Every September, I conduct a college essay-writing workshop that seems like one giant Dr. Phil show. I start out with 60 anxious high school seniors, and end the class with nearly all of them reassured, sporting a “can do” attitude and the beginning of a good essay.
The stakes have never been higher. Each year, the number of applicants increases as the percentage accepted to selective schools decreases. Yet many parents and students have not altered their goals: Ivy League and other schools at the top of national rankings continue to be where their egos are invested, despite the odds.
Self-image is at the heart of the problem. Students approach college applications the same way the rest of us approach job interviews: They think they need to measure up to a Platonic ideal of perfection.
Just as this may result in stilted responses in a job interview, the college essay bears the scars of students’ misguided notion of what colleges want. Parents never help matters. We know our children better than anyone, and though we may find their flaws endearing, we certainly don’t want those personality quirks trumpeted on paper for college admissions officers.
But that’s just what college admissions officers want: living, breathing, flawed adolescents. What they don’t want: applicants whose qualities are homogenized to sound like everyone else.
The best way to convince students that their writing should reflect who they really are is by example. I show them a series of excellent essays from a wide variety of students. The only characteristic they have in common is their ability to write concretely and visually. Thirty minutes later, students will remember every one of the applicants vividly, and that’s the goal of a college essay.
The easiest way for students to inject personality into their words is to begin with an illustration rather than an explanation. I ask students to think of a major event or person in their lives to write about — not directly, but by “dropping the reader into the action,” so we see the event or person before the student explains their significance.
I encourage them to quote others. It might be a coach yelling at them on the field, or an ice cream store employee asking if they have decided on a flavor. It might even be an interior monologue as the student prepares for a big moment. Quoting someone’s words literally gives personality to their essays.
In 15 short minutes toward the end of my workshop, most of my students have generated a first paragraph that sounds real, immediate, funny, quirky and occasionally outlandish.
It’s just a beginning, and there are no guarantees. But sending a college an essay that doesn’t sound like anyone else’s is the best way to set an applicant apart.
Of course, I like teaching Shakespeare and John Donne the remainder of the year, but my favorite class is the one where I show students how to slay a personal dragon and make their writing reflect who they really are. That lesson will outlast the interminable college application process and leads to self-acceptance and — just maybe — to a college acceptance as well.
Erica Jacobs teaches at Oakton High School and George Mason University. E-mail her at [email protected].
