The moment I start my senior year of high school, I am working on my Coast Guard Academy application. The application process is extensive, requiring recommendations from teachers, coaches, and mentors, all standardized test scores and transcripts, and essays. One of the required essays asks, “Why are you interested in attending the Academy and pursuing a career in the Coast Guard?”

This was my response:

It was a beautiful summer night during my week of AIM. I was standing rigidly at attention in front of a large window peering outside. I could see the moons reflection softly glowing on Connecticut's Thames River, "the rock" or sailing center with its ships perfectly lined up, and the trees blowing gently in the wind. But there was something else in that window I could see; the one thing that has changed me the most. I could see my reflection. I was standing proudly with my chin up, my chest inflated, and my shoulders back, while listening to familiar song. It was at that time, listening to taps, that everything came together and made sense. I felt

something I've never felt before. It started in my stomach, a slight warm, nervous feeling that quickly circulated around my body and completely overwhelmed me. It was a sense of pride so strong that it is still difficult for me to understand. I find this feeling impossible to forget, and I desperately seek to find it again. Now I know with all my heart that I want to be in the Coast Guard. I would do anything to see my reflection in that same window again. I want it to be different though. I don't want to be a boy with a dream in an AIM tee shirt. I want to be a cadet in uniform knowing I have a chance to be somebody, a chance to be an officer. 

I sit here struggling to compose an answer to a question that always seemed to be so easy to think about.

Why do I want to pursue a career in the Coast Guard? It's as if I've been asked why my heart feels the need to beat, Because it does, it has to, and it always had. This may sound melodramatic, but I am serious when I say that a career in the Coast Guard is just as important to me as my beating heart, and just as my heart has always been with me, so too, has my desire to be in the Coast Guard.

From the first time I was held by my father and I saw the blue and gold on his uniform, I knew where I wanted my life to take me. I spoke my first words "tour of duty" a few years later. I like to think I knew even than the importance of the word duty, although it is such a strong word for a young child to fully grasp. Only now do I comprehend the full meaning. Shortly after that I began coloring and drawing. The first things I sketched were crossed anchors and Coast Guard vessels. To this day a very special plate hangs in my kitchen that I made a spring morning in kindergarten class. It is adorned with an officer standing on a Coast Guard vessel inscribed with the letters U.S.C.G. and the words "Happy Mother's Day" written in the corner.

With age came responsibility and I was soon dressing myself. My parents found it impossible to keep my makeshift uniform, modeled after my father's, off of my body and in the closet. Around the same time I began watching movies with my father, movies including Full Metal Jacket, Flight of the Intruder, and Top Gun. That created even more enthusiasm for the military, and planted seeds of a deep desire within me to be a pilot. This was just a beginning, part of a childhood dream.

This dream is still a part of me, but today it is slightly different. Today, as I have matured with age, I have a better understanding of life. With life comes death, it is inevitable. On my deathbed I want to be able to look back and see the faces of the hundreds of people I have assisted and influenced in my life as a Coast Guard officer. I know I can make a difference. If given the opportunity, I intend to better the lives of all the people around me through the Coast Guard's core values of "honor, respect and devotion to duty". These values will define who I am throughout my career as an officer, and with them I know I will have the ability to make something out of myself, and more importantly to make the Coast Guard, and my country proud.”

It's very dramatic, and looking back at this now, all I can think is that this kid sounds kind of like a tool, but the end of the message still rings true after all these years:

“On my deathbed, I want to be able to look back and see the faces of the hundreds of people I have assisted and influenced in my life as a Coast Guard officer. I know I can make a difference.”

I take the SATs and ACTs again before the application is due. I have been going through all the prep books and have a tutor to help me get the best results. I have done everything I can to be the ideal candidate for the Coast Guard Academy, and I confidently submit my one and only college application before the early action deadline.

Early action decisions are promised by December, and I don’t hear anything.

Months go by, and I don’t hear anything.

Finally, on February 6, 2003, I get a letter from the Coast Guard Academy and nervously open it.

“You have been selected as an "Alternate" for an Appointment to the U. S. Coast Guard Academy, which means that you have been placed on our Appointment waiting list.”

Iron Mike Tyson famously said, “Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the mouth.” This letter is a punch in the mouth. This letter, these words, absolutely devastate me. The entire plan for my life relies on my being accepted into the Coast Guard Academy, and now I am an alternate.

