Olivier's College-hunting advice

How to make an awful process a bit less awful

Here’s how I have been describing the process of getting into the college/university of your choice: You throw a deck of cards skywards and somehow snatch the Ace of Hearts from the air.

• Yep, it’s that bad.

I grew up a higher-ed kid. Every night, over dinner, I heard all about the inner workings of the college that employed my parents.

As an undergraduate, I ran co-ran (sorry Tamara) the student-led part of the Columbia admissions process — enlisting overnight hosts, recruiting and training student tour guides and information session participants. And sometimes firing the underperforming ones. I did alum interviews of applicants to Columbia for three decades.

• I know this process.

When it came time for my son to draw up a list of schools and then slog through the merciless application process, I put my knowledge to work. (Step One was NOT telling him to put Columbia on his list. No need for that kind of pressure.)

• We’ve had a happy ending. He was admitted early decision at his top choice. I’m immensely proud of him and a little vain that I put the school in question on his radar.

• But most of his friends did not get the same joy. And they are a terrifically smart, accomplished bunch. The schools that turned them down are missing out.

If you’re the parent of a rising high school senior, here are some tips for navigating what can truly be a nightmarish process.

The List

As you have probably heard, schools are getting record numbers of applications. There are two big factors here: The Common Application, which makes it easy to apply to many, many schools (assuming you have the money for the application fees) and test-optional admissions, in which your teen doesn’t have to send their SAT scores, making it theoretically easier for the testing-challenged to get into more schools. That seems to be changing back.

The first big step in the process is putting together a list of schools. That list should have “reach” (desirable but difficult to get into) institutions, middle-range schools, and “safeties” where admission is most likely. Be honest with yourselves.

There are many ways to put together a list. Many high schools have online systems that let you search according to various parameters (location, cost, field of study, etc). We had Naviance, which has profiles of basically every institution in the country and tracks how many kids from his school applied, were admitted, and enrolled. (More on Naviance below.) You can also use US News & World Report’s annual rankings. You can search online for specializations, like “best universities for international relations.” YouTube has a ton of independent campus tours. And of course schools have their own websites.

Many high schools have information sessions with visiting college admissions staff. Go! The process of falling in love with Columbia started with the representative who came to Middlebury Union High School. Dyver Moss was his name, IIRC. Bright orange backpack. Blazer/tie but kicked his feet up on the table and said “So, what can I tell you about Columbia?”

• One of the best tools — and I realize this involves quite a bit of privilege, of the $$$ sort — is to visit colleges.

But what people don’t necessarily realize is that you can start by visiting *kinds* of campuses. We did University of Maryland, American, and Georgetown in a weekend. This helped my son figure out how he felt about school size, and what sort of campus appealed to him. How do you feel about an urban campus? A rural one?

The Tour

By now, using the tools I’ve listed, you have a tentative list. Now it’s time to shop for real. (Again, I know there’s a $$$ factor here. If you live in Montana, you can’t just pack up the car and zip down the road to Emory University.)

First, you can’t just waltz into an organized tour. Every single school we looked at requires you to register, and some set limits on how many people you can have in your party. REGISTER MONTHS IN ADVANCE. Spring break in particular fills up quickly.

Second, let me suggest some things to get the most out of your tour.

• Read the campus newspaper(s). Your tour guide is not going to highlight an ongoing controversy over spoiled food or vermin-infested dorms.

• Look at the public spaces, and how they are used. A state-of-the-art student center that is deserted is a bit of a red flag. Are there places to gather and are students gathering there? Do they seem happy?

• Everyone will have their own questions, but the two we found most useful were “have you ever had trouble registering for a required class?” and “have you ever had trouble getting face time with a professor?”

• If you’re lucky enough to know a current student, bribe them with food or coffee to come give you some real talk. We were lucky that we had recent graduates of our son’s high school at a couple of schools. So he was able to ask “did our high school prepare you for this college?” And the son of one of my old Columbia suitemates graciously gave us a tour of his dorm space and came out for breakfast to answer some questions. (My father adds: “How many of your classes are taught by TAs?”)

The Application

Yes, yes, GPA, SATs, activities, volunteerism. But not enough people appreciate that the central purpose of the application is to convince a stranger that the applicant would be a desirable roommate, classmate, member of the campus community, and graduate.

That’s what your essay(s) should do. For the luvva Pete don’t rehash your grades. Show some personality. The best college essay I ever read was by a class president and starting quarterback who wrote about overcoming the nearly crippling anxiety of having a stutter — the fears that gripped him every time he went to the line of scrimmage for the snap count. OK, maybe my son’s was better, but I don’t have his permission to share it here.

