American History 1988
Chapter 95 - 89 Stanford

Chapter 95: Chapter 89 Stanford

Dean pushed open the half-closed door and was greeted by a square, white room. A floor-to-ceiling window took up most of the southern wall, with a single bed on each side pressed against the wall.

In between, there was a fairly wide aisle, but at the moment, it was mostly filled by a large, long writing desk. It was clear that the desk was shared between the two beds, as Dean could see some backpacks, magazines, and other assorted daily necessities on it.

Besides that, there were two chairs in the room, as well as a three-person sofa against the wall—this was Dean’s new freshman dorm at Stanford University.

As he stood at the door surveying his surroundings, the tall white young man lying on one of the single beds finally noticed the guest at the door.

"Hey, if I’m not mistaken, you must be Dean Price?" the white young man took off his headphones, casually moving his Sony Walkman to the side.

"Marcus White?" Dean put his luggage down and walked over to bump fists with him.

"Yes, that’s right. We’re going to be roommates for the next few years. But to avoid unnecessary misunderstandings in the future, I feel I need to disclose my hobbies." Marcus turned and picked up a magazine from the bed, pointing to the bare lady on the cover. "I like this kind. It’s only in front of them that I feel the urge to clear the tadpoles."

"Oh, nice, ’Shaved’ collectors edition, issue 168. Before I came here, I gave it to my cousin. But honestly, the cover girl’s seafood is impressive. She got me through countless hormone-filled nights during my high school years."

"Good!" Marcus exclaimed as if he had found a kindred spirit, his voice growing excited. "Dean, I have a feeling that we’ll have plenty to talk about in our college life. Let me introduce myself again, Marcus White from Worcester, Massachusetts."

"Dean Price from Youngstown, Ohio." Dean took out two cans of Budweiser from his backpack and tossed one to Marcus across the way.

"Shit! You actually have beer?!" Marcus didn’t hesitate to pop the tab and chug it down, "Ha, California sunshine and beer—that’s the vacation vibe. But they don’t sell alcohol anywhere on the Stanford campus. Dean, where did you get this from?"

After clinking cans with him, Dean boasted, "I picked it up in Columbus on the way here. Budweiser has a factory there, and they even host large celebrations like a beer festival every year. So you know, even kids can get their hands on beer in the summer."

"Damn, I’m kind of jealous now. Worcester just has toys, blankets, and other boring stuff." Marcus shook his keychain, which had a Mickey Mouse doll hanging from it.

"Careful, Disney might come asking for royalties," Dean chuckled, enjoying the circumstance. It was clear this was a handcrafted piece by Marcus.

"Mother F*cker, if they dare, I’ll shove this thing up their back door," Marcus vowed viciously, pinching his Mickey.

"Whoa, not a bad way to return the favor." Dean set the beer bottle on the desk and then started to sort through his luggage. "By the way, Marcus, I almost forgot to mention, I’m a transfer student from Cleveland State University. Computer Science major—to be more precise, a sophomore once my foundational credits transfer."

"Wait a sec! You mean you transferred here?" it was as if Marcus had discovered a new continent, and he tossed his collectors’ magazine aside.

"Yes, as you see, I joined in at the last minute," Dean said with self-deprecating shrug, then resumed setting up his new IBM computer.

"Wow, if I’m not mistaken, Dean, you must be a real studious guy!" Marcus suddenly got excited.

"Why would you say that?" Dean looked up at him curiously.

"Come on, this is Stanford! Sure, it’s not as well-known as Harvard, but it’s also among the elite few in America. Dean, do you know how high the retention rate for the TOP 10 schools is? On average, it’s above 97.5%!"

"What does that have to do with me transferring?" Dean still didn’t understand why Marcus was so excited.

"Dean, you’re into ’Shaved,’ so you’re clearly not a nerd. But..." Marcus spread his hands, unsure how to explain, "but did you not research Stanford’s retention rate before transferring?"

Dean shook his head innocently; he had charged in headfirst.

"OK, different question, what was your GPA when you applied for transfer?"

"3.9~"

"Shit! Dean, you should’ve applied to Harvard, Yale, MIT, or Princeton!" Marcus held his head in his hands, feeling regret for Dean.

Despite being a top private university in America, Stanford barely squeezed into the top five overall rankings and more often oscillated between 6th and 10th place. The top three spots were still held by the old-guard schools on the East Coast, and Stanford would only become world-famous in a few years with the boost from the internet wave.

Marcus himself was from Massachusetts, where MIT is located, and his first dream school was MIT, albeit, unfortunately, he was rejected.

Now, hearing Dean unleash a GPA nearly a perfect 4.0, Marcus couldn’t understand why he would choose a generally excellent university like Stanford.

