In the previous issue of The Choate News, Anselm Kizza-Besigye ’17 wrote an Opinions piece titled “The College Conundrum,” and in it, he explored the often harmful ways with which we approach conversations about college applications and decisions. As no words of my own can capture the eloquence with which Kizza-Besigye writes, I will quote a few sentences instead.
Regarding a rejection letter he received, Kizza-Besigye reflected, “Though none of my accomplishments or attributes had disappeared, I felt as though a few individuals’ appraisal had diminished the value of my qualifications.”
And a few paragraphs later, he then articulated what I interpreted to be a central point of his argument:
“We also create a hostile environment for the proliferation of covert, often unfriendly gossip when we normalize our reclusive behavior surrounding college. By approaching college decisions with silence and caution, we make our processes topics of backroom conversation, rather than trying experiences to which we can all relate.”
While I agree that there are certainly issues with the gossip-ridden culture that surrounds college related discussions, I would like to push back on the points Kizza-Besigye raises in the above two quotes.
Let’s start with the first one. It perpetuates a common piece of advice that we are given throughout this process by counselors, advisers, and even our peers: that not getting into a college does not imply failure.
Except — it does.
Logically speaking, if you like a college, decide to apply to the college, try your best to get in to the college, and then get rejected, you have failed.
And so, contrary to Kizza-Besigye’s remark, I believe that college rejections do diminish the value of your qualifications. They show that for at least one reason (and this reason may very well be an artificial product of the inherent biases of admissions criteria), ultimately, the rejected applicant, by definition, did not qualify for an acceptance.
Of course, college is not the be-all-end-all standard for achievement in life, but there is such a thing as success and failure within the admissions process. It’s simple: if you got in, you succeeded; if you did not, then you failed.
For me, personally, I have already failed to earn an acceptance to some colleges; I also anticipate failing to earn an acceptance to many more. I am of the firm belief that I have failed and will continue to fail because I am just not good enough to be admitted into certain institutions.
Even if you agree with me, the natural next question is: so what? What is the benefit, you ask, of self-critical language like “failure” and “not good enough”?
In my experience, its effect is to make college admissions a personal process concerning you (as in, an individual) and your accomplishments (or the lack thereof) rather than a competitive process against one another. If I look to other people who I know have gotten into schools that I haven’t, my instinctive reaction is to compare myself to them, but if I step back and question the merit of my own credentials, I can avoid the damaging culture of bringing down other people.
That brings me to the second quote from Kizza-Besigye: the notion that our environment on college issues is “hostile” because we are not open enough about it, and so the natural solution is to discuss it more freely. I would argue in favor of the opposite remedy: in order to eliminate any unhealthy college dialogue, we should eliminate all college dialogue.
Yes, that’s right. I believe that from the day we are assigned our counselor until May 1st when we submit our enrollment deposit, we should just not talk about college.
I remember four years ago, when I was applying to boarding schools, I told absolutely none of my classmates, including my closest friends, about what I was doing. They had not the slightest idea where I applied or that I was even applying. It was not until I was one-hundred percent sure of my decision that I informed them I would be attending Choate come fall.
Looking back, I am very glad that I made that decision as a middle schooler. By not sharing anything about the process with others, it became entirely about me doing the best I could to create a thoughtful application.
I am not proposing that the school enforce this deliberately extreme suggestion of mine, to eliminate all college dialogue, because that would be a ridiculous and obvious violation of free speech. Within reason, people should talk about what they want to talk about if they want to talk about it.
I am proposing, however, that we as a community rethink the purpose of these college conversations. Does bringing up the topic of applying to college on a regular basis do more good or more harm? I lean toward the latter.
