The Many Quirks of Early Decision

by Patrick O'Connor, Ph.D.

It’s one of those things we love to hate, don’t fully understand, and often wish would just go away. 

No, this isn’t a relative, telemarketing calls, or even pineapple on pizza. It’s Early Decision, the kind of college application many counselors are working on at this very moment, since many ED applications are due November 1.

To review, Early Decision is not available at every college. Unlike an Early Action program where students apply early, but can still consider other offers of admission, Early Decision applications have an added twist. If the student is admitted ED, and the college meets the student’s demonstrated financial need, the student must attend that college. 

It's a little tough separating fact from fiction about ED, but here goes:

• Students think an ED application sets them apart from the crowd. Maybe, unless the college takes a larger percentage of ED applicants than regular applicants. If that’s the case, applying ED is actually a disadvantage.

• Students think the GPA and test score averages for ED applicants is higher. In general—in general—these data points are the same for ED and regular applicants.

• ED programs favor wealthy students, and students that go to high schools with smaller counselor caseloads. Absolutely true. Despite some colleges’ best efforts, many first gen and low-income students don’t even know ED exists, let alone why they’d want to apply early.

• Many low-income students pass on applying ED, since they can’t compare financial aid packages—and if they think their ED package contains too much loan, for example, they’d still have to go there, since the college met their need.

• Students who are admitted ED and get enough aid can’t go anywhere else, and if they do, the college punishes the high school for failing to make the student keep their promise.

Yeah. About that.

That’s the issue at the center of a New York Times article, where Tulane University put a high school on ED probation for a year because one of their students backed out of an ED agreement.

This is pretty unusual, and many counselors are crying Foul—after all, how much control does a counselor really have over what a student (or family) does? At the same time, the story suggests the student didn’t tell Tulane they weren’t coming, and the high school didn’t tell Tulane the student wasn’t coming. Subsequent reports do suggest the school made efforts and did reach out to Tulane, making this that much more of a mystery.

New information will undoubtedly come to light, but it begs some questions:

Is it time for ED to go? As long as the institutional plusses for the college outweigh the minuses, and the faithless ED applicants are either small in number or nonexistent, ED is going nowhere.

Should colleges cap the percentage of seats offered to ED students? Another institutional question. If a college likes the mix of students they’re getting through ED, why change what works?

Should ED become more than just a promise? One idea is to change ED, where students and their parents don’t simply promise to attend if admitted, but are required to enter into a contract where, if the student is admitted and changes their mind, they would have to pay a full year’s tuition. This would likely serve as an additional disincentive to low-income students, but it would likely tighten up what some feel may be an increased tendency for students to apply ED and leave the college twisting in the wind.

This makes handling telemarketers seem like a walk in the park.

Counselor Stress in October

by Patrick O'Connor, Ph.D.

Working in a school counseling office is a lot like an open mike night at a comedy club. You drive to work with a mental list of what the day needs to bring — but then a student is waiting for you. Or a parent. Or an administrator.

And it’s goodbye list.

That’s especially true this October. It’s usually busy enough getting students to submit college applications with early deadlines. This year, the government shutdown has the added bonus of students and families who are looking at unemployment, payless workdays, not eating, spiraling healthcare costs, or — arguably worse — waiting for those things to happen to them.

Grad school didn’t teach you how to handle caseloads of 600, and they sure didn’t teach you how to handle a constitutional crisis. Here’s an approach to build off of:

Start with you Stephen Covey’s parable about keeping the saw sharp couldn’t be more true — counselors can’t help others if they don’t take care of themselves. So start with you. Make a list of things, times, and events you’re going to need to be at your centered best. And if that doesn’t include all those things counselors are allegedly known for in self-care — candles, yoga, or big salads for lunch — that’s OK. Some things can only be healed with a chicken parm sub, extra sauce.

