We never know how high we are
Till we are called to rise;
And then, if we are true to plan,
Our statures touch the skies.
—EMILY DICKINSON
IT’S THE MIDDLE of April, and by the end of the month I have to let Stanford know whether I’m enrolling in the fall. Since I never received any financial aid confirmation in the mail, last Monday I asked the dean of students, whom I’d met at the National Scholar dinner, if he could help find out what was going on. He advised leaving a message for the financial aid office asking about my package.
When the phone rings, I figure I’ll let the message go to voice mail, but the phone stops ringing and Danny comes running into my room.
“It’s for you,” he says.
“Who would call the house phone?” I say.
“I don’t know,” he says. “Some guy from Stanford.”
“Stanford?” I drop the bracelets I’m holding and race for the kitchen counter.
“Hello?” I say. “This is Jasmine de los Santos.”
“Hi, Jasmine. This is Richard Brown from Stanford University’s Office of Financial Aid. I’ve been trying to get in touch with you for a few days now.”
My heart pounds. “Sorry, Mr. Brown. I’ve had a crazy week.”
“I don’t normally make calls,” he says. “We usually send out letters to award recipients, but I had some extra time and wanted to call you and let you know personally that you are receiving a full financial aid package from our university, should you choose to enroll.”
“I’m eligible for financial aid?” I whisper. “You know I’m not a citizen or a green-card holder?”
“Yes, we do,” he says, as if it’s not a big deal at all. “Stanford subscribes to a need-blind admissions policy, and as an international student, you’ve been awarded a patron grant by a Stanford alumni. There are only a few of them available.”
“Wait,” I say, catching my breath. “I don’t understand. What’s a patron grant?”
“It’s a rare grant, and in your case will pay for much of your education here at Stanford. Around the same time we received your financial aid application, our department also received a grant that was specifically designated for you. You’ve also received several other smaller private grants and scholarships to cover your tuition. We’ll be notifying you about all of those. Have you made a decision about attending Stanford? I know many students don’t accept admission until they’ve been able to figure out the financial situation.”
“I want to attend Stanford,” I say like an idiot.
“That’s wonderful news. You’ll need to contact Admissions to officially accept. The deadline is May first.”
“I’ll do it right away,” I say. “I’ll get right on it.”
Yet in the back of my mind, I’m still wondering whether I can go. There’s still the matter of being able to stay in the country after all. Royce’s dad called the judge and pressed for a delay of deportation and reminded him that we were supposed to get temporary visas, but as usual, we haven’t heard if it was granted or not.
“Congratulations, Jasmine. This is a wonderful opportunity. We’re so happy to have you at Stanford. Do you have any questions for me?”
I’m still in shock. “No... Yes. Just one question. If an alumni specified a grant for me, may I know who that person is?”
“Sure. I have that information right here...”
I can’t believe what’s happening. This news is so wonderful. It’s as if my dreams are slowly unfurling in a breeze, only they’re way up on a hill that I still have to climb. I’m so excited. At the same time, I’m feeling selfish again. If our visas don’t come through soon, I don’t know if I can ask my family to risk being thrown into a detainment center just because I want to attend Stanford so badly.
“Here it is,” Richard Brown says. “The patron is Amelia Florence Marsh. She graduated forty years ago. She was one of the first women to graduate with a chemistry degree from Stanford.”
When I call Millie to thank her, I’m glad to hear she’s breathing easier. “I can’t believe you did this for me.”
“Did what?” she asks.
“Stanford. The grant?”
“I didn’t ask them to give it to you, Jasmine. Did they tell you that? I said I wanted them to choose an incoming female student who would use her education to give back to the world. The grant committee chose you. You earned it all on your own.”
Wow. I can’t believe it.
“I know you’re still unsure if can stay, but you know what? Now you know you’re truly good enough to go anywhere in the world. You have so many options. You just have to keep your eyes open to them.”
* * *
As I hang up the phone, Dad walks into the kitchen, looking for a box to pack.
I know I need to tread on gentle ground with him right now. “Stanford just called, Daddy. I’ve been awarded enough financial aid to attend all four years.”
I don’t tell him about Millie. It’ll make him think the award is pity money.
“That’s great,” Dad says. “Do they know you’re getting deported in June?”
“No! I can’t leave America. None of us can leave now! This isn’t just about me getting into Stanford. This is money to attend. This is everything. This is my future.”
“Tell that to the US government,” he says. “We skip out on deportation, and we could lose all our assets and sit in a detainment center playing solitaire for five years.”
I don’t say anything. He’s right. I can’t expect them to live under the pressure, especially since there’s a significant chance none of us may ever gain citizenship if we don’t follow the rules.
“It would be worse than bad,” he says. “You see those people who get kicked out? They have nothing. That’s where we would be if we took too many risks. I’m sure they can take away all that scholarship money too, along with everything we own.”
“But Royce’s dad called the judge and asked him to change his mind,” I insist. “We heard him talk to him on the phone. He said it would all work out.”
“Well, where’s our extension, then?” Dad finally finds a box. He picks it up and opens the folds. “It’s okay if we leave—we can eat Filipino food all the time.”
I give him a weak smile. “How do you deal with all of this, Dad?” I ask. “Us leaving. Without being too sad? Without shutting down?”
“Ah, Jasmine. My girl,” he says, beckoning me to come to him. When I go over, he holds me with his strong, fatherly arms. “This world is filled with families who don’t have wonderful daughters like mine.”