So, it has been roughly five days since my last post and little has changed, yet much has changed. After receiving acceptance into UNT's PhD program in Literature, I was more excited than I had anticipated. Then, I got a notification of financial support from the Toulouse Graduate School of Arts and Sciences: it offered me a small academic scholarship and in-state tuition.
I was shocked by this. As I understood, PhD programs take care of their students fully. I let it stew for a few days, then wrote the school in an attempt to gain a better understanding of the situation and to solicit more funds. I made it clear that Louisiana was offering better funding, that it was only an MA program and how I did not understand why a PhD program is unable to fully funding its 15 accepted students. The woman with whom I corresponded said that the scholarship was just from the graduate school and that I would need to contact the department to find out about further and departmental support.
I felt (feel) pretty foolish, because I apparently have no idea what to expect from graduate schools and programs since they vary so greatly. I had no idea that they offered scholarships, I thought it was all or nothing. Anyway, I have vacillated back and forth several times between Louisiana and Texas in the last several days, and now am worn out. I still have to hear from Columbia and Vanderbilt. While the two former offer assurance, security and familiarity, I desperately want to attend either of the latter schools, but I am not holding my breath. Both of them are sooooooo amazing and prestigious and soo...so...beyond me.
Many of my amazing friends who applied to prestigious schools and were not been accepted have already heard, but that doesn't mean anything, really. I hope that it does, but there is no concrete evidence to support such idylls. I keep telling myself that since I haven't heard, maybe they are actually considering me. Maybe they will take a chance on me. But, I cannot allow myself to grasp at such ephemeral, evanescent delusions. To hope is to leave yourself open to the visceral pain of rejection. So, I dash hope and reject myself. I say, the rejection letters are probably on their way, having been delayed by some weird circumstance. I think this is some screw-ball coping mechanism, but it is all I've got.
I will continue to wearily watch the mail and hope for great news, but steel myself for the worst.