In the world of college admission there is always debate about the “best school” in the nation. As quickly as someone holds up Stanford or Harvard, someone else will poke holes in the methodology, or challenge that they may not be tops for every major, and so on and so forth. There are so many varying “sources” online these days that almost every school can tout a high-ranking or review in one area or another. “We’re among the nation’s best in ROI, or in STEM fields,” “We are the nation’s Greenest college” or “We have the best ice cream.” There is almost never a consensus or agreement on who really is “the best.” Perhaps that’s the beauty of this field– lots of great options and a desire to be the best in one thing or another, but clearly there is not a unanimous #1.
But in the world of music a definitive leader is apparent; a band that rises above the rest and leaves no room for debate: U2. From their lyrics to their history to their longevity, they simply define greatness. Glad we’ve established that.
A lesser known but important U2 song is 11 O’Clock Tick Tock. And in typical fashion, they always bring a lyric that is profound and broadly applicable to life:
“We thought we had the answers. It was the questions we had wrong.”
Asking the right questions, and being persistent in the asking, is a fundamental life lesson. And it’s absolutely vital as you go through the college admission process. So as you head out to college campuses, whether you are a sophomore or junior who is just starting to understand how one school varies from another, or a senior who is trying to figure out the best fit for the next few years, commit to being a relentless questioner. If you leave the question asking to the colleges, you can bet you’re going to hear the same answers over and over again. “Oh, yes. Our biology program is great.” “Sure. You can double major in English and Sound Design. That’s actually extremely common.”
The emails and the brochures paint the same Pollyanna pictures, mixing appropriate diversity with studious learners closely inspecting a beaker or electrical circuit.. Don’t accept the Charlie Brown speeches. As you talk to people at different colleges, turn off the switch that has them rambling about studying abroad or the number of applications they received and ask them something better.
1)You ask: “What is your faculty: student ratio?” This number may not include faculty who are doing research and teach only one class, or those who are on sabbatical, and so on. For example, Tech’s ratio is 20:1, but that doesn’t mean you and 20 buddies will be sitting around a table in Calculus I your first year. These stats are compiled for publications to be comparative. So while helpful in that regard, they don’t tell the whole story.
You SHOULD ask: “What is your most common class size?” This question gets you right into the classroom. Schools rarely publish average SATs or GPAs but rather bands or ranges. Likewise, you want to look at their ranges and variances within class size. 85 percent of classes at Tech have fewer than 50 students. That type of information will be far more helpful to you in framing expectations and determining what kind of experience you will likely have.
And THEN ask: “How does that vary from first year to fourth year? Is that true for all majors? What does that look like for my major?” I had an intro Econ class at UNC-Chapel Hill that had 500 students in it. But that was not my undergraduate experience. In fact, that was the only course I took all four years that was over 100. Similarly, one of my favorite student workers at Tech was a senior Physics major whose classes had seven, 12, and 16 students in them. But rest assured that during her freshman year she sat in a large lecture hall for Physics I.
Your job is to probe. Your job is to dig and to clarify.
2) You ask: “What’s your graduation rate?” Schools do not answer this the same. Some will give you their four-year grad rate, some five, and some six. The variance is not an effort to be misleading or nefarious; they have been trained to respond with an answer that is most representative of their students’ experience. Most four-year, private, selective liberal arts schools would likely not even think to respond with a five or six-year rate because there is no significant differentiation and their goal is to have all students graduate in four years. That’s how they structure curriculum and it is their culture.
You SHOULD ask: “What is your four and six-year graduation rate? And at those two intervals what percentage have either a job offer or grad school acceptance letter?” Who cares if you have a high graduation rate if your job placement rate is low?
And THEN ask: “How does grad rate vary by major? What percentage of students who double major or study abroad or have an internship finish in four years?” My opinion is too much emphasis is put on this clock. Unfortunately, much of this is antiquated and driven by US News and World Report rankings (we won’t delve into this too much, but you can read about here). If you are taking advantage of opportunities on a campus like picking up a minor, or participating in a co-op, or working to offset costs, or going abroad to enhance your language skills, and all of those things are translating into lower loan debt and more job or grad school opportunities when you are done, then who cares about the clock?
3) You ask: “What is your retention rate?” Great question.. and an important one. Most put the national average somewhere around the 60% range. But as you can see from that link, it varies by school type and student type. So when a school says their first-year retention rate is 85%, that’s great, right?
You SHOULD ask: “Why are those other 15% leaving? Is it financial? Is it because the football team lost too many games? Is it academic and they’re not prepared for the rigor of the school? Is it because the school is too remote or too urban or too big?” Follow up. Ask them to articulate who is leaving. Tech has a retention rate of 97.3%, which is among the top 25 schools nationally and top five for publics (these are statistics here, friends, not rankings). But we are constantly looking at who is leaving. Surprisingly, for many alumni and others who know the rigor of Tech, it’s not exclusively academic. It’s a balanced mix that also includes distance from home, seeking a different major, financial reasons, and, increasingly, because students are starting companies or exploring entrepreneurial options.
