I've been meaning to talk about how to prepare for a college interview for some time. And this morning's New York Times has an article on this topic–or at least how the affluent prepare for them (by hiring extremely high priced tutors). It begins with a vignette about a consulting session where students learn how to dress for the college interview. It raises some important questions about equity in college admissions–and (in my mind) the question whether people get anything like what they pay for.
One of the things I love about the article is the reference to the website applywise, which the Times likens to turbotax for college applications. I sure love turbotax, so this is the sort of thing that's probably for
me. Couple of things to think about here–I visited the applywise website and was surprised, though perhaps I shouldn't, at how many of their models look like people my age — that is, parents of high school students — rather than the students themselves. But, hey, they're marketing to parents. Second, I guess applywise is for the rest of us who can only afford a
couple hundred dollars for a computer program, rather than intensive in
person consulting. And their demonstration makes it look like something that helps students and parents get organized. Finally (and a little off-topic for this post), we need to talk about computer aided instruction for first year law classes at some point.
One of these days I'll get to that post–with some more modest suggestions about how to prepare (like think through why you want to go to a particular college, what you might contribute to it, what classes you've enjoyed in school–including maybe a few lines on each of your recent classes and what you've read recently; what your career goals might be).
The picture is of Guilford College in Greensboro.
The best advice (for parents) that I heard during the college admissions season last year came from the Dean of Admissions at Smith College, who spoke to the parents at my daughter's high school. Two of her most memorable lines:
— "The sticker on your car? It's not your grade as a parent."
— "Your job is to be the secretary of the college search." (I.e. the person who files the forms, keeps the CEO (your kid) organized, makes travel arrangements, and generally keeps things organized, but your kid directs the process. They're going to college, not you.)
I really became convinced last year that the most important thing a somewhat type A academic parent can do is to back off. The sorts of consultation discussed in the NY Times piece are really for anxious parents who would do better getting a hobby of their own, and letting their kids take responsibility for this major step in their lives.
I did make it clear to my daughter that I would not pay tuition to just anyplace (e.g. some schools are better suited to kids in the arts than a kid who might want to apply to grad school one day), and I also tried to supplement the info she was getting from her high school counselor with other good schools outside the Northeast corridor where most of her friends were applying. Otherwise my principal job was to be the keeper of the calendar — something many kids really need in this age of multiple takes of SATs and SAT IIs, too many supplements to the Common App, etc. If it was someone else's job to keep an eye on the overall schedule, my kid only had to worry about what had to be completed that week — not that final huge end-of-the-year deadline. If you're not able to help your kid with this (high school juniors and seniors are teenagers, after all, and some will simply not let you help them — this is not family disfunction, but perhaps a necessary stage of development), this is outside help worth having: help with scheduling and time management, turning one huge deadline in to many smaller ones. But it could come from an uncle, aunt or older sibling, rather an expensive consultant.
On the sorts of things discussed in the NY Times piece, e.g. an interview wardrobe, I did my best not to say anything when my daughter dressed in her usual retro (aka used clothing store) style. A school uncomfortable with her lack of ironing was not a school she was going to be happy at. The only input I'd have on your kid's wardrobe is whether it needs to go in the wash.
At the end of the day in my household, the applications were all in on time, and everyone in the family was still speaking with each other. And she's ended up with a college that we all think is a perfect fit.