The College Application Process is Not a Spectator Sport
The One Where Everyone Stays in Their Lane
I was onboarding a new client when it became apparent that I was going to need to have “the talk” with him early in our relationship. “The talk” is always necessary at some point in the work; as he shared what he was thinking about college as a rising sophomore, it became clear to me that his time was now.
“The talk” is about keeping the student focused on what they want from the college process; not what their parents want, or their teachers, or their friends, or random strangers passing on the street, or the fictional audience that teenagers carry around with them in their minds. Humans are social creatures. We are influenced by those with whom we interact. We absorb both stated and unstated assumptions, such that it can be extremely difficult to steer our own path free of outside expectations. I have found (much to my chagrin) that my arsenal of metaphors has grown increasingly outdated of late, but fortunately when I shared the importance of “putting blinders on” he knew what I was talking about. For that is the challenge: how to keep kids laser-focused on what’s best for number one when so many others presume they have some sort of right or obligation to chime in; or worse still, pass judgment.
When a kid joins an athletic team, a dramatic cast, or a musical ensemble, they know that at some point they’ll be performing in front of an audience. It’s clear going into these public endeavors that doing whatever you do in front of other people is part of the deal. Navigating the process that culminates in application to college is not one of those de facto spectator activities, or at least it shouldn’t be. But it often becomes one.
The principal developmental challenge of adolescence is identity development– figuring out who you are and/or who you want to become. It is private, deeply personal work that involves one’s sense of self, one’s sense of purpose, and one’s sense of place in the larger human community. This is core identity stuff, not to be trifled with or tampered with, and truly nobody’s business but their own. We can ask others for help figuring all of this stuff out (and there’s the rub, we often need to), but in the end, it’s only self-definition that matters.
What I have realized in the course of my 25 years as a public high school counselor (and recently an independent college consultant on the side) is the process of figuring out oneself and figuring out what one is seeking in education after high school get all mixed up together and bring to the surface stuff that teens would rather remain private. As a card carrying Introvert, I see a ready analogy here. Introverts don’t like to speak up in public until we have thoroughly (over)thought what we want to say, endlessly edited it to be appropriate for television, then revised it some more until it is exactly precisely specifically what we want to say–all done internally out of anyone else’s awareness. I think if there was a similar manner to conduct the college admissions process–work out everything privately and emerge only when a choice has been made–many teens would enthusiastically choose that option. It's hard enough to figure all of this stuff out on one’s own. Feeling as if everyone they know has a front row seat to the inner world that is revealed by the unfolding college process is the stuff of teen nightmares. And it puts a tremendous amount of pressure on kids.
A recent study conducted by the National Association of College Admissions Counselors (as reported by Higher Ed Dive) revealed that over half of students polled in the survey rated applying to college as their “most stressful academic experience to date.” Furthermore, “more than 60% of students reported that college application advice had overwhelmed them, and nearly half said they felt pressured to apply to colleges they weren’t interested in attending.”
Given this state of affairs, what is a parent to do? How can a parent shield their kiddo from the powerful influences that swirl around them as they make their way through the process and enable them to stay focused on what is right for them?
Allison Slater Tate’s brilliant article College admissions are stressful enough. Parents, don’t make it worse (first published in the Washington Post a year ago and just as relevant today) brings “focus on the one thing parents do have control over in the admissions process: ourselves.” Slater Tate is a college counselor and Mom of high school aged teens. “I know from sometimes devastating firsthand experience,” she wrote, “that our kids are struggling, and we can’t wait for colleges or the College Board or anyone else to change the process. It’s up to us to support our kids in a way that ensures they don’t just get into college, but also thrive once they’re there.”
She offers seven deeply insightful suggestions how parents can help navigate the postsecondary process in a way that nurtures their kids and mitigates some of the pitfalls. The categories are hers, the embellishments are mine (unless quoted).
Do your own work first. Or, in more colloquial vernacular—check yourself before you wreck yourself. The essential idea here is that the stress of the application process for the child will in great measure be influenced by the parents’ stress level. “Be careful not to think of your child’s higher-education choices as a bullet point on your parenting résumé, either. The bumper sticker on your car will not validate your parenting, and an Ivy League diploma will not guarantee your child’s success — especially if they show up on that Ivy League campus broken and miserable from the process of getting there.” In other words–as with airplane oxygen masks–please affix your own blinders before assisting your teen with theirs.
