<p>oops. </p>
<p>I can spell, but I can’t type! (luckily not a skill Harvard ever checked for.) Way back when we handwrote our application essays.</p>
<p>@marysidney, I read all the Georgette Heyers when I was in high school too. Both my kids read tons and tons of sci fi and fantasy. They always had a book going that they liked better than anything they were reading for school.</p>
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<p>According to another site that has college data the number is 95%.</p>
<p>(I don’t know if I am allowed to link to another college site)</p>
<p>Mary Sidney, I think there is still room for the introvert - but they can’t be so introverted that their alternative pursuits wouldn’t be evident from a college application; adcoms aren’t mind-readers, after all. </p>
<p>There are also plenty of ECs that are reasonably introvert-friendly; I don’t think the average quiz bowl team, for instance, is necessarily filled with type A personalities. Now, of course a student can decide that she would rather write poetry in her room all day, which is her prerogative - but in that case the poetry had better be pretty darn special. If you’re Emily Dickinson, and can submit “Because I Could Not Stop for Death” as your college essay, that’s one thing. But if you’re just a good, or even very good poet, well - these colleges can find other pretty good poets who have also done other things.</p>
<p>Well, even Emily Dickinson wasn’t writing good poetry at 17. But writing bad poetry is part of the process of writing good poetry. </p>
<p>I’m not saying a kid should have no documentable ECs, just that “demonstrated excellence” and “taking it to the next level” are phrases that discourage me. I think there should still be room for amiable experimentation, for cheerful mediocrity, while a student is battling the gorgons of AP and SAT. </p>
<p>Collegealum314, according to the Harvard Common Data Set the percentage of students graduating in the top 10% is 95.4%</p>
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There’s plenty of room for kids like that. Just not at Harvard.</p>
<p>As for the poetry-writing introvert, the poetry should at least be winning Scholastic Art and Writing Awards.</p>
<p>We’re placing a lot of weight on what one high school official said. I just don’t think it’s so. I also don’t believe that the top schools would rather have a kid who played in the high school orchestra vs. one who played in highly selective outside orchestras. They might prefer a kid who did both, I suppose.</p>
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<p>I disagree strongly with this sentiment.</p>
<p>I suspect the poets most likely to be prominent as adults are least likely to take part in the cultural practices which render every teenaged activity a matter for competition. The leaders of the next generation are also least likely to win competitions. </p>
<p>It’s a matter of ethos and artistic temperament. </p>
<p>That’s okay. I don’t think a campus full of career-minded resume builders is the right place for poets. </p>
<p>I don’t know. Sylvia Plath comes to mind…but that didn’t turn out well for her, either, come to think of it.</p>
<p>I don’t think we need to slam the people on these campuses as “career minded resume builders.” </p>
<p>What do you expect from adcoms, in this case? We already know that they aren’t looking for scores alone, so it isn’t as if they turn up their nose at brilliant creative types who didn’t quite crack a 2300 and had a few Bs. In fact, for a really outstanding writer, I’d hazard that they would go quite a bit lower than that, stats-wise.</p>
<p>But if there isn’t actually evidence of particular creative brilliance either, while that doesn’t mean the student in question will NOT emerge as an accomplished artist, they can’t judge by what isn’t yet there. That means that yes, there will be plenty of emerging poets and artists who are passed over by great schools (in cases in which they apply at all), but the alternative is accepting every mediocre teenager writer, the vast majority of whom won’t prove to have any extraordinary talent. </p>
<p>And again, I don’t appreciate the knock on elite school students. Some hoops are worth jumping through. At the extreme, of course there are some people who really do give over their lives completely to a mechanical, calculated pursuit of what they perceive to be the perfect resume. But doing certain things you don’t particularly want to do to get where you want to go isn’t a sign of ruthlessness or dullness or lack of passion, it is a sign of maturity. How many people in the adult world, even people who love their jobs, spend all day doing only things about which they are passionate?</p>
