Wednesday, May 21, 2025

First Client, Last Client

by Patrick O'Connor, Ph.D.

My first client didn’t mean to, but she taught me everything I needed to know about being a college counselor. She had made the most out of what she could with a limited rural school curriculum, her great grades, limited scores, and, as I recall, a national and international title as a powerlifter. My job was to sign the application and send out the transcript. She was admitted to her first-choice school in October. After that, our relationship was a series of encounters in the hallways, when she kindly waved and smiled whenever our paths crossed.


That’s really the way it’s supposed to be for every student. I never met her before twelfth grade, and never had a chance to “shape” her extracurricular “portfolio” (I still don’t know what that means). She showed up to ninth grade, studied what she wanted to study, lifted seriously massive objects because it was fun, and found a college that said “That sounds great to us, come on down.” At that time, and at that school, kids drove the postsecondary bus, and thought enough about life after high school to put together a good plan, all without test prep, private counselors, or parents who lost sleep about it all.


I wish I could say that about everywhere I worked, but it’s a little tough to work in American suburbs without becoming a victim of America’s obsession with name colleges. One school was ripe with nouveau riche middle managers of a local car manufacturer. Their version of college counseling was getting their student in the best state school, since it was a name institution, and especially since it was a bargain. Building lists based on student interests and ability was anathema — my job was to “work my magic” with State U’s admissions officers, just like all good college counselors did, I guess.


In time, that part of the job seemed to overtake most of the other work, until my last employer made it clear there wasn’t room in their college counseling program for an approach where the first question I asked students was “So, what’s next?”


I got an October call from a former student, now a mom, who had supported my work in many ways over the years. One of her kids was transferring colleges, and only needed help with essays — so, was I up for a Zoom call? Too many recent essay sessions had students expecting to take dictation from me — but this Mom had been a friend in the trenches, so I succumbed to a 45-minute session.


75 minutes later, I remembered why I went into college counseling. She brought ideas, themes, and questions, and responded to my comments with questions and challenges of her own. She clearly had the answer to “what’s next” in her soul, and wanted to know the best way to express it. That had been my job all along, and getting to do it one last time — the last time — was a gift beyond measure.


Eight weeks later, I got a text saying she had been admitted as a transfer student in a tough applicant pool to the same college those McMansion parents coveted — but she wasn’t applying to some name school for a name diploma. She was on her way to life’s next steps, and providing what little help I did left a glow that stays with me this day.


Thank you, dear God, for this good life, and forgive us if we do not love it enough. 




Wednesday, May 14, 2025

Staying in Touch This Summer

by Patrick O'Connor, Ph.D.

A wise principal once told me how funny he thought it was when parents said June was the month when schools wrapped things up. “We don’t wrap things up” he said, “we run off a cliff.”


It sure feels like that this year. With colleges making all kinds of changes in admissions policies, the inside of our work continues to get more school specific. With policy changes and programmatic cuts, support systems for our work—especially in the federal government—are changing daily.


All this is to say that, for those of us who get a summer that is supposed to be restorative, there is a challenge this summer. On the one hand, we need the rest, and the salmon river, pile of books, and RVs are calling our names like never before. On the other hand, if we close the office door and vow not to open it until mid-August, we could be begging for a deluge of changes we won’t be prepared for.


How do we handle these seemingly opposite callings? By doing what counselors do best—being all things to all people.


Admissions offices changes Barely a day went by in the school year without a college announcing they were heading back to requiring the SAT, or that they were adding an essay, or or or. That’s the kind of information counselors need to swallow one small bit at a time during the school year, since you’re building lists with underclassmen, and you’re making sure the lists you developed with seniors are still relevant.


That’s a little different in the summer. Yes, your rising seniors have college lists that need to be kept current; on the other hand, does it really matter all that much if you find out Cornell has a new testing policy on July 16th rather than the 12th? When it comes to checking office contacts, once a week (fortnight?) should more than do the trick. If a student reaches out with information that, in your opinion (not theirs) is urgent, you can certainly take action. But letting them know when and how you’re staying in touch with the office can build their expectations in ways that are healthy for you and for them. 


Government and agency policy changes The federal government has a reputation for slowing things down during the summer as well, and it’s safe to say that the tempest of cutthroat reform that started in the Department of Education in February has slowed to a trickle now, thanks in part to court rulings that funding promised by Congress can only be removed by Congress.


This means you don’t have to spend your summer listening to the latest news updates at the top of every hour—in fact, it likely means you can cut your ration of news updates to one a week and learn everything you need to know for the summer. Since most funding changes affect districts, year-round employees are around to stay on top of whatever updates may occur—and if they need you, they know where to get hold of you.


The only possible area you need to stay focused on is financial aid, but that’s been remarkably stable so far. Find one good source to check weekly , and you’ll be able to help seniors stay focused on their college transition.


Counselors are exceptionally good at keeping students first, and that matters—but so does having the perspective and energy to do this task with purpose. Staying in touch with trends without driving yourself crazy this summer is manageable, even after this incredibly unique school year.



Wednesday, May 7, 2025

College Isn’t for Everyone? Um…

by Patrick O'Connor, Ph.D.

The legislative hearings were focusing on a very simple idea — in order to graduate from high school, a student would either have to complete the FAFSA, or fill out a form saying they’d thought about it and they didn’t see any reason to fill out the FAFSA, so they’re waiving the requirement. Testimony was running the way it usually does; advocates were saying many students and families didn’t know enough about financial aid to make an informed decision, so the FAFSA could help them better understand what they were getting into. Those opposed were saying this would be an intrusion on privacy, and create a bottleneck in school counselor offices.


And then along came a new argument, on made by a counselor in a tone that was so hesitant, it was as if they were apologizing for advancing it in the first place.


“We have to think about the kids who aren’t going to college” she said. “Do we really want to give them one more reason to feel bad about themselves?”


I thought about that question today, as I read the first of what is sure to be a number of articles that always come out this time of year that address the of going to college. In the past I’ve read these articles hoping they would address the mindset students have about life after high school — that what they choose to do is based on careful consideration of their talents, their interests, their vocational interests, their performance in school to date, and their resources. Taking on the question of “what’s next” seems daunting and abstract to tenth graders, and with good reason — they may not have thought about it before. But, if nothing else, a well-put-together college counseling program breaks that abstract question into manageable chunks, laying a little of both the foundation and the scaffolding each student needs to build by the start of senior year to pronounce their foundation for the future as solid, even though it may not be permanent.


Instead, I got more of the same inference I get from these articles — they insist that yes, it is more than OK for students not to go to college, often in an argument that assures us they can still make a living and contribute to society without a college degree. Yet, more often than not, and despite their best efforts, every one of these articles accepts the assumption that college is the normal choice, and not going is therefore abnormal; that students passing up college are rolling the dice at some level, making their lives unstable from this day forward.


That’s pretty scary, since it suggests that more than a few school counselors are presenting their life-after-high-school curriculum with a built-in bias, one that assumes life, at some corner, awaits nothing but worst for a student who doesn’t go to college. If that weren’t the case — if the counselor who was giving this testimony really didn’t feel that way —then every student would get to senior year with confidence in their choice and in their future. To them, saying “no thanks” to the FAFSA is like saying no to anchovies on a pizza. Anchovies may be right for someone else, but it’s just not their thing. Next.


This is the time of year many counselors review their curriculum to make sure next year’s students are even better served. When it comes to postsecondary counseling, let’s make sure we aren’t seeing students who say no to college as vulnerable or incomplete. It’s more likely your postsecondary curriculum is incomplete, so focus on fixing that instead.