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Teen Ink Magazine,
April 2004 :
CollegeArticles Articles
14 Going on 40
by Azalea E., Chula Vista, CA
Today my ninth-grade geography teacher handed me my college acceptance and rejection letters. It came in the form of a test.
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Community College
by Christina L., Congers, NY
Here I am, a senior. After four years of high school I have learned a lot of lessons. Some were good and valuable, the type I got when I actually went to class. I have also learned others just from growing up and being around other teenagers.
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Face the Day
by Breanna S., Austin, TX
It is frightening to stand before your future armed with only your limited experience and an untested sense of morality. As a senior, I felt this fear well inside me the first day of school this year.
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Questions
by Laura P., Hemet, CA
I am repeatedly asked, "Where are you going to college?" I usually answer meekly, "Idon't know yet." As a sophomore, I don't spend much time thinking about what colleges I want to applyto.
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Some Things Never Change
by Chelsey T., Rochester, MN
Ah, college life. Hail to the wonders of freedom, parties and, of course, lots and lots of members of the opposite sex. Sounds like one big "Animal House," doesn't it? I thought so too until I had a rude awakening.
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The Road to College
by Emerald K., Soledad, CA
For many, high school is a four-year sentence; college-bound kids at my school, including me, refer to each other as cellmates. College, on the other hand, is a blessed probation, the sole purpose for all our activities in high school.
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The Voices Within
by Ruqqiya G., Oxford, CT
It's a rejection letter, a voice in my head snickered as I held the envelope. I stared at the maroon insignia in its corner, the symbol of the only college I longed to attend: the University of Tampa.
It's thick, though.
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The World of (Art) Students
by Amanda P., Stewartville, MN
"Weird mohawk. And why are those guys wearing dresses?" These may sound like people that most would try to avoid, but at the Minneapolis College of Art and Design these are students you run into every day. After a while, they start to seem normal.
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What Comes Next?
by Christopher M., Toronto, ON
It's eight a. m. and the sky is a deep blue without a cloud in sight. Your legs, buried knee deep in white powder, are attached to a large plank of fiber glass and wood. Strapped to your snowboard, you adjust your goggles.
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