Some schools have retention rates below the national average, but they’re losing students who are successfully transferring to state public flagships or into specialized programs in the area. If that’s your goal, then you can be okay with a lower retention rate, right?
Don’t be too shy to ask questions. This is your job… Not your mom’s job…. Not your counselor’s job. Your job. DO YOUR JOB!
And THEN ask: What that’s it? Nope. I have more questions…and so should you.
Editor’s Note: This post originally appeared in February 2017. Links have been updated.
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A couple of weeks ago I told you listening is “the one thing you can do” when it comes to college admission. The one thing you completely control. After that I got some really encouraging and humorous emails from fellow wallet-leavers (and those who love them) around the country. It is good to know I am not alone. I also got one note that said, “What they really need is just to know what admission people really want.” Challenge accepted!
You could call what I’m about to share the magic bullet; the linchpin, the Holy Grail. Or you could just call it “the one thing that admission people want.” It is what we hope you will do with your time outside the classroom. It is the type of person we want on our campuses. It is how we hope you’ll go about choosing your academic path through high school. And it’s also the best way to navigate the admission experience. For those of you who have been reading this blog since it started three years ago, I hope you were a freshman then, because your patience is finally paying off—just in time for this pivotal trade secret.
But since you have waited this long, you can wait a few paragraphs more, right?
Not everything that can be counted counts…
Unfortunately, too often the college admission experience begins with, and is plagued by, a mentality of “what do I have to do?” Here’s how this plays out:
Q: In your presentation, you showed your middle 50% score ranges. (As they Google test-prep programs) So if I get 60 points higher, I will have a better chance, right?
Q: Your first-year profile shows that most students entering have taken around nine or 10 AP, IB or Dual Enrollment courses. Which other class should I add to my schedule?
Q: So I was reading about the value you place on extra-curricular involvement, contribution to community, and Progress and Service. Which is better: two years of ultimate Frisbee, or three years of Beta Club?
Year 1
The other night my wife and I watched the movie Girls Just Want to Have Fun with our kids. As it started, my wife said, “I haven’t seen this since our girls’ nights,” and then looked at me. Confused, so did both our kids. Let me explain.
When Amy and I first moved to Atlanta, she did not know anyone in the city. No friends, no job—just a new husband…me. She was planning on getting her master’s in physical therapy, but had a year to work on the pre-requisites, study for the GRE, establish residency, make some money to pay for the program, and adjust to a new town (and husband).
I know what you’re thinking: that must have been rough. And you’re right. I already had a job and was originally from Atlanta. Several of my good friends from college lived here as well, so I was plugged in and fairly busy. In those first few months, Amy tried one job and hated it. Knowing everything was short-term with school starting the next fall, she took another job, and then another (to clarify, she did not work three jobs simultaneously).
We would go to dinner or watch a game or just sit on our porch, and she’d talk about how difficult it was not having close friends or family in town, like she did in California and North Carolina. Finally, one night I decided I had to take a more radical approach to cheering her up. I had to do something unexpected—something just for her.
We started “girls’ nights” once a month. I had long argued that I was not physically built to power walk the way I knew she and some of her friends could. I remember seeing them go at an incredible clip for what seemed like hours, chatting and enjoying time together. So one night we power walked. Two hours, just walking and talking all through the neighborhood(s). Admittedly, I looked pretty awkward, and at times I struggled to keep up, but it was absolutely worth the effort for the joy it brought her. One night dinner was a just a giant salad and we spent the evening reading a book aloud to each other. And yes, one night we did facial masks and watched Girls Just Want to Have Fun (I’m telling you, it’s a must see!).
Not everything that counts can be counted…
So what’s the perfect class schedule, the right test score, the magic combination of sports, work, and school leadership? What is it that admission people really want? The answer is simple: we want Girls’ Nights!
Power Walks. We’d love for you to choose a rigorous curriculum solely for the love of learning and expanding your knowledge (more on love in the next point). That is why you so often hear the buzz phrase “intellectual curiosity.” What admission people really want to see is you power walking through your curriculum in high school. Yes—it means there will be times you are not totally comfortable. There will be some classes where you are not a complete natural and you have to work harder than some classmates to keep up or to excel. But if power walking is your mindset, you’ll know when the load is appropriately challenging versus absolutely overwhelming. You will be more appreciative of your teachers; more likely to seek help when you need it and give help when you are able; less focused on the grade and more on the content; and ultimately you’ll end up far more prepared when you arrive at college.
Love. We want you to volunteer at a hospital or master a language or earn your black belt not because it will look good or separate you from other applicants, but because it’s a genuine interest, an opportunity to grow, a passion, a love. If you hate tennis, quit. If you are miserable eating the bread in French Club, pack up your things and leave. Au revoir. “Which is better: two years of ultimate Frisbee, or three years of Beta Club?” Neither. Trust me—we are not making those kinds of delineations. Your sanity, enjoyment, and time are the priority. Love does not keep records or count accomplishments or track time. What do admission people want? We want to attract applicants and enroll students who are looking to build others up, rather than one up or edge others out. We are looking for future graduates who will invest deeply in people, communities, clubs, sports, and jobs—whether or not there is a picture in a yearbook or a line on an application.
