A friend of mine and I recently pondered about his rejection from Yale.
“I mean, I had a 97. a 22XX and 790/800 on my subject tests. I’m about to graduate with the 2nd most AP classes anyone from my school has ever taken, and I’ve gotten a 5 on all except one. I was on the math team. And most of all, my Yale interviewer told me that I fit into the ‘Yale mold.’”
“The Yale mold?”
“Like she said that I was exactly like a Yale student going in.”
“How?”
“Great grades, great test scores, challenging classes.”
So my friend fit into the mold and still got rejected. Notice how he was unable to define the mold; just that his interviewer told him that he fit into it. For what it’s worth, I could’ve told him the same thing.
As far as academics go, a 97/22 w/e and a host of 5’s are nothing to scoff at. But what else did he have going for him? The Math team? To his credit, he was sick during soccer tryouts during sophomore year and was cut. He lives in a relatively small city in the south, where there may not be as many opportunities as there are in sprawling metropolises.
With what he has given me, does he fit into the Yale mold? I wouldn’t know; I didn’t know one existed. I don’t think molds are there for people to fit into snugly; rather, they are meant to be broken. A mold simply implies that one is as good as the others who are also part of the mold. Therefore, a Yale mold is very, very good.
But not nearly good enough. If you’re only as good as the other applicants, you wouldn’t be giving admissions any impetus to choose you over the others. Why should they? Well how can one be better than a 97 and w/e w/e? It doesn’t get much higher than that, does it?
It does. And it’s not academics. When admissions tell you that most of their applicants have academic records eerily similar to the one belonging to my friend, they’re not lying. Good grades and great test scores won’t singularize you. Good isn’t good enough; you have to be better.
After returning to school from spring break, I walked into a class of mine to see my friend who’s usually as sanguine as can be crestfallen. I didn’t know why, but I knew why. It could’ve been anything from the death of a grandparent to the, to the… To the college rejections he may have recieved during vacation. As HS seniors who had nothing better to talk about, the person sitting next to him asked him where he’s headed. He said Macaulay. He could’ve ended the sentence there, but he didn’t. He continued with “all that hard work for nothing. I got rejected from all the top 20 schools I had applied to. Columbia, Hopkins, everywhere.” He is indeed one of the hardest working individuals I’ve ever came across.
If one applies to the very best colleges, rejections are inevitable. Had you devoted your 4 years of high school to gaining acceptances, rejections will hit you a lot harder. You may get some acceptances too, and sure, they’re nice. But if I asked you “how has your life become better since you entered high school” and the only answers you come up with are bromides like “I have become more mature,” or “I have more friends,” or worse yet, “I’ve had great grades, and most of all, I have this Yale acceptance letter to show for it!” then the next 4 years will be a repeat of the last 4 years of your life. Sure, the location will then be New Haven. But what else has changed/will have changed?
You can’t commit your life to good academia, which isn’t really saying that good academia is not important. Feel free to disagree, but I believe that it will give you a chance, but that’s it. A chance. I know you CCer’s are well aware of the chances of getting into schools like Yale, Stanford, Harvard, etc.
Maintaining good grades should be a sidequest. Your main goal should be to live. You have to dedicate your life to something. That something, in its most general sense, is to be the best. Whatever you’re the best in doesn’t matter. It could be anything from “the best, period” to “the best painter I’ll ever meet,” which, though it partly suggests that you’ll never meet another painter as good as you, really means that you hold yourself in the highest esteem possible. Understandably, it might be hard for a painter to not be star-struck if he or she were to come face to face with the Picasso of the 21st century (I don’t know that is; pardon my ignorance). But the important part is believing it. If you do that, then you’ll believe in yourself. That makes all the difference in the world.
Few teenagers know exactly what their fortes are. Nevertheless, you have to try. You have to have some idea. You don’t necessarily have to stick with it throughout the rest of your life, I mean, how many NBA players are there anyway? 400 in a country that has a total population of 300 something million? But there should be one or two definitive characteristics of your adolescence beyond “it was when I first started taking interest in the opposite sex.”
Just today, I read a passage about 2 kids who both loved baseball: the author and his older brother who died at age 17. The older brother was a natural on the track field, but he dropped it because he loved playing baseball even though he was probably the worst player on the team due to his poor hand-eye coordination. Life and its many joys do not follow a mantra of “the absolute best or bust.”
Colleges are not so different.