Third Attempt Club

[G0navybeat@rmy]

Good luck to you, I'll be a 4th time reapplicant this go around. If you know you want it, never give up.

 

[AN21]

I was thinking about my course of action if I'm not pulled from the waitlist, and I think I'll continue with NROTC. USNA is an amazing opportunity, but I don't want to start over when I'll be halfway to a commission. That's what matters in the end - the commission, not the source.

 

[LT360]

I was thinking about my course of action if I'm not pulled from the waitlist, and I think I'll continue with NROTC. USNA is an amazing opportunity, but I don't want to start over when I'll be halfway to a commission. That's what matters in the end - the commission, not the source.

As said many times before, the source of the commission does not matter once everyone is an O-1.

Go Navy

 

[Hope2026]

The Third Attempt Club card is a very bittersweet membership to possess in one's wallet; however, I would like to assert that it is a card worthy of carrying with pride. I initially applied in my senior year of high school as so many do, and I felt incredibly confident going into the application process as I come from a very academically qualified (and rather unique overall) school. With the support I had as well as the school's reputation for putting students into Ivy Leagues with handsome scholarships, to boot, how could I fail? See, that was the mentality NO ONE should have when he/she desires an appointment to a SA. At the time, I did not have the experience or the self-understanding necessary to excel at the Academies. It did not matter whether I had the pedigree or the extracurriculars; I was quite simply not ready. Subsequently, I received the dreaded TWE on April 15th, and I felt as though my entire world was turned upside down (Covid's very much unwelcomed debut and my father almost dying of a pulmonary embolism notwithstanding). At that point in time, I felt as though I was never going to accomplish what I set out to do. It all felt so overwhelming. However, I had a kernel of prudence before this all unfolded: I had applied to a preparatory military college. That one off-handed decision turned out to be both an extraordinary adventure and my golden ticket. I thought I was the bee's knees, but when I arrived on the steps of my barracks, I quickly learned that I had a mountain of training to undergo! There, I experienced my first bout of food poisoning on the first day, suffered the horrors of institutional food and its unspoken evils, grinded through a STEM-heavy curriculum with my class, and made great friends. First semester, I became very familiar with the feeling of failure. I dealt with roommate squabbles, low points, insecurities, and academic shortcomings. The beauty is, though, is that I grew from my mistakes. I promised myself that I would knock it out of the ballpark next semester, and sure enough, I did! Well, academically speaking. Did I have plenty of extracurriculars? Yes! Did I bring my overall GPA to a 3.6? Absolutely! But did I conquer my fears associated with the requirements of the Academies? No. I still let fear of putting myself against the grit without reservation rule my mind. It didn't help that my only nominating source had received a new representative, who then proceeded to drop my name from slate, but I knew in my heart that I did not make myself the candidate that the Academies were looking for. I had failed for a second time. I had a long talk with myself after that. I needed to know for certain why I was pursuing this path as well as make myself understand the primary role of the Academies: to produce warfighting commissioned officers. Do I still want to go medical corps? Of course I do, but after doing much soul-searching, I finally made peace with myself in embracing the truth of my situation. Going into my third attempt at being offered an appointment to my desired academy, I applied with the mindset that I want to serve my country unabashedly, and that I wanted to realize my calling badder than I wanted to breathe (bad grammar intentional). This time, I would leave nothing on the table. I put in as many aspects of the application as early as I could. I joined as many extracurriculars as I humanly could. I PTed outside of regularly scheduled times as I could manage. Most importantly, I took EMS classes outside of my normal academic schedule. I pursued USNA with wild abandon. This year, I would distinguish myself from everyone else, and I would not be denied. If I did, I could walk away happy knowing that I did everything and beyond that was made available to me. My day-to-day was ruthless on my time and mind; I typically started at 0400 or 0500 and finished on three days out of the week at around 2300. I sold my soul on the weekends to work 8-12 hour rotations at ERs and on ambulances to meet the requirements of my EMT class during the Fall. Due to my relentlessness, though, I had a 4.0 GPA doing a 20+ credit hour schedule and obtained my EMT license at the end of Fall semester. This past semester, I just completed AEMT and will go get my updated license in the coming days. To put it succinctly, this year was absolute hell, but it made me stronger than most. I can time manage down to the hour, I have a great academic foundation, I have a solid PT routine, and I have the confidence to overcome any obstacle that comes my way. Over these past two years, I have learned and embraced the concept that life ought to be difficult and hellish because it inspires growth in a person. That's the same mindset that earned me appointments to both Navy and WP. Honestly, I would not have it any other way. I've made those who supported me throughout this journey proud. I'm bringing in great returns on investments. I have a whole career I can go down after a hopefully long term of service. I am doing what I love and am proud as punch of the woman who looks back at me in the mirror. I'm still growing, though, and there's a Mother B's worth of life experience to learn at the Academy, but I know that I have just enough experience now to support my peers and keep moving forward in my goals and aspirations. So, for all of those still traveling this path less traveled: if you wish to serve, never give up the ship. To hell with obstacles and odds. Even if you don't reach the SAs, you will be met with success in other avenues and acquire a treasure trove of experience and memories. Damn every last torpedo, FULL SPEED AHEAD!!!

