Random Anecdotes of an Abused TJ Applicant

      In the summer of the year we know of as 2000, my parents approached
me one day and talked to me about a faraway high school that all those
"smart kids" go to - that prestigious high school we all know today as
Thomas Jefferson High School for Science and Technology. My parents were
the kind of people that planned for the future way in advance, had an
overprotective personality, and were very, very picky. They basically
drilled me, saying that grades would start to count now (I would be
entering 7th grade that year), and that I should start to focus on my work
in school. I took it lightly, thinking that everything would straighten out
by itself and I had nothing to worry about.

      So 7th grade started at Rocky Run Middle School, and I had to start
getting used to classes with different teachers and timed periods, a lack
of recess, and strict rules. It was definitely an interesting experience,
as eight years of conformity can put you into one particular mindset. I met
great teachers, boring teachers, and bad teachers., The school year in
general and it was definitely a great time for me. I caught on to many
people, namely mainly because my name just had to rhyme. I would be picked
on daily, and it annoyed me for a while. It was somewhat of a catch-on to
everyone, even teachers. For example, when a teacher took role, he or she
would almost always call my full name off. I mean, I was both content yet
annoyed of the way my name was used. One day, I just said to myself, "Get
used to it. It won't go away unless you get a name change." That was the
day I started to learn to be resilient to the everyday phrases I heard in
school such as, "It's Dan Tran the (insert something here) Man!" Some
people had the strangest creativity when using the catch-all phrase.
Extraneous random phrases stemming from the phrase included the "Nerd Man",
the "Pumpkin Man", and even the "Irish Man".

      Throughout the school year, teachers and students alike would ask me
if I was going to apply for admission into Jefferson. I don't clearly
remember my answers, but paraphrasing my thoughts at the time, I would have
said, "I don't have to worry about that yet, when it's time, I'll think
about it." I really didn't care, but I started to think to myself how great
it would be if I were to be accepted - to be in a school that had so much
freedom, and how the level of integrity and trust was outstanding to the
extent that everyone respected everyone else. So that year of intense
learning and education was that, and I got my first high school credit in
Algebra I that year with an A.

      Another summer came to pass, and surprisingly my parents forgot about
TJ, or didn't mention it at all. During this time, I was relaxing for the
next year of school. When school shopping time came around, I went to my
usual place for good deals and interesting finds: the Office Depot
clearance section. I stumbled across some very cheap pocket protectors that
day, and I came up with an interesting idea. I thought it would be
interesting if from that point on, I would wear a pocket protector to
school everyday. I wouldn't really care what people called me - I thought
of and still think of myself today as a nerd. I had always worn pens and
pencils in my shirt pocket, so it wasn't much of a change except for the
fact that I was wearing a pocket protector; it would be an interesting
complement and a good experiment. (On a side note, everyone and their
brother asked me during the year why I had so many pens in my pocket, and I
gave them the simple answer: "Why not?") I was surprised, and am still
today, that most people that I have met have not a clue of what a pocket
protector is, yet connect it with the stereotype of a nerd. So it came to
be tradition that everyday, I would slip my pocket protector into my shirt
pocket in the mornings and go to school. I said to myself the day before
school started, "It won't catch on at all. No one even knows what it is."
That was a completely wrong assumption.

      Wearing that plastic thing definitely changed my whole life, even to
today. I started 8th grade confident, and for the first week, everything
seemed to be normal. Basically, it was more name rhyming jokes and stuff,
but as I said, I had accustomed to those before. Then, one simple question
and answer sparked the revolution: one person casually asked me why I was
wearing a pocket protector. I mumbled, "Because I'm a nerd." From there,
the phenomenon occurred: as the saying goes, "News spreads like wildfire."
That same day, three of my "enemies" (they weren't really enemies, but just
those incessant name rhyming people) came up to me and asked what that
thing was in my pocket. Without me saying anything, they answered their own
question in a mocking, and actually pretty funny voice: "That's a pocket
protector, isn't it!" The whole school caught on. I was known as the
"popular loser" or the elusive title of "Dan Tran the Pocket Protector
Man."  I didn't mind the titles at all - my name was literally replaced
with "Pocket protector guy" or "Dude with the pocket protector." Even
though the teachers knew about it, they never said a word. It was fun to
see their reaction when someone else called me that - one of a stifled
chuckling or a suppressed laughter. That year was definitely one of the
most interesting years I've had.

