After months of anticipation, we have arrived at our first round of decisions.
We traipsed around the country meeting hopeful prospective Oliners. We survived reading season, squirreled away in our homes or offices pouring over applications. We gathered as the Admission Committee around a big conference table to decide whom we will meet at Candidates’ Weekends. We laughed and we argued. We teased each other the way siblings interact at the family dinner table. We made tough- really tough- decisions, both positive and negative. But most importantly: we marveled.
We marveled at your leadership, your ability to motivate your peers.
We marveled at your worldliness, despite your tiny town.
We marveled at how you kept your grades up while life was falling apart around you.
We marveled at how much you love books or building or backpacking.
We marveled at how much your teachers love you.
We marveled at your talents and skills and hope and desire to do good in the world.
We marveled at the number of mentions of Iron Man (or we marveled at how much you love Marvel!).
We marveled at your strength when your community doesn't understand you.
We marveled at the beauty and ache and comfort and boredom and joy in your everyday.
We marveled at the futures you dream for yourselves.
We marvel each day at the depth and breadth of our applicant pool and at the lives that live out before us in your applications.
We marvel at the number of incredible applicants that, sadly, we won’t get to meet. If you are not invited to Candidates’ Weekends, it is not a judgment on your worth or your future success but the unfortunate consequence of our tiny size. To invoke Dr. Seuss, “Kid, you’ll move mountains.”
We are lucky to work in admission and lucky to be a part of your stories. Thank you for showing us your world.