College Presidents Tackle Their Own Admission Essays!

[southerncali]

<p>lspf72 lol. i second that^</p>

[birdhouse]

<p>Wow, these essays seemed so…short. Guess mine was way too long, then…</p>

<p>I thought the Grinnell one was dull. Some of them weren’t personal at all…methinks the Reed one was the one that was the most college-essay-ish.</p>

[CCCiter]

<p>Krislov’s (Oberlin, Nelson Mandela) was kind of ho-hum.
Diver (Reed, Diversity) was interesting… I liked it.
Osgood (Grinnell, Edmund Burke) also kind of dull, but maybe I just don’t like essays on historical figures…
Otoxby (Pomona, Biking) was, though not the best in novelty value, describes his hobby well and shows his connection with Pomona, which is good.
Hill (Vassar, Henry Bruton) I totally did not identify with…
Gutmann (Penn, Autobiography) seemed like a lit of achievements…
Spar (Barnard, Routines) was quirky; I liked it! I’ve always been one for chaos.
Zimmer (UChicago, Live the Question) seemed a bit too impersonal for me, but did have interesting material to think about.
Roth (Wesleyan, Brother) I really liked this one! Good subject and everything.
Oden (Carleton, Lost in Cairo) I actually liked this one, unlike most people. Life lessons are good.</p>

[north_face]

<p>Part of the essay is meant to measure writing ability and style (not to mention maturity). While I feel some of these presidents are better writers than others, they can all write decently, as opposed to many teenage applicants to top schools who definitely (and surprisingly) can’t. Ergo, it’s difficult to measure these essays in comparison to teenagers, but we can at least compare them to their peers and the bar they’re supposed to live up to as presidents of prestigious colleges. Here are my ratings. </p>

<p>Barnard - 8/10</p>

<p>Definitely gives the reader a glimpse into her personality and lifestyle without being boring. Writing is clear and articulate, but not pretentious. For a woman of power, she comes off pretty chill and intelligent. </p>

<p>Carleton - 7/10</p>

<p>Writing style is sort of stilted and professor-like. A decent, interesting essay that’s summed up fairly nicely at the end. Maybe too much telling over showing, even considering the word limit. I feel like it had more potential; the essay idea is nice, but isn’t executed perfectly. Ends up feeling like a “cute story” which is good in its own way. </p>

<p>Grinnell - 6/10</p>

<p>Ha, they’re starting to go downhill. I skimmed through the history because it was so boring. He doesn’t give much insight into how he tries to emulate his historical figure, which if pulled off correctly (without sounding arrogant), is the hardest and most rewarding part of that type of essay (IMO). </p>

<p>Oberlin - 6/10</p>

<p>Suffers from much of what Grinnell’s essay does. Skimmed through a bunch of the history. I understand it has to include some facts and analysis/opinion, but the writer should take into account the interest of the reader. If not, it ends up boring and pretentious. </p>

<p>Pomona - 6.5/10</p>

<p>This guy comes off as a sad old man (“students reminded me of our morning ride…”). TBH, it sounds like he might need some more excitement in his life :P. It’s not bad at all, just could use a little more spice and reflection. I guess it’s just hard to relate to all of these essays because their idea of “plain fun” is very different, since most of them are middle-aged and whatnot. Still could be described to make it sound like more fun. Or describe a little more about why it is. </p>

<p>Reed - 7.5/10</p>

<p>I kind of like this one. It’s engaging, thought-provoking, insightful, and eye-opening to his lifestyle. This isn’t a PC topic to take-on, but he does it well. </p>

<p>Chicago - 6/10</p>

<p>This is a really nice analysis, but isn’t telling to the person. Also boring. </p>

<p>Penn - 5/10</p>

<p>I agree that this is an arrogant essay that’s not too interesting. </p>

<p>Vassar - 6/10</p>

<p>Ditto to Chicago </p>

<p>Wesleyan - 6/10</p>

[lolcats4]

<p>I honestly didn’t feel like the Carleton essay actually had any real life lessons in it…I mean, “life is an adventure” and and what not is kind of cliche…</p>

<p>I though Oxtoby’s was good, although kind of calm and laid back (sort of sounds like Pomona lol). I thought my own essay was better suited to the prompt than his was.</p>

[PlanetaryPrinces]

<p>Ugh! Oxtoby’s was awful and completely unoriginal. I almost feel embarrassed to go to a Claremont College (not really, I love it here!).</p>

