Halloween and College

Instead of trick-or-treating or going to a Halloween party Tuesday night, Claire-Adele submitted online applications to two colleges while the Boy was at a movie with a bunch of friends. I am glad he wasn't home. The applications were due November 1, but she decided to submit the applications a day early just to get it over with. The websites were having problems on Monday, and there was major freak out in our home. There is enough drama with the applications that I didn't need to add a failing website to the pile and angst and anguish. She is freaked out enough by the whole competitiveness of the process, that I didn't need a late application due to technical errors contribute to her already insanely high level of stress.

Tuesday after dinner and homework, Claire-Adele hunkered down with her laptop at my desk. I cleared out so she could command the space. Jack sat next to her and read the final draft of her answers to the questions. This was the first time either of us saw her application aside from the part we had to fill out with all of our information.

"Maybe we should break out the champagne!" I said. The night before, Jack and Claire-Adele were screaming at each other. I thought I might need to be totally tanked to get through the night.

"I am not having any alcohol until after the marathon," said Jack.

Party pooper, I thought. I looked at Claire-Adele and raised my eyebrows. "Do you want some champagne?" I said. She smiled, "Are you serious?" Yes, I thought. Maybe a half a glass will cut the edge off.

"No," said Jack.

Ugh. I thought. I am not a big drinker but man I didn't want to go through this sober.

I needed a distraction, so I put on my wireless headphones and cranked up Macklemore's "And We Danced."

And we danced
And we cried
And we laughed and had a really really really good time.
Take my hand
Let's have a blast 
A remember this moment for the rest of our lives...

The night before, Claire-Adele was complaining how unfair the college admissions process is, and Jack was arguing against her.

"Some kids needs a leg up," he said. "They don't have as many opportunities as you have." Yes, that it true, but not what a stressed out seventeen year old needs to hear two days before her college applications are due.

"Why do these schools need so many athletes?" she said. "They have such an advantage just getting in." She is right, too, but again, this was not the time to debate the finer points of the college admissions process.

Just as my Macklemore song finished, Jack called me over to read one of Claire-Adele's answers. She wrote that she was inspired to studied politics because of my run for School Board two years ago.

"It's is different than watching an election on television," she wrote. "I remember the mail-biting drama of election night..."

I started to get a little teary. "Maybe you want to save that to a Word file," I said.

Two minutes later, there was hyperventilating from my office.

"The answer is gone," she said. "I meant to do a control-c and I did a control-v and now my perfect answer is gone!"

Jack came to her computer, hit a few "undo's" and the answer was back. Crisis averted. At the point, I decided to walk the dog. When I got back, I volunteered to pick up the Boy from a friend's house. I let Jack hold the bag here.

When I got back, Claire-Adele hit the send button. We were done for now.

The next morning, the New York Times had an article with a subtitle: Yes, college admissions are unfair. If I recall correctly, one-third of students at Harvard are legacies. Colleges consider the wealth of parents to determines who gets in. And colleges still need "an oboe and a goalie."

Which makes me thinks about the Boy. He plays bassoon and he is reasonably athletic. Jack and I went to a fancy college, so the Boy could possibly get legacy status there. Heck, he could phone in the rest of high school and still get in. I am joking, but not by much. On the other hand, why should all of these kids across the country have to kill themselves with stress and effort to get into what is perceived to be a "good" school?

A lottery might be a better choice to determine who gets into college. Kids would still have to apply, but they could get a notice that said "Congrats! You made the lottery. You have a better chance if you are a goalie or play an obscure musical instrument, but you are worthy! And if your parents have money, all the better!" It might not be more fair, but at least it would be transparent.