It’s the middle of the night here in Paskivka, a tiny village in Poltava region where the number of goats exceeds the actual human population, but I am far from falling asleep. I am trying to come up with a reasonable answer to the “Why are you applying to our school” question to simultaneously show my commitment and still seem cool about it. It seems impossible to explain in under 100 words why I have been dreaming about the acceptance letter for the past two years. My desk is covered with SAT study guides, essay drafts labeled “trash” and cheesy inspirational quotes that supposedly should motivate me to tackle the deadlines. My friends believe I joined some kind of a cult, my parents think I’m going crazy, and unfed goats have just declared the silent treatment.