Hey everyone. I wanted to offer a space where anxious parents or students (mostly students) wanted to learn what it's really like at these so-called elite institutions into which everyone is willing to sacrifice a limb or moral imperative. I also thought it might be an interesting opportunity for colleagues across the country (and globe, for that matter) who teach from middle school on up through graduate school to see how ridiculous (but also occasionally amazing) "the great professors" behave at this level - some human, some robotic, some pathological, and some plainly the best you'll ever know. And likewise for the students. But more often than not, the small percentage of students who really are just pains in your ass are the ones whose anecdotes will provide us not only great (anonymous) fun, but also, I hope some perspective and perhaps a cautionary tale here and there.
Listen: I've been around the block a while. I have three degrees including a Ph.D. from the same damn institution (nearly 11 years of the same cafeteria food). I've been a prep school kid in New England fighting to get into these absurd institutions. I've taught at a bunch of them after graduating from both the prep school and college levels. I see what it takes to get into these schools, but I also see how arbitrary the process can be. Your parents and you shouldn't be agonizing over this process in your senior year (or junior year, or for some of you, your 5th-grade year), whether you're from Missoula, Wellesley, Hattiesburg, or Singapore. You should just be spending the time with the ones you love and enjoying your final year of high school because - unless you're a real thug, you won't be getting that year back.
I think I possess a unique viewpoint which will help you understand how to approach these odd places, how to talk about and write about yourselves, and to demythologize much of the undeserved mystique. Everybody's mess smells the same, and we all still put on one pant leg at a time (presumably). I just want to make sure that everyone knows - whether you've "made it" into these rareified, manicured idylls or not - it ain't the end-all, be-all, and the craziness doesn't stop with the admissions process. And I think we can all take some pleasure in laughing at people inside the ivy walls, especially when it means that we get to laugh at ourselves, too. More seriously, it should be a reassuring fact to all of you that a lot of students face serious depression at some point during their college careers, and that's okay. You don't all have to be superheroes . . . and we don't expect you to be. The most we ask, usually, is that you shower before coming to our oversubscribed seminar classes without windows.
Listen: I've been around the block a while. I have three degrees including a Ph.D. from the same damn institution (nearly 11 years of the same cafeteria food). I've been a prep school kid in New England fighting to get into these absurd institutions. I've taught at a bunch of them after graduating from both the prep school and college levels. I see what it takes to get into these schools, but I also see how arbitrary the process can be. Your parents and you shouldn't be agonizing over this process in your senior year (or junior year, or for some of you, your 5th-grade year), whether you're from Missoula, Wellesley, Hattiesburg, or Singapore. You should just be spending the time with the ones you love and enjoying your final year of high school because - unless you're a real thug, you won't be getting that year back.
I think I possess a unique viewpoint which will help you understand how to approach these odd places, how to talk about and write about yourselves, and to demythologize much of the undeserved mystique. Everybody's mess smells the same, and we all still put on one pant leg at a time (presumably). I just want to make sure that everyone knows - whether you've "made it" into these rareified, manicured idylls or not - it ain't the end-all, be-all, and the craziness doesn't stop with the admissions process. And I think we can all take some pleasure in laughing at people inside the ivy walls, especially when it means that we get to laugh at ourselves, too. More seriously, it should be a reassuring fact to all of you that a lot of students face serious depression at some point during their college careers, and that's okay. You don't all have to be superheroes . . . and we don't expect you to be. The most we ask, usually, is that you shower before coming to our oversubscribed seminar classes without windows.
