Hope for the New Year

Listen to the audio version here.

Happy New Year! Welcome to 2019. Over the break I was thinking about how great it was to be a kid during the holiday season: time off from school; presents; lots of sweets; and family around to spoil you. As a parent… not so much. Maybe I’m doing something wrong but my holidays were filled with doing dishes, spending money, and negotiating family and neighbor dynamics.

I also had several lengthy conversations with friends whose 12th grade students are going through the college admission experience now. Some of the most frequent words I heard were: stressed, nervous, unsure, and scared.

Happy New YearIronically, as I was taking down holiday cards I kept running across words like joy, light, and–the most popular– hope. So, since the new year is about believing in and creating a better future, and because parents are usually the ones sending, rather than receiving, the notes at this time of year, I wanted to write you my admissions letter of hope as we kick off the New Year.

Dear Parents,

As your student goes through the college admission process, I hope you will have the vision to help them start by asking why they want to go to college, the patience to listen and thoughtfully consider their answers, and the wisdom to keep bringing them back to those guiding responses as they apply, receive decisions, and ultimately select a school to attend.

I hope you will allow their goals and hopes–rather than an arbitrary list, the opinions of others, the culture of your school or community, a rankings guide with subjective methodology, or outdated stereotypes–to lead your exploration.

I hope you will be the example in your community. At times the swirling discussions about college and gossip about admissions will be unhealthy and unproductive. I hope you will recognize these moments and either remove yourself entirely or redirect the conversation.

Be the exampleI hope you will be the example on social media. You are going to see some terribly misinformed opinions, negative banter, catty comments, and bold-faced lies. I hope you will not engage in that dialogue online and take opportunities in-person to re-center the conversation with your friends, neighbors, or relatives. Strongly consider not posting anything about your child’s college search or admission experience, unless you think it could be beneficial to others online.  My hope is you will use your platform to be encouraging, positive, and reassuring—provide healthy and desperately needed perspective when discussions go off the rails and fan the flames of anxiety.

I hope you will be the example for your family. Try to back away when you are at a college visit or information session and let your student ask their questions of a tour guide or an admission counselor. In a short year or two, they will be on a college campus. They need to be able to advocate for themselves to professors and navigate internship or job interviews. I hope you will see this as an opportunity to prepare them for success in a future chapter.

I hope that will go for a walk or a drive when you hear yourself say things like “We are taking the SAT next weekend,” or “Our first choice is Boulder.” Ask yourself if those pronouns are just a reflection of your love and 17 years of intimately intertwined lives, or if they are a subtle indication you should step back and let your student demonstrate what you know they are capable of handling. Parenting is a delicate dance, but it is one you know well. Be honest with yourself and you will know when to take the lead and when to step back. You got this!

Trust your child’s ability to articulate points and express themselves effectively in writing for colleges. My hope is you will ask questions about college essays and make helpful edits or suggestions, rather than re-write their work by inserting words like “blissful” or “propitious.”

You are going to see inequities. You will see students “get in” with lower scores. The kid down the street/ the blue chip athlete/ the son of a major donor/ (insert unthinkable prototype here) is going to receive offers or scholarships or opportunities that your student does not. You are going to read online, or see on social media videos, pictures, comments, and posts about neighbors or students in your school or community who by every measure you observe do not seem “as good as” or “as qualified as” your kid.

Each year after decisions go out, admission officers receive fuming phone calls, vitriolic emails, threats, accusations of bias or conspiracy, and expletive-laden rants. These are never from students. I hope when you are tempted to “come down there” you will take a deep breath and (when necessary) bite your lip. When you get upset or frustrated or angry, my hope is you remember those emotions are a manifestation of your love. More than they need you pulling strings or filling out appeal forms, they simply need to hear you tell them you love them and you are proud of them.

