I served on a college admissions committee throughout my senior year of college, helping a panel of admissions officers and professors decide who would best fill out the incoming class of 2027. Through the process, I got to read over 250 applications from prospective students, and worked with the committee to accept a subset who we thought would be great fits with the school and its community.
My inner high school senior felt betrayed the whole time.
I remember all the thoughts I had about these admissions committees as a senior in high school, applying to colleges and receiving my fair share of rejections. After putting hours upon hours into my applications (and the years of work that went into their contents), I felt frustrated. How could a committee decide my future after just a few minutes reading my application? If only they just got to know me, it would go differently, right? What could I have done differently to capture my readers?
While serving on an admissions committee did not necessarily change these underlying feelings – it’s still an incredibly difficult system for high schoolers to go through – it did give me an inside look into the college admissions process.
I want to share three takeaways I had as a committee member, and what that means for you, the applicant.
1. Ambivalence is the norm.
Going into this experience, I was prepared for rigorous debate over each applicant. Passions flaring as committee members fought tooth and nail for their favorites to be admitted.
Instead, two things happened. Firstly, on the outer edges (the definitely-admit’s and the absolutely-not’s), the committee agreed almost every time. There was rarely any debate. That in itself isn’t helpful — only a slim portion of applicants were in either category.
The vast majority ends up in that equally vast middle. And in that area, I was surprised by the general air of ambivalence around candidates. It wasn’t that the committee was split 50/50, it’s that their reactions were generally muted. Applications were acceptable but did not spark strong opinions either way. The tipping point for these candidates was if a member of the committee felt uniquely compelled by their application and was willing to vouch for their acceptance.
How, then, do you get someone to vouch for you? That’s the tricky part – there’s no way to know. A huge part of resonating with a stranger is luck, having that something special in common. But often, it was a writers’ voice, a unique story, a compelling recommendation, or some piece of their background, that moved accepted applicants from the ambivalent middle to the absolutely-accept.
Takeaway: Dig deep to find what makes you worth vouching for.
2. Reviewers scan. Check your boxes.
After enough applications, most readers get a sense of what they look for in an applicant, and their reading process gets streamlined. Large portions of your application – grades, scores, etc. (especially the numbers) – receive cursory glances before the reader goes to whatever it is that they find the most value from. I personally resonated the most with teacher recommendations and found myself reading those the most intently.
What does that mean for you? Every part of your application will not receive extreme scrutiny. It’s impossible. BUT, every part of your application may receive some. In fact, a quick scan leaves little room for nuance, especially on scores, grades, class ranks, and other numbers. Holistic applications are great because you have a million things that can outweigh the bad components. But it also means that someone will glance, at least passingly, at every component.
Takeaway: Check your boxes. Cover your bases.
3. Despite best intentions, applications blur.
I don’t care what anyone tells you. Forget 250 applications, I found it hard to keep precise track of applicants past the 20 mark. At many universities, admissions officers read hundreds more applications than I did. Every reader has some system for notetaking, which they then bring into committee discussions.
What was fascinating to me was the shorthand we quickly adopted to refer to different applicants. A name alone rarely sticks in the memory. Instead, it was unique tidbits about each candidate that the committee happened to latch onto. An applicant who mentioned an affinity for writing romantic poetry was discussed as the ‘poet’, for example, and remained memorable because of it. Regardless of whether these applicants were accepted or not, we had some reference to remember them by in discussions.
Takeaway: Give your committee tidbits to latch onto.
My biggest takeaway from the experience, though, is that committees are on your side.
Every reader is looking for a reason to vouch for you, not to reject you. College admitted classes are made up of applicants who had a reader vouch for them in the committee room. You have the potential, through a well-crafted application, to make yourself one of them.
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