By Rebekah Bailey, Staff Writer, Emerson College
Dear Rachel,
You’re a little more than a year away from college, and I am terrified.
You’re my little sister: I think I get to be a little scared of you growing up, becoming your own person, going to college, graduate school (med school, little sister? really?), having a family. Getting old. Getting hurt.
I am so terrified of what may happen to you in college.
Dad texts me and tells me about the large state universities you like, with thirty-floor dorms and lecture classes of more than a hundred. You’re not going to be special there, just like I’m not special in this city of over half a million. But even if the professors never remember your name, know that I will always, and that I will always be terrified for you.
Read More Here
Dear Rachel,
You’re a little more than a year away from college, and I am terrified.
You’re my little sister: I think I get to be a little scared of you growing up, becoming your own person, going to college, graduate school (med school, little sister? really?), having a family. Getting old. Getting hurt.
I am so terrified of what may happen to you in college.
Dad texts me and tells me about the large state universities you like, with thirty-floor dorms and lecture classes of more than a hundred. You’re not going to be special there, just like I’m not special in this city of over half a million. But even if the professors never remember your name, know that I will always, and that I will always be terrified for you.
Read More Here