How I Got Into College

A few friends and family know the story, but I don’t think I have ever shared it with all of you, the story of how I got into college. I always say, “A few years ago…” when I got into college, cause it feels like only yesterday, but as I celebrate my birthday today I am hit with the realization that it has been two decades. TWO decades and with all the back-to-school posts this week and my friends on FB sharing pictures of dropping their firstborns at college, I decided I wanted to share how I got into college.

How I Got Into College

When I was 15 years-old I was ready to move out. lol. I think many teens feel they are adults. I convinced my parents to let me study abroad in South America for 6 months. Well, after 6 months I didn’t come home and stayed another 6 months. THAT IS A WHOLE DIFFERENT STORY I WILL SHARE ANOTHER TIME.

I finally returned home at 17 years old and had to start thinking about college. I already lived away from home for a year so why would I go to college close to home. That was my thought process. Typical teenager. I began my college search somewhere far enough you couldn’t drive there but had to fly. Boston or Pennsylvania here I come.

When I lived in South America, a lot happened. Some stuff not so great. One positive aspect was seeing how deprived many kids were when it came to education. I was in a poor town for a year and not in a great school. I vowed that when I returned to the U.S. I would appreciate the high school education I had. As a result, I studied my ass off and it paid off. I got into every college I applied to out east. It wasn’t just my good grades but the essay of my life abroad for one year that I think did it.

BUT That is NOT the story of How I Got Into College

I got into my top choice and that was that. High school graduation came and on my cake, it said, “Penn Here I Come!”

It was official. I was headed to college in less than 8 weeks far from home, again.

We had a huge graduation party and I truly partied all night. We all headed to the beach to see the sunrise and I remember looking out a the horizon when my heart started racing. I started sweating. What was happening?

I now know, it was my first panic attack.

On my way home, still in my graduation gown, I stopped by a local church, it must have been 7 am. I walked in, sat in the emptiness of the large congregation and cried.

What was I doing? I don’t want to go far away to college. I just got back home a year ago. I wasn’t ready to leave again.

I got home and told my mom immediately. She looked stunned but said, “okay, you ARE GOING to college, so where will you go?” I replied, “I will go to the University of Illinois in Champaign-Urbana. It’s only a 2-hour drive and is a great university, part of the Big Ten. I remember her asking me if I had applied there.

“No. But I will get in before August.”

Still, in my graduation gown and happy it was Monday morning. I called 411, remember those days?

“Can I have the phone number for the admission office at Uof I?” At 9:00 a.m. on the dot I dialed the number that changed my life.

“Hi, I didn’t apply, I am accepted elsewhere, I can’t go there anymore. Are you still taking admissions? Liberal Arts, business, engineering, anything?”

Silence, I think she was processing what I had just asked her. “Every department is closed, full. Let me check again…Okay, so the only department that is still open and is accepting a few more students is the College of Dance.”

“I can dance.”

Silence. I think again she was processing what I had just told her. “well, to get into the college of dance you have to audition and auditions are in two weeks, here on campus. BUT before you can audition you have to complete our full college application and we are no longer accepting applications after this upcoming Friday.”

“Okay, I am on my way.”

I told my mom and without questioning me we changed, got in the car and drove 2.5 hours. I remember like it was yesterday walking up the steps of the admissions office thinking, ‘I can do this.’

The secretary looked up and I said, “Hi, my name is Keki Composto and I would like to apply to the College of Dance.” I think about this secretary often, she remembered our phone conversation from earlier. I am pretty sure she thought I was crazy but because she took the time to check if any department had openings I knew there was still hope, even if I had to dance my way into the school.

She gathered all the information and handed me my packet.

We drove straight home the same day, cause I had to now go back to high school and get all my paperwork in order, my test scores, my teacher recommendation letters. All of it. Remember, this is back when everything was pen to paper. I had to get it all done in 2-3 days because I needed to FEDEX it all by Thursday. My mom was not driving back to drop it off.

My teachers were great and I got everything I needed and delivered on time.

The following week I got the call,

“U of I would love to have you, but you can only get in through the College of Dance, which is the only department that is open. If you truly are a dancer and get in, then Welcome.”