The Perfect Night
There is no perfect or right girls’ night, just like there is no perfect or right college. Amy loved those evenings not because they were ideas from a Top 10 list or what someone else said would be best. She loved them because they were perfect and right for her. Some people are not big salad fans. I get it. If you don’t like humidity and roads that start with “Peach,” avoid Atlanta for college.
What do admission people want? We want you to explore all your options and to honestly consider and intentionally choose your best fit when you apply to college. We want you to be mindful that this is a deeply personal choice that is authentically yours, so you’ll be confident when you arrive at your university.
Utopian? Pollyanna? Perhaps, but I’m okay with that. Granted, you are talking to someone who has now read nearly every Nicholas Sparks novel aloud and unashamedly endorses early Sarah Jessica Parker. But this is about you, not me. I am just doing what was asked– telling you what admission people want: Girls Nights!
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I’ve coached my son in soccer since he was 4. Between falls, springs, and a few Futsal winter sessions we’re sitting at 15 seasons total. He has gone from running aimlessly around the field with a uniform shirt touching his kneecaps to carrying a ball in his backpack at all times and watching professional YouTube highlights.
At the beginning of the spring season he told me he was interested in a more competitive league and wanted to try out for our local “academy” team. We talked about this in the past, and now with several of his friends from school and a few neighbors already on the club, I was not surprised. When the season ended, he had not wavered. We told him it would be competitive and there was no guarantee he would make it. But he remained interested and kept playing and practicing after school every day.
Season 2. I call this one “See no evil, hear no evil.”
So last week, despite the dismal forecast, we headed out to the fields for the first of a three night tryout. He was excited but anxious. “What kinds of drills do you think we will do? How many guys are trying out? Do you know any of the coaches?” Once we arrived they divided the players into various colored pennies and sent them to one of three fields with a few coaches to start their warm up and drills.
After 45 minutes, the club director gathered all of the parents for a quick meeting. “Thank you all for coming out tonight. We really appreciate your son showing interest in our club.” With rain coming down and whistles blowing on the fields all around us, it was tough to lean in and hear all of his words as he addressed about 40 parents huddled under tents along the sideline.
“We are about player development. There will be three teams: elite, premier, and united. If your son wants to play professional soccer, we will try to help him reach that goal. This is an academy–and we treat it like that–a school. We are here to teach the game and help your son get better. This is a community club and we are committed to having players from all backgrounds on our teams. Your fees will go to helping about 75 players a year who otherwise could not afford to play and travel, so thank you for your commitment.”
At this point, he paused and took a look over at the three fields filled with 9 and 10-year-old boys wearing blue pennies, getting absolutely soaked, and clearly enjoying every minute. “At this age, we are not too concerned with wins and losses. Our commitment is to help each player improve and achieve his goals. Any questions?”
I’m just being honest.
DAD #1 from under a Price Waterhouse Coopers umbrella. Q: How many spots do you have on the elite team this year?
A: All returning players also have to try out again, so that number is yet to be determined.
MOM #1 standing just outside the tent with rain now tumbling off her loose-fitting jacket hood. Q: “If my son has a bad tryout and gets placed on the lower level team, can he move up?”
A: Yes, we will move players. Sometimes during the season and sometimes they’ll need to try out at the end of the year in order to be assessed for a different squad.
I loitered around after the public meeting and heard: “You said that our fees subsidize players who cannot afford to play. Is there a preference for families that will pay a higher amount to subsidize additional players?” I’m guessing the director was thinking was, “and this is why US Soccer won’t be competing in the World Cup this summer.” But instead he responded, “We always welcome donations but your son will be placed on the team that suits his ability, regardless of monetary contributions.” Well played, coach.
These questions sounded eerily familiar as parallels to college admission. The only one I did not hear was, “If I also played Academy growing up, does my son get any type of advantage?” Maybe that was emailed in later. But good to know that if the soccer talent in the area dries up, the league director has transferable skills.
I came home and gave my wife the report. “He did pretty well in the drills. Definitely did not get the ball a ton in the scrimmage but there are two more nights of tryouts, so we’ll see.”
Which team do you think he’ll make?
“Tough to say. There are a lot of really good players out there and even though the coach said there are no guaranteed spots for returning players, that may or may not be totally true.”
Even as I was talking I could see the same nervous, concerned look on her face our son had a few hours earlier.
I’m writing this post on night three of tryouts from an airplane that has been sitting on the tarmac in Washington D.C. for well over an hour due to terrible storms on the east coast. With no internet and lightning erupting around us, I inexplicably can only get one song on my Spotify playlist, “Hey Ya!” by Outkast. Hence the themes and subheadings.
Phone rings.
“Hey. How did it go?” I ask quietly so not to interrupt my neighbor who is already most of the way through her now lukewarm Panini and A Phantom Thread (not a recommendation).
He did ok. Not as well as last night, although he had a good shot on goal. He was upset coming home and said he’s worried he may get placed on the lowest level team. I tried to tell him even that quality would be higher than your team… I mean… you know what I’m saying, right?
