What it’s like to go to college and leave your (very) little brother behind.

My college application personal essay.

This summer giving tours at W&M, many people ask me if I can give them a bit of advice for their application. My single best bit of advice is to write your personal essay about ‘you’.  Don’t write about your grandmother, or your dog Pookie, or your amazing dad. Just write about yourself. Talking about this daily has me thinking about what I wrote for my essay that I submitted to W&M. I applied to a whopping 9 schools, and of course I procrastinated on all of my applications. Maybe in the back of my mind, I thought that a college would just dial me up and invite me to come.  At the end of the day, in the midnight hour, my Mom decided to take drastic action and lock me in her office until I finished all my essays.

I wrote my fateful W&M essay on how my parents had ruined my life by giving me a little brother when I was ten years old. I was the sole and rightful owner of the title of “youngest child” in our family, and how dare they take that away from me? Now I was stuck with the mediocre and boring title of “middle child” and all of the plainness and lack of attention that

comes with it. I decided to retaliate against my parents by teaching my little brother, James, to run into walls and burp the alphabet. I would also get him into a headlock any chance I got. My older sister was appalled at my behavior and my parents were disgusted, but I found it to be an absolutely delightful past time.

Reminiscing about this essay has made me think about the role my little brother has had in my life. When he was born, I remember bringing chocolate bars to my 6^th grade class that had his name on them.  Why my Mother sent me to school with these, I can’t say. Middle school came and went with his toddler years and confusing my American girl dolls for drool victims. In high school I became familiar with what a Yugio card was and James was constantly the subject of my personal rain of harassment. Not a day went by where I didn’t trip him or give him a wedgie.  Though it was all in good fun, I’m sure he’s going to be scarred for life.

When my family drove me down to William and Mary on that momentous move-in day, James was there – taking the clothes hangers out of my boxes and testing out my new T.V. When I had to say goodbye to my parents and leave them behind, I gave him a pat on the head, and I was off. Later that night when I was getting ready to spend my first night in what would be my freshman dorm room, I picked up a letter that was left on my desk. It was from James and had a toy microphone with it (my parents had made an emergency run to Target). The letter said “Bye Blair, I love you and miss you” in his scribble scrabble. I put it up on my

bulletin board and it stayed there for the rest of the year.  Throughout the year, James would send me letters with comics and a random assortment of clippings. There’s not a doubt in my mind that this was all at the command of my mother, but I saved every one of them. My favorite was a card of a pig cupid that he sent me for Valentine’s Day.

When I came home from college that first summer, James had grown so much.  Still, I was only focused on seeing my high school friends and talking to them alllll about college. When James would ask me to play Wii with him, I would say I was too busy. When sophomore year rolled around, James came to move me in again. My mother, James and I lugged all my stuff into my room on the third floor of my sorority house. It was disgustingly hot and James basically sat and drank his Gatorade and played with his light saber. When it was time for them to go back home, I packed them back up in the car and sent them off.  Coming back to my room, I realized that James had left his light saber. I stuck it under my bed until the next time I’d see him.

Later sophomore year, James’ class went on a field trip to Colonial Williamsburg. I trekked around CW with two friends looking for him. We went into every corner in the pouring rain looking for him, and we finally found his class. When he saw me he hid behind all of his friends and pretended like he didn’t know me. Typical behavior for a little boy.  Girls have cooties, right? I knew he was happy that I had searched him out, but maybe – just maybe – he was still a little p.o.’d at me for all those wedgies.

Summer after sophomore year I decided to make more of an effort with James. He was getting ready to go into fifth grade, after all, and I figured we could maybe be friends.  That summer was my last year as a camp counselor, and I would drive around town with James as we jammed to our favorite summer song, “Fire Burning” by Sean Kingston. I would drive him to his swim practices as we learned all the words, and it became something we bonded over.

As junior year rolled around, it was time to move back to school. James and my mother came down as usual to move me in. This time instead of forgetting his light saber, he left a rubik’s cube game that he had gotten that day from the bookstore. This wasn’t your ordinary rubik’s cube. It was a crazy light up rubik’s cube where you would have to hit a certain side once it lit up. It was matched with music and got increasingly faster as you went along.  This game quickly became a favorite among my friends, and whenever someone came by our room they weren’t allowed to leave until they had made an attempt at the cube. The record was 43 and we wrote all of the scores down on a massive score board. It was serious business and I was constantly reminded of my little brother all fall semester.

As winter exams came to a close, it was time to get ready to go abroad. I came home for Christmas and was frantically trying to get all of my things in order. This past winter it snowed a TON, and James and I went sledding on the street next to our cul de sac. He was very envious of my ability to go faster than him and huffed and puffed all about it. Even though I was excited, I was really nervous about traveling all the way to Italy to go abroad. Finally, whether I liked it or not, January 25^th rolled around and my family took me

to the airport. My sister had already gone back to school, so it was just me, James, my mom and my dad. James and I were in the backseat and listening to his iPod. “Fire Burning” came on the shuffle, and James and I started jamming along to our favorite song. All of a sudden, I started feeling weird. My breaths were coming a lot shorter.  My eyes were getting watery. What the heck was going on? Was I crying?

My parents helped me get my bags through and it was time to say goodbye and head through security.  All of a sudden I was bawling in the middle of the crowded airport and it was really embarrassing. I let go of James and walked through security and made it down the escalator. I kept telling myself that I couldn’t turn around or else I might not make it to Florence. While I was abroad, James sent me yet another Valentine. We tried to Skype when we could and I was informed of his bike riding dates with girls in our neighborhood. What? James likes girls?

When I returned from Florence my entire extended family was waiting for me at the airport. James subjected me to his smelly feet and at the grocery store we bonded over the deliciousness of Cheetos. I tried to hang out with him as much as I could before I headed to Williamsburg. Then it came time for me to go. About two weeks ago, I received a phone call that James had asked my mother to take him to Abercrombie kids. I had to see it for myself. Taking the train home, I was greeted by my father and James at the train station. On our drive home, James insisted

on playing me his latest songs on his iTouch – Justin Bieber, Ke$ha, and La Roux. I made a face as if to ask what was going on, and my Dad told me to just roll with it. When we got home my parents told James to give me a fashion show of his new apparel. It was shocking, to say the least. Where was my little brother and what had my parents done with him? It dawned on me that I needed to hang out with James before it was too late and he was someone I didn’t even know anymore. We went to the pool all day and went to see Despicable Me – he brought his iTouch along so we could translate what those little yellow things were saying.  I have to say that I had a great time and finally realized what I had been missing out on all along. Now that James is heading into the dark time in his life known as ‘middle school’, I know I have to look out for him, guide him and teach him all the tricks in the book. At the same time, I can’t help but reminisce on all the things James has taught me. He’s been there at every single important milestone in my life, and could probably write my biography. Hopefully, when he does, he won’t include all of those wedgies.