      Back on the topic of admissionsAfter the pocket protector had worn out
its appeal, things became humdrum again. The few months after the first
were not too newsworthy. Then one day, our counselor came to our Geometry
class one day in October and gave us an information sheet for interested
people wanting to apply to Jefferson. Since most of the Geometry class was
part of the GT program, about 90% of the class was already interested -
most had been waiting for developments in the process for TJ. On the sheet
was some deadline information for turning in the application, the test, and
the data sheets. After class that day, random students would walk up to me
in the halls and ask me, "Hey, guy with the pocket protector, are you
applying for TJ?" I answered them with a slight nod and said that I would
give it a try. Everyone rallied behind me, encouraging me with phrases such
as, "If pocket protector kid doesn't get accepted, no one's getting in!"
and "Good luck!"

      I was starting to get rushed, with this sudden pile of deadlines and
application forms and whatnot. That day, I went home to my parents and
showed them the sheet. They started to get worried really quickly about
deadlines and recommendations, as many Asian parents do. It was more talks
and more life planning. The next day, I basically ran around the school to
get signatures from teachers and verifications of grades. It was a hectic
day, and I finally turned in the form and the admissions fee to the
counselor.

      The next step in the admissions process was the TJHSST admissions test
administered on December 1, 2001. The time between the application being
turned in and the test was mainly used for review and studying. Time was
either used for homework for school, or studying for TJ. It wasn't bad,
just a review of math concepts and miscellaneous stuff. There were after
school sessions for preparation of the essay portion of the test. I took it
to myself to sign up for it, and most applicants did. The sessions were of
great help, as I learned how to elaborate, brainstorm, lengthen my short
writings, and shorten my long writings. The teachers were giving us less
homework thatn we were supposed to have, to ease the pressure on us.
Everything went well and it came to be the last day before we were to have
the test. Everyone wished everyone else good luck, and we all went home to
get some sleep for the next day. I will never forget what my father said
that night to me (jokingly but with a stern voice), "It's either TJ or
McDonald's."

      It was a cold December morning, and if I remember correctly, it was a
dark day. I woke up earlier than usual, and started to worry. I thought to
myself, "What if this is a hard test? What if I get writer's block during
the essay? What if I write something really stupid? What if." The flurry of
questions worried me during that morning and I was beginning to get
stressed out. I came about 30 minutes early to school, to find that there
was a long line to get in. Of all the people I saw, I recognized half of
them (the other half came from other middle schools around the area.) So I
talked to some of my friends for a while, and then the doors opened for
everyone to come in. I looked at the chart that split up the students to
different rooms by last name. I found out I would be taking the test in the
last place I would ever want to be in: my English teacher's room (she
wasn't proctoring it however.) I looked again at the chart, and saw that my
7th grade Algebra teacher would be proctoring the test too, but in another
room. She was a great motivator, and was the kind of person that would
always make you happy. I went and visited her and she told me that I had
nothing to worry about, that everything would work out and I "would
definitely get in." She made me feel much better that day, and it felt as
if a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. It's great that some people
have the ability to do that - I think she may have changed the outcome of
that fateful day. So I returned to my assigned room and waited for the time
when the doors would close and the test would begin.

      The math part of the test wasn't too hard, just elementary principles
and other easy concepts. The verbal part was harder, with reading
comprehension (I completely hate reading comprehension - I can never make
sense of a story), analogies, and other types of problems you would find on
a verbal standardized test. Then it was time for the essay, the dreaded
writing portion. If I recall correctly, the two questions were to the
effect of: "If you could uninvent any invention, which one would you choose
and why?" and "Describe qualities you find in a friend." I wrote fervently,
stopping to think if any of the sentences made sense before continuing. I
took most of the time, trying my hardest to get my writing ability to work
overtime, trying to get it out of its hiding spot (as I am doing right
now). The test time was over, and I was finally calm and collected,
confident I did well on the test. I went home in the car, and my mom asked
me how the test was and what the essay questions were. I answered her, and
she asked what my answer was for the "uninvention." I thought back and
said, "I said the thing I wanted to uninvent was the car." The whole
interior of the car went silent and I figured out what I did wrong. I said
to myself, "Oh my goodness, I just wrote three paragraphs on why the car
was a bad invention!" I was so set on one goal, to get across that auto
accidents were bad and were one of the leading causes of deaths in the US.
I wasn't thinking right - I mentioned a contradiction in my essay: "Mass
transit would be better for the society of the US."

