Applicants that went WAY too far!

<p>Here is an excerpt from a book called Getting In by Bill Paul:</p>

<p>"[A] Wesleyan hopeful sent in a six-foot Raggedy Ann doll with a tape recording of the applicant's essay read in a doll's voice. When the admissions staff considered this applicant, one member suggested that the doll be cremated and its ashes sent back to the applicant. Cooler heads prevailed, and the doll was unceremoniously tossed in the garbage."</p>

<p>That made me laugh out loud. Anyone else have a story of someone who really went too overboard with their applications? </p>

<p>(Too bad they just threw the doll away, they should have given it to an orphanage or something, but then again if a six foot tall doll fell on top of a small child it'd probably seriously hurt them)</p>

<p>A student's parent sent notebooks filled with information about the student. Like a scrapbook, I guess, but in binder form. And not just one notebook--more like a half-dozen.</p>

<p>where in the world was this life-size raggedy ann doll purchased?</p>

<p>should have opted for life-size barbie instead. hate to see devoted applicants make those mistakes.</p>

<p>
[quote]
where in the world was this life-size raggedy ann doll purchased?</p>

<p>should have opted for life-size barbie instead. hate to see those mistakes.

[/quote]
</p>

<p>lol, probably custom-made, and hired a professional voice actor/actress to record the voice.</p>

<p>hahah..... god have mercy</p>

<p>professional voice actor.... i bet he tossed in a 'no batteries included' at the end by way of instinct.</p>

<p>Too bad it didn't say if this person got in though, but it doesn't sound like that did. It probably cost a lot to have it made, recorded, and shipped.</p>

<p>I'm pretty sure someone on this forum (you can search for the thread) sent in a song like "Why on want to go to Brown" to the admissions office. It actually sounded pretty professional but I never found out if he got in.</p>

<p>well you have to give him credit for being creative, LOL</p>

<p>*College admissions are a gamble by any account, and applicants want to stack the deck as much in their favor as possible. </p>

<p>Most of us are content with beefing up our already BS-laden resumes (FYI: every admissions officer in the country knows perfectly well what "founding a space club," "going to Sumatra to rescue an indigenous tribe" or "being president of the student council" during your senior year really means). But desperate times call for desperate measures. With Yale's admissions rate an absurdly low 9.9 percent, some students feel forced to stoop to equally absurd levels to get that coveted thick envelope. Yale Dean of Admissions Richard Shaw's personal favorite: The student who sent in a full-size, hand crafted, perfectly finished kayak with his application.</p>

<p>"It was very impressive -- but it's not something I'd encourage other applicants to do," he said. "Who has room in their office for a kayak?"</p>

<p>Other equally dogged students take metaphorical approaches: "I got a box full of helium balloons once," Shaw said. "I think the idea was that I'd open the box, and the balloons would fly up as a sign of how excited this kid was to be applying to Yale." Alas, by the time they reached New Haven, the balloons were too deflated to float.</p>

<p>And as for the kayak, Shaw said, three months of stubbed toes and arguments over who got to keep the vessel finally prompted the admissions staff to mail the whole thing back. Shaw's tip for future applicants: "If it's something near and dear to your heart, send us a slide."</p>

<p>Another piece of advice, this one for budding Julia Child wannabes: Presuming that the admissions officers are fickle enough to be swayed by an appeal to their sweet tooth isn't as original as you might think. "I don't even know how many cakes and cupcakes we've gotten mailed to us," he said. "Of course, by the time they get to our office, they're completely stale and don't taste that great anyway."</p>

<p>But in the end, it is easy to criticize from this side of Phelps Gate. Now distanced from the anxiety of trying to convince this prestigious Ivy that you're a perfect match for it, we find it hard to remember that we were all equally willing to do whatever might give us "that extra edge." Because, really, how far is mailing out cookies or kayaks from spending all of your free time taking practice SATs or having your mom proofread your "defining moment" essay seven times?</p>

<p>And Shaw's post-mortem on the applicant who spent $50 on postage to mail his kayak to 38 Hillhouse Ave.: "One had the impression that he might really want to go here." </p>

<p>Might? </p>

<p>"Frankly, the kayak wasn't something we took into account." Oops.*</p>

<p><a href="http://www.yaledailynews.com/article.asp?AID=27431%5B/url%5D"&gt;http://www.yaledailynews.com/article.asp?AID=27431&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p>