The letter promises that “selection for a full or conditional appointment will normally take place by May 1. You will be notified of your final status as soon as possible, but no later than June 1, 2003… You should feel good about your standing within the process. To be selected as an alternate means that you are in the top 15% of a strong pool of applicants that includes some of the best and most competitive students in the nation. We are very pleased to have candidates of your caliber in the competition, and wish you well in the final stages of our selection process.”

I can assure you that I do not feel good about my standing.

Since my dad is still active duty in the Coast Guard, he has been getting vague updates about my application process through emails. After the letter that is currently ruining my life, my dad gets another email from Coast Guard Academy admissions.

“Captain,

I wanted to apprise you about some decisions we made yesterday regarding your son's application file. He was retried by the CCEB (Cadet Candidate Evaluation Board) and earned enough points to become an alternate. 

At this time, George will remain an alternate. We have forwarded his name

for possible NAPS consideration and we administer NAPS (Naval Academy Preparatory School) convening boards at least weekly.

He will also remain in the alternate pool for further consideration.

George's application and overall record is a fine one and you should be proud of your son...but it is a very competitive pool of applicants this year.

The average SAT scores for this year's appointments are just around 1300.

His math score is hurting him somewhat (590). The average math scores is usually around the 670 mark. We do emphasize the Math score over the verbal score.

I guess I would categorize his status as a "low alternate"

He has a good opportunity to surface up later in the process....but for now, he needs to remain an alternate.

The Director of Admissions and I would like to offer this up.

Historically, we identify 2-5 applicants who would accept a last minute/last day appointment...this might mean a Swearing-In Day appointment. The last two years have seen no-shows during the first day of Swab Summer or a quick drop during the first week.

The Comdt of Cadets and the Supe have always directed me to try to fill these unexpected spots in the class with stand-by appointees.

We would like to offer George this opportunity. 

For now... he remains an alternate, he will continue to be considered for NAPS, and more importantly...he will be the first applicant offered an appointment if someone does not show up for Class of 2007 swearing-in.

Also, he might be called and invited to join the class if we have some early drops during the first week.

I think the chances are very good that George will be joining the Class of 2007 with this offer.

I hope this is something to hang his hat on.

I know it is not definitive, but at least it is something.

Knowing that he did not apply to other schools...we felt he would be a good fit for this type of offer.

Give me a call if you have any concerns or questions.

Thanks Captain,

Associate Director of Admissions”

This ruins me.

I have built my identity around getting into the Coast Guard Academy. I have told anyone who will listen that I am going there. I have no backup plan and totally “burnt the ships” because I thought my future was guaranteed.

Now this email turns me from a future officer destined to fly Coast Guard helicopters into a “low alternate”, and any confidence I still have disappears instantly.

I am due to graduate high school in four months. The only school I applied to has not accepted me, and my future now depends on prep school, a last-minute appointment, or someone else not showing up. I am too embarrassed to tell anyone and have no idea what I am supposed to do.

Throughout high school, I enjoy taking art classes, and I have taken pretty much every single art class my school has to offer. I spend my study halls in the art studios painting and doing pottery. I love the creative outlet. When I tell my art teacher that I was rejected from the Coast Guard Academy, she tells me she will help me put together a portfolio to apply to Rhode Island School of Design because she believes I am a phenomenal artist and would excel in art school. I consider it briefly, but only because the Academy rejection hurts so badly that I don’t want to face it. This is the closest thing I have to a plan B.

I also consider enlisting in the Coast Guard and attempting to be a rescue swimmer, but all I can focus on is that my plan is falling apart.

For months, I eagerly check the mail and call to harass Coast Guard Academy admissions. With each day that passes, I fear the guidance counselor and teacher were right when they told me I had no chance. The soccer season and hockey season end, and I have nothing else to look forward to. All of my friends are getting accepted into their dream schools and doing college campus tours.

I have no plan, and I am struggling.

Eventually, on April 29, 2003, two months before graduation, I am given an appointment to the Naval Academy Preparatory School. This is a great opportunity. NAPS is in Newport, Rhode Island, only about ten minutes from my house. I will still be able to see my girlfriend on the weekends, and if I make it through NAPS with high enough grades, I can get into the Coast Guard Academy the next year.

I should be happy, but I am not. I still feel like I failed, and this is a huge setback with no guarantee of making it into the Coast Guard Academy. 

This rejection doesn't just make me question whether I am going to make it to the Coast Guard Academy. It makes me question everything about who I thought I was and could be.

On June 13, 2003, I graduate from Portsmouth High School, and I don’t celebrate at all because any sense of accomplishment is overshadowed by my failure.