My life changed the day that I took the PSAT. It wasn’t because I earned an unprecedented score and won a scholarship, or because I earned an abominable score and decided I would clean hotels for the rest of my life, but because I checked the box that asked, can we share your information with colleges?
I wasn’t aware of the impact it would have on me; I merely reasoned that gaining information from colleges might be helpful, and anyway I could unsubscribe whenever I wanted to.
I got the first email in December, from North Dakota State University, and received fourteen more before the next week. By the time I began unsubscribing I could sympathize with Uncle Vernon and his increasingly hysterical attempts to escape Harry Potter’s Hogwarts invitations. Nevertheless, those colleges had helped me exponentially more than I anticipated.
For example, more than eleven colleges sent me emails that were exactly the same, so I wouldn’t have to read them all. COVID has been hard, they all began, and changed many things; but one thing hasn’t changed and it is that you, Ellen, are an incredibly gifted student. Incredibly gifted! We want you to succeed in life, so here’s a guide (complete with information about our college and a virtual campus tour!)–A guide? I didn’t even know I needed that until you said so!–to help you choose the best place for your tertiary education. And, hint hint, that place is us!
These colleges also thoughtfully eliminated the necessity of making design choices, as they sent me large posters to decorate my room. There were purple ones from Kenyon College depicting clasped hands that would contrast nicely with my black and white chair. There was a colorful one from RIT announcing, “Ellen, you’re always on to something amazing,” that I could hang opposite my bed so I would be empowered by it every morning. And that was only the surface of their thoughtfulness: as the pandemic toilet paper crisis persisted, they mailed me so many flyers that I knew I was covered if we ran out of Charmin.
How could I not realize that I was the best person in the world when this was happening? Trust me, if you’re feeling at all bad about yourself, just become a junior in high school. “I seek out students of the highest caliber,” Robert McCullough from Case Western Reserve University wrote, “to help them discover which college is the right place for them–and you’re one of the students I’m most interested in contacting.” The Stevens Institute of Technology pleaded, “I’d love to help you find a school as innovative as you are” (nevermind that I hate math and science). But none top the University of Sioux Falls, which announced, “I can see you creating lasting change in the world.” I am a top student who is creative and is transforming my country. Or so I am told.
But how do these colleges know if that’s really the case? The most they could ever find out about my academic performance is my PSAT score, which wasn’t all that wild. And they can’t learn anything about my extracurricular activities. I could be failing all my classes and binge watching Netflix and they would still prattle on about my outstanding accomplishments.
I know that they’re more interested in my tuition check than they are in me–they have to keep their unique campuses up and running, after all. That’s one reason colleges ask for a student’s ACT score. This American Life observed that colleges can use it to predict how much money a student has. What college won’t try to draw the rich kids? In this light, then, their emails seem a little false. They tell me they value me, but to most of them I’m just another twenty-thousand dollar check. And that irks me. Yet it doesn’t bother me that I’m not worth much to colleges (that’s just reality), but it does bother me that they say I am.
These colleges are flattering me. They tell me that I’m an amazing person and they hope that I will like them for that. But flattery isn’t valuing other people. I could walk up to a person I’ve never seen and tell them that they are kind! And compassionate! Funny! An all-around wonderful human! And they would look at me like I was crazy–you’ve never met me, why are you talking like that? In order to truly affirm someone, you have to spend time getting to know them, and most of us don’t get to know people we don’t value. If my friend does something really amazing, and I tell her, she will appreciate it more coming from someone who knows her well than from someone who doesn’t. Valuing someone results in telling them the truth, especially if it’s not pleasant. It shows that you care about a person enough to help them become a better person, even at the risk of making them angry. If my friend told a lie, I would confront her because I like her and I want her to be trustworthy. Once time has passed, she would see that as evidence of my valuing her.
I have a lot of experience with this, but one incident has stuck with me longer than all the others. It was my parents’ anniversary, so my three younger siblings and I were spending the night at my grandparent’s house. While we were there, I made a number of sarcastic and hurtful jokes about my sister. She is very gracious and didn’t say anything to me in response, and I didn’t apologize even though I knew I’d made her upset. My grandma saw all these interactions and pulled me aside. She gently scolded me and encouraged me to be nicer in the future. I still think about that, and it happened three or four years ago.
The reason my grandma did what she did was because she loved me and my sister. She didn’t want my sister to be hurt, but she didn’t want me to be a hurtful person either. Telling someone the truth is a sign of valuing them, and if that person really values you in return, it will eventually mean a lot to them. Of course, if that doesn’t sit well, there’s always the other option. I could read my college letters and simply assume that I am incredibly special. Let me explain: those colleges really believe in me. I have many reasons to think this.
Works Cited
“The Campus Tour Has Been Cancelled.” This American Life, 19 Apr. 2021, www.thisamericanlife.org/734/the-campus-tour-has-been-cancelled
Featured image courtesy of the author.
Ellen Sheehy 