I love this woman. Definitely keeps me humble. “Yeah, I hear you. Can I talk to him?”
Footsteps on stairs. Running water. Something crashes. Daughter complaining about brushing teeth in background.
Hey, dad.
“Hey, bud. How was your day?”
He launches into an assessment of the drills and his play overall.
“Gotcha. Well, I’m sorry I could not be there. Always love watching you play.”
No answer initially. And then…Yeah. We did play a pretty cool game I can show you when you get home.
I hung up and was about to put my headphones back on to see if I’d escaped the Hey Ya! loop when my neighbor asked, “Your son?” She was in her early 60’s, wearing glasses and a scarf. Her headphones were off now and she’d turned toward me.
A recent plane neighbor. What? You thought I was kidding?
Yeah, he had a soccer tryout tonight.
I’m sure he did great.
We’ll see.
Well, it sounds like you handled it pretty well. He knows you love him and that’s what is important.
To be honest I’ve recently had a string of airplane neighbors who immediately covered themselves with blankets when I said hello, so it took me a second to make the transition not only to an interaction, but someone with actual sage wisdom. (Side note: I wrote this part after we deboarded in case she was watching my screen like she was eavesdropping on my conversation.)
After she went on to explain she was not going to make a connecting flight to Des Moines for a speech her husband was supposed to make in the morning, I offered her some local hotel options in Atlanta, and she went back to her movie.
Me? I closed my eyes and hit play.
Alright, alright, alright, alright, alright.
I had a couple of thoughts.
1- He will probably make one of those teams (which, as we have established, are all better than what he has experienced before) and the coaches will help him continue to improve.
2- If he does not end up on a team with his friends, he will make new ones. He always does.
3- Not knowing is the hardest part. Once he is placed and starts playing, he’ll have a blast.
But what kept going through my head was Outkast. No, wait… it was, “He knows you love him, and that’s what is important.”
Thank God for mom and dad for sticking together.
If you are a parent of a junior or sophomore who is planning to apply to selective colleges, I’m imploring you to have these conversations with your son/daughter, your spouse/partner, and with yourself, BEFORE applications are submitted (aka tryouts) and definitely before admission decisions are released.
When a school has an admit rate of 20% or 12%, the talent, preparation and skills to contribute on that field are incredible. And the truth is those percentages don’t exactly translate to 1 of 5 or 12 of 100 because that year they may only be looking for a few “defenders”, i.e. students in a particular major or from your state, etc. You will not be able to control who else or how many others are trying out. When you apply, there is no way to know if there are in fact some “reserved” spots (although I’d assume there are). What you do control is your mentality. You do control your perspective. You weren’t thinking this was all totally fair were you?
When you tour schools this summer, when those brochures arrive in the mail, when you talk to friends or colleagues about the variety of colleges they attended, when you look through the alma maters of Fortune 500 CEOs, I urge you to really read. REALLY listen. Notice what they have in common. No, I’m not talking about how you can grab three friends and a professor and start a juggling club. No, not the part about how apparently each place sends kids abroad to stand on high points and ruminate over life’s deeper meaning. I’m talking about the bigger connection and takeaway message—they are ALL about student development.
They ALL have faculty, programs, opportunities that say precisely what the coach said in the rain last week: if you come here, commit, work hard and plug-in we will help you reach your goals. (See Frank Bruni’s book for more on this.)
There is nothing wrong with wanting to make the Elite team. There is nothing wrong with visiting and applying to Ivy League or Ivy-like schools. But the big misconception, the big myth, and frankly the big misplaced mentality is that “getting in” to those places is a parent’s report card or that this perceived Elite, Premier, United structure of schools is somehow an indicator of a student’s future success and opportunities.
I want to challenge you to dig deeper into the methodology that dictates the tiers the US News Rankings prescribe. Question whether you really see a discernible difference in student quality or alumni outcomes at a school that is 15 percentage points higher/lower in selectivity. Read the statistics behind 100 points variation on an SAT before you mentally classify them into Elite vs. Premier. Look around you. Every day I meet people who went to schools that admit well over half of their applicants. What are they doing now? Running their own businesses, leading teams, and influencing their communities. Fundamentally, whether it is Northwestern or Northeastern, whether it is Washington State or Wash U, this is what colleges do for students who want to learn, grow, thrive, and work hard to achieve their goals. Get behind them!
What makes love the exception?
Get excited about every school your son or daughter puts on their list. Take the tour, buy the t-shirt, go to a game, and ultimately put that sticker on your car with pride. I get it can be tough when classmates or friends or neighbors end up on a different team. You stick with constant encouragement and they will embrace the opportunity— trust there are great new teammates to meet and coaches waiting to help them reach their goals. But, above all else, stick with the message of unconditional love. What makes love the exception? It’s not Andre3000, it’s the rule.