Alert Your Boss This is the time of year students come to you with a college application on October 31 and say “It’s due tomorrow”, expecting the only thing you had on your calendar was car waxing and bonbon consumption. Once you tell them you’ll do what you can, but you can’t make any promises — and that is what you should tell them — someone’s going to share their displeasure about you with your boss. Tell them ahead of time that your office is being flooded with requests. That will help them help you.

About Those College Apps You likely told juniors last spring that requests related to college applications — transcripts, counselor letters, meetings to review student essays — needed to be done a month before the deadline. And you told them again this fall. And their parents. Four times.

And yet.

In the interest of your sanity, and your department, stick to your guns — no midnights in the office or checking email November 1, unless you promised you would do that (here’s hoping you didn’t). “Make sure your part of the application is in by the deadline, and I’ll do my best” is all you can really promise. Truth is, many colleges give adults a little extra time to submit their supportive materials, because they know kids can be kids. Some don’t, but that’s not your fault. You told them.

Shutdown issues Their parents don’t have jobs, or they have jobs but no paycheck. State-based food supplement programs have no federal money, and everyone is looking at healthcare costs going up as much as 400%.

Plan ahead. An hour with your office door closed allows you to do an Internet search of local and state resources designed to help people suddenly in need — and if you work in a multi-counselor office, their hour behind closed doors strengthens the list. Post it on your Web site, email it to students, parents, and faculty, and get the word out there. Send a second email to faculty, reminding them students are at risk, and to please send any student to you who seems to need a word of support. They’ll know.

Ask for help A student has a need you can’t help with. Chances are you know someone who can. Don’t be proud. Call.

Students—About Your Essay Roadblocks

by Patrick O'Connor, Ph.D.

Seniors, at this point, the biggest current hangup for many of you in the college application process is the essays. Not every college requires them, but those that do want you to show them who you are—and that’s a different kind of writing than what you do in English class.

A quick guide on an approach to essay writing is here. In addition, let’s talk about the three roadblocks you’re probably facing now.

First—Word limits It’s hard enough to write about yourself without having to do it in only 600 words, or 500 words, or 150 words. Your best bet is to just write what you want to say, count your words when you’re done, and edit from there. If you need help, find an English teacher who knows you well (who won’t treat your essay like it’s a book report), and bring armloads of chocolate when you bring them your work.

If you’re still worried word limits kill your chances of saying something important, I offer this evidence to ease your concern:

The Gettysburg Address  Lincoln spoke to a modest crowd in the darkest days of the Civil War, and gave all of America hope, in 252 words.

The Ten Commandments Found in variations in both other religions and in non-religious moral codes, this is one compass for clean living. 323 words. (A close second is attributed to the Cherokee. 31 words.)

Lou Gehrig’s Farewell Speech  He set an astounding record for most consecutive baseball games played, until illness took him from the game too soon. Faced with all that, he moved all of baseball to tears when he said “I consider myself the luckiest man on the face of the earth”. 272 words.

The Speech at Caesar’s Funeral  Shakespeare’s take on how Marc Antony’s words turned the tide of a nation in just 268 words.

“We the People”  The founders of our country had to justify why they took the colonies through a revolutionary war that was fought in America’s backyards, all in one paragraph. They did it. 52 words.

Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening  Was Frost writing about how busy he was, or was he contemplating his age? Ask your English teacher when you take your essay drafts to them. 108 words. (Tempted to write your essay in poetry? Make sure you show it to a teacher.)

The Old Pond If I had my way, students would write 50 haiku before writing a single college essay. Three lines and seventeen syllables to say something wonderful. Matsuo Basho is considered a master. 13 words. (If you can write a great haiku for a “Why Us?” essay of 150 words, you’re in. But that’s because it’s really, really hard to do.)

Shake it Off  It gave birth to a new wave of girl power, all in about 4 minutes—and in about 595 words.

Second—Time Limits if you’re looking at a November 15 application deadline, Handel could wait 3 more days from today before starting on Messiah, and still make the deadline—and he went waaaaaay over 600 words.

