By Ashley Wellington
Every year, most colleges receive tens of thousands of applications from students who have comparable grades and test scores. In fact, over 3,000 valedictorians vied for the 2,000 or so Harvard acceptance letters in 2008, and I can only imagine these students’ SAT scores were equally high; if everyone looks the same on paper, there have to be some distinguishing factors at play. The numbers are, of course, very important. You have to hit certain benchmarks to even be considered, but once you’re in the top percentile arena, other aspects of your application become infinitely more important.
You’ve probably noticed by now that I emphasize the significance of college essays whenever I can. I made some of these points in my discussion of “SAT-Optional” schools, but I want to reiterate that all schools have their own unique personalities and cultures, and it’s essential that an incoming freshman be a good fit for the campus. As Associate Dean of Admissions at the University of Virginia Parke Muth told USA Today back in 2008, “If you have 18- or 20,000 applicants, for some of those students, the essay makes a huge difference, both positively and negatively.” Accordingly, the admissions committee reads every single essay in an attempt to decipher the student’s voice and personality. Colleges want to see how a student stands out from the crowd. They want insight into personality, spark, drive, sense of humor, kindness, and other skills and characteristics that don’t necessarily manifest themselves in a transcript.
I’m not telling you to fundamentally change who you are or to adopt a hobby that is tedious and unnatural for you; rather, I want you to cultivate the unique, possibly even eccentric interests you may have. When I got into Princeton (back in the day) my dad received a phone call from a colleague who was curious about how I’d done it. “Is she a concert pianist?” he wanted to know. “Has she published a book? Won an Olympic medal?” Recently, I had a very similar conversation with the parents of a sixth grade student, who asked, “What was your IN?” These are such strange questions because the process is arbitrary and my application was probably just read at the right time on the right day, but I did write poems instead of essays, and perhaps this was unusual enough to make a difference.
This past year, I had a student who was extremely bright, and who could have written about any of the summer math contests and language immersion programs he’d completed. Instead, he chose to write about the charity fashion show he’d started at his school, as well as his love of couture design. It was descriptive, sincere, and most importantly, wholly unexpected. In high school, I had a friend who loved tinkering with bikes. He turned this pastime into a community service organization that refurbished old bicycles and re-gifted them, eventually garnering national attention. I also know of a girl who transformed her love of tie-dyeing into a small business venture and used this entrepreneurial experience as the topic of a very successful essay. The point is, you don’t have to be a concert pianist who publishes novels and wins Olympic medals (and if you are, congratulations on being unbelievably awesome); you just need to emphasize the aspects of your personality that are purely and unapologetically you. Think of how you can turn random things you enjoy (paleontology, sewing, painting murals, creating recipes, fixing cars, etc.) into something bigger and more meaningful. The rest of your application can testify to your academic potential, but your essay needs to show character, incentive and individuality.