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Congratulations to the Class of 2018. You did it! I realize some of you may be reading this and thinking, “Well… it’s not that big of a deal. I mean, I always expected to graduate from high school.” But even if it is just momentarily- take it in. Hold your head high. Give a classmate or a fellow teammate or a teacher or parent a big high five or a fist bump or a hug. It is a big accomplishment and I hope you’ll take time to enjoy it. You put in a lot of late nights and hard work. You made sacrifices and tough choices along the way.
And to parents, the same. Lots of late nights, hard work, sacrifices and tough choices. Not to mention carpool lines, endless days at practices or games or recitals. You have basically earned an advanced degree in logistics by helping this day come to fruition. You purchased copious amounts of food, exercised extreme patience, listened, intervened, questioned yourself, literally and figuratively pulled your hair out, and yet from the first day of kindergarten, when the halls were filled with artwork and children with book bags hanging down to their ankles, until now, you never wavered in your love and support. You also deserve a huge congratulations. Enjoy those hugs!
You know, they say that high school graduation speakers are among the top five most influential voices in a person’s life, and you may be waiting with baited breath for yours this spring. But just in case you do doze off or go down some social media rabbit trail on your phone or have classmate next to you insisting that you play a best of 17 game of hangman or tick-tack-toe, I wanted to provide you an alternative.
I am from Atlanta originally, and after my first year in college, I came home for the summer to take advantage of a meaningful internship… delivering Chinese food. Actually, as the only American working at this all- family, all- cash run restaurant, it was quite an education. But that is a different story for a different day.
A friend of mine from high school, and for the purposes of this story, we’ll call him Gene…actually, that is his real name (really no need to disguise his identity), had gotten really into kayaking that year. He was excited to share his newfound passion with me and another good friend of ours, Jeff (also his real name).
Photo credit: Atlanta Trails
Before we went to a river, however, Gene wanted to help us learn some basics. So one Tuesday night after work, we loaded the boats up onto his old Volvo and headed to Stone Mountain Lake. Now, if you are not from Georgia, there is really nothing you need to know specifically about this lake, except that it is like almost every other inland lake in the world—completely calm.
On the bank of the lake, we put on our helmets, life jackets, and skirts- a tight fitting piece of waterproof equipment that you stretch around the hole of the boat to insure no water comes in. He threw us our paddles and we shoved off into the water.
Skillfully, Gene showed us how to “roll.” Rolling is a maneuver paddlers use to right themselves when their boat tips over in the water. Admittedly, I did hear him twice say “inevitably tip,” but whether it was ego or wishful thinking, I thought he was directing that at Jeff. In order to roll, you stab your paddle into the water, flip your hips, and then allow your torso, shoulders, and ultimately your head to come out of the water (which, of course, is the absolute first thing you want out). For about 45 solid minutes, Jeff and I attempted to emulate this move. Unfortunately, all we were able to accomplish was scaring away all of the ducks and drawing a small crowd of onlookers who were taking great pleasure in our awkward attempts.
Finally, Gene had seen enough. We paddled back to the shore and sat down to eat the sandwiches and chips we’d brought along. Tired, wet, and cold, we sat for a few minutes just looking back out at the still lake. Gene stood up, arched his back, and said, “Yep. I think you’re ready for the river.”
Ready for the River….
So after work that Friday night, we loaded up our boats and gear, packed some healthy snacks like Fritos, Pop Tarts, and Gatorade, and headed to the Nantahala River in North Carolina. We arrived around 1 a.m., camped out, and had a hearty breakfast of granola bars and coffee before heading to the river.
On the way down the mountain, Gene explained that the Nantahala has Class II, III, and IV rapids. My loose translation of what he told us was essentially people can die here. Perfect. Well, I at least I could fall back on my solid lake training and nutritious breakfast. Wait…
We found a parking spot, unloaded our kayaks from the roof, and headed to the river bank. I think it was at that point Gene considered, potentially for the first time, that we may be in over our heads- both literally and figuratively. So, in a final ditch effort, he got into his kayak on the shore and asked us to do the same. As guys were walking past, he starts emulating the roll–showing us how to jam the paddle into the water (although he was doing this into the sandy bank) and flip our hips simultaneously.
It seemed ridiculous. I felt ridiculous. And based on the bearded, shaggy looking guys with tattoos of kayak paddles on their biceps who were walking by and audibly scoffing, I figured my assessment was correct. I am pretty sure I heard one tandem put money on one of us dying that day, and to be honest, if it were me, I would have been in on that action. (Side Note- I later learned there is a direct correlation between kayaking ability and facial hair, but that is merely tertiary in this story).
In what proved to be the smoothest part of the day by far, we pushed off and headed down river. After that, it got ugly fast. Within 20 minutes both Jeff and I flipped twice and were unable to roll back over. And I’m not going to lie. This happened to both of us at least once in pretty still water. We just flipped for no apparent reason.
The pain about flipping over when you can’t roll is that you have to pull the skirt off the ridge of the boat, grab the kayak, find your paddle, and swim to the shore. Along the way, you are inevitably hitting idle rocks, or continuing to go down pseudo-rapids. Oh… and it’s cold. This water has just been released from a mountain dam. I’m not saying its Vermont but water in that part of North Carolina in late May is chilly. You get to the side, dump out the water, regain the breath you lost between the effort and the temps, and head back in. After about the sixth time, it’s pretty miserable.
