It's Official!

When I submitted my application to Oxford during the first week of January, I felt confident enough of my chances of getting into my program of choice: a MSt in English literature, focusing on the period from 1900 to the present. With my strong academic background at Stanford, and my abiding interest in literature, it seemed objectively likely that I would get in.

But of course the doubts crept in. In the past I hadn't focused on the twentieth century period. My honors thesis and much of my relevant coursework had been on the nineteenth century. (And, I admit, the nineteenth century novel is still one of my greatest literary loves. I had valid reasons for wanting to switch to the twentieth century instead, but was it really the best choice? Would the panel wonder why I wasn't applying for the 1830-1914 strand?) Even though I had put months of thought and preparation into my Rhodes application, I had written my actual Oxford personal statement very hastily, within the space of a few hours right after getting back from a three-week vacation overseas (during which I blithely and blatantly procrastinated the entire time). Plus, this was Oxford. Every year some Rhodes scholars do not get into their first-choice academic program. They figure it out eventually, but some graduate programs in Oxford are competitive with limited space, so no application is a sure thing.

I had been told that I wouldn't hear back on the department decision until at least mid-March, so I sat and waited. A second application round approached at the beginning of March, and all of the Rhodes scholars got an email from the Rhodes House warden informing us that we could put together an application to another program as a back-up if we wished. I hemmed and hawed for several days on this. Besides the fact that I was drowning in schoolwork at the end of February, I honestly did not have another program I wanted as much as a graduate program in English, or for which my application would be as strong. And my chances in English were good enough anyway, weren't they? So I sat and waited some more, feeling slightly panicky for not covering my bases.

And then, this past Friday, the email I'd been waiting for finally arrived.

Dear Ms. Kolb,

I am delighted to inform you that your application for admission to the University of Oxford as a graduate student has been successful. We would like to offer you a place for the Master of Studies in English (1900-present) beginning 14th October 2013...

Every time I clear another hurdle in this process, I feel stunned all over again. At one point in my life, when would I ever have thought I'd be going to the University of Oxford? As a graduate student? (A humorous aside: another friend of mine recently got her offer to Oxford in a different department, and the letter was much more - shall we say - dryly phrased than this one. The English faculty, for all their Britishness, actually expressed delight! I am going to need to get used to this British tenor, which seems to range from a bone-dry quality to words such as "delightful" and "splendid," which one doesn't see nearly as often in the U.S.)

I haven't heard yet which college I'll be in. That decision should arrive within a few weeks, further prolonging the strung-out process of preparing to become an enrolled student in the UK. And then I'll have the visa tangle to worry about. But, for now, I'm looking forward to celebrating with my family at home this week for spring break - it's official, I'm going to Oxford!! Twentieth century writers, here I come.