There are currently around 100 colleges and universities in the U.S. that claim to offer need-blind admissions. Need blind sounds really great, but what exactly does it mean?
Need blind means that the school's admissions staff don't take your financial situation into account when they consider whether to accept or deny you. Your ability to pay isn't a factor. It does not mean that they don't know anything about your financial situation.
The first thing to understand is that it's not really a list. It's more of a pool. Students often ask questions like "what is my place on the wait list?", which really doesn't reflect how wait lists work. The people on a waiting list are not ranked. There's no order. There's no "top of the list" or "first in line."
Early Action is just like regular admissions...only you do it earlier. You have an earlier deadline, and you get an answer back early. Whereas most regular application deadlines are somewhere around January 1, most Early Action deadlines are around October 1. And instead of getting a decision back in March, you get it in December. It's not Early Decision--you aren't committed to going to the school if you get accepted. You have until May 1 to make your decision, and you're welcome to turn them down even though they accepted you Early Action.
Not all universities offer an Early Decision option, and each one might have its own fun little stipulations and rules. But the basic idea of Early Decision is that you turn in your application early, you get a decision from the school early, and if you get accepted you agree to go there and withdraw any other applications you may have also sent. This requirement that you enroll if you're accepted is why Early Decision is usually referred to as "binding." Early Decision is often confused with Early Action, which I'll write about separately next week. But for today, remember that Early Decision is exactly what it sounds like: you decide early that you really want to go this school; they decide early if they're going to accept you; if they do, then it's decided--early--that you will definitely go there.
I didn't hear back from Jack's March questions until April 1, when I was about to send April questions. So this will count as a March/April installation, and we'll hear back from him after he makes his final decision by May 1. It looks like he's going to be choosing between Pitzer and Brandeis, although you never know how last-minute decisions work out. Read the full interview below, and check back in May to see how things wrap up!
Let's be clear: getting a full scholarship is very rare. Fewer than one percent of college applicants end up getting to go for free. It takes more than just being a good student who wrote a good application essay. But still, one percent is still thousands of students a year, so you may want to do some thinking and planning, just in case.
Here's a simple rule to help you know how to think about full scholarships: you should not pass up a full ride. If you apply to a school and they offer you a full scholarship, go to that school.
Most American universities use some form of holistic admissions to determine who they will invite to enroll at their school. "Holistic" means that they look at the whole applicant and the whole application, and it usually means they look at the whole application together. There are no cut-off test scores; there is no formula for how to score and weight each portion of the application; there is no "magic bullet" that will earn you admission or get you rejected. This means that you can't necessarily make sense of the results by only looking at a part, because they take the whole into consideration. So a person may get accepted while someone with lower test scores does not. A person who writes a really crappy essay may still get accepted if the other parts of the application look great.
My main piece of advice for college campus visits, whether it's a multi-day event or a one-hour walkthrough, is to remember to be an active investigator while you're there. Unless it's just an early practice tour, you're not there to just be led around. Ok, you're literally there to be led around, but not in the big picture.
For many high school students, especially those in the 11th grade, Spring Break is the designated time for college campus visits. I wouldn't go so far as to say this is "normal." Lots of students do this, yes. But lots of students don't do many--or any--visits until they're seniors and visit only schools they've been admitted to. And plenty of students don't visit a college at all until they show up in the fall of their first year as college students. What's "normal" is up to you and what you think is really best for you. While I don't recommend skipping college visits altogether, neither do I recommend going on big multi-campus trips just for the heck of it.
Jack is beginning to get word back from schools, and most of it so far is good news! But one thing we've learned about Jack over the past six months is that he's always trying to do more. He says that, even though he's been accepted a few places and is still setting up interviews, he kind of wishes he could still apply to more schools. Here's the full interview below.
Now is the season when acceptance letters begin to arrive for a lot of seniors, and with those come financial aid packages. The bad news is that very few students receive "full ride" scholarship or aid packages that cover everything....When you get your aid offer, you're very likely to want it to be more. You're also pretty likely to need it to be more, though wanting and needing are different. How do you ask for more money?
Demonstrated interest is a term you'll hear often when people talk about college admissions. It means, well, exactly what it says: you've demonstrated that you're interested in a college you've applied to.
It seems like it should be obvious that you're interested if you've applied, but that's not necessarily the case. University admissions staff know that you may have applied because you really want to be there. They know that you may have applied because it's your safety school and not actually someplace you want to be if you can help it. They know that you may have applied because your boyfriend, girlfriend, or best friend applied, and you're actually kind of secretly hoping that you don't get in. They know that your family may have pressured you to apply. They know that you may actually have no idea why you applied--that happens all the time.
"I'm an English major. Would you like fries with that?" That was the joke back when I was an English major, and I imagine it's still the joke among English majors today, that four to six years of intense study is only going to put you in a minimum wage job. There's a pretty strong idea in our culture that people earning degrees in the Humanities are going to have difficulty finding good jobs. What exactly do I mean by Humanities? Each school defines its majors and departments a little differently, but as a rule of thumb think of degrees that require almost no math or science but lots of reading, and aren't geared toward a specific career. English, History, Philosophy, Religion, Languages. Things like that.
But does this stereotype hold up?
I was a little surprised to read last week that the people who have the most influence on high school students' college decisions is their parents. (You can read the full Department of Education report here.) For an example of why I found that surprising, consider that a friend told me that the number one question his high schooler son asks him about college is "why do you keep talking to me about college?" But it also makes sense, because your parents have been talking to you about college, directly or indirectly, like it or not, a lot longer than anyone else has. Unless you're going to completely ignore your family and go straight to the second-largest influence, "myself," you can get the most wisdom from what your family says to you.
You finally heard back from the school you really want to attend, and they put you on the waitlist. First, let me acknowledge that getting waitlisted sucks. In some ways a straight-up No would feel better than a Maybe, because then you could just start accepting the No and move on. But a Maybe? It both gives you hope that there might be a Yes, but also makes you act as though it's a No. It stinks.
