Speak Out

While I’ve been editing this essay to make it meaningful for parents of high schoolers and approachable for students on the verge of applying to college, the Editorial Board at the New York Times beat me to the punch. That’s fine. As a fledgling blog-writer with racing thoughts and ideas I often second-guess myself; today I feel validated.

Last week, the New York Times published an essay written by a senior at the University of Virginia. Emma Camp offered a critical reflection of her time in the lecture hall, recounting experiences when she self-censored her perspectives from class discussions for fear of ostracism from her classmates. She writes, “I went to college to learn from my professors and peers. I welcomed an environment that champions intellectual diversity and rigorous disagreement. Instead, my college experience has been defined by strict ideological conformity. Students of all political persuasions hold back — in class discussions, in friendly conversations, on social media — from saying what we really think.”

Lurking in the shallows under Emma’s words is an issue she did not specifically address by name. But I will, because I believe we must critically evaluate society’s pervasive use of cancel culture as a replacement for respectful civil discourse. I think it is imperative for high school students to examine cancel culture in light of college’s promise to challenge norms, open minds, and foster learning. Chilling speech to the point of silence, where classrooms are simply filled with lectures that don’t lead to fervent, respectful debates, or at the very least a sharing of opinions, is anathema to the very point of going to college. Educators attempt to instill in their students the values of respect and tolerance from Kindergarten through senior year of high school. Where then has this behavior of cancelling come from? It is akin to a toddler’s tantrum, utter stubbornness towards listening to an alternative perspective, solution, or idea. Universities must not tolerate it any longer.

In a time when being “followed” and “liked” translates into self-worth, enduring social backlash from offering opinions in the classroom doesn’t seem worth it for college students. A hypocrisy has come to exist among the student bodies at institutions across the country. College students on both sides of the political spectrum use freedom of speech as justification for their expression in certain environments, like peaceful protests or group meetings for organizations to which they belong. These same students, however, shame others with opposing views to the point where classroom dialogue is severely chilled and education is compromised. If college is no longer the place for students to grab their backpacks and approach one another for further discussion on the way to their next class or dining hall, where is it?

Until institutions put real solutions to this problem into action, what can students who have looked forward to exchanging ideas, debating with peers, and broadening their horizons do to better ensure they will enroll at a school with an accepting student body, with professors that welcome ideological challenge?

I have several pieces of helpful advice.

Interview Your Campus Tour Guides: Campus tours are often led by student ambassadors. They will introduce themselves, share their field of study, and even point out the dorm they lived in freshman year. These students are an approachable, direct source of information about classroom culture at the school. Don’t sleep on this opportunity to hear firsthand whether this aspect of academics is well-tolerated at the school.

Email Professors: Course catalogs are readily available online, even to prospective students. Along with the class description is the professor who will be teaching the section. If their email is not outright listed in the catalogue, searching their name on the university’s website will easily bring you to their bio and contact information. Use it. Send them a quick note explaining you are interested in perhaps taking their course and curious about the environment of dialogue in the classroom. The professor may not respond, but it’s worth the 10 minutes of effort for a 10 week course.

On top of that, Google professors of courses you find interesting. See the topics of their academic papers and familiarize yourself with the views they espouse to gauge your comfort level with their politics.

Twitter: Searching for “cancel culture [name of institution]” returns an interesting array of perspectives and links to current news stories. Anyone interested in this subject matter could get lost for hours reading about experiences and occurrences happening daily across U.S. universities. Think of it less as social media and more as a new age research tool for digging deeper into the college search.

In closing, I want to encourage parents and students to give serious consideration to these issues. College should provide an environment conducive to the unfettered sharing of ideas. The classroom should be a place of intellectual stimulation and growth, a neutral territory to address contentious issues, debate solutions, and find common ground. Perpetuating all or nothing attitudes towards others stifles compromise and humility. I implore you to prioritize the ability to think and speak freely in college classrooms, to be fearless in stating a wrong answer or an ill-founded idea, so that you can more meaningfully learn about yourself and from others.

Trust Your Instinct

The Common App announced in January that their essay prompts for the 2022-23 application season would remain the same as last year. The seven topics are broad. Students can share nearly anything meaningful from their lives and make it fit into one or more of the prompts. The Common App limits the narrative to 650 words. While that may seem like a decent length, even the most concise writers will be faced with the arduous task of paring their work down without losing the essence of the piece.

