If at first you don't get the college of your choice ... you might be lucky

We're at the tail end of America's season of disappointment -- the time when kids hear from colleges.
The official statistics say there were more rejections this year than ever.
One reason is, the average student is applying to more schools -- sometimes to more than a dozen.
The other? Well, there are thousands of good colleges, but kids are more obsessed than ever with getting into the few hundred that are highly selective.
Many feel crushed if their top picks send thin envelopes. The pressure to be at "the" school is so great, kids think their lives will no longer be what they hoped.
I understand.
I took it that way when my own first choices shut me down. And when I faced later failures.
I got to thinking about this the other day, because I saw a wise headline over a story about Katherine McPhee, who came in second on "American Idol." Many observers were simply saying she lost. But this headline was based on the way other "Idol" also-rans have gone on to success.
The headline said: "Losing As A Blessing."
Often, it can be.
Thin envelope
I grew up in Chicago, and Oberlin College in Ohio had a lot of cachet. I had friends who went there, and I wanted to go there, too. But they sent me a thin envelope. I took a long, somber walk along a nearby Lake Michigan beach, feeling that my plans were now broken.
I ended up going to Middlebury College, in Vermont, which I applied to only because a counselor said I should. I knew little about the place.
It turned out to be a great four years. I connected to people who remain among my closer friends today. I'm sure Oberlin's a fine school, but it would have been wrong for me. Even though I wanted in, it was a blessing that it said no.
I ended up finding a job as a reporter on a small paper in Utica, N.Y. It turns out, it was the perfect way to start a career in my field. It led to where I am now, which is where I want to be.
One warning
I remember another failure, while I was in Utica. Out of laziness, I misread a news release and gave a prominent local businessman some lowly title, which embarrassed my executive editor. He called me in and said, "Around here, we warn 'em once and then fire 'em. I'm warning you once."
I wished it had never happened, but it's good that it did. It made me more careful, and no doubt saved me from bigger future mistakes.
There is a Star Trek episode in which Capt. James T. Kirk was given the power to go back in time and correct a big failure in his early career. Then, he returned to the present to find he was a mere junior officer, instead of the captain. He realized the experience of failing had been essential to his growth.
Bill Clinton is an example, too. He became the nation's youngest governor in 1978, at age 32. He roared into office with a huge agenda, soon getting much of it enacted, in 60 bills. Shockingly, two years later, he was defeated for re-election in an upset. He went back to practicing law, telling friends he felt aimless.
Then, he rallied and began to see why he'd failed -- that he'd been so cocky, he hadn't thought he had to respond to campaign attacks; and that, in politics, there's such a thing as doing too much.
"You have to live like a laser beam," Clinton would say later, "not a shotgun."
Mr. President
Without that failure, he probably wouldn't have grown enough to be able to gain the White House.
A year from now, kids will again be hearing from colleges.
Many, if not most, will be rejected from their top choices.
They won't know it at that time, but they may just be the lucky ones.
Mark Patinkin writes for The Providence Journal. Distributed by Scripps Howard News Service.