Hope

I hope you will encourage your student to enjoy their final months (or years for parents of juniors/sophomores) in high school. Remind them to keep perspective when a test does not go well or a final grade is lower than they hoped. Keep making time to get to their games, shows, recitals, etc., and hug them even when they pretend like they don’t care or need it. My hope is you will truly enjoy this unique, and all too short, chapter of life.

Make every effort to get out of your local admission echo chamber. Take time to look at the Fortune 500 or Fortune 100 lists of companies and their CEOs. Most come from schools that are not categorized as highly selective. Go back and re-read Frank Bruni’s book Where You Go Is Not Who You’ll Be. Listen to the many stories your own friends and colleagues have about their own college experience. They will tell you about how they did not get into their top choice or could not afford to attend a certain school, and now 20-30 years after graduating, they would not have it any other way.

Talk to parents who have kids in college. Ask them to reflect on their experience. Inevitably, you will hear them say they wish they had not stressed as much. They will tell you about their daughter who was not admitted to her first choice school, ended up elsewhere, and is thriving now. They will go into great detail about how their son did not receive the merit scholarship he had been hoping for, selected another option from his choices, and now has an incredible internship and a girlfriend (who they actually like) that he never would have met otherwise.

I understand that as a parent the college admission experience seems incredibly complicated because it is filled with a myriad of dates and deadlines. It seems confusing because the mainstream press and pervasive how-to guides regularly provide incomplete and frequently inaccurate data. It seems consuming because friends and colleagues incessantly share their “inside” information and stories (or the alleged stories of relatives twice removed) on social media. It seems confounding because those same friends and colleagues, while adamant, have widely divergent experiences and opinions they are quick to share each time they see you at the school, store, or stadium. It seems complex because colleges and universities all have different processes, review different factors, and operate on different timelines.

After watching this cycle repeat itself for two decades, I am convinced it seems this way because people are too focused on “getting in” when they should simply be committed to staying together.

Ultimately, my biggest hope is that no matter where your college admission journey leads you, you’ll keep telling your kids three things: I love you. I trust you. I am proud of you.

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Handling That Moment

Listen to “Episode 28: Handling That Moment (Receiving a Denial) – Rick Clark” on Spreaker.

After the Preparation Day blog last week, I got some very positive and encouraging notes. I also got this one, “Sure. It’s easy to write about the kids who still have a chance, but what about those who are denied?” I took this to mean he either thought I was avoiding the subject or I did not have personal experience with it. Well, “Steve G.,” this one’s for you.

She was beautiful. Not Hollywood, head-turning, magazine cover, so-perfect-you-question-if-it-is-real beauty. Truly beautiful—in personality, intelligence, humor, and kindness. Beauty you saw when you met her, but that was made perfect—that  you fell in love with—when  you got to really know her. And I knew her. In fact, I’d known her since we were five. But we’d never had a moment like this.

You know the moment I’m talking about, right? You did take that pledge in last week’s post, didn’t you? You’ve prepared yourself for “no”? Well, I hadn’t.

“This isn’t working out.” We were juniors in high school and I was at her house working on math homework. “Don’t worry,” I said. “We will figure it out.” Then she paused and slowly put her pencil down. “No,” she said kindly, but definitively. “This. Us. It’s not working out.”

NoI could not quote you one thing my kids or my boss or any of my friends said to me in the past week, but I remember her words verbatim. It was like a movie, when all noises suddenly stop and things go black. Yeah… It was that moment.

It comes in relationships, jobs, and college admission. At some point, this moment comes for us all.

I really can’t remember what I said. Maybe nothing. All I remember is getting my bag and stumbling out of the door. Windows down. Music up. I screamed a messy blur of questions, anger, and tears.

Walking into the house, I was hoping to see nobody. Instead, my mom was doing dishes in the kitchen. I wanted to talk to nobody. Instead, we sat on the couch and she told me everything was going to be okay… there would be other girls… and maybe I was better off anyway.

Handling That Moment…

Last week we covered that you need to be prepared to hear “no.” I definitely don’t have all the answers but if you open a letter or portal or online account and find yourself in one of those moments, here are a couple things to remember.

You’re Not Okay. Go ahead and scream, cry, beat your pillow, cook or eat a lot of something (do all of those at once if you’re really upset). You do you. Whatever it takes to begin clearing your head. Mad? Sad? Frustrated? Disappointed? I get it. She was beautiful. She was amazing. It takes some time to get over that.

You Will Be Okay. If you are reading this before “that moment” you are thinking, “Yeah, I know.” If you are reading this afterwards, you are probably like, “Just let me keep on beating my pillow while I’m eating.”  You are probably thinking what I was with my mom that night, “How would you know? You never had your heart broken. You just woke up one day, married dad, and then had me, right?”

I’m telling you. She was beautiful. But I had convinced myself she was perfect.  If you find yourself in that moment, I hope you will have the clarity to know—or the willingness to hear your friends or parents or coaches remind you—of the truth: nobody is perfect. No college is either.

Here is the thing: every year—EVERY YEAR—we talk to current students (even tour guides!) who say Georgia Tech was not their first choice. They did not get in to their top school, or they could not afford another place, or a myriad of other reasons. But they ended up here and cannot imagine being anywhere else.

I also frequently hear from younger siblings or parents or counselors about a student we denied, and while devastated in the moment, is now loving (insert college name here) and doing great.

The truth(s) about being denied…

Note: We are going to move into some statistics and broader forces now, so if you are still in scream-mode, just come back when you are ready.

Truth #1: It’s not fair. All metaphors eventually break down, and we’ve come to that point. When my girlfriend broke up with me, it was personal. She couldn’t say, “It’s not you, it’s me.” Nope. It was me. But for colleges it is about them. Let’s use Georgia Tech as an example. As a public school, we have an obligation to serve our state. Therefore, 60% of our undergraduate students are from Georgia. Ultimately, we anticipate Georgia applicants will only make up about 16% of our overall applicant pool, and their admit rate will be well over double that of students from out of state, and triple that of students from abroad. Translation: it is easier to “get in” from Georgia.

In other words, you may get denied by a school based on where you are from or what you want to study or because they are trying to grow this or that and you happen to be that and this.truth

Another comment I got after last week’s blog was from my friend Pam A., a college counselor here in Atlanta: “the way admission decisions FEEL is so different from how they are MADE.” Bam. That is spot on. It is fine to feel disappointed or mad or upset. Just be sure you understand a decision is not a prediction of your future success or potential. An admission decision is not an indictment of your character or a criticism of your ability.

Truth #2: Appealing is highly doubtful. Yes, you are entitled to appeal an admission decision. The truth is almost none of these are successful. If you appeal, be sure to read the conditions of a “reasonable appeal.” You can use Tech’s as an example. Typically valid reasons include not having your correct transcript or receiving inaccurate or incomplete grading information. Major medical situations or severe life circumstances you neglected to include in your application may also be reviewed as valid. “Really wanting to go” or because that was the only place you applied or because everyone in your family has gone there… not valid.

One of my colleagues puts it this way, “If you decide to appeal, you need to be prepared to be denied again.” That sounds cold. But the truth is like that sometimes. Actually, the truth is like that a lot.

Truth #3: You need to be realistic and move on. This may sound familiar but the bottom line is that, if you have not already, you need to submit a few more applications to schools with higher admit rates and lower academic profiles than the one that denied you. Get back to school. Finish this semester well because schools you apply to in Regular Decision will be looking extremely close at final fall semester grades.

Get back to your team, your job, your clubs, and your family. Take some time to look around at practice or over the holiday break at the relationships you have built. Be reminded of the community you created and the bond, closeness, and sense of belonging you feel. They want you with them. They love having you as part of it all. Being denied sucks. I feel your pain (still do, when I really look back on it).

“Preparing yourself for no” means looking at a deny not as a hard stop, but rather as a pivot. People think they are looking for the perfect college. You need to be looking for the perfect mentality.