• If you have the opportunity to show that you *know* the school, seize it. “Why do you want to go to XXXXX?” is a common question. If you haven’t visited, tell them about classes/clubs you spotted online. If you have, tell them about meeting happy students at the student center (use the center’s name).

The Application, part deux

More and more schools are taking more and more of their incoming class from Early Decision 1, or Early Decision 2. One school my son applied to took about 65% of its incoming class from Early, and took about 12% of those applicants. The admission rate for regular decision came in at about 1.9%.

• Your best shot at your top choice is probably applying early.

This is where your finances come in. Look at schools that offer merit in addition to need-based aid. It’s tough.

Look also at early action (lots of excellent state schools) and rolling (Pitt, which is a great school that is surging in popularity right now, is a great example).

The Recommendations

Early. Ask for these early. Earlier than you think you need to. February of junior year. I know that sounds nuts, but teachers are generally not paid to write these, and good ones take a LONG time. So many teachers set an informal but firm cap on the number they will write in any given year. (My son’s school advised juniors to ask in April/May and I am here to tell you that is spectacularly shitty advice.)

It’s ok to get a coach or some other non-teacher figure to write one (as long as the school allows it). But just one. Because the other should be a teacher who can paint you as a wonderful presence in a class, a dream student.

Naviance and its discontents

You know a really cool way to stress a college applicant even more than they already are? Naviance does!

• You can look up a school and see the number of kids who applied from your high school over the past few years, how many got in, and how many ultimately enrolled. One school atop my son’s list had 5-10 applicants annually. And most years there were zero admits.

• But the true stressor is the scattergram, which plots applicants from your high school on a GPA/SAT score graph, assigning them colors based on whether they got in and how (early, regular, wait list). You can click on an individual applicant and see their GPA/SAT score. The graph also plots YOU on the scattergram.

That’s maybe sorta useful. But you don’t know whether that 4.0/1600 who got rejected was an arrogant little douchenugget who conveyed that in their essay. You don’t know whether that 3.0/1050 admit was a Syrian refugee who overcame staggering odds.

All in all, I found the system useful because of the detailed school profiles. But that scattergram business…yeesh.

The Interview

This ritual appears to be going away. But if you manage to snag one, here are some tips.

• Google your interviewer. Figure out their background. One memorable interviewee mentioned that he was happy to meet the journalist who once told George W. Bush “you can call me Mister Knox.”

• Two days before the interview, send your interviewer a resume. Take out all of the GPA/scores. Emphasize the *human* element. If there’s a particular topic or story you want to be sure you get to, put a prompt near the top that makes that more likely. Under his name, my son listed his interests in and out of the classroom. If you want to get to that time you saved a fellow summer camper’s life, then maybe go with “Aspiring writer. Food pantry volunteer. Speaker of Japanese. Occasional personal floatation device.”

Remember, this person is evaluating “would I want to live with this kid? would I want this kid in my history class?”

In the name of all that’s holy, have the answers to “Why [name of school]?” And “Why do you want to study [notional field of study]?” Make sure you show knowledge of the school. You would not believe the number of students I spoke to over the years who were unaware of the existence of the Core Curriculum at Columbia, arguably the central feature of an undergraduate education there.

• Other chestnuts you should probably prep for: What are you most looking forward to in college? What are you most apprehensive about?

The most simple-yet-diabolical question I have ever heard about was an interviewer for an elite school with a prominent athletic program who asked a small, nerdy young woman “what’s our mascot?” She didn’t know. She should have, but she didn’t. It wrecked the interview.

If you hear “you remind me of me at your age,” congrats, you aced it.

The Fit

Credentialism — going to an elite school because it bestows a certain cachet — is real and understandable. In my tony DC suburb, it registers. I’m not going to say it’s all BS, but what you’re also looking for is a *fit*. Being miserable at Columbia isn’t better than walking on air at University of Maryland. Your mood outside the classroom is bound to affect your grades. Plus you’re 18-21 and should be happy.

Look, I know it’s easy for me to say this. Just promise me you’ll keep “fit” among the top criteria in your search.

GOOD LUCK.

Whether you’re a parent or a teen, this is going to be hard but you’ll get through it. Just remember that there’s a huge element of LUCK at play. Schools cannot have incoming classes that are entirely populated with student-body presidents who were also varsity-sport captains. They’re building a community.

So don’t judge yourself harshly if you don’t get in. And don’t be too braggy if you do.