I think one of the hardest things to do in the entire world is to fit your entire life statement into 300 words. Like, excuse me. Let me just boil down every meaningful conversation, interaction, God-moment, revelation, epiphany, hardship, vent session and tear (if I cried … which I don’t except over my grades or a M&M McFlurry) into that little box that won’t, for anything, let me exceed that maximum 300 words.
Every word must count. I have 300 words to convince the Upper Powers that I am, well, perfect. If you have read any of my articles by now or have had the chance to know me on a more personal level, you know that it would take about 300 words plus a couple volumes of the Encyclopedia Britannica to accomplish this task. Because I’m far from perfect. For example, I would rather make one of my roommates open the front door of the apartment for me instead of rifling through my backpack for my key because: 1) it’s too much work, 2) I’m selfish and 3) I like to stand there pretending I’m an orphan puppy that my roommates will adopt. So yes, definitely not perfect. And that is why I hate 300 words. These 300 words, precious in every way, comprise a very large part of what has become part of our college experience here at Pepperdine (or elsewhere in life)—applications. Not the kind that are on your iPhone in the form of little squares. I mean the kind that require thought and time and effort…the kind that get you jobs and important grownup stuff like that.
It is application season, my friends. Be it the Pepperdine Volunteer Center (PVC), Housing & Residence Life (HRL), Pepperdine Ambassador’s Council (PAC) or any of the other organizations with nifty little acronyms; they all are eagerly beckoning us to apply, apply, apply before the deadline of 11:59 p.m. for the chance of a lifetime. They all promise us strong relationships with our co-members, fulfilling work and unspeakable enjoyment. The usual process involves an application and an interview. The applications themselves can be old-school paper or online. Either way, they’ll require your GPA and your undying devotion.
For me personally, it can be easy to simply sign up and apply for everything because everything interests me. I see value in so many different aspects of campus life. On the real, I want to be a part of making each organization or club or council better and more dedicated to the Pepperdine vision. By involving myself in these groups of inspiring people, I want to make myself better too. Pepperdine is unique in that aspect, friends. It brings out the best in people if you let it and, in this case, if you apply, apply, apply.
Maybe this kind of student, on-campus stuff isn’t for you. Totally fair. Go invest somewhere else. Take your many talents to the far reaches of Hollywood internships or any other number of local causes. Be passionate. Be bold. Be humble. But for the rest of us who are attempting to make our mark through the opportunities on campus, I would ask that we consider three things before signing up and applying for everything. They all have value, in their own way, and they all could equally demand your full time and attention. So, while I have your attention, I entreat you to:
1) Apply for things you are truly passionate about. It sounds cliché, I know, but our time at Pepperdine is far too short to be wasting any time on something you half-heartedly kind of have a sort of interest in. Leave those things to people who may be more passionate than you. Instead of being involved in fifty different things that you are mildly moved by, throw yourself with abandon into one or two or three. Make those one or two or three excellent. Strive for the best. You won’t feel spread thin and you will be able to do your best work.
2) Don’t think that 24 hours is enough time. Because it is not. No one can live for very long without sleep and, even if they can somehow superhumanly survive, they won’t be able to perform the excellent work I talked about above. So yeah, budget your time like Jack Bauer does so that all bullets are dodged, all feats are accomplished and everyone is saved in the end. And by “everyone” I mean “your sanity.”
3) Be humble and realistic. Before you hit me with a college-version of Disney’s “Wish Upon a Star,” please understand that I absolutely believe in reaching high, working hard and dreaming big. The only way we get better in anything is trying beyond our self-imposed limits. I think, though, that even if we may say “oh I don’t think I’ll get it” or express doubt of some kind in regards to things we apply for, we say it to temper our own expectations. We believe that we are the most qualified for the position. Why else would we have applied? It would be a waste of time if we didn’t feel some kind of stirring feeling when we press the submit button, when we sign on the dotted line and when we hand over the application at 11:59 p.m. Go for the application of your dreams, by all means, and make yourself sound great on your application. That’s allowed. And expected. But don’t try to wow your readers with all of your amazingness. You’re sexy and you know it. And The Upper Powers will know it too.
Follow these simple guidelines and I promise that, even if you don’t get the position or club membership or whatever else you were applying for, that you will at least become better acquainted with 300 words. It takes practice to learn how to fit the complexity that is a human being into that small of a space. You got it, beautiful friends, dear readers and fellow applicants. Let’s go conquer that dreadful number.
Ayo waves.
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Follow Taylor Nam on Twitter: @nam_nam330
