<p>I just finished reading apps for an Ivy. After the first pass, to eliminate the wild a**, clearly out-of-range apps, each pkg goes through minimum three more reads, usually four: a 1st and 2nd reader and usually two more adcom reviews, usually reps for other parts of the country. No matter how NPR edited the Amherst report, there are “checks and balances” in place at my school. And, more than one final group meeting to discuss the vast pool of possible admits.</p>
<p>The problem is, as some have stated, that you end up with thousands of potential admits. Some are top in stats, some fall a tier below. And, yes, some fall a bit further from the top, but have remarkable profiles, nonetheless. Our school wants variety- kids who will be great scientists or anthropologists or writers, but also maybe play in the orchestra, maybe try out for a play, join an activist group, some clubs or student govt, get involved in research, work in the community, be great roommates, maybe write for the school paper or volunteer for committees, etc, etc. You don’t figure who these kids are- the ones who will keep the campus vibrant- just by looking at stats.</p>
<p>Leadership is not always president/founder or capt of sports team, but often found in simple, truer things, like peer mentoring, a school advisory committee, camp counselor for a few years or church teacher, hiking guide, read to kids at the library, etc. We liked it when a kid had consistency- ie, same activity for a few years- or a pattern of increasing responsibility (say, member of student gov 4 years, but vp in sr year.) We liked out-of-the-box things (which show the kid’s ability to go beyond what’s available at school or arranged thru school) and some hard-work activities. What didn’t impress was overloading with scientific jargon only a pro could translate, emphasizing that once/month he spent two hours helping in the church nursery, only school club activities or leadership, details about being on the (ugh) prom decorating committee- etc. Or, when the kid overloaded the honors/awards section with things like “9th grade, best in English class. 10th grade, best History report.” There’s more, but it is so much more complex than any few minutes in an NPR report can show.</p>
<p>Btw, we had the option of NOT reading any prior comments, when we looked at a file- just getting our own independent observations first. When you read a lot of these, it’s clear (yes) what sort of kid you’re dealing with- the words we liked to use were: motivated, compassionate, involved, committed, LoR says natural talent for xxx …you get the idea. This does not make it a “formula.” As in life, one gets an impression from “the whole.” And, when the LoRs back up our impressions, that’s weighty. </p>
<p>But, face it, file after file, the LoRs say the same darned things- always had her homework prepared, asked perceptive questions, loves learning, nice disposition. It is insane. We would look for evidence the LoR writer really like the kid, really saw academic promise and resiliance when faced with challenges. The hardest cases are when the kid wants to major in x and that hs teacher was lukewarm. Or, too often, when the kid didn’t ask that specialist teacher for a rec. (Why not?)</p>
<p>We saw plenty of McNuggets type essays- I can’t speak for that one, but I’ve read the vomit tales, the angry missives against kids at the mall, the pointless stuff about how she made best friends with the girl next to her in some class and how they passed notes during the lectures— real head-smackers: you say, why, why did she write this in a college app??? How does this show he is college-ready? And, these were top-stats kids. Sometimes, you cry out for the kid with the interesting angle- not the wacky, but the kid who shows how he grew from some experience or how he persisted for some reason or how it connects to the skills, strengths and interests he will bring to college.</p>
<p>In the end, some win, some lose.</p>