At Graduation, My Parents - Who Paid for My Sister’s Entire College But Refused to Pay for Mine

Gradually, they began to allow me to do small tasks that required certain skills. I happily took on everything. Many students from our college not only did not try to get a job there, they simply thought it was impossible because such interns are usually taken from more famous universities. But I knocked on doors asking for a chance, and I was lucky.

When my first summer in college ended, I learned about the opportunity to study fast and take some of the CPA exams early. I realized that if I worked like a horse, I could pass some of the exams before graduation. Again, no one around me believed that this was possible for a regular student, but I was confident in myself. I had the strength.

Around the same time, I met Professor Mclofflin at an elective. He taught an additional course on international financial reporting standards. I signed up for it, although the course was difficult and very extensive. On the first day of classes, he came up to me after the lecture and asked: “Rachel, you have quite a strong base. Where did you study before?” “Well, not really anywhere in particular. I just read a lot, study, try to figure it out.” “Do you like accounting?” “Yes, very much. I believe that order in numbers creates order in both business and in minds.”

“What a surprising formulation,” he smiled. “I’m looking for an assistant who could help me prepare materials, sometimes check students’ work. If you’re interested, let me know.” “Of course I’m interested. I’ll be very happy.” Euphoric with this new opportunity, I went back to my room and happily called my mother. I was still hoping that some praise would break through their usual cold approval, but my mother responded: “Well, that’s good, Rachel.”

But Hannah told me that she was invited to a party at a professor’s country house and there will be a lot of high society people there, so she has her own pride. “You’re both doing well,” my mother said. I sighed heavily. The situation was like this: I was an assistant to an accounting professor, and my sister was going to a party, but for Mom and Dad, it was an equal success. Perhaps it will always be like this for them.

One evening, while I was sitting in the library until closing time, I received an email. The subject line was: “Benjamin Ford scholarship information letter”. I opened it, not immediately understanding what it was about.

It turned out to be a national program, very prestigious in the field of accounting. Each year it is awarded to only five students in the entire country. The requirements are strict: excellent academic performance, outstanding extracurricular activities, leadership qualities, recommendations from professors, and a lot of other items.

To be honest, I didn’t even think about applying for this scholarship, thinking that it was too high a standard. But Professor Mclofflin must have sent my portfolio himself. He had a practice of recommending smart students without warning them so that they wouldn’t get nervous ahead of time.

The email said that I was being invited to submit a formal application since the committee had been impressed by the preview of my achievements. I sat in shock, rereading it several times, and finally I decided, I have to try.

I didn’t tell my parents or Hannah about my intention. By that time, I had already learned my lesson. My aspirations, my victories are my own business. They won’t pay attention anyway, or will consider it something insignificant. Why should I see their indifference once again?

It took me several weeks to prepare for the competition. I had to submit all the documents, write an essay, complete several tasks, and submit recommendations. Professor Mclofflin helped me, gave me advice, checked the texts, and pointed out mistakes. I gave it my all.

Then I sent the documents, and for several months, I just crossed it out of my mind. Work, study, internship, and preparing for the CPA exams filled my everyday. I did not allow myself to relax for a minute.

Three months later, in the evening after another shift at the library, I found a letter in the mail. “Congratulations, you are one of five winners of the Benjamin Ford scholarship”. I reread these lines experiencing a storm of emotions: joy, pride, disbelief, excitement, and most importantly, that quiet voice inside me suddenly turned on, saying: “You see, Rachel, you can do it. You did it.”

I closed my eyes and almost cried from the feelings that overwhelmed me. For the first time, I realized that now no one would be able to ignore me. Although this sounds a little arrogant, this is exactly what I wanted my whole life: to be noticed. But inside, I was not only proud; there was also weariness. What about my parents? How will they react? Will they even want to congratulate me?

The award ceremony was announced in advance. It was to be held at one of the leading universities, where representatives of large auditing firms, investors, journalists, and teachers from all over the country were coming. I was asked to take my parents with me. “This will be a special day for them, they will be able to see what you have achieved,” the organizer said over the phone.

I admit I hesitated. Part of me didn’t want to invite them because I was afraid of another cold statement or underestimation. But the other part, the stubborn inner child, still hoped to receive at least a drop of pride from them.

And so I dialed the home number. “Hi Mom, remember how I told you I was entering this big competition? Something like that.” “Yeah, what’s it all about anyway?” “I won one of the most prestigious national scholarships in accounting. I’m invited to the award ceremony, and they’re asking me to bring my parents.” “Really?” I heard Mom raise her voice and call out to Dad. “Charles, come here. Rachel is saying something about an award.” I picked up the phone again. “When’s the ceremony?” “In two weeks, Friday, in the morning. It’s in a different city, but I’ll check with you to see what’s most convenient for you. They want to see you there.” “Okay, we’ll try to make it,” Mom spoke in a tone as if she wasn’t sure whether it was really worth the time.

I hung up the phone feeling empty. “Okay,” I told myself, “even if they come, let them see it with their own eyes. Maybe then something will change.” But I no longer had the same childish hope. I had become more hardened by this point.