“But that’s the point of developing a fit-based college list.”
Exactly!
“the common app does allow for that.”
Interesting, I didn’t know that, but why wouldn’t you save the specifics for the supplemental essays that most selective colleges require?
“I think the applicant would do best to target the essay to to the campus they most want to attend in any case.”
The GCs recommended not to do that, if you say that UCLA is your dream school, the other UCs will reject and if UCLA rejects, you have zero acceptances.
My kids took this direction. S1 is always positive and enthusiastic. He is not easily deterred. S2 friendly and inclusive. Takes others under his wing.
That would be an option but the point was that the core essay might send the wrong message if there was a significant difference in college agendas.
In general colleges are pretty much looking for the same thing— but I was responding your comment about a common app restriction that has an easy workaround. It’s theoretically possible to do a different essay for each college with the common app, because the essays can be changed any time up to submission, and the system allows for serial submission. I’m not suggesting that students do that… just mentioning that the option exists.
“Targeting” doesn’t mean announcing that one campus is a “dream school” – but the point is to direct the essay to the preferred campuses… because you don’t want your top choice turning you down because you failed to convey the key information that would get you admitted. It may very well be that some campuses don’t even offer the desired major, especially for more specialized, less common majors. If a student wants to major in Animal Science and they can’t get accepted into UC Davis, that’s a problem. (No other campuses offer that major). They can choose an alternative life sciences orientated major at a different campus – but they are going to want to make sure that Davis understands their interest clearly.
It seems like the Common App switches back and forth on tailoring your essay, some years explaining how, other times discouraging. A few years ago, remember the last minute snafus when kids tried. And kids can get confused in the process.
Find the commonalities in your range of targets. Not just what you want, but what they do. A lot of kids make a lot of busy work out of applying. It seems recently more CC kids said they’re working so hard on essays, in junior year. The time may be better spent, at that point, with their thinking caps on, working smarter.
Anton Checkov originated show not tell:
“Don’t tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass.”
Longer version:
“In descriptions of Nature one must seize on small details, grouping them so that when the reader closes his eyes he gets a picture. For instance, you’ll have a moonlit night if you write that on the mill dam a piece of glass from a broken bottle glittered like a bright little star, and that the black shadow of a dog or a wolf rolled past like a ball.”
Example:
“The dam, flooded with moonlight, showed not a bit of shade; on it, in the middle, the neck of a broken bottle glittered like a star. The two wheels of the mill, half-hidden in the shadow of an ample willow, looked angry, despondent.”
Of course, Chekhov was one of the most skilled writers in the history of the universe, so it’s easier to tell you what he did than to show how he did it.
Chekhov wasn’t talking about the Common App essay. (Lovely example, though.)
This is mission writing. The mission is to advance your shot at an admit.
Go for the elegance of economy. IOW, not too much, not too little, just right. It’s neither the time to experiment nor write about any old thing that’s “you.” Make it make sense for your mission. Yes, that requires some understanding.
In the loveliness of good writing, one adapts to the purpose. And expressions like “Show, not just tell” can evolve to mean different things, for different purposes. Here, again, it’s college admission.
If I see that many words to describe something simple in a 500 word essay I roll my eyes. I think you are better off sounding like a teenager.
So, I have climbed to the mountaintop and I have arrived at the cave where the great guru/hermit lookingforward is seated, ready perhaps to answer the questions of the earnest seekers who have come all the way up the mountain.
My question is, what is the mysterious “it” that you often write about, in terms of “getting it”? How does one actually go about acquiring “some understanding,” or “working smarter”? Heck, I am a college professor, I have good friends at top schools, and I have no idea what this advice means (except for MIT, where they do kindly spell it out, more or less, and I can tell what they are looking for). It all seems like rather cabalistic knowledge. Could you be a little more explicit? Is this one of those, "If you have to ask . . . " scenarios?
. . . aside from the Goldilocks part, “not too much, not too little, just right.” At that point, I envision myself being eaten by the three bears–metaphorically of course.
I would guess that a lot of CC posters and their parents are frustrated by the advice to do something different from what they are doing, when–in my view–it is not so easy to get a clue as to what that actually is.
Oy vey.
Don’t make it so hard folks.
If a kid is a theater geek, don’t write an essay which is essentially a laundry list of the shows he or she has been in. Write a narrative about a particular experience in theater, performing, moving scenery, or whatever was particularly interesting/inspiring (or not).
I have read a lot of essays and many of them are lists (or bullet points) strung together with a few pronouns. And then an adjective at the end to show that it’s the end.
Show don’t tell means create an actual story with a beginning and an end, which has a point to it. Not a tweet or the caption on an instagram photo.
That’s it. Don’t go crazy on the mysterious “it”.
No, I don’t publicly make it simple. More like Yoda. “So certain were you. Go back and closer you must look.”