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Preparation Day

Listen to Preparation Day on the College Admission Brief podcast!: Spreaker | Spotify | Apple Podcasts

On Sunday my son and I went to the Atlanta United Eastern Conference Championship game against the New York Red Bulls. During the tailgate, I got a text from a friend that read:  “My daughter was deferred. We were SHOCKED! What does that really mean?” (FYI this was another school’s decision. If you are waiting on EA decisions from Tech, you have not missed anything.)

My first thought was, “Really? You were shocked? You know their profile and admit rate.” My second thought was, “I’ll deal with this on Monday,” and I put my phone on do not disturb (because that’s the kind of friend I am).

About 30 minutes later I was talking to another friend. He has one kid in college and two still in high school. He told me that after watching his older son go through the admission process he has been telling his current high school senior who is applying to colleges to be prepared to hear “no.” The dichotomy between these two approaches was both striking and instructive. More importantly, it made me realize we need to add another key date to the admission calendar.

August 1- Many colleges open their application.

October 1- FAFSA opens.

November 1- EA/ED Deadlines at lots of colleges and universities.

May 1- National Deposit Deadline.

PreparationSo, by the power vested in me (which is none, by the way) I pronounce December 1 as National Preparation Day!

By or on this day, henceforth, any high school senior applying Early Action or Early Decision to a college with an admit rate of less than 50 percent must put their hand on a large, preferably leather-bound book of some kind and take this pledge:

“I, (state your name), being of sound (though overly caffeinated) mind and (sleep-deprived) body, do hereby swear that I will not presume anything in the admission process. Upon advice of my wizened counselor sages, I acknowledge that I will not look at middle 50 percent ranges and expect that my scores, though in the top quartile, guarantee my admittance.

I will not look at middle 50 percent ranges of hitherto admitted classes and expect my scores, though in the bottom quartile, will be overlooked based on my amazing essay, parents’ connections, pictures of me in a onesie from that college, or the 12 letters of recommendation that have been sent on my behalf.

I understand the heretofore explicated concept of holistic admission is neither fair nor perfect, wherein I will likely not agree with, nor be capable of predicting all results, despite the complex algorithms I employ or the kingdom fortune tellers I visit.

Furthermore, I agree that I will not view an admission decision as an indictment of my character, a judgment on my hitherto demonstrated preparation, nor a prediction of my future success.”

Note: Slightly misused Olde English conjunctions does not negate the spirit nor effectiveness of this pledge.

So What Does Defer Mean?

Back to my friend who’s daughter was deferred… what does defer actually mean, and what do you do with that decision?

It means you have some work to do.

You need to send in your fall grades. You may need to write an additional essay or tell the admission committee more about your senior year extracurricular activities. Defer is a “hold on.” It is a “maybe.” Don’t like those characterizations? Fine—call it “tell us more.” They will be looking at how you’ve done in a challenging senior schedule, or if your upward grade trend will continue, or if you can juggle more responsibility outside the classroom with your course load. Bottom line is you have work to do. Are you going to get admitted in the next round? No promises. But if getting deferred is what helps keep you focused and motivated, you should look at their decision as a good thing. Finish well.

It means you may need to submit another application or two. 

If you’ve already got this covered, that’s great. You were ahead of Preparation Day. If not, then good news—many great schools have deadlines in January. The bottom line is you need applications in at a few schools with higher admit rates and lower academic profiles than the one that deferred you.

It means holistic review is a real thing.

If your scores and grades are above their profile and they defer you, they only proved what they said in their publications and presentations—admission is about more than numbers. At Georgia Tech we are knee-deep in application review. We have not released decisions, but day in and day out we are slating students for defer who have ACT scores of 35 or 36 and great grades. Is that “shocking?” It shouldn’t be. Institutional priorities, shaping a class, and supply and demand drive admission decisions. Similarly, if your scores are in the middle or below their profile, a defer also proves decisions are made using more than just numbers.

It means you need to check your ego and wait.

Does that sound harsh? Sorry—but sometimes, life is harsh. This is why you should take the pledge. It’s why have formally added Preparation Day to the admission calendar. Take the Pledge(Someone update the NACAC website!) If you are prepared for “no,” then a defer will not rock you as bad. Admission decisions feel personal. How could they not? Nobody loves spending a few more months in limbo. But this is not about you. This is about schools who are hedging their bets and wanting to evaluate you in context of their overall pool. Kind of sucks. I get it. But too many students do not send in fall grades, complete the deferred form, or send other information schools ask for because they’ve never heard of a “maybe” ( perhaps the first they’ve ever heard). Think of the admission experience as your first foray into your college years and start looking at maybes as good things. If you liked a school enough to apply, finish the drill. Give them reasons to admit you in the next round. It is called an admission process. There are rounds for a reason. Don’t go halfway and stop.

It means you need to look forward, not backward.

I was not going to text my friend back and say defer means to “put off or delay,” but technically that is the definition. For you it means to look forward to something in the future. DO NOT look back! DO NOT second guess whether you should have taken AP Geography in the ninth grade instead of band, or blame Mr. Thompson for giving you an 89 instead of a 93 that would have bumped your GPA by .00083. This is your MARTA bus moment.

It means control what you can control. 

People want so desperately to predict and analyze admission decisions that are influenced by macro institutional goals and made in rooms they will never enter. Defer means stay focused on the micro. This is your one and only senior year.  Do well—but more importantly do good. Don’t worry about those rooms hundreds of miles away, but rather the ones you walk into every day. Be a good friend. Be a good sibling. Be a good teammate. Go thank a teacher that wrote a recommendation for you. Hug your mama.

December 1 is coming. Preparation Day. Take the pledge.

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In Defense of the Treadmill

This week we welcome Communications Officer (and former Assistant Director of Admission) Becky Tankersley back to the blog. Welcome, Becky!

About a month ago I ran my first 5k. For a little perspective, I have never, ever, been a runner. In fact, I have always been very anti-running, and would often wonder why would anyone want to run.

I’ve always enjoyed exercise, but I fell off the fitness wagon for a few years (something about babies and toddlers…). In August I heard the wakeup call and realized it was time to take better care of myself. I researched several different options, from gyms to Cross Fit to a variety of video subscription services. I settled on, of all things, running.

Running was the one option that didn’t require a membership, I could do on my own time, and didn’t cost a fortune. After talking to friends who run (running is popular here in Atlanta, which means I’m surrounded by a lot of seasoned, passionate runners), I signed up for a race, chose a Couch to 5k plan (there are a few different variations), bought a new pair of shoes, and started training.

When I first started I used the treadmill. All I had to do was get up, get dressed, and run in the comfort of my own home. But as I shared updates on my progress, my runner friends would lament about the treadmill: “I hate the treadmill!” “Ugh, the treadmill is the worst!” “I would never run if I had to do it on a treadmill every day.”

I was a bit confused because I thought the treadmill was great. Now that I’ve transitioned to running outside, I do see their point. Running outside is much more pleasant—especially the fresh air and changes in scenery. But I’m here to take up for the treadmill. It gets a bad rap, but I wouldn’t have been successful without it.

Rinse and Repeat

What does the treadmill have to do with high school and college? As a senior, you may feel like your days are spent on a treadmill—wake up, go to school, participate in activities, eat dinner, finish homework, sleep. Rinse and repeat. Life is fairly repetitive. When you see the same scenery every day you start to wonder when you get to jump off and actually go somewhere.

I get it—you’re eager to finish high school and get on with life—ready to put the admission process behind you and step into the “real” world. Real life, like a race, happens outside—in the elements—where very little can be controlled. When you run outside you can’t control the weather, the course (including the ups and downs, aka the hills!), or how many obstacles are between you and the finish line. There’s excitement and anticipation as you get ready to step up to the starting line.