But what about essays that ask applicants for much shorter responses? My students encountered many this past fall. The University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill asked applicants for 25 word responses to questions like “This I Believe” and “One Family Tradition I Cherish.” Princeton University had a whopping seven supplemental essays; three of them had a 50 word limit. My favorite was: “what brings you joy?"

So what are admissions officers looking for in such a short answer?

Raw, instinctual honesty. An answer that elicits an uninhibited truth from the applicant. An additional tidbit of information that lends a new perspective to the 3D person behind the words on the screen. The hardest part of answering this question is accepting the vulnerability and sincerity for which it asks. Students may think their answer doesn’t support their individualism and search for something they believe the admissions team wants to see. But with six other opportunities in addition to the Common App essay for Princeton to examine its potential admits, clearly the university just wants another nugget to weigh before making the ultimate decision.

So what does 50 words look like? I mentally traveled back in time to 17 years old and asked myself what brought me joy. First instinct: playing cards for hours with my grandmother. And then I shaped my language.

Playing gin rummy for hours with my grandmother while her soap opera softly plays brings me joy. She keeps a napkin wrapped around her glass of diet coke. We play methodically, the moves coming fast and natural like speed chess, with a little trash talk and a lot of laughter.

Fifty words on the nose that took me about 10 minutes. While an anxious applicant may overanalyze this answer as uninteresting, I think an admissions officer sees that I value family relationships. I have a games mind. I have a sense of humor. I notice details.

Do not shy away from certain aspects of yourself to focus on other traits you're convinced have added value. When you tour colleges, you will see the most modern amenities the school offers as well as facilities that could use a renovation. The university isn’t hiding anything and neither should you. Essay prompts like this clearly indicate that the institution wants to know even more about who you are over and above the Common App’s 650 words. Seize the opportunity and tell them.

If I Had To Write A Common App Essay In 650 Words

I graduated law school when my first child was 8 weeks old. My dining room table was cluttered with case books while my kitchen was covered in bottles. Her baby brother came 18 months later. I fell into being an educated stay-at-home-mom, and I loved it. Until I wanted more.

When my little ones were in preschool, I decided to take the bar exam. Friends encouraged me and said I was crazy in the same breath. But when I say I’m going to do something, I do it and then some. With my face buried in books again, I welcomed that familiar pressure to beat a test. To say I overstudied would be an understatement: I practically aced the thing.

Figuring out my next step proved more difficult. I had a satisfying experience working in law before grad school. I learned a great deal in that job, namely that I didn’t want to negotiate the minutia of employment contracts or licensing agreements. It wasn’t for me. Where was the opportunity to make a difference for others? I started law school hopeful that I’d find my place in the legal field. While I enjoyed most of my classes, nothing moved me to say, “THIS. This is what I want.”

Some of the best courses I took focused on psychology and the law. I contacted the professor and he directed me to a colleague of his. She practiced education law, dealing with a range of issues affecting neurodiverse and disabled students and their families. When she explained she didn’t have time for an apprentice, I remember clear as day that she said, almost with a tone of discouragement, “you know there’s no money in this field.” I didn’t hesitate in my response: “that’s not why I did this.”

In hindsight, I can see I was excited but unfocused. I wanted an opportunity and I was eager to find one. But I couldn’t put my finger on the specifics of what I wanted it to involve and how I could shape my life to actually take advantage of it. I just wanted it to immediately appear and be the perfect fit. It turns out one can be that naive in her early 30s.

In hindsight, I’m glad that perfect job didn’t fall into my lap. (Not that there is such a thing, and not that such a thing ever happens!) I can wonder if it would have eventually led me to the world of college admissions or perhaps education policy, but why waste the time.

Hindsight is a funny thing. For years, I looked back on law school with regret, an expensive misstep. I blamed my college counselor at UCLA, crafting the words I wish he’d have said to have compelled me to explore other opportunities. Oftentimes when I spoke my mind or stood up for my beliefs others would tell me I should be a lawyer, and I chastised myself for having listened. My perspective changed as my appreciation for my education grew. Looking back encouraged me to look ahead with clarity and confidence.

And here I am, having found the aspects of the law I enjoy most in college admissions. What I do aligns with my personal and professional beliefs. I value educators and other professionals positively impacting students and I’m proud to join their ranks. I make a demonstrable difference to my clients on a human level. I research processes and complexities and make them easier to understand for others. I learn from my clients. I remain current on hot topics, news and policy that genuinely interests me in an effort to be a better advocate and counselor. And I write.

A good counselor knows the steps to help students navigate the system. A great counselor uses one’s life experiences and lessons to help others achieve success. Let’s look forward together.