Felipe, Uruguay

“We can afford it papí,” Mama coos and rests her hand on my shoulder before planting a big kiss on my head. “If it is your dream it is no problem.”

I take her hand in mine, but keep my eyes on the computer screen. An offer of acceptance from NYU.

Everything I have worked for, everything I have sweated for, came through and condensed in an email.

It is almost funny.

“It is a lot of money,” I reply, considering my mother’s genoristy. My family work hard, and I do not know if I can accept more of their hard earned money.

“It is money in exchange for the experience,” she tells me, before walking out of my bedroom.

I look at the images of the city and the university again and again, seeing if I can fit myself into the posed photographs of students laughing in corridors, playing on sports teams.

I can. I can.

But I do not know if I can chase this dream.

Annie, California

“At least you got one offer,” Dad grumbles as he leans over my computer screen. I can smell the coffee on his breath, but it is not half as strong as the Machiavellian look in his eye.

“Thank you Dad.”

After several years of partying and scraping by in tests, I am lucky to have one offer.

But my parents do not accept the idea that I do not want to study.

I want to travel and find passion.

They don’t know the meaning of the word.

My home screen ironically is a picture of the Taj Mahal. My dad couldn’t even point out India on a map. Education is king. He did not have one and he thinks I need one.

He actually did pretty well for not having one.

Me, I’d much rather see things than do things.

“You’ll accept it of course, and then we will start looking into accommodation.”

It is not a question.

Regardless, he’s already left the room.

Antoín, Ireland

The whole family is crowded around my computer screen, a hive of activity and bated breaths. Outside is a stark contrast, the sheep in the fields with the mist rollling in do not have a clue.

They have never had to save money, or study for tests.

I can barely contain myself.

An offer!

An offer to go to New York!

“We know you could do it!” Mum cheers and plants a big slobbery kiss on my cheek. Someone slaps my back proudly but I cannot tell who.

The room is way, way too loud.

You’d think it’s the first time an Irishman wanted to go to the states.

“I did it!” I echo, incredulous.

Every exam, every extra hour studying,

Every back shift, every split shift.

It has all paid off.

I am going to New York, and I cannot wait.