<p>That this culture hasn’t much use for poetry in general is true, but a subject for another hour. I’m not worried about my postulated poet getting into Harvard, or Yale, or Princeton, or any other of the tippy-top pressure chambers we’ve contrived for our Creme de la Creme kids; clearly they don’t want dreamy idealists, and that’s okay. I’m worried that seemingly all colleges are now looking for a sort of exhibitionism, that every interest or talent one has must be trumpeted and milked for all it’s worth. What they used to call sprezzatura is being lost–doing things well without seeming to work that hard at it, not taking yourself seriously although you’re pretty good, not competing but achieving facility for the pleasure of it. One ought to be able to write poetry to express oneself, not for publication. (If your English teacher submits it for publication for you, well, then, that’s another story.) I find it attractive in a kid that he’s willing to run track and always come in fourth, because he likes to run; that she’s not good enough for ensemble singers, but she likes to sing in the chorus; that his family goes camping in the summer instead of sending him to some computer camp. Not everything has to be sanctified by institutional approval, in my view. </p>
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I think the most selective colleges are looking for kids like this–but they are looking for kids who do this in terms of their grades and scores, leaving them time to do other things well. This is why I always cringe when I read complaints about kids who were rejected from top schools even though they worked so hard in school. It seems kind of mean to tell them that Harvard was looking for kids who didn’t have to work so hard.</p>
<p>MarySidney- I think the kids you describe are actually happily in residence at Harvard, Yale, Princeton, etc. The problem is that the kid you describe- is “off the charts” intellectually, not the typical smart kid we talk about on this board. Every elite school admits that they save a few spots for kids whose sheer intellectual prowess is so substantial that the kid DOES NOT do any of the HS EC’s, participate in sports, or if they do any of these things they do it for recreation and fun, not for leadership or validation.</p>
<p>But we can’t talk about those kids on CC. Why? Because every Tom Dick and Harry will talk about their kid who scored 800’s and was rejected from Princeton. Not talking about that kind of “really smart kid”. Talking about another level entirely, and frankly, those kids can’t be bought or groomed or cultivated or packaged. They just are.</p>
<p>I’ve known one of those kids (amidst dozens of “regular smart kids” who’ve ended up at top schools.) He played three instruments badly. He had zero leadership activities. Most of the kids in his HS probably did not know his last name. He had been taking university level math for so many years by the time he got to college that his HS transcript showed no math since 7th grade. He was a polymath on multiple dimensions- beyond brilliant. He was accepted everywhere he applied (with welcome phone calls in January, if you can imagine-- from Adcoms who had just read his application) with pretty much zero “EC’s” and zero self-promotion. Worked in a retail store over the summer at minimum wage so no fancy “programs” or volunteer service. </p>
<p>These kids exist. The colleges are happy to have them- and not just Cal Tech and MIT. But why talk about them? They scored 800’s on their SAT’s at age 12, so the colleges don’t exactly need a bunch of 9 year olds taking SAT prep to be designated part of a longitudinal study on extreme giftedness. (As if you could coach a typical smart 9 year old to score an 800.)</p>
<p>Mary Sidney, you’re using a lot of loaded words (exhibitionism, trumpeted, milked,) but you’re actually describing something that is a lot less sinister. If a math student joins the math team, is that exhibitionism, or is it taking part in something you love? If a young poet publishes a poem - as nearly all professional poets have, by definition, done - is that “milking” a talent? If you mention your abilities on an application designed to assess what you bring to the table, is that “trumpeting” your accomplishments any more than talking about your skills on a professional resume?</p>
<p>I’m also a little confused about your examples of the track runner who comes in fourth, the singer who loves to sing but isn’t good enough for ensemble singers, etc. Of course there is nothing wrong about any of those things, and I think for the purposes of college admissions they’ll add to the full picture like any other EC. does, and might be noted in things like essays in recommendations. What they’re not going to do is serve as tip or hook factors in the way that being an accomplished athlete and musician does, and that seems reasonable. I mean, there is also something to be said for being a kid who challenges himself in difficult classes because he is interested in the subjects even though he’s a consistent “B” student, and there are plenty of colleges that will be happy to have that kid. It still makes sense that, given the choice, an elite school is going to choose the student who takes these classes and gets "A"s in them, and they have the choice. </p>
<p>It also seems like you’re operating under the implied assumption that the fourth place runner is doing it for the love of the sport, while the first place runner is doing it to pad his resume. Actually, there’s a very good chance that they both love the sport, and the first place runner is just better. </p>
