Dear Professor X and Charles Xavier School Staff,

Thank you for your incredibly generous offer to join you at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters. Your institution is certainly very special as you kept saying with a soft chuckle and a smile every couple of minutes during my visit.

I am aware of the many benefits the Xavier’s School has to offer a student like me, who just a week ago developed the ability to emanate psionic beams of light that can be changed into everyday objects such as swords, hammers, and even hammocks (for when one needs to catch a teammate, I’m told) out of my limbs. However, after my visit to your impressive facilities in Westchester County, I’m afraid I have decided against attending your school.

It has been my dream to attend Brown University and I don’t think your school, with its new-age curriculum, lack of AP classes, and teachers who look like sexy demons would be conducive to my goals. Also, it’s clearly a front for a paramilitary organization.

If you are interested in recruiting more students of my academic standing to your institution, I have some suggestions.

Faculty members are critical to the college application process. Not only do they prepare students for more advanced classwork and responsibility, but they also write recommendation letters (Brown requires two). During my visit, I grew increasingly wary of the role of the faculty in the school. I understand that private institutions can set their own rules about student-teacher relationships, but I don’t think referring to teachers by their surprisingly sexualized nicknames like “Colossus,” “Gambit,” and “Shadowcat” creates an appropriate learning environment. Ms. Monroe is a great elemental mutant, but she couldn’t explain the cycle of Hydrogen, which is critical foundational knowledge for students who wish to take the AP Biology test. In fact, Professor McCoy is the only instructor in the school with a degree that would certify him as a teacher in the state of New York, and yet students, other faculty members, and even Professor X seem intent on poking fun at his physical appearance by calling him “Beast.”

Furthermore, Brown, like most universities, requires students to earn a diploma. Does anyone ever graduate from your school? I spoke to my peers (?), Scott Summers and Jean Grey, and they both told me they’d been part of the “First Class.” I did some research and that was way back in 1963. Does college prep factor into any of your decisions? Also, when I asked why they were so young, they said they’d been brought to the future by Dr. McCoy in an attempt to rekindle the original spirit of the school? Time travel seems like a thrilling extra-curricular that Brown would find very appealing, but when I asked if there were a club for this kind of thing, I got nothing but blank stares. Any extra-curriculars at all, in addition to not being formalized in any way, seem to be focused on “fighting the forces of evil,” which is cool, but there’s hardly place on your X-Men team for a clarinet player or a Spelling Bee state-champion (me!). Also, you guys definitely have a plane under the basketball court and I didn’t get to ride it once.

There also appears to be no Standardized Test Prep of any kind. When I asked a teacher with a metallic leg who called himself “Forge” about this, he looked far off into the distance and said, “Life will always test you, kid. A family is who you can go back to when you don’t know the answer.” First of all, what? And second of all, Brown demands that I know the answer! Even just a class that teaches me how to make sure I don’t accidentally set off my laser arms during the SAT would be better than nothing.

I will admit I was impressed by the facilities in the school. The campus is beautiful and you can barely see the gigantic robot Sentinels guarding the school grounds. And while I was amazed by the VR capabilities of the so-called “Danger Room” (I really felt like I was fighting “Magneto,” aka Magnus, aka Mr. Lehnsherr, using the aforementioned beams of light that emanate out of my limbs!), I have to question the administrative decision to spend that much money on what is effectively a glorified gym class. I am not the most athletic of students and will not be pursuing a sports scholarship at Brown.

Finally, the uniforms are just not my thing. (Brown does not require them) I really not a fan of form-fitting anything. I guess I’m just a public school kinda kid.

In short, I have decided I will not be attending Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters. My school counselor (do you even have one of those?) said learning to use my power on my own will be a great topic for my college essay.

I will say, despite all its failings the school is surprisingly compliant with the Americans with Disabilities Act so kudos for that.

Thank you,
Emilio Clarke a.k.a. Laser Arms???