(And The One I’m Still Waiting For)
Posted in: JET Journey
Photo by Pema G. Lama on Unsplash
I got my JET results.
I’ve been sitting with how to write this post for a little while now, trying to find the right words for something that doesn’t fit neatly into either a celebration or a disappointment. Because the truth is, it’s neither. And it’s both. And it’s something I don’t think I had a word for until I lived it.
I got alternate.
What That Actually Means
For anyone unfamiliar with how the JET Program works, alternate isn’t a rejection. It’s not a yes either. It’s a maybe, sitting right in the middle, asking you to keep hoping without any promises.
Alternates are real candidates. People move up from alternate to accepted every single cycle. It happens. It’s not a consolation prize. It’s a genuine position on a very real waitlist for something I very genuinely want.
I know all of that. I knew it the moment I read the email.
And I was still really, really upset.
The Part Where I’m Honest
I cried. I questioned everything. I replayed the interview in my head, looking for the moment something went wrong. I asked myself why I wasn’t good enough, which is a question I already know isn’t fair or accurate but felt impossible not to ask anyway.
That’s the thing about alternate that’s almost harder than rejection — rejection gives you a closed door. Alternate gives you a door that’s slightly ajar, and you just have to stand there and wait and wonder and hope and try not to go crazy in the meantime.
It felt worse than rejection to me in some ways. At least rejection lets you grieve and move on. Alternate puts you right back in purgatory — except this time you know exactly what you’re waiting for and exactly how much you want it.
My family breathed a huge sigh of relief when I told them. Mine was heavy.
The Part Where Things Shifted
A day after the news, I went to a cultural festival with some friends. I didn’t go to process anything or find meaning in it — I just went because I needed to be somewhere that wasn’t my own head for a while.
And somewhere between the food and the music and the people I love, something quietly settled.
This is not a no. This is a maybe. And maybe is something.
I came home feeling something I can only describe as empty but hopeful — which sounds contradictory but feels exactly right. My heart is still heavy with wanting something I don’t have yet. But it’s not closed. It’s just waiting.
What I’m Doing In The Meantime
Here’s the thing about being lost in limbo — you can either sit down and wait or you can keep moving. I’m choosing to keep moving.
My PhD program is in order. My classes are ready to go. If the alternate email never comes, I have a path forward that I’m genuinely excited about — researching how the Japanese language shapes identity and expression in popular culture, which is really just a fancy way of saying my InuYasha spiral found its way into academia.
But I’m still checking my email. Every day. With that particular kind of hope that feels equal parts wonderful and exhausting.
Both futures are real. Both futures are good. My heart just has a preference.
So Here We Are. Again.
Lost in the best possible way, once again.
Because what else can you do but stay hopeful? What else can you do but keep learning the language, keep writing the blog, keep showing up for the life you’re building regardless of which door opens next?
That’s where I am right now. Classes ready. Heart open. Inbox monitored.
Waiting, again, but differently this time — with a little more wisdom and a little less panic and the same stubborn hope that got me here in the first place.
If you’re an alternate too — hi. I see you. Pull up a chair. We’re in this together, again. 🤞
— Katherine, somewhere in Arkansas, hoping for an email 🌸
Lost in Translation 