      I basically hated and bullied myself for the rest of that month
(although at that time, I didn't know that someone who got accepted to TJ
wrote "mashed potatoes" for their "uninvention"). I tried not to tell any
of my friends, but the subject would come up again and again: "What did you
want to "uninvent"?" I worried everyday of how the reviewers would laugh
and not accept my application. A few weeks passed and school was back to
normal. Then came the day of the fated letter in the mail - I got home and
opened it as quickly as I could and saw the words, "You have been selected
into the pool of 800!" I was stunned, yet happy of the fact that my silly
answer wasn't interpreted as some uneducated stupid answer! Of course, at
this time, I didn't remember that essays were considered on the second cut
process.

      The next step after that was to submit two things. One was a "data
sheet" listing your activities, academic skills, awards, and other great
things about yourself. This stopped me in my tracks - I never did any
extracurricular activities! No music, no sports, not a single activity! I
thought hard for the next few days: what could I put on this sheet?
Finally, the sheet consisted of a few awards, two competitions I had done,
my skills in technology, and the fact I was a GT student. I probably
overdid it, because what I put down made it sound very dignified, clunky,
and obviously made up: "Member of the Gifted and Talented Program for
Higher Studies." I was desperate, and this was my last only chance to pass
through the admission gates.

      The other required item was three teacher recommendations: one from
your current math teacher, one from your current science teacher, and one
from a teacher of your choice. This was the easiest part of the whole
admissions process to do: I just went to my teachers and pleaded that they
write a recommendation for me. Of course, they accepted, but on one
condition - that we would have to waive the right to see their
recommendations. I didn't care, and I waived it. I was sure that my
teachers wouldn't have written bad things behind my back.

      Weeks feel like years when it comes to important decisions made about
your life - in the hands of a few people and the mailman. On the day of
April 1, 2002, I started to get nervous - I knew that it was the day when
the letters were being mailed out. The decision could make or break the
rest of my life. The day felt long, and I had to get my mind off the
subject of admissions. I did something I didn't do in a while - watch TV.
Flipping through the channels, I remember seeing a press conference on TV
with the governor of Minnesota, Mr. Jesse Ventura. He came up and started
talking about how he would run for reelection. Then at the end of his
speech, he says something to the point of, "And remember, you can't believe
what people say on April Fool's Day." He leaves, leaving a chuckle on
everyone's face for the day. This would be an important part of what was to
come the next day.

      On the day of April 2, 2002, I went home from school and checked the
mail. Frantically checking the mail, I angrily tossed away the junk mail,
looking for my letter. There was nothing of importance in the pile. I got
home to the living room and sat down on the computer. My parents were doing
something with the scanner, and I really didn't notice pay attention to
what they were doing. A few minutes later, at least four people called me
on the telephone and asked me if I got my letter. I said, "No, it wasn't
delivered to me." Then they go off and say that I would have been sure to
get accepted because they got accepted - with the letter they just got in
the mail! I was fuming mad that day: why did everyone get their letters and
not me? Were rejection letters sent after the acceptance letters? It
stressed me out really badly. I was desperate again - I asked if I could go
to the post office and see if I could get the mail. My parents told me in a
cunning manner that the post office was closed at that time. A few minutes
after I started to panic, my parents come from a dark corner of the living
room with a somber look on their face. They give me an already opened
letter and say to me, "Sorry." I look at them and open the letter. I
noticed the sticker on the letter that was supposed to have our name on it
was looking a bit weird. I read the letter, and it gave me the worst shock
of my life. The first paragraph explained how the applicants were selected
and that it was very lucky for the 800 to have been selected. Then the
second paragraph said that I was not accepted into TJ and that the decision
was very hard. Finally, the letter said to work a few pounds off and try
again next year: "And remember what Governor Elect Jesse Ventura said
yesterday!" and ended with Mrs. Payne's signature. Well, needless to say, I
attacked my parents telling them to give me the real letter: the paper was
obviously edited, with the random black ink splotches of doom - a failed
forgery from the scanner. After searching the cabinets, drawers, and almost
everywhere else for the letter, they finally confessed and told me that I
was accepted. That year, 41 students from Rocky Run Middle School of
Chantilly, VA were accepted into Thomas Jefferson High School for Science
and Technology.