A kid has to do his part, make the effort, then we can talk about it… But even in long PM exchanges , I don’t “tell” a kid they keys. Otoh, one can lead a bright, receptive kid to understanding and ways to make his/her choices. And then it always leads to the same conclusion: Done right, you can get yourself closer to the finals. At that point, it’s completely in the intitution’s hands. You don’t know your competition, can’t be certain of their particular needs (the tuba player, one less kid from City X and one more from elsewhere.)
The bright ones understand what’s within their control and what’s not and are willing to try. A great life skill.
Here’s what an MIT student blogger at MIT admissions said: http://mitadmissions.org/blogs/entry/admissions_advice_from_someone
I think it’s pretty good advice for any school.
I also like this: Extracurricular Activities
from http://mitadmissions.org/apply/prepare/highschool
My older son lucked out that he applied to Harvard in a year when they were looking for more tech kids, but mostly he was being himself, to the extent that he told his Harvard interviewer that he’d rather go to MIT. He showed them who he was and they decided he was a good enough fit. He didn’t write some lovefest to Harvard.
I didn’t even know that there was an “it” to get until lookingforward kept bringing up “getting it.”
I agree that MIT Admissions is open about what they are looking for. They also seem to still have a chip on their collective shoulder (still!) against the hapless sap who just walks into an SAT testing locale and comes out with double 800s (or quintuple 800s) without multiple takes, tutors, or extensive prepping. It just seems to turn them off. That bothers me.
I am perhaps handicapped by thinking about what the faculty at the top schools want in their students, rather than what Admissions wants in the class. It’s a bit difficult to shake the former in favor of the latter.
I am pretty good at close reading. I actually know a bit about the top schools from being there, or having family members there. And yet I am still pretty mystified when it comes to the essay (most places). So I really sympathize with this year’s upcoming seniors and their parents.
No, we’ve had long threads about “it,” not initiated by me. Aka, “extra,” “more,” or some of the talk around “average excellent” kids. I’m just one of sevral advocating kids don’t apply blnd then call crapshoot.
What MIT says also needs to be balanced with how they act. Hmm, a little “show, not just tell” of its own. In particular, notice they advise to pursue what interests you, etc. But they choose the class they want, not the applicants who did only did what they (the candidates) wanted.
This simply isn’t just about what faculty want in their classes, office hours, or over coffee. It’s about the community being built for the next four years. Think in terms of “in and out of class.” It’s a buzz phrase. And isn’t restricted to the dept hallways.
Yes, but there point is that you should look for the college that fits you, you’ll be happier and more successful that way. I think a lot of kids are being pushed into engineering and medicine who might be a lot happier doing something else.
Agree. But the connection has to work for both sides- you and that institution you want. Not just they fit what you want. Or else be brutally realistic and if they don’t take you, “Oh, well.”
We talk a lot about the effort to be tops in high school (or whatever level where a kid feels comfortable.) Now kids need to also put a little effort into matching themselves.
Quant- I know several kids currently at MIT, previously at MIT who are exactly as you describe- and they are hardly hapless saps. But you seem miffed because JUST getting a string of 800’s with no prep doesn’t automatically mean an open admission. There needs to be something else of substance to the kid- intellectual substance- that isn’t just “i’m a great test taker”.
I had one of those kids. A natural born test taker. But none of us deluded ourselves that the string of 800’s was going to open the door in the absence of the other stuff.
And the other stuff- not a mystery. Love of learning. Passion for math. Deeply curious about everything. etc.
I see no chip on anyone’s shoulder. Just a pretty open declaration that merely being a good test taker isn’t sufficient. And I think that’s appropriate.
That good test-taker? There are no shortage of top 50 colleges where JUST having a string of 800’s is absolutely going to mean open admissions. Absolutely.
Re: MIT. “And the other stuff- not a mystery. Love of learning. Passion for math. Deeply curious about everything. etc.”
And that’s what has to “show.” You can’t just say, “I love learning.” You can’t just say, “I’m deeply curious.” Your record needs to show how you edged out of the box, did try new things, have taken on challenges, are not single dimensional.
And how that truly manifests. For this college. Not founding another club or programming apps or whatever.
Sounds scary, considering that my kid did just this. I guess he needs to make sure he talks about his many failures in the essays 
You better believe it, yucca10! No, I am not advocating that getting a string of 800’s should be sufficient. I think that I have made that clear on other threads. I am just saying that the 800’s should not turn MIT off.
The size of the chip on the shoulder about a string of 800’s has been greatly reduced at MIT since 2006. It was non-existent at some earlier point. But if you had read the Admissions web site and blogs circa 2006, it would have been self-evident. It would not have taken close reading at all.
I called the person a “hapless sap” essentially in jest, because my advice for a potential MIT applicant a decade ago would have been, “Oh, no, Johnny, you are in danger of getting all of the questions correct! You should insert a deliberate mistake. MIT won’t know it was deliberate, and they will like you better.” 
I am surprised that there is still any subliminal anti-800 rhetoric on the MIT site. Perhaps they are just trying to encourage applicants with lower scores, but excellent qualifications.