The
Search for Authenticity
A
leading admissions dean explains what colleges really want. It's all about
getting the complete picture of a student without packaging by consultants.
By Bruce Poch
NEWSWEEK
Updated: 3:25 PM ET Aug 15, 2007
A tale circulating among my colleagues at other colleges
tells of a student's taking a rather literal approach to these application
instructions: "Ask yourself a question and give us the answer." The
student wrote: "Do you play the tuba?" The answer: "No." In
the anecdote, some of the admissions officers were irritated by the cryptic
reply; others praised it as uniquely revealing. It certainly meshed with
teacher recommendations, which described the student as a bright risk-taker who
didn't worship at the altar of grades.
Colleagues who hear the story and who think the student's
essay was smart, sassy and fun aren't surprised to learn he was accepted at a
top school. But that same essay could have produced different results. If the
teacher letters had described a pest who questioned authority just for the sake
of questioning, or if he had poor grades or scores, he could've been read as a
smart aleck. The integrity of the application would have dissolved.
Although it may seem mysterious, the admissions process
is actually straightforward. It's about finding relationships that will work,
just like dating and marriage. In this case, admissions officers are the
matchmakers, looking for clues to prospective partners before committing.
Perfect behavior on a first date (perhaps an interview or application papers)
may lead to a second chance, but ultimately the real person is revealed, and
that revelation indicates whether a happily-ever-after experience lies ahead.
Corey Brettschneider is a good example. When I met him at
a college fair, he was clever and witty, but self-deprecating about his record.
He became one of my favorite applicants that year. His record wasn't
compelling, but his faculty references were impressive, and they were specific
in their praise. The narrative of the application presented a growing, natural
scholar. He was funny, and people were drawn to him, but there was more than
charisma. He could make a remark that cut through all the noise of a
discussion. He presented himself with no affectations. We could detect this
because instead of handlers, he had a powerful cheering section of teachers and
an interviewer persuaded by a very stimulating conversation. For the record, he
was admitted and became an academic star. After earning a master's at
Cambridge, a doctorate from Princeton and a law degree from Stanford, he became
a tenured professor at Brown.
I worry that we as admissions officers may have
unintentionally transmitted incorrect messages about what we hope to see.
Students become supplicants, not applicants, doing the right things for the
wrong reasons. When colleges began to mention social awareness to their
students, some high schools made community service a requirement. A new
industry was born to carry students to distant places for community service,
presumably while learning another language or culture, although similar experiences
might have been found at home. Admissions officers then had a new quandary:
distinguishing a desire to serve from love of travel.
We've had to become personality detectives because so
many students, like presidential candidates, seem to work under the management
of handlers. Perhaps it's their parents who help to initially develop the
college list. Then, a tutor works on test preparation while a consultant
concocts the "perfect" extracurricular résumé. How do we sort out the
genuine student from the image essentially manufactured for admissions
purposes? It is a process that is part critical reading, part common sense and
part intuition. We look for subplots and unexpected twists. Stories in
applications told from multiple points of view (the student, the ACT or
Packaging the application doesn't result in the success
one might expect. The odds are small of guessing exactly right about what any
individual admissions office wants. Colleges seek students who have a learning
style compatible with their ways of teaching. Personalities, both the
candidate's and the reader's, also come into play. The admissions officer's
job—to evaluate talents, background and skills in the context of what was
available to a student—is subjective. Who we are and where we work does affect
what we see. We trust our intuition, along with data.
Our job is to make sure the students who attend our
institutions are really who they appear to be, and that they will give and take
something of value in the college's educational environment. What we ask for in
an application may seem like a lot, but students should know that we're acting
in their best interests. In our hunt for the authentic, we are, after all,
creating the academic and social environment that will shape the rest of their
lives.
URL: http://www.newsweek.com/id/32267
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