Flashback Friday is a weekly series on “Hopes and Dreams.”
When I was a senior in high school I decided to go for my dreams and audition for the Music Dance Theater program at Brigham Young University, one of the top programs of it’s kind in the country. I hadn’t really auditioned for anything big before, other than high school musicals, and my nerves were off the charts, especially because I kept hearing that freshmen never make it their first time around. However, I felt great about the audition, and got extremely positive feedback from the directors of the program. I totally thought I was in.
But I did not make it. My dreams were not crushed, though, because the director sent me an email saying I was the third alternate and if anyone were to not accept their admittance into the program, I could still make it. He also encouraged me try out again the next year if it didn’t work out then, and said he really appreciated my talent. So I felt great about that, even though I knew it was safe to say that year was not to be my year. I was just honored to be considered and to be so close as such a young audition-ee. Plus, I knew my shots for the following year were pretty rock solid.
A year came and went, and auditions rolled around again. I felt great about them and was positively certain I would be admitted into the program, especially because of what happened the year before.
A few weeks passed after the audition, and I hadn’t heard anything.
A few more weeks passed, and still–nothing. Meanwhile my friends who auditioned with me were hearing back. I was getting nervous….. so I thought to myself, “I guess no news is good news, right?” But only for so long–like when you feel like they forgot about you, that’s too long and it is no longer ‘good news,’ no matter how much you try to talk yourself into believing it is.
Enough time passed with no word that I was fairly certain I didn’t make it, I just needed closure! So I called the MDT department at BYU and explained that I had not yet heard back from them regarding my audition for the program. The receptionist apologized that I hadn’t gotten a letter yet and asked for my email address so they could email me their decision.
Uuuuhhh…okaaaayy…. You’re not even going to bother to send me a good ol’ fashioned letter in the mail? I thought to myself. Nope! It had been long enough since the auditions that they just needed to send me an obligatory email for their convenience, because all the folks who made the program had already been notified and I was just the riffraff they needed to get off their backs. That little exchange with the receptionist proved to be closure enough, and she didn’t even have to explain that I hadn’t made the program for me to know that I didn’t.
But I thought I’d check the email anyway. Later that night I brought myself to open my email. I gave myself a nice little pep talk, encouraging myself to not take it personally that I didn’t make it. After all, if they didn’t want me then I didn’t want them! Even though I really did want them….
Eventually I opened my inbox, and cautiously gazed down the far left column to see if there was anything from BYU. And there was. So, with a pit in my stomach, I went to open the email to discover the destiny that I already knew was mine. . . . until I noticed that I didn’t actually have to open the email because the subject of the email was blazing in bolded caps, there, right in the middle of my inbox: