Musical Purgatory
A ripple of fear courses through your veins as the porcelain white mail truck makes its way up the street. The results from your top-choice music school/summer festival are due to arrive any day now, and a letter containing the information you’ve longed to know for months could very well be buried within the voluminous stacks of envelopes perched in the back of that truck, containing either greetings of joy or tidings of sorrow. Your heart rate increases as it approaches your house, and after the mailman casually places a stack of envelopes in your mailbox, you rush out the front door, wondering if the moment of truth is near. You pull open the box and grab the mail, hastily sorting through it as you hurry back inside. A moment later, an iron first clenches your heart: there, wedged tightly between the gas bill and the electric bill, is a thin, sad-looking envelope from your first choice school/festival. Your stomach sinks as you slowly re-enter your foyer and mindlessly set the other envelopes on a nearby end table. You almost don’t want to read the contents of that envelope, but your shaking fingers are already tearing at is corners, grasping at the coarse slip of paper wedged inside. You pull it out, but before your eyes have even begun to scan the letter for the dreaded phrase, “We regret to inform you,” another document slips out of the envelop, fluttering to the floor like a wayward moth; it looks like some sort of response form. A ray of hope begins to burgeon in your chest–rejections don’t come with a response form–but then again, acceptances come with a whole host of additional documents. Suddenly, realization strikes. You quickly scan the letter, and sure enough, it includes the following sentence:
We were unable to find a space for you at this time. However, you have been placed on a waiting list.
Dun-dun-duh!
Your numb fingers slowly fold up the letter, and your heart rate begins to slow. You’ve escaped rejection, but now you’re in for a difficult few weeks, filled with speculation, stress, and your future hanging in the balance. Welcome to musical purgatory.
As the end of March looms on the horizon, many high school and college students might very well be having this type of experience, subsequently enduring some understandable feelings of frustration. It’s heartening to know that you’re being seriously considered, but you have little idea of your true admissions chances, and there’s ultimately little change in your situation–you could still be accepted, you could still be rejected, and worst of all, you’re still waiting. But if this has just happened to you, don’t despair! You have more control over waitlist situations than you might think, and there are many strategies you can utilize to increase your chances of receiving a happy, thick envelope in April. Here are five things you can do to make your stay in musical purgatory as as painless as possible:
1. Call the admissions office.
Chances are, the notice you received was a form letter, so why not contact the people who can tell you the specifics of your situation? While some admissions personnel aren’t allowed to tell you any more than what you already know, many of them are able to tell you your ranking on the waitlist and give you a general idea of your chances of acceptance. Some students might prefer not to know where they stand, but you might as well face reality; if you’re ranked twentieth and the professor has only accepted two students, it’s better to know now and do your grieving instead of maintaining a false hope for the next three weeks. Conversely, if you’re ranked second, you definitely don’t want to throw in the figurative towel and commit to your second choice option tomorrow. Whatever result might be read to you by the secretary over the phone, however, it’s important that you consistently demonstrate respect and professionalism in your interactions. Don’t start squealing excitedly if they tell you that you have a high probability of admission, and don’t start bargaining if they bear tidings of woe (“Oh, but I loved your school! Can’t you bump me up, just because I called?”). Treat the situation in the same way as if you’re waiting to be seated at a restaurant. You want the host to know you’re hungry, but you also don’t want them to get annoyed and seat you after that party of ten who’ve been innocently twiddling their thumbs in the back for the past twenty-five minutes.
2. Contact the teacher.
If you’ve applied for a specific studio, don’t hesitate to get in touch with the professor, either. Often times, they will have a better idea than the admissions office of your chances of acceptance, and if you voice your genuine interest in studying with them, they might be more prone to choose you over another waitlisted candidate who hasn’t made contact. Usually, it’s best to send a carefully worded email to a professor (composed first in a document, not the email message field) so you can give them time to think about their response and feelings about teaching you–the last thing you want to do is catch them off guard at an inopportune moment (“Hi, Mr. Hotshot Teacher A, remember me? Melinda?” “Oh–um, yes, but I’m about to go on for my solo recital at Alice Tully Hall…..call you back?”).
3. Don’t keep calling, but don’t lose touch, either.
After making initial contact with the admissions office or the professor, you should consign yourself to waiting for at least a week or so–you don’t want to be that annoying person calling every day that the admissions secretary complains about over lunch–but after some time passes, it’s certainly acceptable to check in, especially if the deadline for committing to other schools/festivals is approaching. The admissions people certainly understand about deadlines–after all, they’re trying to get all of their accepted students to commit right now, too–and will do everything they can to speed up the waiting process for you. Additionally, they’ll probably have a better idea of your chances once some people have committed or declined, and that information could also be helpful to you as you’re contemplating which steps to take next.
4. Don’t be too optimistic.
Unless you’re completely okay with the prospect of taking a year off, if you’re applying for schools, or having a summer off, if you’re applying for festivals, don’t put your trust in a waitlist, no matter how how good your chances might seem. The last thing you want is to send off your decline form to your second-choice program only to get a phone call informing you that the spot you were assuming to get at your first choice option has just been filled. If you do ultimately get off the waitlist after you’ve committed somewhere else, it is still possible to back out–they’re not going to arrest you or anything–but you do have to go through a lot of red tape, lose your deposit, and probably deal with some testy administrators. If you feel that’s worth it, though, it’s certainly not off the table and could very well be a viable option.
5. Don’t obsess over your chances.
Between the numbers you get from the admissions office, the impassive tone of the professor’s email, and the Facebook updates from your friends who are also on the waitlist (“Apparently someone else just committed to IU….*sigh*….”), it’s easy to let your situation become an all-consuming affair. While you should certainly be on top of things, it’s important not to get too obsessive over your chances of success–after all, there’s only so much you can do to make a difference, and there’s no point in stressing out about things beyond your control. Remember that while being placed on a waitlist is often a negative result in academic programs, in music it is actually quite positive–with so few positions open in various programs each year, just to make it into the top-ranked group is a great accomplishment. Congratulate yourself on your success, and remember that whatever the outcome, it won’t change the fact that you prepared efficiently and represented yourself well in your audition or recording. Then, if you do get a happy phone call from Glenda in admissions one sunny afternoon in April, it will just be an added bonus.
“I have some good news…”
