ADMISSION

I've always been straight with you.

Except when I exaggerate. Spew sarcasm. Or make stuff up.

Great Rulers sometimes do those sorts of things.

But they should also answer questions if the public demands answers (paying attention, politicos?!)

For the past three months, I have been asked a whole lot of questions, by a whole lot of folks interested in one particular subject.

College admissions.

Two days ago I completed a two-year journey to find two particular and perfect colleges for two perfectly amazing young ladies (not exaggerating about the ladies.)

Thousands of miles logged. Innumerable tours conducted by students who should have selected a work-study position in any department but admissions. Dozens of DOAs droning, "Your child has a better chance of being abducted by aliens than being accepted to our school. So be sure to encourage them to apply to lesser universities, too."

Wrap and tie all that up with the understanding that my beloved girls would soon be sleeping, eating, and living hundreds of miles away, and this gal spent far more time weeping than sleeping.

It's grueling.

 

And done (for three more years....yee haw!)

Being a spicy, i.e. more-than-seasoned veteran  of the college admissions process, I am now going to answer some of the questions inquired of me throughout this process.

Great Rulers sometimes do those sorts of things.

The questions have become ever more earnest - and numerous - since aliens decided to leave my kid alone, and let her attend college.

Here's my favorite one:

Q: How did your kid get into that school? 

A: Not sure.

People want numbers. Scores. Quotes from teacher recommendations. Lists of community service projects. Batting averages.

They want answers.

Pains me to say, I don't have any.  Because for two plus years, I've seen dozens of kids' hopes and dreams dashed, even though they way over-achieved grades, scores, medals, goodness.

Call me mystified.

Except for these verities:

You can' teach intellectual curiosity. But you can see it in your child, and fuel it continuously.

You can't teach passion. But you can note what it is your child most loves to watch, try, do, and make certain he has many opportunities to watch it, try it, do it.

You can't teach talent.  But you can encourage your child to pick up a trumpet, a paint brush, a basketball, then insist she give it a try.  

You can't teach success.  But you can demand effort, accountability, and a positive attitude.

Test scores and grades matter to colleges. As do personal essays and recommendations, community involvement, notable skills, and talents.

But if I had one response for "How did your kid get into that school?" I'd answer, "She read. Constantly. Every book in the house, the library, the bookstore - from Virgil to J.K. Rowling and everything in between."

And thus she learned language, vocabulary, geography, history, philosophy, poetry, and the psychology of human nature.

Reading matters. It expands the mind, heart, and soul; allowing us to experience and dream the unimaginable.

In our tweet-n-text world, we must constantly remind our kids (and ourselves) that reading makes a difference. It takes time, work, and thought, then breeds success. And joy.  

Perhaps we also need to remind our children, especially our high school seniors  (over and over and over again) that it's the choices they make - not the college or university they attend - that ultimately determines their happiness and success. 

What vocation to pursue. Talent to develop. Passion to share. Charity to help. Country to explore. Person to love.

In just a few months, Li'l Sis will be off on her own, making those choices - just like Big Sis.

Sorry, little bros. You get to stay home with your darling parents for a few more years. And read!

QUING Hereby Decrees: How to succeed? Simple answer.  READ!