 

[Heatherg21]

The Third Attempt Club card is a very bittersweet membership to possess in one's wallet; however, I would like to assert that it is a card worthy of carrying with pride. I initially applied in my senior year of high school as so many do, and I felt incredibly confident going into the application process as I come from a very academically qualified (and rather unique overall) school. With the support I had as well as the school's reputation for putting students into Ivy Leagues with handsome scholarships, to boot, how could I fail? See, that was the mentality NO ONE should have when he/she desires an appointment to a SA. At the time, I did not have the experience or the self-understanding necessary to excel at the Academies. It did not matter whether I had the pedigree or the extracurriculars; I was quite simply not ready. Subsequently, I received the dreaded TWE on April 15th, and I felt as though my entire world was turned upside down (Covid's very much unwelcomed debut and my father almost dying of a pulmonary embolism notwithstanding). At that point in time, I felt as though I was never going to accomplish what I set out to do. It all felt so overwhelming. However, I had a kernel of prudence before this all unfolded: I had applied to a preparatory military college. That one off-handed decision turned out to be both an extraordinary adventure and my golden ticket. I thought I was the bee's knees, but when I arrived on the steps of my barracks, I quickly learned that I had a mountain of training to undergo! There, I experienced my first bout of food poisoning on the first day, suffered the horrors of institutional food and its unspoken evils, grinded through a STEM-heavy curriculum with my class, and made great friends. First semester, I became very familiar with the feeling of failure. I dealt with roommate squabbles, low points, insecurities, and academic shortcomings. The beauty is, though, is that I grew from my mistakes. I promised myself that I would knock it out of the ballpark next semester, and sure enough, I did! Well, academically speaking. Did I have plenty of extracurriculars? Yes! Did I bring my overall GPA to a 3.6? Absolutely! But did I conquer my fears associated with the requirements of the Academies? No. I still let fear of putting myself against the grit without reservation rule my mind. It didn't help that my only nominating source had received a new representative, who then proceeded to drop my name from slate, but I knew in my heart that I did not make myself the candidate that the Academies were looking for. I had failed for a second time. I had a long talk with myself after that. I needed to know for certain why I was pursuing this path as well as make myself understand the primary role of the Academies: to produce warfighting commissioned officers. Do I still want to go medical corps? Of course I do, but after doing much soul-searching, I finally made peace with myself in embracing the truth of my situation. Going into my third attempt at being offered an appointment to my desired academy, I applied with the mindset that I want to serve my country unabashedly, and that I wanted to realize my calling badder than I wanted to breathe (bad grammar intentional). This time, I would leave nothing on the table. I put in as many aspects of the application as early as I could. I joined as many extracurriculars as I humanly could. I PTed outside of regularly scheduled times as I could manage. Most importantly, I took EMS classes outside of my normal academic schedule. I pursued USNA with wild abandon. This year, I would distinguish myself from everyone else, and I would not be denied. If I did, I could walk away happy knowing that I did everything and beyond that was made available to me. My day-to-day was ruthless on my time and mind; I typically started at 0400 or 0500 and finished on three days out of the week at around 2300. I sold my soul on the weekends to work 8-12 hour rotations at ERs and on ambulances to meet the requirements of my EMT class during the Fall. Due to my relentlessness, though, I had a 4.0 GPA doing a 20+ credit hour schedule and obtained my EMT license at the end of Fall semester. This past semester, I just completed AEMT and will go get my updated license in the coming days. To put it succinctly, this year was absolute hell, but it made me stronger than most. I can time manage down to the hour, I have a great academic foundation, I have a solid PT routine, and I have the confidence to overcome any obstacle that comes my way. Over these past two years, I have learned and embraced the concept that life ought to be difficult and hellish because it inspires growth in a person. That's the same mindset that earned me appointments to both Navy and WP. Honestly, I would not have it any other way. I've made those who supported me throughout this journey proud. I'm bringing in great returns on investments. I have a whole career I can go down after a hopefully long term of service. I am doing what I love and am proud as punch of the woman who looks back at me in the mirror. I'm still growing, though, and there's a Mother B's worth of life experience to learn at the Academy, but I know that I have just enough experience now to support my peers and keep moving forward in my goals and aspirations. So, for all of those still traveling this path less traveled: if you wish to serve, never give up the ship. To hell with obstacles and odds. Even if you don't reach the SAs, you will be met with success in other avenues and acquire a treasure trove of experience and memories. Damn every last torpedo, FULL SPEED AHEAD!!!

Damn the torpedoes. What a fight you have in you. Bravo Zulu.