Establish a time or day to talk about college. Kids need absolute autonomy to set boundaries regarding when they are comfortable having these conversations. Once you have found your groove sticking to your teen’s desired guidelines for conversations and--equally critical–social media sharing (it may take deliberate effort at first, but you've got this!), your role as a parent is also to help your kiddo set and maintain boundaries with other adults who make it their business, by modeling what your kid is comfortable with, correcting when others slip up, and reinforcing the desired behavior. Pro tip: As with any other “elevator speech” that you might need to whip out without a moment’s notice, plan what you will say to the well-intentioned ‘advice’ from Mrs. Tweezers over the backyard fence ahead of time so that your language is ready when the need arises.”That’s something that we’re managing privately as a family”; “We’ll do a reveal once all is said and done.” Something along those lines.
Watch your language. The language of college admissions has changed significantly (as has the process itself) since Gen X or Xennial parents borrowed their parents’ typewriter and industrial sized Wite Out to fill out two or three applications (if they applied and attended at all). The 80s term “safety school” has been abandoned for the less judgey “likely” moniker. The 80s “Dream” schools can become nightmares if the kid gets in but the family gets gapped by the financial aid package; do you really want to play Rock, Paper, Scissors to determine which adult has to break it to their teen that they can’t go even though they got in? These schools are now “reach” schools or–in the case of the 60 or so highly selective colleges in the US–”lottery” schools; which suggests that getting in is about as likely as winning the lottery. Join a couple Facebook groups to get up to speed on the current lingo. Paying for College 101 is a great source of crowdsourced college information (be sure to find a post that explains all of the acronyms when you first jump in), as is College Admissions Experts, which is moderated by my friend and mentor The College Spy. If you are more of a print book person, Mindful Admissions, The Truth About College Admissions, and The Black Family’s Guide to College Admissions are all great resources.
Prioritize visiting “liklier” schools. While it might sound impressive to put together a spring road trip of Ivy League colleges, the collective acceptance rate for the Ivies was around 5% last year; it creeps ever lower with each passing year. By all means, support your kiddo if they decide to apply to an Ivy League school, but be realistic and help them do the same. Prioritize and visit schools that have higher admission percentages and appear (pre-visit at least) to be a good match for your teen. Here too you may develop a phrase or ritual that snaps them back to reality. “Remember who this is for, sweetheart” or “Put your blinders back on.” come to mind.
Consider not reading their essays. Teens are notoriously circumspect in what they share about their inner worlds with adults, so it can be extraordinarily tempting to try and leverage an opportunity to peek inside their inner world as described in their essay. By all means provide them with resources to help them write a good application essay (none better than The College Essay Guy) but don’t just assume that your kiddo wants to share what they wrote with you. Should their English teacher read it and give feedback? Absolutely; that’s what they do. Leave it to the experts, unless your teen offers and asks for your perusal. As a word guy, this was honestly very hard for me, but my kids led the way by deftly brushing aside my “offers of assistance” until I clued in.
Celebrate every win. Whether the letter (or most likely email) says, “It is my great pleasure to welcome you…” comes from a highly selective college or your state’s land grant university, ensure that your response doesn’t unintentionally convey an unspoken pecking order. If you get pizza for one, get pizza for them all. Sparkling grape juice all around.Your teen will notice if you don’t. With eye rolls. And hurt feelings.
Be on hug duty. There is a lot that you can outsource to others, but straight up loving your kids unconditionally is something that only parents can do better than anyone else. You know best if a college rejection letter bonfire with s’mores is your teen’s style, or if they are going to want to eat their feelings with a pint of Ben and Jerry’s and a sappy movie. You only have a couple of years left before they leave the nest; strive to ensure that their most lasting memories are about the nurturing moments that you facilitated.
In addition to Slater Tate’s guidelines I would add only this:
Invite friends, family, and community members to kindly stay in their lane. Pantomiming putting blinders on is encouraged but not required. No matter how well meaning these folks may be, your kiddo’s college application process is not their spectator sport.