Into the Washing Machine
Miraculously, after several hours, we made it to the final rapid of that section. This was a beast affectionately known as “The Washing Machine.” Gene called it a “hydraulic,” which loosely translated means “death trap.” Essentially, this is just a furious, whirling mess of water, rocks, and debris at the bottom of a several foot drop.
We pulled our boats over to a sandy beach and climbed up to a rickety old observation deck (Note: I was there recently and saw that they have installed a paved path and picnic tables. I think they somehow made the rapid smaller too). We ate some beef jerky and watched other boats go down.
“See that rock,” Gene said, pointing to a big boulder a few yards ahead of the precipitous drop-off. “You have to get to the left of it. Go right and… Well, don’t go right. Check out that log.”
I saw it enter, spin, disappear, and then come shooting out splintered into a thousand pieces.
“Yea. That’ll be you if you go right.” Terrifying.
At the bottom of the rapid I saw these really skilled kayakers playing in the rapid. Basically, once they had gone down, they would turn their boat back upriver and intentionally put the nose of their boat back into the rapid. They would spin, sometimes flip, but then immediately right themselves and “surf” along the rocks. Then they would be pushed out by the force of the water and go back in for more. It did look cool, but with only had 45 minutes of preparation, five hours of sleep, and a few Pop Tarts in my belly, I was thinking survival at this point.
Then, Gene’s voice interrupted. “All right. Let’s do it.” I picked up my helmet and headed back down towards the water. Right as we get back to the kayaks, Gene says (almost off-handedly), “You know. If you don’t want to do this, you could portage.”Like so many of the terms associated with this God-forsaken sport, I’d never heard this one either, but I rightly inferred that it meant “carry your boat around.”
“Yep,” he explained. “If you don’t want to tackle The Washing Machine, you can portage down the road, and I’ll meet you on the other side.” Now, let’s be honest. No self-respecting, red-blooded, eighteen-year-old is going to do that. Far better to die in a hydraulic, right?!
Not actually me… credit to anoldent – Flickr: Nantahala River 34, CC BY-SA 2.0
Gene went first. Naturally, he adeptly navigated to the left of the rapid, momentarily disappeared from view as he went over the rocks, and then came out upright in the waters on the other side. Then, he turned, pumps his fist, and waved at us to come down.
I remember doing rock-paper-scissors with Jeff to see who was to go second. Technically, he lost and was up next. I watched him go slowly toward the rock. Now, I’m not saying I wanted to see him go right, but there was a part of me hoping for a slightly rough ride so I could finish on top. One upping each other was what this was all about after all.
But it was not to be. In the run of his life he not only went left, but somehow managed to stay upright. I saw him and Gene high five. And even at a 30-yard distance I could see Jeff’s smug smirk.
Now it was my turn. I took a deep breath, said the only part of a Hail Mary I remembered, and headed down river. I saw the rock clearly and I had a good line, but at the most pivotal moment, with the final key stroke I needed to go left… Honestly, I still cannot explain what happened, but I completely whiffed. I got no water at all with my paddle. Only air.
My boat hit the rock square on. A complete T-bone, which gives you a 50/50 shot of going either way. Well, I would not be telling this story today if I had gone left. Instead, the impact spun me around backwards.I am not sure if it was the water, the rocks, or my utter and complete panic, but I flipped over. So now I’m backwards, upside down, and hurtling into the hydraulic. I’m guessing it was the force of the fall that shot my paddle from my hands, and it was definitely the ferocity of the water that caused my helmet to spin around backwards and completely cover my face. In that moment, backwards, upside down, to the right, with no paddle, no vision and water surging through orifices in my body that I did not even know existed, I remember thinking, “Well… it’s been a good ride. At least I didn’t portage.”
But then I recalled two things Gene said just as we left the observation deck. One, of course, was don’t go right. Definitely remembered that. But the other was, “If you do end up in the hydraulic, you are going to want to fight it and swim out. That’s the last thing you should do. The water is too strong and you’ll exhaust yourself. You have to relax. Let your body go.” So I did. I put my hands down and went completely limp.
In doing so, I got utterly catapulted into the air. I had to have gotten about two or three feet of air. I I am not sure if this was the water slapping across my face or the momentum and torque, but my helmet totally whipped back around.
Absolute Eruption
Fresh air. Light. And then, Bam! I land on the water hard and then bounced once. Then, an absolute eruption. At first I thought it was thunder. Then I looked up at the observation deck. It was pandemonium. Guys were hugging, screaming, chest bumping, high fiving, slamming their kayak paddles together in a tribe like celebration. They were going absolutely nuts.
And so were the really skilled kayakers all around me who were playing in the rapid. They were yelling and pointing at me in congratulations, pumping their fists with approval. Elated.
As I’m taking in this absurd scene someone taps me on the shoulder. I look back and this other kayaker is holding my paddle. He has this look of absolute awe as he says, “Dude. That. Was. Awesome! I have been trying to hand roll for like six years. Can you teach me?” I’d never heard that term either, but I was able to gather myself enough to grab the paddle, spin around and say, “Man. I haven’t got time for that today.”