"I think Stanford’s computer science program suits me," Dean explained earnestly, which was indeed one of the reasons he chose Stanford.

"Boston also has computer science programs!" The renowned MIT had been leading America’s technological forefront for the past few decades, and that certainly included computer technology.

"Well, that’s your choice, Dean." Marcus felt sorry for Dean, but he knew that everyone had different interests.

"Let’s get back to our previous topic, Dean." Marcus decided to give him a primer on the transfer admission mechanism, "Student retention rates, which refer to the percentage of students (especially freshmen) returning each year.

Some students, after a year of study, may find that the major at their school doesn’t suit them, so they transfer out. The spots these non-returning students leave behind become the openings for transfer students.

In other words, the higher the student retention rate of a school, the fiercer the competition for transfer applications will be, and typically, the acceptance rate is very low.

Take Harvard, Yale, and our own Stanford, for example; their student retention rates are consistently above 97.5%. This means that the acceptance rate for transfers at these schools is generally below 2.5%, far lower than the roughly 5% acceptance rate for freshmen."

"Wow, it sounds like I’ve accomplished something quite remarkable?" Dean had not realized that when he transferred, he was up against such intense competition.

"Remarkable is an understatement!" Marcus said excitedly, pointing at him to emphasize, "In fact, Stanford’s retention rate is way above 97.5%, especially in computer science, which is at 98.2%!

Dean, you passed through Stanford University’s ultra-low acceptance rate of 1.8%! I heard that Stanford admitted fewer than 30 transfer students this year, out of more than two thousand applicants.

You, Dean, are one of those 30! And you should be grateful that you applied for a transfer to Stanford this year, otherwise even a GPA of 3.9 wouldn’t have helped you."

"Why?" Just now, Marcus was grumbling about his own GPA, so why the sudden change of heart?

"Because starting next year, Stanford will no longer offer a transfer application option. You know, there are just too many applicants and the school doesn’t have the available spots," Marcus shrugged, giving Dean an unexpected response.

Well, if that’s the case, even a high GPA wouldn’t have helped Dean.

"To celebrate that our dorm has welcomed a super-brainy student, I’ve decided to take you to a freshman party tonight to have some fun. If we’re lucky, maybe you can clear out your tadpoles there~" Marcus winked at Dean, because what’s a party without blonde beauties?

"Cool~ A thrilling party during freshman orientation week?" Dean’s arrival at Stanford was on September 20th, and September 21st was the official move-in day for freshmen.

In the following days, the school would organize a freshman activity week, likely starting with lectures by renowned professors, mainly introducing future study content, academic writing, and so on.

Of course, this also included many social activities that freshmen looked forward to, such as welcome parties and BBQs, which young people enjoy.

But Marcus scoffed at the freshman orientation week Dean mentioned, "Come on, Dean, do you expect a party organized by the school to be exciting? Sitting around playing dominoes? Or taking turns introducing oneself under the ’encouragement’ of the teacher?

Dean, I promise you won’t find a single girl dressed in cool outfits there. The party I’m talking about, that’s obviously the wild kind~"

Dean instantly got Marcus’s point, "So, do we need to prepare anything? Are these parties from fraternity events?"

If it was a fraternity-hosted party, Dean and his friends might not be able to get in. Usually, this implied certain thresholds, like having someone from the inside to vouch for you, or being a potential newbie who’s caught the eye of the fraternity and got an invite.

Clearly, Dean didn’t fit any of these criteria. He didn’t know anyone from the fraternities at Stanford, nor was he a freshman.

Faced with his puzzled look, Marcus shook his head mysteriously. "No, fraternity recruitment parties generally happen after the freshmen have moved in. This is just a small private gathering, and of course, it will attract some new girls too.

You know, Dean, students who have just stepped into Stanford, regardless of gender, are eager for social activities. This is why so many are keen on joining fraternities and sororities. During this period at the start of the school year, they won’t miss any chance to attend parties."

"So you guys are using the pretext of providing social support for the freshmen to lure in those boys and girls who are full of fantasies? Oh~, especially the girls who’ve just graduated from high school, they are the easiest to hook up with."

Marcus was dumbstruck by his new roommate speaking so candidly, "Dean, you’re not a bookworm at all! I was almost conned by you! Tell me, how many girls have you scored with?!"

"I think we should focus more on tonight’s party, it’s more meaningful~" Dean didn’t want to shatter Marcus’s fragile ego.

"Ah, speaking of the party, you have to promise me one condition. Otherwise, I will definitely warn those girls to stay away from you tonight." Marcus crossed his arms and threatened.

"Hmm~" Dean gestured for him to continue.

"From now on, you’re in charge of those super-tough, highly difficult projects assigned by the professor. Of course, to show respect for knowledge, you’re now the boss of our dorm! How’s that sound, BOSS?"