I just got back from the interview for my congressional nomination.
Overall I feel like it didn't go too well.
The beginning of the interview seemed simple enough. Three men. All older. One dark haired man with facial hair who looked like a fire chief, one dark skinned, black haired man who looked like a politician, and one with grey hair and a narrow face whose occupation I couldn't guess.
"We're here to evaluate you."
From the get-go, I could tell I was pretty nervous. A little intimidated, too. I mean here I was, sitting to be judged by three keen individuals who were looking to see if I met the high standard. By the eager start-offs of my sentences and my tightness of facial expressions, I could already see myself through their eyes. An intimidated and eager young man hoping to prove himself in whatever words from the English language he can utter. Unfortunately.
The first question, from the man with a narrow face, whose occupation I couldn't guess, was straight forward:
"I'm looking at your transcripts here and it doesn't seem to make sense to me that you have C's in math. It doesn't exactly reflect your other records and what kind of person you seem to be; can you explain that?"
I said something like:
"In high school I believe I struggled quite a bit with math primarily because of my different learning approach. I couldn't simply memorize equations and apply them--I had to write them out and understand them bit by bit before being able to use them. For that reason, I think I was behind my peers."
His shrewd facial expressions and thoughtful gaze reflected his weighing of my every word. He didn't nod as I was talking, or show any visual exchanges of acknowledgment. By the time I had finished defending my case he nodded and revealed that he could sympathize--he related that he had a sister who could simply memorize equations , but he himself had to write it out and think about it to use it.
Okay, so I found some common ground with him. That's good. I thought.
Then, a question from the supposed fire chief:
"I don't understand this last sentence of your nomination essay. 'The Naval Academy is only the beginning.' I don't see any other part in your essay in which you describe what your plan is to do afterward."
I said something like:
"I see the Naval Academy as a springboard, a launchpad, that will take me places. I feel that it's not an end. It will help me whether I choose to pursue a full on career in the military or future business or, another passion of mine: directing films."
The darker skinned man spoke:
"Now wait, a second I have a question for you, is it okay if I ask a follow up?"
The fire chief replied:
"Sure, I think I know where this is going."
The dark haired man continued:
"So, you seem, as reflected by your essay and what you've said, very interested in film and the arts. Which one would you choose if you had the choice? Film? Or the Military?"
Shit.
"Well..." I began.
FILM HANDS DOWN!! ---Shhh--shut up!! I can't--
I was staring hard at the table. Maybe the table might whisper me the right answer. Maybe if I stared hard enough at the wood, letters might form like a script so I could get the hell out of this one.
"I...I feel as though I would grow much as a person in film, but the military is very similar in that respect. But the discipline in the military is what makes it more attractive."
Liar. Am I lying? No, no--I like the discipline of the military. That's true. Isn't it? Shit.
The panel began to scribble some words down on their evaluation sheets. I could only sit in alert readiness for the next question to be dealt.
They proceeded to ask me questions such as:
"What's your plan B?"
"Have you considered other routes in the naval academy? An ROTC scholarship?"
And a whole bunch of other questions to calculate how dedicated and determined I was in becoming a part of the academy.
Then, the fire chief throws me another flame.
"I'm looking at your college transcripts and your high school activities, and I see a lot that's involved in theater and film and a lot of the arts. I don't see a lot of leadership roles. Do you think acting and drama will help you in the military? You need to explain to me otherwise because I'm not convinced."
Fuck. There's no time to think Kid Will--just start talking---
"Well I wasn't solely involved in film and theater. I also did Track and NJROTC. I taught military drill and taught cadets how to properly shoot air rifles...and.."
Dammit. Am I suppose to thoroughly think before answering? I--just keep talking---
"I have a philosophy that whatever I learn will always help me in other fields."
True, true. Just give em' the truth.
"There were times when I felt stressed but I knew I shouldn't show it in NJROTC in front of the cadets. Being involved in theater helped me a bit because I was used to being in front of audiences and so....well I could ACT cool, I guess you could say, in those stressful situations."
That was a stupid answer.
"I see. Very well." The fire chief responded, nodding and holding his hair-covered chin with index and thumb.
The dark haired man spoke up again:
"I'm looking at your transcripts in college and I do not see a single math or science course, am I correct."
"You are correct sir."
"It appears that you are unprepared for the rigorous academics of the Naval Academy. Do you think otherwise?"
His tone sounded very assured. It seemed almost as if he would cling to his conviction regardless of what words I uttered from the English language.
"I'm already enrolled in a math course, Precalculus for next quarter, and from there I'm going to take chemistry and a first-year calculus course."
Huge maybe on that first-year calculus course though.
"Also, my initial plan was to satisfy the GE requirements of the University in attempts to transfer to UCLA for their film program. I never thought about applying to the Naval Academy when I was in high school and the consideration of the military as a career is quite recent."
They started to nod their heads.
They understood me now.
I wasn't preparing for this application from the start. However, my honesty was paying off in the sense that I was finally being understood and less scrutinized. Perhaps that's why they seemed so probing. They didn't understand what angle I was approaching the Naval Academy from. They didn't grasp what my focus was. In truth, my end focus has always been film. The Naval Academy is just suppose to strengthen me as an individual and provide useful experience to use in my anticipated film career. But why was I trying to hide that? Well DUH, the nominator doesn't want that. They want to know that I'm 100% for the Naval Academy. This interview was not a joke. It's serious. We're talking about one of the most competitive schools in the country. And yet, here I was, walking in here with less than 100% determination and preparedness. There I sat thinking that perhaps the interview would be a piece of cake. But no.-- I'm taking this too seriously now. The Naval Academy stands for something--a nice option if anything. I'm not fully determined to become an officer--it's just an option. If I was fully determined to be a midshipmen, I would have dropped all of my humanity classes and bought a big ass textbook on chemistry and physics. No, don't lose sight of the end goal. Don't feel degraded just because you're not completely math oriented. Don't feel stupid just because this option is slowly dissolving.
But yet, I did feel stupid.
And I did feel degraded.
And I did lose sight of what was important to me.
I should have read more books before hand to keep me articulate.
I should have thought about my position from their point of view to prepare for the best half-truths tI could get away with.
I should have used my lower register of my voice to talk to them because I would have seemed and felt calmer than I was acting.
I should have took the time to think about the question being asked before blurting out answers and praying to the captain we would somehow sail in the right direction.
But I walked out of that building feeling different.
Maybe not exactly happy with myself. But I felt different.
I learned a thing or two today.
And that's good, I think.
