<p>As I said before, I am not opposed to visits, just suspicious of the information they produce. Certainly in mini’s daughter’s case, a home-schooled kid experiencing varsity-level drinking over a couple of days is relevant information. (Although I have to say I have a virtual niece at a famous college that is indistinguishable from the one I think mini is talking about, and she’s a complete abstainer with little tolerance for drinking behavior, and she’s happy as a clam. And one of my daughter’s friends is at the same college mini’s daughter ultimately chose and has at times felt pretty oppressed by the alchohol culture there, too.) </p>
<p>I’m also familiar with cognitive dissonance. Part of what I’m arguing is that it can be positive. If a college has a good reputation, a good faculty, attracts good students, has alumni loyalty, etc., chances are there’s a lot to love about it. If a kid winds up there and focuses on figuring out what’s worthwhile, rather than how it differs from his or her expectations/fantasies, that’s not a bad thing. </p>
<p>No institution is perfect; all of them are unique in some ways; the differences between them (at certain basic equivalence levels) are ususally a lot less important than the similarities. And to the extent the differences ARE important, it’s really, really hard to get a meaningful sense about them in a few days’ visit (but really, really easy to get distracted by trivial differences like the weather, the building materials, the food, the five random students you talk to). </p>
<p>In the end, I think kids are better served by making some big decisions (size, region, competitiveness, culture, reputation), getting as much information as possible but not over-valuing visits, and then going with the flow of whatever school they pick, as opposed to searching for the elusive perfect fit. It depresses me to read about kids who are shattered by a rejection from their “dream school”, or who can’t adapt to this or that perfectly fine institution. Something’s wrong with that.</p>
<p>Back to my father. He knew he was stepping out of his comfort zone by going to a New England LAC from the Newark Jewish ghetto, but he had no idea just how uncomfortable that would be, how big the cultural gap was. Had he visited for more than an hour or two first, he definitely would have figured that out, but that’s all he would have figured out. What he learned, ultimately, was that he could deal with far more different types of people than he ever had before, that he could recognize them and get them to recognize him, and that the values of his college were much closer to his real values than his parents’ values were. He could easily have missed out on all of that if he had trusted his gut after spending a weekend there.</p>
<p>Or me. When I showed up at my suburban grad school, I had never really spent time in a suburb before. I was disgusted, offended. It didn’t look like a great university, it looked like a golf course dotted by big-box stores. What I learned – it took me a few months, not more – was that it WAS a great university, and that it delivered on everything I had considered important in making my decision – student quality, faculty quality, collegial atmosphere, value of credential, cross-disciplinary opportunities, a change in context for me. That what it looked like wasn’t what it was, and anyway I could (grudgingly) learn to appreciate its beauty, too. I know I would have crossed it off my list if I had visited first, and I know equally well that I made absolutely the right decision in choosing to go there.</p>