What I’m saying is that it’s absolutely possible to be college material, to be the kind of kid that a school wants, and still be shy. Outspokenness in and of itself isn’t what makes a kid college material, it simply makes it easier to find those other qualitiies.
And that many teachers, myself included, are perfectly capable of finding those qualities in other ways, and of writing a letter that conveys that.
Let me tell you about Sheila. Sheila was QUIET. As in, never ever raised her hand. I wouldn’t have known that she had a voice, except for the fact that she came to Precalculus extra help just about every day, usually in her soccer uniform. That’s where I saw her sense of humor, her determination, all the things that I could have used in a letter of recommendation.
Twenty two years after she died on TWA Flight 800, I’m still thankful that Sheila was so bad at math, because that’s where I was able to see past the shyness to the person she was. I’m sure she would have been positive that she was too shy to ask me for a letter, thinking that I couldn’t write one that spoke to her strengths, but she would have been wrong. I remember her so fondly, mostly for the Sheila that I saw in extra help as opposed to the one I saw in class.
A brag sheet-- for any kid-- simply makes it easier for me to fill in the dots. It reminds me of the stuff that’s not n my grade book, of the things that I knew the year I taught you. It reminds me of the things that make you different from other kids with the exact same statistics as you. And it helps me to remember the things I’ve heard you mention, the things that I might have forgotten. I deal with over 200 kids per day, in addition to the ones I see in the cafeteria or in my study hall or in extra curricular. That brag sheet helps me remember the things about you that aren’t in the forefront of my mind when I hear your name.
It’s the college app equivalent of a wedding or baby registry.