Then I paddled down to where Gene and Jeff were literally crying they were laughing so hard.
So why do I share this with you today? I think it’s pretty obvious really. God’s speed. No, in all seriousness, there are three points to share with you.
First, you are READY!
You are ready for college. You are ready for the challenges it will bring. You have a helmet. You can do the work. You have a life-jacket in the tremendous support system around you: your family, friends, teachers, and all of those folks who have and will always be there for you. You are prepared. You are not coming onto the river from a still lake without proper training or practices. You’re not heading to a campus on a terrible diet of Fritos and Pop Tarts. You have a boat and a paddle. You are ready for the adventure the next four years will bring. And my hope is you see it that way- as a great river to endeavor out into. I hope that you will play in it and surf”in it. Take a class that sounds interesting just because you want to. Learn to unicycle, try an instrument, eat some food you can’t spell or pronounce. Go on a 10 hour road trip to a state you’ve never been in before. Enjoy. Use your skills and talents and all of the ways you’ve been equipped to thrive and have fun! You. Are. Ready!
Second, you are NOT READY!
Didn’t you listen to the story? There are rocks, rapids, hydraulics, and currents beneath the surface that you will never see coming. This is no joke. You are going to get bumped around. Some of you have never seen a B except on an eye chart. Prepare for a C. Things are not going to completely go your way. You are going to get spun around. You may not make the team or be elected into a club you are hoping for. Your first choice internship is going to fall through, and even worse, your best friend is going to get it. You are going to feel like there is water rushing across your face. That major is going to turn out to be a bad fit. And that’s all before the big break up at Thanksgiving. Sickness, bankruptcy, divorce… What? Am I going to far?
But you see my point, right? You cannot totally prepare for all of what is coming. You are not prepared for all of what is coming! Not on your own. So in those hydraulic moments, I hope you will remember what you see around you today. Remember those faces. Look at those smiles. They are here to hand you your paddle when you emerge. The truth is we all have those times when it feels like our paddle has been ripped away and we are backwards and upside down. We all question if we are up for certain challenges. But your family and friends- they are your boat and life jacket. And no hydraulic of life is going to take them away. In college, at some point or another, you will have some dark days. You will wonder if you can keep it all together. In those times, you have to relax and stop fighting. You have to stop trying to do it all yourself and reach out. Let them cheer for you, high five you, fist bump or paddle slam or simply celebrate you as you navigate your way through.
Lastly, DON’T PORTAGE!
Please don’t waste your college days, or your days beyond those, by taking the easy way out. Regrets come from moments when we see an opportunity and we let it pass.
Every good graduation speech has at least on quote. Since this is not a graduation speech, and its quality is debatable, I’m going to give you two.
1 – “A ship at harbor is safe, but that is not what ships are built for.” John A. Shedd
We are created to endure, to live fully, to live not out of fear but love and adventure. Don’t be too scared to risk. Don’t be too concerned with how you will look to try something new or different. Don’t stay in a major you know is not right for you. Don’t avoid a class or bypass a trip or stay in a relationship simply because it’s the safest path. This is your run on the river. Point the nose of your boat directly into it and go!
2 – “Most live lives of quiet desperation & go to their graves with their songs still in them.” Henry David Thoreau
Don’t let that be your college career or your life beyond it. I hope you’ll take advantage of all that awaits you in college. Study abroad, take tough classes, hang out with people from places you’ve never been. KNOW THAT when you are in the hydraulics life throws at you that ultimately you’ll come out down river, in calm waters, and with friends and family around you–just like they are today.
Congratulations, Class of 2018! I’m excited to see where the waters lead you.
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Attempting round two or part two of anything comes with risks. Clearly there are some shining examples of building on a story that went exceedingly well–Harry Potter, The Hunger Games, and The Lion The Witch and the Wardrobe, to name a few. Sci-fi and superheroes seem to have the advantage in the film space (pun moderately intended). Just look at Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan, The Dark Knight, The Empire Strikes Back, and Spiderman 2.
Kids’ movies are spottier. For every Home Alone 2 you have Chipmunks 2- The Squeakquel. Feel free to Google for best and worst in this category—I’m sure you can add some of these to your Netflix queue (or Nutflix Squeakque as the case may be).
After last week’s post I had some good suggestions from both my staff and colleagues at other schools. So, at the risk of an epic fail like Dumb and Dumber To, here are a few more #TNHIW:
Deposits and Canceling
“I was admitted to several schools but I can’t decide, so I’m going to deposit at ALL of them.” No!!! #TNHIW. If you can’t decide on a college, don’t put down multiple deposits at $200-$1,000 a pop while you make up your mind. If you want to spend money, send me half that amount—I’ll put it towards a new dartboard and a popcorn machine (the way we make admission decisions) and mail you a quarter to flip.
