Personal Narrative-Racial Profiling Process

It is nothing like the rush of applicants first thing in the morning. Filtering through the doors as the clock strikes nine. The process was simple. Registration was held in the cafeteria. Prior to entering you were marked with a quarter-sized sticker, color and number specific to the type of applicant you were. From the doors, starting from the right, pursuing your way around the perimeter of the cafeteria through each stop. Every station was color coordinated and labeled, helping to guide applicants to their correct table. Colors were precisely matched with their sticker so nothing should of went wrong. Multiple advisors were also dispersed throughout the entire space for any further assistance. However, as simple as it seemed all sorts of

Because each applicant needed to be interviewed for necessary qualifications, the process was fairly lengthy. Many began to get frustrated and parents of the applicants began to get impatient as well. Not only was the wait aggravating but the temperature of the room became intolerable. By the time it was your turn you may just be drenched in sweats of fear. However, there was still the ten percent that just strutted their way to the interviewer as if the next seven minutes would just be a light conversation. Whether you were one type or the other the process still proceeded.
The seven minutes started the second you handed over your forms and introduced your name. Your concern at this point was if you had answered the questions accurately. Depending on your response you may have received one of the three type of feedbacks from your interviewer; a nod, a smile, or the continuous head-down-jotting-down-notes face. Sitting across from them, one would just uncomfortably smile back hoping they did not demolished their chances in getting accepted. Until it felt as if one could not sit there any longer, the interviewing process was over. Everything else forward was just a walk in the

The only distinction was that they were interviewed by another set of interviewers. Because the route of their process was located fairly close to those of the tutors’ applicants, several tutee applicants would led themselves towards the wrong table. Though, both applicants needed to get interviewed, however, tutees had a more easing experience. Family members of those who were applying sat around the tables laid out for filling out forms. Most of them seemed uninterested and approached their phones almost immediately for entertainment. The center of the room was just about the quietest section of the entire