[southeasttitan]

<p>My favorites were definitely Reed, Wesleyan and Barnard. It’s hilarious how many of the other essays fall into the same traps that these adcoms warn students about–especially UPenn’s Amy Gutmann. Bleargh.</p>

<p>I would say Wesleyan won, though. The opening paragraph was grabbing, and I loved the use of childlike voice–“That’s my brother. He’s dead.”</p>

[zephyravatar]

<p>Reed was good. Barnard was decent. Wesleyan was decent too.</p>

<p>Really, Reed’s was the only one I enjoyed. It was exciting, but it had a clear message and it was personal. The rest either bored me, tried too hard to convey a deep message, or simply were terrible.</p>

[lolcats4]

<p>

Ugh! Oxtoby’s was awful and completely unoriginal. I almost feel embarrassed to go to a Claremont College (not really, I love it here!).

</p>

<p>haha, I re-read it again, and I actually agree with you. Must have been personal bias blinding me to it previously.</p>

<p>I also liked Reed’s. But I still think Barnard’s was the best.</p>

[JiffsMom]

<p>

@ctyankee

Jiff’s Mom,</p>

<p>Would you please share more about what your Carleton visit was like?

The campus itself is nice - in a small town, natural setting. We all liked that. The students were friendly and helpful. Unfortunately, we were all disappointed in the classes we sat in on. The class discussions were what left us cold. They were stilted and clich</p>

[Lafalum84]

<p>Love the Wesleyan essay - the person who most influenced him was his brother who died before he was born. It was clear from his essay that his family’s & his parents’ experience in dealing with the death of their son had a major influence on his life. Well written, touching, and honest.</p>

<p>Also liked the Barnard essay, maybe because I can relate to it. Honest, funny, self-deprecating and well-written.</p>

[galoisien]

<p>Barnard > Wesleyan > Reed</p>

<p>Others don’t deserve ranking. Ughhhh.</p>

<p>Reed is barely hanging there. I think he should have explored it with a bit more complexity. I mean, swinging a baseball bat is an experience in diversity? maybe it brings associations and thoughts about it, but …</p>

<p>And none of these essays, except maybe Barnard, I would classify as “flawlessly stunning”. The kind of essays regularly produced by CC forummers here in the essay forum.</p>

[pink001]

<p>I loved Wesleyen’s and Barnard’s, and Reed’s was pretty good too. (okay it feels like we’re all naming the same three, but they really did rock.)</p>

<p>Like most of you, my least favorite was the Penn one. However, when I looked at it again, I kinda realized that it’s not necessarily HER that sucked, it was the PROMPT!</p>

<p>Really, what a terrible essay prompt. I think (if they had to do an essay from their respective schools) that she needs to look at the pretentious/boring/resume-in-essay-form feel of her essay and realize that the essay prompt needs to be changed.</p>

<p>I mean seriously. What the heck would any of us write in response to that prompt? “I did this, I did that, I succeeded in all of my dreams, I realized my full potential, etc.” </p>

<p>There’s not much else to say.</p>

[bluereedz]

<p>Definitely agree with you pink001. I remember sitting down writing that essay for Penn. It’s very difficult to shie away from the laundry list of accomplishments while still maintaining personality. Maybe that’s what Penn’s after: a near-impossible exercise in creativity (of which Gutmann apparently has none). I feel like what all colleges should do is give a general essay topic and let students roam on their own where they see fit.</p>

[Lafalum84]

<p>I found the Cairo story difficult to follow. If I were editing it, I’d have suggested rewording the excessive number of stilted sentences at the beginning. I understand having a few of them for style & emphasis, but I felt like I was reading Yoda (lost, I was).</p>

[stetly]

<p>i agree completely about the penn essay. i also recall answering that question; i tried to be creative and apparently they didn’t like it so much! So i guess they are looking for a ‘look at what i’ve done’ type of response…</p>

[galoisien]

<p>

remember sitting down writing that essay for Penn. It’s very difficult to shie away from the laundry list of accomplishments while still maintaining personality.

