Joining

Whoever you are, oh, wise man or woman, who goes by “Counselor-O-Matic” on the Princeton Review web site, thank you for your kind wording for the kids who don’t do bupkis for extracurricular activities in high school.

I mean, the choice, “You are an independent spirit and usually shy away from group activities, preferring to do things on your own,” makes it seem downright ok to click that little circle and still imagine getting into a college of your dreams.

And the resulting matchmaking choices you render! You’d think all this hype about colleges looking for participation in numerous activities was pure bull!

If only you, oh wise Counselor-O-Matic whom I liken to the Wizard of Oz, behind a white curtain, with crazy white hair, and long fingers pressing all those matchmaking buttons, if only you were in the business of college admissions.

Since you’re not, but since you are part of the esteemed Princeton Review to whom all colleges and students are heedful, here’s a suggestion: Add a whole new category for colleges to consider when they’re looking for good students, something like, “As an independent spirit, what do you prefer to do on your own? Do you 1) Read literature? 2) Stay abreast of current events by reading newspapers and magazines on a regular basis? 3) Engage in discussions with others about the human condition? 4) Create art/poetry/short stories for yourself? Or 5) Use your thumbs for twiddling and text messaging?

Just think, if high school kids could lay claim to options one through four, wouldn’t it make for a great applicant? Wouldn’t a college admissions dean feel darn right smart about whom he was accepting to his hallowed school? Wouldn’t such an applicant reveal more about the authenticity of his character as someone who listed a multitude of extracurriculars?

I really hope that a shift back to a kind of authenticity is on the horizon; a time when a college applicant didn’t need to have a full resume of life experiences by age 17 to be a desirable candidate. But it’s going to take more than an esteemed web site, even if it can feature the omnipotent “Counselor-O-Matic,” to make the change.

Colleges are going to need proof that overscheduled high school kids don’t necessarily make great college students or even working adults.

Here’s a start.

The burn out rate for college students is the highest ever. But frighteningly, suicide is the second leading cause of death for college students with an alarming 9% reportedly seriously considering it. Add to that, nearly half of all students report having felt so depressed that they could not function in the previous year.

Does anyone get the picture yet? One admissions dean in my camp who was in charge of selecting students for prestigious M.I.T, was known for speaking out against the “hysteria” over admissions until she was ousted after admitting she was once hysterical enough herself to fabricate her college credentials. The admissions dean for the University of Pennsylvania once told the NY Times that he bemoaned the fact that kids didn’t get to just hang-out anymore.

I remember being a teenager in the late sixties and hearing about kids in China and Japan who had to go to school on Saturdays. Those kids had it bad. It was all academics and it was all about excelling. They were getting ahead of us, or we were getting behind, I don’t remember, but I do remember thinking that those kids must have been ready to explode for all the fun they had kicked out of them.

I’m quite sure there were discussions then about “us versus them” and we Americans were considered more humane and creative because we let children have childhoods.

Then I guess it was decided not too long ago that we were falling enough behind so we needed to create miniature adults too. Except we cleverly switched around some words and concepts and next thing you know, successful students had to not only be brilliant students of A.P coursework or International Baccuralaureate, (with Math and Sciences smarts a definite plus,) but also leaders of their several clubs, and church groups, as well as athletes and concert pianists.

What didn’t change at all was the number of hours in a day (that’s still 24,) and in a week, (that’s still 168).

So in those 24 hour days, the most desirable of college applicants is at school for the mandatory seven hours a day, taking A.P. and Honors courses which will require a minimum three to six hours of homework each night.

That’s using up nine to twelve hours, leaving twelve to fifteen.

Piano practice takes up a good hour a day. And German club meets once every two weeks, but organizing the church group for feeding starving children takes at least a couple of hours a week.

Running track, playing golf, tutoring fellow students, volunteering at the nursing home, they are all somehow squeezed into those 168 hours.

There is some sleep involved, and a few meals as well.

All in the name of getting into college.

Now I know I don’t have the energy of a high school student, but I just don’t think it is possible to develop introspective, creative, well-read young adults by filling their days, minute to minute, with activities and academics.

And if your goal is to seek higher education because you want to learn and eventually work in an area of your interest, shouldn’t you be rewarded for being a reader, a poet, or an artist, instead of being left out because you don’t fit the mold of joiner?

How did “Extracurricular Activities” and community service ascend to such importance?

Did it not start out as a way to level the playing field for those who may not have been born to academic greatness?

I may be guilty of over-simplification, but it drives me crazy to hear about kids who are so over-scheduled in this effort to level the playing field that the playing field is now totally uneven, in favor of the busy over-achievers.

I’m defensive about this because it is Hans’ application weakness. Is it really so wrong to be a kid who hangs out at home, spending time talking with family, reading the paper and news magazines like the Atlantic Monthly, checking out the latest in pop-culture by watching the latest episode of South Park or tuning into Brian Williams and the networks news?

If you’re not an extrovert, in fact, if you are an introvert, what does that say about your chances for success in getting into the college of your choice? Leadership seems a big buzz word, but if you’re not a leader, what then?

So about those kids with complete resumes by the ripe old age of 17. Do they have any idea what “navel gazing” is? What would they think about if they had more time? Can we give them permission to slow down?

Oh wise Counselor-O-Matic, can you help?