Third—Content You haven’t climbed Everest or cured cancer—but have you flown on a plane? My student was the only passenger who spoke Spanish besides two unaccompanied children under 10, who were coming to America. They bonded, he got them to their family at the airport, and wrote an essay on the event that the dean of admissions at an Ivy said was the best he’d read in two years.

You have a story. You don’t need someone else’s story. Tell it.

Writing Great Teacher Letters

by Patrick O'Connor, Ph.D.

For many students, teacher recommendations play a key role in a complete and timely college application—and that can be challenging. Most students go to schools where teachers have 150 or more students in a semester. That makes it hard to write a letter for two reasons:

• Finding the time to write the letter
• Getting to know the student well enough to write a letter of substance

Talking with colleges and high school counselors, some key ideas emerge to help teachers write the best possible letters.

As their counselor, advise students early Good teacher letters are written for students who engage teachers in the learning process by asking questions, leading group discussions, and doing strong work. Encourage students at the start of junior year to consider what teachers they’d like as writers, so they can nurture that relationship. It leads to better learning, better stories, and better letters.

Timing the request Most students ask academic teachers from 11th grade for letters ( “Can you write me a good letter of recommendation?”) Asking in spring of junior year makes it easy to have that conversation, and to provide the teacher with any information they might need. It also gives teachers the opportunity to write letters over the summer, when they aren’t teaching. This increases the likelihood the teacher will write a richer letter, one that includes examples of working with the student, not simply adjectives.

Responding to the request Teachers often find it hard to turn down a request for a letter, even if they don’t know the student well. But if the teacher can only write a letter that says “Nice kid, good teeth”, the goal of a good teacher letter hasn’t been achieved—and could even hurt the student’s chances of admission in the process. 

“I’m honored you asked, but I’m not sure we know each other well enough for me to write the kind of letter you need” can begin this tough conversation. It’s wise to remind teachers that, if they end up having a conversation like this, they let you know, since the student may need some regrouping and reassurance from you.

Brag sheets The goal of the teacher letter is to answer the question, “What is it like to work with this student on a regular basis?” Writing that the student was on the track team or the star in the school play takes away from this goal. If the summary addresses questions like “What did you get out of my class?”, “Describe two memorable moments from my class”, or “Why did you ask me to write about you?”, this request makes sense. Otherwise, it could take the letter in an unhelpful, and unsuccessful, direction.

The teacher telling the student “You write the letter, and I’ll sign it” Since the goal of the letter is to express the teacher’s view of the student—not the student’s view of themselves—this is a bad idea.

Teachers using the same letter for more than one student I’m betting you know the answer to this one already.

Teachers using AI If they must (not a great idea, IMHO), the teacher should first write on their own, then send it through AI for suggestions. In reviewing them,, the question to ask is “Do I really feel this way about the student?”

Showing students the letter This opens the teacher up to “edits” from students, parents, and essay coaches that are unwelcome. The letter is written about the student, not to the student. If the student doesn't trust what they think the teacher will say, the teacher should decline the offer.

New Chapters for College Admissions Advocates

by Patrick O'Connor, Ph.D.

The last forty years have brought new attention and dizzying changes to where students apply to college and how colleges admit students. While many of these changes are due to technology, others can be identified with an innovator, one person who looked at this interesting world and said, well, OK, but what about?

Four of those thought leaders have moved on to new chapters this year after a lifetime of service to college admissions. The vast majority of their work went unnoticed, but its effect did not—so it seems only fitting to give them a well-deserved curtain call.

Jon Boeckenstedt served as an enrollment manager and vice president at several colleges. Along the way, Jon’s ability to look at college admissions through a “what if” lens had several iterations, with the largest of those involving data—who applied, who got in, what are colleges looking for, what’s really going on with college tuition, and more.

In a field where everyone is swamped with too much to do and too little time to do it, Jon kept his institutions running like a top and earning the highest respect of his peers. He also found the time to tinker with data analytics in leading edge-ways, and shared his results with others—often having to show the rest of us how to read his results. Here’s hoping one data disciple of Jon’s will pick up his hefty mantle, maintaining Jon’s grounded approach to the field.

