successes and failures, but even with my worst failures that led to unimaginable consequences, my successes still win out. I learn from my failures and try to do the right thing. No person is perfect, even if I held myself to that unattainable goal for most my life.

I will share with you one line from one of the letters. It said that I was probably "the top undergraduate that [she] had in [her] 30+ years of teaching." I have no idea if it is true, but it does not matter, because she believes it to be true and my being her student led to us both growing as people. I did not do my undergrad at some top university that earns accolades. It was a state school, and not the flagship state school. I never knew if I would have been accepted to a top school, I never applied. I left high school early, needing to leave my home life, and went to the furthest college I could and still be an in-state student. I do not regret that decision, as it allowed me the opportunity to learn from and work with the professor who wrote that line in one of my recommendation letters. Everything happens as it should.

I will sit down this weekend and write thank you letters to my three recommenders. Whether or not I am admitted, I know they put thought and effort into their pieces of the admission puzzle. I know I've earned their praise, even if it is sometimes hard to accept. I am smart and capable and I will add something unique to any program and classroom. I now know and accept that fact.