50 for 50: 1988

YEAR: 1988

AGE: Turned 18 on Nov. 6

LOCATION: Chicago, Rascher Avenue; Milwaukee/Marquette U., McCormick Hall

BEARS' RECORD: 12-4

SONGS I LIKED: "It's the End of the World as We Know It" by R.E.M.; "Just Got Paid" by Johnny Kemp; "Hysteria" by Def Leppard; "New Sensation" by INXS

MOVIES I SAW: "Moonstruck," "The Great Outdoors," "Bull Durham," "A Fish Called Wanda," "Rattle and Hum"

TV SHOWS I WATCHED: "The Wonder Years," "Mr. Belvedere," "Just the Ten of Us"

VIDEO GAMES I PLAYED: The Legend of Zelda, Ikari Warriors

MUSIC VIDEOS I ENJOYED: "Welcome to the Jungle" by Guns 'n' Roses; "Handle with Care" by the Traveling Wilburys

In 1988, I graduated high school, worked and lived through the hottest summer of my life, and began college. The question became, do I write about the last months of high school, the summer, or the beginning of college? 

Perhaps, all three with a common theme: the comfort zone.

I already wrote about stepping out of the comfort zone when I was 9. It's a much different zone when you're 17, but in some ways, just as scary. 

Senior year was awesome. Sure, there were struggles and heartbreak, but I was getting good grades and felt a strong bond with my friends. My dream college was Northwestern, but part of me figured I'd end up at the University of Illinois with at least a few of those friends.

U. of I. had other ideas. The state's high school class of '88 was a bubble, with a surge of students ready for college. Illinois' admission standards became surprisingly tougher, based on class rank and your ACT. I had a good ACT score, and my rank was terrible -- I was in the 22nd percentile at a competitive college prep high school. It could have been higher if I hadn't chunked my first semester of freshman year -- too many Cs left me with a so-so grade-point average. That semester was generally an aberration, and by the time I applied to Illinois, my GPA was respectable ... but not quite respectable for the chart on the application, which said I needed to be in the 16th percentile with that GPA to get into the pre-journalism program.

I wrote a short note (the application didn't have an essay) explaining why my rank wasn't as high as it could be, but it ended up not mattering -- I didn't get in. Then a good friend who was a better writer than me didn't get into Northwestern, leading me to not even bother with the essay. Unless I stayed home and went to DePaul or UIC, I would be leaving my comfort zone, like it or not.

I had already been accepted to Marquette, which had a great journalism program. I had visited for an open house in November, and in February, shadowed with journalism student who I ended up becoming good friends with. I really liked the school, and though I knew it would be expensive, MU put together a decent financial aid package for me and was practically begging me -- a student from a Catholic high school with good grades and a bunch of extracirriculars -- to enroll.

Still, I hesitated -- I was going to miss my friends who were heading to school in other directions. I almost considered applying to Northern Illinois, where, with my grades and ACT, I was guaranteed acceptance, then transferring. My guidance counselor talked me out of it: "Go to Marquette, you'll love it." And I did.

In retrospect, I wasn't that far out of my comfort zone at Marquette. I was nervous and unsteady and wide-eyed for the first semester, and there were of course bumps, but I never felt overwhelmed or alone. Home was only 90 minutes away. I was able to start writing for the school's newspaper right way, and being in Milwaukee, I was working for a major metro newspaper by the end of 1990 -- an opportunity I would have never gotten at U. of I. 

Did I make the safe choice by picking Marquette over Indiana or Northern Illinois or just staying home and commuting? I don't think so. I chose a college based on what felt like the best fit and scared me just enough. Damn, that's some good wisdom I need to reinforce with my own kids. Not getting into U. of I. stung, but I came to realize that I still might of picked to Marquette even if I got in.

I'll zip through the rest of 1988 and finish off the post. After I chose Marquette, the rest of the school year was a blur -- I remember some fun moments but draw a blank on some track meets, classes, weekends, and other things I normally would have savored. Prom in early May was great, but the final few weeks of school was just about pointless. I took my AP English exam (got a 3 -- I would have gotten a 4 but I forgot the names of Claudius and Polonius during the test), ran my last track meet, breezed through finals, and graduated. 

Graduation was surprising -- if I may brag, I won an award for best exemplifying the the spirit and mission of the high school. I arrived to a classroom where we were being staged to my friend John saying, "Did you look at the program -- you won something." The graduates sat with their parents during the ceremony, and though I had no idea the award actually existed, I felt like I won it as a thank you to them.

Summer was great. We knew our group would be fracturing a bit, but we didn't waste a single evening or weekend. I worked at SportMart that summer, hung out by our friend Tom's house a lot, got drunk for the first time, and clung to our group while looking forward to the next step.

I got to start at Marquette a few days before all the other freshmen (orientation was a four-day party at MU), on a retreat for select students coming from Catholic high schools who could become leaders on campus during college. I had to be nominated for that, and if anything, it made orientation seem less daunting. My dad drove me to Milwaukee on a Sunday, I moved all my stuff into my dorm room, had lunch and saw "Die Hard" with Dad (I had a few hours to kill before the bus took us to the retreat somewhere near Elkhorn), and hugged him goodbye. I was now a college student.

There are so many other memories to write about from this year. I worked as the manager of Marquette's cross country team, which was so much fun. I made many new friends, and I figured out how to live without parents nearby. SprortMart was an experience, as was MU's orientation. Summer was so hot. I went to the Wisconsin Dells with a group of people I barely knew. The first time home was weird, and the first time visiting my friends at U. of I. was memorable.

But all those stories are for other blog posts. This post was about transition. We all face transitions and risks and uncertainty and enthusiasm. When you're 17, all those things are wondrously rolled into one.