So how can you find appreciation for the monotony of the treadmill when you’re so eager to get off it? It comes down to perspective, and recognizing it as a crucial part of preparation and training. Here are a few things to keep in mind:

The treadmill is safe.

The treadmill is a safety net as you get started. You’re able to control your pace, and you always know what’s next—whether it’s an increase in speed or the incline—because you choose it. You can run at a certain speed, but also find moments to push harder or throttle back. Your senior year is similar—you pretty much know what’s next when it comes to classes and other responsibilities. You’ve developed a good routine, and you know just how far you can push yourself without getting overwhelmed. This safety zone gradually builds you up until the time comes to leave it.

The treadmill is reliable.

The treadmill is always there. Rain or shine, cold or hot, morning or night, it’s there, ready for you to jump on and go. You can count on it, and it doesn’t change. Likewise, you have a reliable network of people you can count on too. Family, friends, teachers, mentors—you can rely on all of these people to be there when you need them. You also have a reliable schedule.  You know how your day is planned out (times for classes and activities are set and clear), and there aren’t a lot of surprises. Even long-term, you know what’s coming—when college applications are due, when holiday break will happen, the anticipated dates of prom and graduation. There’s a beauty in the things you can rely on as you look ahead.

The treadmill gets you ready for more.

I did it! Thank you, treadmill, for getting me ready.

As I followed my training plan, I gradually built up from 1-minute intervals to 3, 5, 10, and 20-minute intervals. After a few weeks, I could consistently run a strong 2 miles (still working on making that “easy” third mile!). At first it was hard to imagine running miles (plural) when I could barely get through three minutes. But over time, my legs (and lungs) were able to handle more. Midway through my training I added outdoor runs. It was a big adjustment. There was nothing to force my movement except myself. But the time on the treadmill prepared me, and I gained confidence with each step.

The place you’re in now—at home, in high school, surrounded by family and friends who know you and support you—all works together to prepare you for something bigger. Before you know it, you will be out in the wide open, making your own choices and forging your own path. Elementary school prepared you for middle school; middle school for high school; now high school for college. College is the ultimate step outside to begin your own personal road race. Everything will change. And that’s good! Because when you step out, you’ll step out ready. The training you’ve gone through has prepared you for your next adventure.

The treadmill of life may seem like a cycle of lather-rinse-repeat. And truthfully, that’s exactly what it is. Be grateful for it!

Becky Tankersley has worked in higher education for more than 10 years. She joined Georgia Tech in 2012 after working at a small, private college in the mountains of Northeast Tennessee. Prior to working in higher education, she worked as a television news producer. Her current role blends her skills in college recruitment and communication. Becky is the editor of  the GT Admission Blog, and also serves as a Content Coordinator for the American Association of Collegiate Registrar and Admission Officers.

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The Coach’s Guide to College Admission

Listen to the audio version here!

A few months ago I wrote about no longer coaching my son’s soccer team. This fall I have moved on from that 9 year-old boys’ team to my daughter’s 7 year-old squad. Let’s just say it’s been… a transition. The 9 year-olds, especially in those last few seasons, had really developed their skills and understanding of the game. We had progressed to using phrases like “check,” “square,” and “drop.” When they came to practice, they would (generally) listen, execute the drills, and understand what I was instructing them to do.

The explorersIt did not take me long to remember what it’s like coaching 7 year-olds. In the first practice, one girl literally fell to the ground when I said, “drop” (I’m not sure what she would have “checked”  had I used that term). When I asked them to stand five yards apart and work on two-touch passing, I got a few blank stares combined with distances that left me wondering if it was their understanding of  “five” or “yards” we  needed to work on.

And then we had our first game. It felt like trying to verbally control Foosball players. I found myself calling out from the sideline, “Now you kick it to her, then you kick it to her, and…” Yeah. It didn’t work. On the ride home I realized I needed to re-think my approach and expectations. I decided on three simple priorities for the season: stay “jump rope” distance apart; dribble—don’t kick; and encourage each other.

