<p>Quoted from “Beyond the Numbers” in the William and Mary Alumni Magazine | Spring/Summer 2007, Vol. 72, No. 3/4: </p>
<p>There are two questions that the Admission staff asks when evaluating an app.</p>
<p>Is this someone who is capable of success here?</p>
<p>Is this someone who will contribute to the greater whole?</p>
<p>The first, according to Broaddus, is “almost an empirical question.” It’s not hard to look at a student’s application and determine whether they’re smart and willing enough to keep up at William and Mary. There’s a baseball analogy in the committee for this: “all bases covered.” In admission baseball, there are five bases: biology, chemistry, physics, calculus and four to five years of a foreign language. This is just one measure of whether a student has completed a competitive courseload in high school. They also talk in strange numbers, often saying something like “4-plus-2,” which apparently is not “6” I later learn this to be the combined number of Advanced Placement and International Baccalaureate courses taken in the student’s senior (4) and junior (2) years, respectively. These things are quantifiable, and most discussion of this question is brief.</p>
<p>Not everyone fits this category. “You have to look at whether admitting the student is a good call for the student,” I’m told, even if the student has done everything expected of them. These are difficult decisions, and while the atmosphere is relaxed and collegial, it is thoughtful and serious, too.</p>
<p>The second question is more tricky. Many students, academically, are eminently qualified to attend William and Mary – there just isn’t enough room for all of them. Each year, more applications arrive in Williamsburg than the last. The committee process is designed to narrow the list down in steps with an absolute minimum of human error.</p>
<p>“Everybody brings a certain set of biases to this process,” Broaddus says, before smiling to add: “We then try to beat that out of them.”</p>
<p>Here’s how the “beatings” work – figuratively, of course. Each application is read by two people. A student from, say, Richmond, Va., will be examined by the regional dean assigned to the area that includes Richmond, who in this case is assistant dean Tyson Brown. This is to establish context. Brown has already traveled throughout their region over the years, learning the ins and outs of the high schools there. Keep in mind, a student who pulls a 3.5 GPA in an environment where good grades aren’t “cool” may be just as impressive as a straight-A student at a top-tier private or magnet school. He knows these differences and can point out important details during the committee meetings later on. Brown makes a recommendation on each student in his pool, as well as those sampled from other regions. Ensuring two pairs of eyes on each application is uncommon for a college or university in Virginia, and while valuable, it can take its toll.</p>
<p>“It’s a heavy load to read each application twice, but it definitely gives the student the respect they deserve,” says Brown, who also covers California and New York.</p>
<p>The third person, who reads all the applications recommended for admission, is Broaddus. There are three categories by the time the apps reach his desk: those who are recommended to admit without the full committee debate, those who are recommended for rejection without the debate and those who are on the fence, which are then sent to committee. If Broaddus agrees with the other deans’ recommendations from the first category, he will admit them accordingly. If he disagrees with some, he sends those applications to committee. The staff was gracious enough to allow me to join them – and an intimidating array of folders and paperwork – in committee.</p>
<p>Something Extra
The door to the committee room is not locked. People come in and out occasionally while discussions are going on. The discussions here are dispassionate and analytical, but there aren’t as many numbers being tossed around as I expected. We’re talking about impressions here, not statistics. There is still plenty of jargon, though I’m picking up on it now. I figured out that “PQs” means “personal qualities” all by myself.</p>
<p>One student, while not a clear admit during the reading process, is very quickly put into the “accept” pile, which is on the far table. There are two sub-piles in each category, one for men and another for women. Another young woman is in the top 5 percent of her class, has plenty of extracurricular activities and a part-time job, but is still “lacking the hook that would make her compelling.” She gets in anyway, but I grow more and more amazed at the caliber of William and Mary students as the meeting continues. These folks are not impressed by SAT scores that make my score look pathetic by comparison. It’s a miracle I ever got into this school, I say to myself.</p>
<p>Speaking of the SAT: the score doesn’t mean much by itself. One staffer asks if the student “sat on his score,” or if he had taken it more than once in an effort to improve. They’re looking, I realize, for the student who is interested in achieving more for himself, whether it’s in academics or in his personal life. </p>
<p>“We’re trying to create a vibrant community that is constantly challenging each other,” says Earl Granger. “We’re looking for students who aren’t interested in being defined by one particular thing.” </p>
<p>It’s not simple or easy to do so, but finding these students is vital to the betterment and improvement of William and Mary. With so many qualified students on paper, the committee must thoughtfully, albeit subjectively, narrow a long list of qualified students into the incoming freshman class.</p>
<p>Basket puts it this way. She sometimes sits on panels of admission officers from other schools, discussing what it takes to gain admission to their particular school. Frequently, as the lone representative from a highly selective school like William and Mary, she listens to the lists of grades and SATs that other schools require, then delights in saying: “Throw everything out that you just heard. None of that is going to get you into William and Mary.” There has to be something else, something a little bit extra.</p>
<p>“We don’t always want students to be comfortable. We want you to be on the edge of your seat,” says Granger. That willingness to push boundaries and challenge him or herself is what makes a qualified student a William and Mary student. That, he tells me, is the whole point.</p>