The emotional rollercoaster of reading season
Wednesday, February 15th, 2006Contributed by: Heather O’Neill
Associate Director of Admissions, Vanderbilt University
As the ball drops in Times Square and Dick Clark yells out “Happy New Year!” I smile and exchange kisses and high-fives with my friends, but inevitably I feel a tiny hint of dread invade my otherwise joyful heart. The turn of the new year brings me that much closer to January 3, Vanderbilt’s deadline for freshman application submission, and the awareness that reading season will soon be in full swing again. Though I have yet to experience childbirth, I imagine that it’s something like the application review process — the ultimate outcome (a new baby, a freshman class) is so captivating, so exciting that you immediately forget about all the pain involved in producing it and vow to do it again as soon as possible.
The pain associated with the application review process stems from the fact that all of us in admissions love working with high school students. We enjoy getting to know them during such a turning point in their lives, guiding them in making what is, for many of them, the first major adult decision of their lives, and reveling in all the possibilities for what their lives will become (a veterinarian who plays jazz trombone on the weekends, designs uniforms for the New York Knicks, and builds and flies her own plane — why not!). Unfortunately, the reality of our job is that we must deny admission to a large number of these wonderful human beings who have let us into their lives during the past year. At Vanderbilt this year, we will likely turn down two-thirds of the students who have applied for admission. Most of these students have compiled records that would make them successful students at Vanderbilt and certainly records that we would be immensely proud of, were they our sons and daughters. There simply is not room to admit them all, and therein lies the pain.
The review process begins in earnest each January and continues until we mail out all Regular Decision notifications at the end of March. Each fall Early Decision serves as our practice round, a time for new and experienced readers to warm up and calibrate together. Early Decision applications constitute roughly 10 percent of our total number of applications at Vanderbilt, so the Early Decision review is a mere sprint in advance of the marathon ahead at Regular Decision. From January through March, we will spend most evenings and weekends reading applications, a sacrifice that most of our family and friends cannot understand. Fortunately, we have our colleagues with whom we can share stories about obscene essays or odd teacher recommendations or students who insist on spelling Vanderbilt as Vanderbuilt, despite the fact that the name of the school is printed all over the application.
The occasional malapropism or humorous extracurricular activity (my all-time favorite is the student who founded the Big Eaters Club so that stressed out students could pig out together one night each week at an all-you-can-eat buffet) helps me to keep a sense of perspective on the application review process. It is tempting to imbue our process with too much authority, relying on it to separate the wheat from the chaff, when, at best, it is just one set of values and priorities imposed to create order out of the chaos. I like to think that our holistic review is superior to a process that admits students simply by their test scores, but who is to say which is more fair? We approach each file as a puzzle, attempting to fit all of the pieces together into a cohesive whole that will give us the complete picture of the applicant. We look at the student’s grades and curriculum to see if he or she is taking the most challenging courses available and what those grades mean relative to his or her peers’ performance. We compare the grades and curriculum to the student’s testing to see if he or she is under or over achieving in the classroom and we incorporate the letters of recommendation to bring life to the numbers, to understand how each student learns and participates in the classroom. The letters of recommendation frequently help us to understand what kind of community citizen the student has been at his or her school and what his or her involvement has meant to the school. We read the essays to hear the students’ voice and perspective and to gain insight into the person behind the grades and scores. Ideally the disparate pieces will come together to form a complete picture of the student’s time in high school, explaining any discrepancies in grades and testing or any blemishes on the transcript, so that we can make a case for admitting the student.
It is easy to read too much into the application and to get too attached to the person we have created in the file or not attached enough when the file comes across as flat or uninteresting. It is difficult to remember that we are making decisions based on the ten or fifteen pieces of paper in each applicant’s folder, that some students have access to experienced college counselors who can help them mold and shape the impression we receive from those ten pieces of paper and that others are left to their own devices. That is why it is essential for us as admissions officers to meet these students once they arrive on campus, to get to know them as three-dimensional people, and to be mindful that those few pieces of paper will never tell the full story. Three years ago we admitted a student whose application I read and thought was fairly average, though the grades and testing warranted admission. He is now one of the most prominent student leaders on campus, a voice of reason and maturity with more intellectual curiosity and a better sense of humor than I ever saw in his application. Another student that we were not able to admit stayed in touch with me during her first year of college, at first because she was interested in transferring to Vanderbilt and later to let me know she had decided to stay with her current school. Her life was none the worse for not attending Vanderbilt. We do the best we can to balance students’ welfare with institutional priorities and it is painful for us to fight for a student’s admission and lose, but by connecting with current students, we can put our review process in perspective and remember why the pain is worth it.
Contributed by: Ross Lenhart