David Altshuler, M.S.
(305) 978-8917 | [email protected]

Rejected from Amherst, Percy Goes to Live in a Trailer Park with an Older Woman and her Three Children then Gets a Tattoo

College admissions counselors are taught to communicate that “Admissions is a match to be made, not a game to be won.” We are trained to help parents understand that a child who is academically and socially well suited to a university is more likely to succeed there than one who doesn’t fit.

Consider John, whose senior year course work includes algebra II, English, and government, none of which is at the advanced level. His electives include “Rock Music,” “Evolution of the Corduroy Suit,” “Weight Training,” and “Office Aid,” (“Thank you for contacting Schmendrick High; how may I direct your call?”) His grade point average is a low B, his test results about the national average. He has no significant extracurricular activities, participation in sports, or leadership. In his spare time he enjoys watching movies and playing video games. His recommendations, like his essays, are unexceptional.

If John were to be admitted to Amherst-he won’t be; mortgage the farm-he would not be predicted to be successful in the classroom where the overwhelming majority of his peers will have gotten top marks in advanced placement courses throughout high school. Most first year Amherst students have already successfully completed a year of calculus before going to Massachusetts. What math course will John take with only a background in algebra II? There are no courses at Amherst in which he can thrive. There are no other courses in any departments for which he has the requisite background and skills.

John’s failure to be graduated from a “top” college is not what is holding him back from achieving a PhD in philosophy from Princeton. John’s path diverged much earlier. That John can’t do well at Amherst is the sticky bit. It’s not that he can’t get it; it’s that he can’t get out.

Consider another student, this one who does have the course work, the background, the profile to be admitted to Amherst. But isn’t. Percy has five advanced placement courses as a senior, is captain and leading scorer on the lacrosse team, has 97th percentile SAT scores. His essays and his recommendations are both brilliant.

Here’s what never happens: Percy is rejected from Amherst and, as a result, doesn’t go to a four year college at all. Instead, he enrolls at the local community college, studies automotive repair, is unable to handle the curriculum, and flunks out. After drinking wine in the gutter for a number of years, he moves into a trailer with an older woman and her three children.

And then he gets a tattoo.

Oh, for goodness gracious sakes. You know what happens to Percy when he gets rejected from Amherst?

He goes to Colby. And then he goes to law school.

And lives happily–or as happily as he would have had he matriculated at Amherst–ever after.

Colby is one of our country’s great liberal arts colleges. In close to 30 years of practice, I’ve never sent a student there who ended up anything but blissfully happy. Maybe the average SAT scores of Amherst kids are slightly higher than those of the Colby kids. Whatever. If Percy has the profile to be admitted to Amherst and gets an unlucky roll of the dice-it happens-then he has the ability to be successful elsewhere. He goes to Colby and studies his butt off and learns a bunch and goes to grad school.

Unless of course Percy believes in “Amherst or Die.” In which case, he won’t go to Colby. He’ll sit around feeling wronged. He’ll say “what was the point of all that studying? Why did I take all those advanced placement courses? I have to go to Colby. Oh, the horror.” Here is a man who marries for money rather than for love. Here’s a man who doesn’t understand the joy of competition, who won’t play unless he knows he can win. Hyper-focused on the future, he is unable to enjoy now.

In which case he has deeper issues-problems that Amherst is not close to capable of addressing.

As always, it’s not the dog in the fight, it’s the fight in the dog. Kids with skill in and out of the classroom do well long term. Kids without ability have issues that are independent of their placement. The expression, “No matter where you go, there you are” is true of our psychological baggage as well as where our children end up going to college.

What’s the take away for loving parents who want what is best for their children? Focus on who your kids are, not where your kids are. Help your children acquire the skills that will allow them to be successful were they to be admitted to Amherst.

Because cream does rise to the top. Even if, as frequently occurs, Amherst happens to choose a different container.

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Copyright © David Altshuler 1980 – 2024    |    Miami, FL • Charlotte, NC     |    (305) 978-8917    |    [email protected]