If you are a parent (or “coach”) in the college admission “season,” I think these goals (pun intended) apply to you as well.

Jump Rope Distance

Clearly, the kids needed to see what five yards looks like, so I brought a jump rope to our next practice and had them take turns stretching it out and holding it. We talked about that being an appropriate separation to keep while you are on the field. At that distance, you can pass to each other and help each other defend. Maintaining that length keeps you from bumping into each other or knocking each other over while trying to get the ball.

As a parent in this process, you are a coach—not a player. You are a parent—not an applicant. Sometimes you may need to go for a walk or drive to re-examine your game plan and check-in: have you recently said something like, “We are taking the SAT next weekend,” or “Our first choice is Purdue”? We have all winced while watching through the slits in our fingers as a coach forgets their role and runs out onto the field, attempting to play for the team. Don’t be that coach! This means asking questions about college essays and making helpful edits or suggestions—not re-writing them with words like “lugubrious” or “obsequious.” This means backing away when you are at a college visit and letting your son or daughter ask their questions of a tour guide or an admission counselor. In a short year or two, they will be on a college campus. They will need to be able to advocate and navigate for themselves. Are you coaching them to be ready for that?

In a recent Washington Post article, Scott Lutostanski discusses executive function skills, which include organization, time management, and planning. He asserts parents need to be disciplined and cognizant of taking opportunities to empower their kids to grow and develop in these areas. Searching for, applying to, getting in, getting disappointed, and ultimately deciding upon a college are all opportunities to help your student enhance these invaluable skills. Don’t steal the ball. Remember: Jump rope distance.

Dribble—don’t kick.  

In practice, I let them simply kick and run after the ball. When they did that, the ball often went out-of-bounds or a defensive player quickly took it away. They realized they were out of control and ineffective. Since then we’ve been focused on dribbling—keeping the ball close so they can cut or change direction when necessary. As a parent/coach, that’s your job too. The college admission process is not Foosball where you simply turn the rod and control the players or the game. You cannot control admission decisions. You cannot control merit scholarships or financial aid packages. You cannot control the competition in any given applicant pool. Slow the game down. Keep perspective. One play at a time. One game at a time. Dribbling allows your team to keep things close and make choices, adjustments, and intentional decisions when the unexpected or uncontrollable happens. Dribble—don’t kick.

Encourage Each Other!

Most of the girls on our team have yet to score a goal. We have made it clear that success is not about scoring. Winning looks different for each one of our players. For some it is making a good pass, while for others it is performing a new dribbling move, or using their non-dominant foot to trap the ball. One of the most gratifying parts of the season has been listening to the players on the bench cheering for their teammates. Some of the loudest celebrations have come after a teammate makes a “jump rope” pass. The entire bench starts chanting “jump rope, jump rope!”Encourage Each Other

What is winning for your daughter or son in their college experience? Not where, coach (and not what you want!). What do they want to study? What kind of faculty and students do they want to be around? What part of your state, region, or country are they excited about spending their colleges years in? Keep asking them these questions.

I hope you will not make winning about getting in to a particular college. Coach so your son or daughter doesn’t feel like your expectation, love, and approval is tied up in getting in (read: scoring), but rather that your joy is in seeing them find multiple colleges that match their goals. Winning is finding affordable financial options everyone is excited about. Winning is staying connected and supporting your son or daughter—holding them up and celebrating them, rather than achieving a particular outcome.

Game Plan

In documentaries or press conferences, players do not talk about how the coach got them to something (titles, awards, etc.) but how they got them as a person—they built trust, believed in them, and encouraged them relentlessly. Similarly, in retirement speeches, coaches rarely mention championships or trophies, but rather define success by their bond with players.  It’s going to be a great season. Go get ‘em, coach!

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