A smarter student would probably just kiss ass and keep his or her expectations of the community college classroom low. Unfortunately, I have a hard time remembering that rule, and really only remember it when I begin to think of the Four Year admissions process.
In high school I was somewhat of a polarizing student. I received glowing letters of recommendations from three teachers, but I was also getting suspended and taken to task by the world's most boring Civics teacher. So far, every piece of advice I find on applying to Four Year recommend "being honest" and explaining indiscretions. What they really mean of course, is apologizing, learning, growing, etc. And in some cases I can honestly do that, but in other cases I can't because there are plenty of "indiscretions" that I don't feel any remorse over. I guess I should focus on the things I HAVE learned and grown from, and should skip anything resembling "Hey, I missed more than forty days of school in the eighth grade so really you should look at my high school career as an improvement!"
The reality is that high school is a bag of contradictions and I'd rather just skip discussing it all together. When it comes to writing a personal essay I again run up against the problems of trying to sound like me while simultaneously branding myself like a product, while trying to reconcile the contradictions. It seems like a nearly impossible task to undertake in a short essay.
How do you try and show that despite academic pitfalls you're intelligent enough, equipped enough, to be a successful student at a Four Year university, running up against 18 year old valedictorians? You can't prove things that you've taught yourself. You can't prove the hours you spend using Rosetta Stone learning a foreign language, or teaching yourself programming language, or learning about credit, or the financial aide process, or just about anything you were never taught in a class or by a parent.
One reason why I hate writing personal narrative essays is because there is the desire to reconcile all the contradictions to conform to some singular thesis or narrative. How do you explain that while your parents emphasized reading and being smart, you were expected not to become too smart, or that you'd be encouraged while simultaneously undermined? In this reality tv obsessed culture, how do you explain the nuances of a family? How do you explain that no, your mom's not a hoarder so much as she just becomes overwhelmed. How do you brand yourself as a student from a working class background of parents who didn't go to college, while also marking your step mother as an graduate student alumni from your college of choice? How do you explain the dual sensations of success? Or the self mutilation that comes with being a successful student?
The problem with researching the admissions process is that all the advice is geared towards baby chicks fresh from high school. At 28 years old, recommendations about excelling in a sport aren't really helpful or realistic. The disappointing news is that community service hours are, supposedly, given more weight than being able to hold down a full time job. I've done community service, and continue to, but probably not as much as a student with more time and less financial obligations. Despite the possibility that my job may not be appreciated by an admissions board, I'm still going to play that up. I have a history of excellent performance reviews and, in this increasingly career oriented climate colleges are finding themselves in, a person who can hold down a job and work well with others should be of interest to a school. I mean, my Step Aunt has a husband who graduated from Harvard but he's been out of work for years because he looks like an Elf on his way to Mordor, and he has the worst personality I've ever had the displeasure of coming across. Most people learn to survive by getting a haircut, smiling, and not complaining about every little thing -- but he's still waiting for Gandalf the Grey to make his dreams come true.
Now, historically, I've always heard that college's want "well rounded" students, and that seems to be what many of their transfer admissions web pages are implying, if not stating outright, yet according to some of my recent research well rounded students can be at a disadvantage. Time magazine reported that Rachel Toor, a former admissions officer at Duke University, says that admission officers favor "angular kids, those with a much more focused interest or talent" over well rounded students. According to Time, the same thing goes on at Cornell University. I'm not planning on applying to any place so ritzy and selective, but if this is true for the public universities I'll be applying to, then it could actually work in my favor.
But, like everything else in life, so much of the information I find is contradictory. Even reading the comments to an article just makes it that much more confusing! Some argue that you should absolutely know what's going in to your letter of recommendation, others say that you must sign the waiver of confidentiality (which I was going to do anyway) to be taken seriously. But, others have argued that not knowing what's in a letter means you could get a crap letter, which is worse than no letter at all! Some posters tackle the more interesting and controversial subject of the role letters of recommendation play in admissions when so much of building a relationship with a teacher is based on things like social class, race, and classroom size. That's worth reflection, but for now, I'm just concerned that I make sure to only ask professors who will correctly spell my name.
In the New York Times blog article a commentator, and alleged teacher, wrote " I can’t stress this enough, WRITE A FORMAL THANK YOU NOTE FOR THE RECOMMENDATION. If I can take an hour to personalize a letter for your future, you can take five minutes to personalize a thank you card. After eleven years and over 100 recommendations I have received nine thank you cards. I know this because I keep them. It baffles me that seniors in high school are so entitled that they can’t even formally thank someone for their time and effort. This is a big one for me."
So that makes me feel really happy that I overcame my fear of my horrible handwriting to send my Econ teacher a Thank You card. I wrote as slowly and as legibly as I possibly could.
Ultimately, applying to schools is going to be an exercise in trust and faith, both of which I have in very little supply. But I still need to do as much as I can to brand myself. If/When I finally receive some sort of comments on my Creative Writing assignments, maybe I can fix them up and do something with them for my portfolio. I actually tried at poetry this semester, and I've gotten better. I figure that poetry is good because it's short, and hopefully it's short enough so that an admissions officer doesn't lose interest and chuck it in the trash bin.
So, I'll continue to research the admissions process. Looks like I have some books to buy.
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