David Hawkins has been a key shaper and negotiator of public policy and more in college admissions through his 25 years of work with the National Association for College Admissions Counseling. NACAC isn’t a household name, but its efforts to expand college opportunity and federal funding for college are legendary in Washington, largely thanks to David. Respect for his work is due in part to his ability to hold AI-like volumes of knowledge at his fingertips. The other part comes from his understated approach to his work, and his willingness to bring hundreds of policy newbies into the process, always having time for even the most basic of questions.

David retires from NACAC this December. Here’s hoping he either goes into consulting, writes a book, or both.

Bob Morse is credited with the rise in popularity of the US News college rankings, and was known for not shying away from his detractors, staying true to his vision of what a college is all about. Bob’s work made people pay attention to college admissions who might not have given it a second thought, giving admissions offices and high school counselors alike ample opportunities to reconsider or recommit themselves to their own vision of college opportunity. His work led other organizations to develop rankings, each with its own criteria.

Fred Rugg authored one of the original, and most beloved, college guides. Unlike other guides, this one didn’t rank colleges, focusing instead on colleges that were known to have strong programs in specific majors. This approach left students and counselors/advisors free to consider other components of college exploration—but given how many students start a search by major, Fred’s work gave most students a huge head start.

Fred added other publications to his beloved Rugg’s Recommendations on the Colleges, offering his insights on how to approach the college selection process. This made Fred America’s college counselor in a time when national vision was in short supply. His approach was rich with vision and humanity, essential qualities now up to us to maintain in this data-rich environment.

A Word About College Essay Styles

by Patrick O'Connor, Ph.D.

Students, you amaze me. You love to share your opinions. I know this, because you share them everywhere—Chattersnap, Gramphoto, and all the rest of those social media sites I know nothing about, other than you use them because you love to talk about yourselves.

Except when it comes to college essays. 

If I asked you for 650 words on your impressions of Permission to Dance, you’d go on for weeks. But colleges want 650 words about your favorite place in the world, and you say things like “The library. Gotta love that big dictionary.”

Permission denied.

Your college wants you to come to campus, talk with them for three hours, eat lunch, and go home. If they did admissions that way, they’d probably get great students—and by the time they were done interviewing everyone, each of those students would be 45 years old.

So you aren’t writing essays—you’re having a conversation, except you’re putting what you have to say on paper. That means you’ll want to do this:

Stop guessing. When a college asks “Name a problem you’d like to solve”, there’s no one right answer for everybody. Cure cancer? Great. The need for your mother to work three jobs? Absolutely. The squeak in your garage door? That can work, too—as long as it means something to you, and you can convey that meaning. This isn’t Algebra; you get to decide what the answer is, and why it makes sense. Put it down on paper, put the commas in the right place, and you’re good to go.

Tell a story. Remember the time you told your best friend about the first concert you went to, or the best pizza you ever ate? You were on fire at the end of the story, genuinely excited at the chance to share part of your life with them. That’s how you should feel once you’re done writing a college essay. This isn’t a speech you give to thousands of people; it’s a story that means something to you, and you’re telling it to someone who really wants to hear it. Save the speech; tell the tale.

Head or heart? Some students think the key to a great essay is to pack it with facts that make you sound like a brainiac, while others say the college will only beg you to come if they need a whole box of tissues to get through your essay. Life is a little of both, and so are college essays. Show the colleges what you think about, and why it means something to you. This will let them know you’re past the drama and trauma of teenagehood, and eager to embrace the tasks of becoming a thoughtful, caring adult.

Answer the question. If the college asks “Who do you admire?” and they still don’t know your answer once they’ve read your essay, you’ve given them one more reason to reject you. Ducking the question may work in Washington, but it doesn’t play well in admissions offices. If they want to know, you need to tell them.

Your goal is to write an essay that sounds so much like a conversation, they’ll be surprised you aren’t in the room with them when they’re finished reading it.

Kind of like Gramphoto. But with words.