Alumni share their BYU admissions success stories.
Faking It ➼ Making It
By McKaye Peterson Meeves (BA ’21), Orem, UT
For generations my family studied, dated, and strolled along BYU’s campus pathways. Our dinner conversations often circled back to stories like the one when my dad first fell for my mom when he saw her in a red sweater on the Tanner Building steps, or how years later, she climbed the Maeser Hill stairs hoping the effort would jump-start labor with me.
Every summer our family embarked on what felt like a pilgrimage to BYU. We’d begin with tours of the Eyring Science Center and the Bean Museum, followed by a stop at the bookstore, where my siblings and I would emerge with new shirts and chocolate-covered cinnamon bears. No visit was complete without a scoop of Graham Canyon ice cream from the Creamery. Some might call it brainwashing; to me, it was a beloved tradition.
As I considered college options, I was all in on BYU. I even made a fake acceptance letter using a friend’s old one and put it on my wall. For two years I looked at that letter daily and imagined the real thing.
When decision day rolled around, I hit “refresh” on my inbox more times than I care to admit. Morning turned to evening. Still nothing. More refreshing until—finally—the email arrived.
I was in.
In a burst of disbelief and joy, I screamed. My family rushed to join me, and together we cried, laughed, and hugged.
BYU had always been part of my story. Now, I finally got to start my own chapter.
A Tall Tale
By Cathy Sherrill Lund (BS ’00), Alpine, UT
When I was a junior in high school, my older brother was perusing the BYU catalog to plan his freshman year classes. Being tall for my age, I noticed a tall boy on the cover, walking with other students between classes on a campus quad. I remarked that if the boys were that tall, I was also going to go to BYU. I applied and was accepted the next year.
During the summer of 1969, I toured the Church’s information tent at the Minnesota State Fair with my husband, Nicholas C. Lund (BA ’69, MBA ’71), and our newborn son. Included in the displays were posters depicting Church history and lifestyles. One caught my eye: a poster of the image from the catalog cover— with the tall boy.
Seeing the image, Nick revealed that he was the boy who had drawn me to BYU. Kismet!
A Unique Testimony
By Rebecca Candland Jacklin (BS ’98), Houston
My ambition had always been to attend BYU. So as I neared completion of my associate’s degree at Ricks College, I began my application for BYU. It required an essay regarding something unique about myself—such as mastering a musical instrument. I felt instantly discouraged. Although I had participated in various extra-curriculars, I believed I was un-exceptional.
As I wrestled with this feeling, an impression came to my mind: write about my testimony. It seemed strange, but then I was given an unfolding understanding of how testimonies are unique. I thought about it more, formulating ways I could write about it. I put the thoughts aside for a time as class assignments were more pressing and I began to doubt that the admission committee would see a testimony as unique. But as the time drew near to submit my application, the impression came again. I knew that it came from the Spirit and began to write the essay. The Spirit is never wrong; I was accepted.
At BYU I had many important experiences. I was an MTC teacher for nearly 90 missionaries going to the Philippines. I volunteered in student services, callings, and an internship. With my degree I became a social worker, and my education also impacted my role as a mother. I “[entered] to learn” and have strived to “go forth to serve.” For that, I am eternally grateful.
The Right Place
By Douglas J. Brunnette (BA ’72, MPA ’74), Kaysville, UT
During my high school senior year in Rochester, Minnesota, I began dating a young woman who was a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. She invited me to her church. I agreed as long as she would accompany me to Catholic mass. When I entered her church for the first time, I felt something extraordinary. I knew I was in the right place. Nevertheless, I attended a Catholic university that fall. While there I felt the impression to transfer to BYU. So, on a whim I applied, uncertain of whether BYU would accept me as a Catholic.
Eventually, a large white envelope arrived at my dorm. To my amazement, I was accepted! I informed my World War II veteran father that I was transferring as we were driving back home following my freshman year. “No, you’re not,” he responded. I held firm.
It was a tough summer as I prepared to travel out West, but my father’s heart softened. He even restored his military footlocker so I could carry my personal belongings to college. I had a touching farewell with my parents.
Following a 1,500-mile journey, I arrived at BYU’s Stover Hall. To my relief, I felt the same reassuring Spirit that I felt when I entered the Latter-day Saint church for the first time back home. I was in the right place. I was baptized a year later and, a year after that, served a full-time mission in Guatemala and El Salvador. Being at BYU made all the difference!
Dialing in from Germany
By Sharon Lloyd Stamps (BA ’04), Justin, TX
I can still feel the chill of the basement and remember my dread as I powered on my host dad’s computer.
The modem slowly croaked to life. Waiting gave me time to reflect. Ten months earlier, I’d been sure I would not be continuing the BYU family tradition. But I hadn’t yet realized the impact spending my senior year as an exchange student in Neumarkt, Germany, would have on me. I’d cried through calculus in German and ridden a 5 a.m. train to seminary. The experience was changing me.
So when my mom mailed me a BYU application, I hesitantly filled it out online. I worried that my spotty seminary attendance and lack of honor society credentials would hold me back. I’d told everyone—including myself—I was applying but not really going to go.
But as I waited in that cold basement for my email to load, I realized I did care. I wanted this. Maybe the family tradition wasn’t such a bad idea. Maybe “Enter to learn, go forth to serve” could be my motto too. It could be a continuation of the journey I’d started here, 5,000 miles away from home.
My host mom peeked in. “Na, und? (Well, and?)”
She looked at my face and knew. “Du hast es geschafft! (You did it!)”
Yes. I did it. And now, 20 years later, I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Call for Stories: Chime In
Did the bells of BYU’s Centennial Carillon Tower mark the hours of your student days? Maybe the chime of “Come, Come, Ye Saints” echoed in your mind, the tower’s glowing lights pulled you in during a late-night bug hunt for biology, or you climbed its heights on a tour—or as a carillonneur. If the bell tower helped set the tone for your BYU experience, please share your story. Deadline: Feb. 2.
Y Magazine pays $50 for stories published in First Person. Send anecdotes of up to 300 words to firstperson@byu.edu. Submissions may be edited for length, grammar, appropriateness, and clarity.