“Yes, I CAN DANCE!”

“The audition is in 2 weeks, Ballet, Jazz, and Modern. After each dance audition in large groups, you will have to perform a 2-minute dance solo in the genre of your choice.”

Oh shit.

I replied, “Great, see you in 2 weeks.”

Granted, I loved to dance, like with my friends at parties, but by no means was I a trained dancer. I called my High School dance department and they allowed me to do meet with the dance teacher. I told her what I was doing, she thought I was crazy but she spent two mornings with me showing me some modern dance moves/ routine and then allowed me to use the dance studio every day for the next two weeks.

YUP, I created a modern dance routine. Trust me, I prayed that my ballet classes growing up and the few modern dance classes I took in high school, plus my love for salsa would pay off.

Oh gosh, the two weeks were up. My mom and I drove back to Uof I the night before the audition. We were at the local hotel the night before and I must have seemed nervous or lost cause I just remember my mom basically telling me, “You created this, you are here because of you…”

I couldn’t tell if I was being reprimanded or applauded but I knew she was right. Either way, I created this situation, it was me and I realized at that moment, I don’t get what I want because I am lucky, but because I work damn hard, I am not a quitter, I am a fighter.

The alarm went off at 6:00 a.m. I got my “dance bag” ready and in my modern dance outfit and off we were.

The next 6 hours of dance were painful for my mom to watch. I walked in and realized these were all professional young dancers. But I walked the walk and talked the talk.

But, I couldn’t dance the dance. Granted it began with ballet and I thought, I could do this. I wasn’t the best in the room but I held my ground.

Then we moved into tap/jazz. Oops, not my forte

Then modern. I held my ground again. I was feeling hopeful. Maybe I got this.

Then, it was time for our solo audition. My name was called. We had to audition in front of the teachers, other students, and all the parents. The music started. I started, then 30 seconds in, I froze, I forgot everything. My mind literally went blank. So I ended repeated the same 3-4 moves for the next 2 minutes. The longest two minutes of my life.

My song/routine ended. I sat down. I knew that was it. I saw it on everyone’s face.

When I left the dance building I saw it on my mom’s face too. She said, “You messed up. You forgot the routine. But, you did good. You did your best. You tried.”

That is my mom. Always honest, but always supportive and proud.

That was the longest ride home cause I knew I had to go to college far away. In less than 5 weeks I was going to have to deal with my choice and this growing anxiety. (back then there was no, “take a year off, – gap year thing” and definitely not in my family. YOU HAD to go to college. )

I decided that the dance department needed to see what my dance routine was supposed to be. Maybe if they saw it I had a chance. So we borrowed a VHS Recorder, moved all the furniture to one side of the family room and I recorded my dance routine. I added a little note reminding them that I messed up my routine but here it is for their consideration.

Yeah, maybe if they just saw it on the video I would be accepted. Maybe.

The days went by.

Then one day I was coming home from hanging out with my high school sweetheart and I saw the mail. There was a large white envelope from the University of Illinois.

What???

My mom was in the kitchen waiting for me to get home to open it.

I freaked out that I might have actually gotten into the school of dance.

OH SHIT!! I CAN’T dance, how am I going to dance for the rest of my life.

Breath. Just open it.

I opened the letter and began reading. My mom waiting for me to say something. I screamed. I jumped up and down. Screamed some more.

My mom started yelling at me, “What, what does it say?”

“Unfortunately, you have NOT been accepted into the dance department BUT, the University of Illinois – Urbana Champaign would love to have a determined student like you join our Liberal Arts Department in August BLAH BLAH BLAH SCHOLARSHIP, BLAH BLAH….we need to know of your commitment to our University as soon as possible.”

AHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!! YES YES YES!!

How I got into college? I like to joke around that I danced my way in and in a way I did. Not literally, but dancing is a sequence of movements with a purpose. I created a sequence of events, with a purpose, determined to make it to the end. To complete what I started. I knew then, at 18 years old, life isn’t about luck or being at the right place at the right time, it is about me and my strong will and hard work. I control it, my life, in my own hands.