lesleymfa

No Blueprint by Ali Rajabi

This is a story I never planned to write, because for a long time, I didn’t think it could happen. It’s about a path that wasn’t supposed to exist. About systems, exceptions, and the power of believing in what you want, even when you're told you don’t need it, or worse, that it’s not possible. It’s not just my story. It belongs to anyone who’s ever stood before a closed door, feeling the weight of uncertainty, Yet still wondering what might happen if they knock.

I always loved the idea of being in a university, not for the degree or the title, but for the feeling. The space, the energy and the sense of community. But in Iran, that dream came with the national entrance exam. It was the gatekeeper to higher education. You had to compete with hundreds of thousands of others, which might seem fair, but it meant memorizing things that didn’t matter to you, attending extra classes just to pass the test, and conforming to a system that felt like nonsense, to ME at least. Right or wrong, that wasn’t for me, and it didn’t align with how I learn or who I am. My mother, like many, wanted me to go and I loved her for it. But I couldn’t force myself to follow a path that didn’t feel true. So I chose another way, a road I had to build myself. By nineteen, I’d opened a computer shop with a friend. So many lessons. By twenty-one, I was finding my way in the digital world, teaching, experimenting, and building what would later become my path.

Building a life on instinct, curiosity, risk, and self-trust. I had no academic degree, just experience and a hunger to learn on my own terms. I became self-taught. That became my identity. Years later, after moving to the U.S., I kept going. I built relationships, worked on major projects, collaborated with international brands. I grew, evolved, and stayed open to learning.

Still, something whispered: University.

Not for validation, but because I wanted to experience the American academic world, intellectually, artistically and socially. I had already built a life of learning and teaching on my own, so starting from a bachelor’s didn’t feel like the right path for me. What I truly hoped for was the chance to join a master’s program, a space that could challenge me at the level I was already working. Although there was one problem: I didn’t have a bachelor’s degree. Not from Iran. Not from the U.S., and every application said the same thing: No bachelor, No entry. In 2023, I turned to someone I deeply trust, my beloved friend Shirin. She had graduated from Lesley University with a degree in Design and Photography.

I asked her, “Do you think there’s any way I could be considered for a master’s degree?”

Without hesitation, she reached out to the head of Lesley’s photography program, Christine, who had always been so kind. She responded with care and kindness, and then introduced me to the head of the MFA in Visual Arts. They invited me to attend their January 2024 MFA residency as a guest. No promises. Just ten days to be present, sharing work, listening, engaging with students and faculty. And honestly, it felt like home. But halfway through, the MFA program head resigned. Suddenly, the path ahead was unclear.

Still, I finished the residency, hopeful. I didn’t know if it would lead anywhere, but I believed in making my own chances. So we decided to try one more thing, reaching out to the Vice Provost for Art + Design, Heather Shaw. I sent her my résumé and my story. Heather didn’t know me. We hadn’t spoken. But she didn’t stop at a polite thank-you. She said, “Let’s try.” And that, to me, is the definition of a decent human being, someone who believes in potential before protocol.

She had every reason to say, “Sorry, we can’t accept someone without a bachelor’s.” But she didn’t. Instead, she began exploring how it could be done. Rather than hearing “no,” she asked “how.” Heather brought a proposed change to Lesley’s MFA acceptance policy before the Academic Advisory Committee. The proposal added that, in exceptional circumstances, life experience could be considered as part of the application for the MFA program, based on evidence of experience and a portfolio of work. She gathered voices, drafted the proposal, and presented it through the faculty governance process. The committee discussed it, voted, and the proposal was approved, with a Yes.

Something once impossible was made possible.

Heather believed this wasn’t just about me. It was about all the others who might be ready for a chance too, because not all paths have to look the same.

Now I’m the first student accepted into Lesley’s MFA Visual Arts program without a bachelor’s degree. What I feel isn’t pride. It’s responsibility. I carry this story, not as pressure, but as purpose. I’m not here to prove anything. I’m here to honor the trust I was given.

To be a reminder of something I always say: Make your own chance.

In all the past years, I always asked the same question again and again, Did we do things alone? Never. There are always people around us who are helping, lifting, and paving the way, your family, your friends, your colleagues, and even people who don’t know us but are kind enough to help another. And when it’s our turn, we must do the same. My story might not work for everyone. But it’s proof that sometimes, all it takes is asking, showing up, believing, and staying consistent, while being aware that there is no blueprint.

And when someone tells you, “This is not possible,” or “You don’t need this,” ask yourself:
Do I really want it? Because that’s where it begins.

MAKE YOUR OWN CHANCE.