</p>

<p>Well I actually I liked that prompt a lot. It’s page 217. You’re supposed to be in the thick of the action. I loved starting in the middle.</p>

[eatsalot]

<p>penn’s essay was horrible. ftl</p>

[cpiers]

<p>Wesleyan’s was great, so was Barnard’s. Penn’s was absolutely horrible.</p>

[yupaka]

<p>What do you think about this essay (the author is Dean of Admissions at the University of Chicago):

In the spirit of those questions Mr. O’Neill loves, The Chronicle asked the dean to write an essay of his own on Tuesday. He was kind enough to compose a response to Option No. 3 on Chicago’s current admissions application.
Essay prompt: A writer does well if in his whole life he can tell the story of one street. Chicagoans, but not just Chicagoans, have always found something instructive, and pleasing, and profound in the stories of their block, of Main Street, of Highway 61, of a farm lane, of the Celestial Highway. Tell us the story of a street, path, road — real or imagined or metaphorical.

Let me see? Which street? This is kind of a setup for any Chicago kid, especially so for any lover of Nelson Algren, and of his streets on what to me, sout’ west sider that I am, was the unknown and unloved North Side. There will be a Nelson Algren birthday party in a few weeks, and I remember the first of those, long ago, but also long after Algren left Chicago, angry, to move to Paterson, N.J., to research the murder trial of Rubin “Hurricane” Carter. The neighborhood ladies, in beehive hairdos, were the sponsors of the party, which was held each year on Division Street, in the Bob Shop, which, once I became worldly enough to go north, was one of my favorites. The proprietor, Kate Smith, introduced us to the music of the genius Ken Vandermark, and so much more neo-bop, and of course, was always open to a party, hence the Algren birthday celebration (Algren lived around the corner on, I believe, Evergreen). So we would file in, and give the Polish ladies (people thought Algren was Polish because of the neighborhood he lived in and the characters in some of his best stories, but he was Swedish, and he had a grandfather who was a self-proclaimed rabbi) our $5, and listen to French gypsy jazz bands and Simone de Beauvoir, Nelson’s sometime lover, impersonators. This year the party will be held in the Steppenwolf Theater, and Matt Damon will be there … this is what Algren wrote about in his little book Chicago: City on the Make. Chicago literature is a literature of nostalgia, streets, and the story of loss and decline. Of course, there is no reason to write more about Division Street, because Studs Terkel has already done it. And Saul Bellow and Isaac Rosenfeld and the Tuley High bunch, with Nietzsche or Aristotle in their pockets, told stories on and about Division Street, their do-wop the spontaneous translation of “The Waste Land” into Yiddish. And not much is left, anyway, that is, left in the Chicago sense of as it was in the lost good old days. The Russian Baths are still on Division Street (read about them in Bellow’s Humboldt’s Gift), and until they turn into condominiums, you can still go to the banya, though the last time around we were given anejo tequila in a fancy bottle instead of borsht and vodka with our massages. After the soak, the bar Zakopane is still there down the block, and the conversation is still in Polish, so it is not as if Chicago has made it all the way.</p>

<p>Studs, of course, leads me straight back to the South Side and Studs Terkel’s namesake, Studs Lonigan, and his creator, James T. Farrell. He was the one who actually walked my streets, and, more or less at the same time, the streets of my father. Once when I was still a kind of graduate student, working for the College of the University of Chicago, a friend of mine working in the university’s development office was assigned to pick up James Farrell from the airport, what my father and Mayor Daley both always called O’Hara. The real Farrell, who was my dad’s, and my, nearly favorite author. He was back for the dedication of a stained-glass window in Rockefeller Chapel installed in honor of Teddy Linn, the English teacher who inspired Farrell to write the first story about the character who would become Studs Lonigan. My friend arranged for me to meet the author as he walked from the Quadrangle Club to the bookstore to buy a new typewriter ribbon for the novel he was writing — his 70th, or so — as he traveled. He signed my paperback copy of one of his Danny O’Neill novels, A World I Never Made, and we talked, and I asked him about Algren. He told me how he once saved Algren — maybe he even said he saved Algren’s life — when he was threatened by some CPA thugs (Farrell was a Trotskyite by then, and Algren was a more orthodox communist who had, apparently, strayed). He said some nice things about Algren’s writing, at its best, and then we talked about the White Sox, which he loved, and I loved, and, as it turned out, Algren loved. I came to know later, and this is such a relief, that Algren himself started on the South Side, around 71st Street, and he moved north to the land of the Cubbies. In one of his stories he tells about moving to the new North Side neighborhood and going out to play ball, and when each kid took the identity of his favorite Cub, Algren was asked who he was, and he could only think of White Sox — by then, Black Sox. That is the kind of mistake you don’t make on our streets without paying the price.

</p>