Colleges and universities are part of a national organization, the National Association of College Admission Counseling (NACAC). NACAC has established a specific timeline to help you through the college admission process—that’s why you don’t see application deadlines before October 15; it’s why you can wait on financial aid and housing details before committing to a school; and it’s why May 1 is the established national deposit deadline. (NACAC is also why schools at college fairs are not doing raffles or cheap parlor tricks, but that’s a post for a different day.)
We often hear of students “sitting on admits” without canceling because it makes them (or their parents) feel proud. If you need an ego boost, DM us on Twitter—we’ll show you some love. Look–if you decided a school is too far away, too expensive, too cold (or the opposite of any of those), or there’s another reason why it’s not a good match for you, cancel your application. At Tech, in all of our emails to admitted students and in our admission portal, we include a cancel link. If schools you’ve been admitted to are not making this process obvious, email or call them and find out how to do it.
Canceling allows colleges to re-distribute financial aid dollars and to take students off their waitlist. Good for the goose and good for the gander. Not big into the common good? Then think of canceling like breaking up with someone. It doesn’t take long and eliminates irrelevant calls, texts, and letters.
In-State Tuition
“We used to live in Georgia.” “Her grandparents have a lake house in state.” “The Falcons loss in the Super Bowls still burns…” This one may fall under the “it never hurts to ask” category, but ultimately the bigger umbrella is #TNHIW. Each state has its own rules on in-state tuition rates, but as a rule you’ll find it necessary to have lived in the state for a year prior to starting classes, and claimed it as your primary residence on your tax records. It’s helpful to know public universities operate as a part of a state system, and must adhere to the policies they set forth. So when you’re on the phone with an admission or financial aid representative and they’re saying you do not qualify for in-state tuition, it’s not because you’re the unlucky fifteenth caller of the day. They are simply conveying their state’s law, and they have to uphold it. (See policy 4.3.2)
Comparative Decisions
“My classmate/neighbor/cousin got in and I’m a better student.” “We both know my son’s smarter than…” “Last year you took a girl who is exactly like her.” Again, #TNHIW. First, we will never discuss another student with you. When applicants submit their application, they do so under the assurance their information will be used solely for the purpose of admission review and continued individual communication. A student’s application is not to be used to influence elections or talk to their “friend’s” uncle (who happens to be an alum) about how they compare to other students from their school–specifically said uncle’s nephew. So if your lead question in an email or phone call is comparative, we will politely but consistently redirect the conversation.
And be honest—do you really know all the details about the other student? Grades, classes, testing, life circumstances, content of essay and short answer questions, major, interview dynamics, recommendation letters? In a holistic, selective review where institutional priorities and goals for the class are at play, there are infinite nuances making applicants unique and decisions less predictable and consistent from one year to the next.
Scholarships and Financial Aid Awards
“Awesome University gave my son a merit scholarship worth $10,000, and Congratulations College named him a Dean’s Disciple, which is worth $22,000 over four years. You must not really want him or you would do the same.” Well…#TNHIW. Every school has its own overall cost, endowment level, and enrollment strategy. Some colleges keep their rates as low as possible from the outset, while others publish prices and then discount tuition using terms like “scholarship” as a tool for enrolling students. Some put all of their discretionary funds into need-based aid, while others grant merit aid based on clear and defined parameters like GPA or testing.
Tuition at public schools is set by their governing system, and in many states colleges are prohibited from using tuition funds toward meeting the need of other students—a fundamental practice in the case of many schools nationally. I won’t belabor this point. You’ve seen enough variance in the admission process to know schools have extremely different missions, cultures, and recruitment approaches—the same is true with financial aid awards and packages. Money is emotional and it’s not easy to keep your emotions in check when analyzing costs of this significance. Plus, we all want a deal, right? There is great satisfaction in feeling like you’ve gotten something exclusive or special. Hey, I like catching the t-shirt tossed from courtside too. But don’t let pride or frustration or the ability to brag about a scholarship be the sole reason you make a college choice.
Don’t misunderstand me—cost matters. But ironically, each year students will select one university over another because of the difference in aid awarded, rather than the difference in actual cost. At the end of the day, if relative costs are similar and you have either the financial means to pay or the confidence in your financial investment in a particular college, I’d urge you to not let another university’s award keep you from choosing your best fit.
There won’t be a three-peat or trilogy for #TNHIW, but if you want to peel back more admission myths and misconceptions, check out this layered Onion piece.
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admission process. So as you head out to college campuses, whether you are a sophomore or junior who is just starting to understand how one school varies from another, or a senior who is trying to figure out the best fit for the next few years, commit to being a relentless questioner. If you leave the question asking to the colleges, you can bet you’re going to hear the same answers over and over again. “Oh, yes. Our biology program is great.” “Sure. You can double major in English and Sound Design. That’s actually extremely common.”
Q: In your presentation, you showed your middle 50% score ranges. (As they Google test-prep programs) So if I get 60 points higher, I will have a better chance, right?
individual communication. A student’s application is not to be used to influence elections or talk to their “friend’s” uncle (who happens to be an alum) about how they compare to other students from their school–specifically said uncle’s nephew. So if your lead question in an email or phone call is comparative, we will politely but consistently redirect the conversation.