Deciding to Decline the Air Force

Author: Mayo Fujii

They have arrived. A light spring breeze, amplified to a gale force wind by the massive structure of Bicentennial Hall, stirs the tentative buds on the nearby trees. Birds twitter merrily, squirrels frolic freely … and herds of prospective students shuffle through campus anxiously. No longer are these the apathetic high school juniors being dragged to one "prestigious" college after another in their parents' vain hope of getting a jump start on the process. These are high school seniors in the home stretch of the college search and there's a different look on their faces — panic. A panic that only months of info sessions, tours and college applications can invoke. It all comes down to now. Everyone is asking themselves the same question: Out of the many different campuses, dorm rooms, dining facilities, peer types, geographic distributions, sizes, tuitions … which is the right fit?

Deciding where to go to college is one of the ultimate decisions in life, or so it seems. It ranks right up there with what profession to enter, who to marry, what to name the children, where to send them to college. Actually, when it comes down to it, just how important is it? Looking back on the incredibly stressful process, I have to question its justifications. There's no doubt, however, that it is a learning experience and one of the first peaks to summit in life.

It was in deciding between the United States Air Force Academy and Middlebury College that I found, for the first time, a reason to stop and ask myself who I had become and what I wanted to do with my future. The whirlwind of my adolescent life paused for a moment and amidst the drafts of college essays, lists of extracurricular activities and interests, SAT scores, and soccer résumés, it registered. This is college we're talking about, the real thing. When did this happen? In the words of Anthony Hopkins, "… doesn't it go by in a blink." It was time to take a step back.

The Air Force Academy had been a spur-of-the-moment thing. One day in the summer before senior year I received an informational postcard in the mail and decided that it could be fun to become a pilot. No, I admit, it was a little more than that. The extensive application process and the lifestyle that the Academy promoted was a challenge that appealed to some strange and slightly twisted element of my personality. I saw it as a true test of character, something that could really evaluate who I was and what I could accomplish. I returned the information request postcard, deciding to complete the preliminary steps in applying and learn more about what I was getting myself into as I went along.

The more I thought about it, however, and the further I got into applying, the harder it was for me to consider turning back. I had been in touch with the Division I soccer coach, sent letters to my state senators and representative, and contacted and met with my liaison officer. After all of the time that I had put into it and that I had asked others to put into it, the Air Force Academy application process was not something I could simply turn my back on. In addition to that, when I was flown out for an official visit, the Academy became more of a reality, more attainable and that much more appealing.

Then there was Middlebury, the small New England liberal arts college that was a safe fit for my personality and goals, someplace I knew I would benefit greatly from and where I could really experience college life and a multi-talented community. To add to the drama, I had decided (for a few reasons) that if I were going to apply to Middlebury, it would be early decision. I felt like I was at this immensely crucial crossroad, where everything I had become was being put on the line, and where my ultimate fate was being determined.

As the deadline for early decision applications approached and my panic was mounting, I weighed the factors. By going to the Air Force Academy I would be committing myself to at least a five year obligation to the United States Air Force and a lifestyle I was not sure I wanted, simply for the challenge. I realized that I had other interests and personal goals to consider that required more freedom than a military institution would allow. Knowing this, it slowly dawned on me that I really didn't want to go to the Air Force Academy as much as I thought I had. I knew I could survive and gain a unique experience from the Academy, but that wasn't enough. And so I started the un-application process of making the phone calls and writing the necessary thank-you-but-no-thank-you notes.

So I let go of the glorified image I had had of wearing a set of Air Force wings and guarding the skies like Maverick. Instead, I settled with the distinguished title of scholar-athlete that defines so many small liberal arts college students, yet allows so much diversity of character and achievement. As a first-year on campus there are no restrictions on how I can hold my bag as I walk around, where I can walk, what I wear or how I must sit and raise food to my mouth at meals. I have thought about what my first year would have been like if I had gone to Colorado Springs instead of staying in Vermont, but have never regretted the decision I made.

Where we go to College shapes who we are, but it doesn't define us. College had always been a large and distant place, a constant looming presence that seemed to be the determining factor in many of the decisions I made a long the way. Now that I'm here, it's just another slope to climb to reach that next big decision.