<p>I guess I just don’t get how you want it to be different. Students with really high academic stats and a modest array of extracurricular activities can still get into the best schools, although it might be hard for them to set themselves apart in a group that will include people who have the academics plus something extra. Students with somewhat lower academic stats who have distinguished themselves - either through getting awards or through something like submitting a portfolio of work with their app - in other areas can also get into the very top schools. Students who have an exceptional talent but don’t bother communicating it to anyone, including adcoms, can’t possibly have that talent considered for the purposes of admissions. And students who participate in activities for their own sake without having particular talent get the reward of doing those activities for their own sake. To say that it is a problem that HYP misses out on students who take part in an activity WITHOUT demonstrating a certain level of accomplishment is like saying that it is a problem that HYP misses out on loads of really great, personable, ethical, compassionate people who don’t happen to have the resumes to be competitive in admissions. </p>
<p>Getting into HYP is not a measure of your overall worth as a person. It is an imperfect measurement, based on information available at the age of 17, of your accomplishments and potential in a variety of areas. Factors like character and passion can come heavily into play in distinguishing between students at a certain level of accomplishment, but by themselves they aren’t going to be enough. Why should they be?</p>
<p>Mary Sidney, the student you are describing, providing they have the academics, should do well in the directional universities, especially instate.</p>
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<p>Well said. </p>
<p>Apprentice Prof, it’s not a “slam.” It’s a description. </p>
<p>I think Helen Vendler’s essay was quite perceptive about the differences between poetic/creative genius and the characteristics commonly found in students accepted to elite colleges these days. </p>
<p>If you read the biographies of major poets, none of them would be in the running for admission, except Wallace Stevens, who was a Harvard man. The Romantics? Percy Bysshe Shelley? Byron? Hardly. The dutiful will not blow off biology homework to read compulsively. Those who want prizes will not devote effort to work which only springs from joy or artistic drive.</p>
<p>Looking at history, creative spirits thrive in communities. One or two might slip through–I’d suspect them of mostly being legacies–but I can’t conceive of enough students with lopsided, so-so academic records being chosen. They’re also more likely to commit to a college with an active writing community. I’d think you’d be more likely to find them at small, liberal arts colleges such as Hampshire or Kenyon, than at the Ivies. </p>
<p>And that’s o.k. </p>
<p>I remember reading this a couple of years ago when my son was applying, and it’s still posted. Harvard says that it is looking for the next Emily Dickinson, and I believe them. </p>
<p><a href=“https://college.harvard.edu/admissions/apply/what-we-look/valuing-creative-reflective”>https://college.harvard.edu/admissions/apply/what-we-look/valuing-creative-reflective</a></p>
<p>Periwinkle, the “Romantics” also include Keats, Wordsworth and Coleridge, all of whom did go to university. And given the radically different worlds in which these poets were operating - and the fact that attendance at college was at that time far more a function of who your father was than intelligence - I don’t think there is really any meaningful comparison to be drawn from them. Deciding that the Cambridge of 1810 was a stuffy gentleman’s club that wasn’t worth your time is a lot different from making an equivalent assessment of the Harvard of 2014.</p>
<p>I think Helen Vendler’s piece is great. I would also note that, if nothing else,one advantage of being at Harvard is that you get to study with her. </p>
<p>apprenticeprof: You have the Romantics a little wrong. Pretty much all of them, except Keats, went to university. Wordsworth, Coleridge, Byron, and Tennyson were at Cambridge; Shelley went to Oxford but was expelled for writing trashy novels. Browning spent time at UCL. Keats, a middle-class boy whose father died when he was young, was apprenticed to a surgeon and spent some time in a medical school that was rather more a trade school than what we would think of as medical school today. He was basically an autodidact, which was apparent to educated people reading his poetry and the cause of many snobbish comments by reviewers. Most of them were pretty distinguished, and began their careers as published poets while in their teens. Coleridge and Tennyson were particularly distinguished academically, although Coleridge never completed his degree.</p>
<p>Not a poet, but F. Scott Fitzgerald went to Princeton.</p>