Ever since I ditched my AMCAS application, I have been running around blind, in circles, and full speed ahead into the darkness. That is to say, I’ve committed myself to a path that I know what I expect as a desired outcome but with no clear yellow brick road between where I am today and where I want to be. I’ve chosen to withdraw my application from AMCAS and concentrate on applying instead to business school in an attempt to switch to a finance-focused career. For better or for worse, this is the decision that I’ve made and will have to live with for this application cycle.After completing the application to a few select schools for the first round cycle, I now find myself in a waiting game. I’m waiting (and hoping) for an interview invitation to the schools that I’ve applied. An invite indicates that the admission committee is, at the very least, considering my application for acceptance. A lack of invite indicates my application is sitting in a trash can somewhere. It’s still early in the cycle and I know that an invite can arrive any day, but each subsequent day without an invite is a day that I face the grim reality that I might not gain admission to a business school.
Each day without any invite, I start to second-guess my decision. I say to myself “You were a better candidate for medical school.” In the medical school application world, I would be considered a traditional applicant. Far from being just another face in the crowd, being a traditional applicant at least meant that I finished four years of concurrent undergraduate studies where I also completed my pre-medical requirement and some advanced science course, and later completed the MCAT while still enrolled. I’ll be two years removed from my baccalaureate degree during the new school year, but would still be considered traditional. A label of ‘traditional applicant’ meant I passed the basic test, and didn’t require further screening as a non-traditional applicant would receive. Whatever happens after that, in the subjective medical admission process, is anyone’s guess. When applying to business school though, I am anything but a traditional applicant.
A traditional applicant (and by traditional here, I’m describing the cookie-cutter mold of a perfect applicant. I realize that a typical class is more diverse than the typical mold. I’m relying on this fact for an acceptance) applying to business school probably went to an undergraduate business powerhouse. Such powerhouses, or target school as they are known in the finance world, produce the candidates for the analyst position at some of the top private equity, investment banking, asset management, and consulting firms. After a few years, these candidates head to business schools (if the opportunity cost is worth it) in order to advance in their field, transition to a new field, or enter management roles in other industry.
I attended Hopkins (a powerhouse in medicine not finance), focused on volunteering at hospitals and shadowing medical doctors during my summer months rather than interning at finance firms and I’m currently in a non-finance position looking to transfer into a financial career. Business schools do allot some seats for professionals to transition into a new career, but many of these professionals have spent some years in their initial industry. To top it off, the average age of the schools on my list is twenty-eight (28) and I just turned twenty-three (23) not too long ago. There are a few things in my favor, (1) I’m currently in a job that puts in a position to independently handle vital matters and manage/advise other professionals, (2) I majored in economics during undergrad, (3) my GMAT scores actually places me in the range of all the schools I’m applied to, and (4) business schools have recently underwent a change to accept more younger applicants (such as myself), and (5) I do fall in the range for every school I applied to.
My decision to apply to business school was not an easy one. I’ve since created contingency plans in such a case as one where I do not gain admission to business school. Each day, I analyze this plan and imagine how each event would play out if I am forced to actually carry it out as a contingency plan. I addressed many of the points above (the ones where I depart from a traditional applicant) in the essays that I submitted for each school I applied, and knowing that this information is in those essays (which I’m hoping some admission member is reading at this moment) brings some comfort. In the meanwhile, I’ll keep my Blackberry close by and continue on with the rest of the applications that I saved for the second round.