College Admissions and the 17 Year Old Brain
Earlier this week I had the chance to do one of my favorite things: talk to a group of high school parents about how the college admissions and financial aid process really works1.
I love giving these kinds of presentations for a lot of reasons. I want parents to feel less stress around a process that can feel shrouded in myth and mystery. I want to combat some of my least favorite popular conceptions about how higher ed works. And, frankly, my ego feels good when I can tell that people are listening to me and seeing me as an expert. I suspect that the combination of caring a lot about this subject, really knowing my shit, being able to crack a few jokes, and having a Leo’s love of attention makes me pretty good at this kind of thing.
(FWIW, I both don’t actually believe in astrology but am also pretty sure that I am a quintessential Leo.)
When I give presentations like this, there are a few points that I always make:
People tend to overestimate how difficult it is to get into college and underestimate how challenging it is to graduate, especially in four years.
Most colleges admit most of their applicants most of the time.
Yes, college costs are bananas and have increased dramatically over the last four decades for a host of both simple and complex reasons. Also true: most people who are attending private colleges are not paying the sticker price because of rampant tuition discounting.
There is no such thing as a perfect college. Most students could happily attend a variety of colleges and schools of the same type have more similar than they are different.
Too many families sleep on the advantages of community and technical colleges
Colleges aren’t as transparent as they should be about the process and their own selectivity. Early decision admissions programs are profoundly unethical and colleges should stop doing them and parents/students shouldn’t apply that way.
As you can likely tell, asking me to present means you’ll get a nice mixture of data, practical information, and some spicy takes about the world of higher ed admissions. I’m a good time.
***
Sometimes when I step back and really think about how we talk about college choices and how the process works, I’m staggered by how wide the gap is between what we are asking 17 year olds to do and what their brains are actually capable of at this stage of life.
When I was in grad school, I had a lot of course work in adolescent development theory. I could get real nerdy here and do a theory deep dive, but I hope you’ll trust me when I give a very broad summary of years of research by saying this: 17 year old brains aren’t done cooking yet.
Teens at this stage aren’t particularly well equipped (from a developmental perspective) to assess the long term impact of their choices. While they have a high degree of confidence in their own perceptions of their logical abilities (this is the nice science way of explaining why teenagers can be annoying know-it-alls at this stage), their actual decision making can be impulsive and driven by competing desires for maintaining status with their peers, pleasing their parents, finding independence, and reaching personal goals. These personal (and academic/career) goals can shift quickly and may be only vaguely defined… which makes sense, right? They haven’t had a ton of lived experience yet, so they are still figuring out how the world works. They are still figuring out themselves too and a lot of meaningful identity development is still ahead of them.
Side note: Over 1/3 of college students will transfer schools and the average traditional age college student will change their major three to five times. This makes absolute sense to me. From 18-24, people change A LOT, so of course their academic interests will change too.
I think one of the things that can feel stressful about the college admissions process is that it asks 17 year olds to make a lot of complex choices at a time when their ability to think about their future selves and to make choices to benefit their future self is still under construction. Our current cultural narratives about how admissions works makes it seem like the end result is that the kid should find their one true school and then figure out how to pay for it. It is a process that can be driven by fear and emotion and have a significant future financial impact that a 17 year old can’t really fully grasp.
(If choosing to go to college was based on strict financial logic, almost every kid who wants a four year degree and doesn’t have a fully funded 529 or full-ride merit scholarship would be financially better off starting at a community college and then transferring to an in-state public university. But college is an emotional choice, not just a financial one.)
One of the messages I try to give parents, and to especially give students, is that there isn’t one perfect college and that there isn’t a way to fail the college search process. It isn’t a zero sum game. Most decisions that get made in the process can be reversed. It doesn’t have to be a one and done experience. Students can try again2 after a gap year or as a transfer student or with a wholly new group of colleges. There is a place for everyone in the American higher ed system and, again, most students could have a great experience at multiple schools. There is no one perfect choice. A college is not a soulmate.
Which is part of the reason I really, really hate early decision programs.
(note: early decision is different than early action, which is non-binding)
Early decision (ED) is an (unethical) admissions option offered at a variety of more selective colleges and universities. When a student applies for early decision, they are required to commit that they’ve not submitting any other early applications at other schools. If they are accepted, they are required to withdraw their applications from any other schools and commit to attending their ED school. The deadline for early decision applications is usually around November and colleges will let applicants know in December if they are accepted.
I have several issues with ED programs. First, they require that a student make their college choice prior to knowing what their financial aid package will look like, so it is a policy that has some real risks for lower income and middle class students. While ED programs are not legally binding (nobody is going to jail for not following those rules) and generally include some kind of escape clause for situations where the student’s true level of financial need can’t be met, the process still disadvantages students when it comes to choice and timing (for example: if they don’t get their financial aid letter until the spring and they don’t get enough aid, they’ve now likely missed some application and scholarship deadlines for other schools). Second, students who apply ED and don’t get accepted may missed out on the opportunity to apply early at other schools and, sometimes, may have missed out on some scholarship deadlines or the first round of scholarship awards.
Students are told that ED is the way to go if you are positive about the school you want to go to and want to increase your odds of getting in. Many schools that have ED programs do have slightly higher admit rates for their ED pool than their regular admissions pool, so it does offer some measure of advantage. But make no mistake: ED policies are far more beneficial for colleges than they are for students.
ED admissions also hinges on the idea that a 17 or 18 year old should be able to identify, really early on, which is the best school for them. It presumes that the preferences a teenager has in August are going to be the same preferences that they’ll have in May. It rests on the idea that a teenager can understand the financial consequences of making a major life choice without knowing what it is going to cost them.
ED admissions programs make me wonder if the enrollment management people at those schools have ever actually met a teenager.
I should also say this: I don’t blame students for wanting to do ED for a college they think is the one true college. At that age, they can have such a sense of surety in their own decision making that it might be hard for them to imagine happiness at another school. It can feel like this is their one chance to “win” at college admissions by getting into some name brand school. For some students, they’ve been primed for years (by their parents, by their schools, by the media) to believe that a college acceptance is the whole damn point of high school.
They don’t know what they don’t know… but the colleges that run these programs do. If I was the queen of the higher education universe3 , I’d end ED entirely. It’s ethically wrong and it rewards economic privilege. We should all think a little bit less highly of schools that continue to offer this option.
***
My own son is 15 and at the early stage of the college search process. I know that as a parent, I’ll have to figure out how to guide him through this process in a way that balances both his growing independence and the fact that… well, I know a whole lot more about this stuff than he does, including that the process isn’t designed to play to the strengths of many teenage brains.
If I can do it right, I hope that he can find some fun in the process.
I’m hopeful that, if I can get him to hear the message that there are a lot of great choices and that he doesn’t actually have to worry about getting in4 , he can go into college visits with an open mind and use them as a time to imagine different versions for his future. This is the kind of thinking that a teenage brain is great at — getting to imagine how different versions of themselves might look in different cities or in different academic programs.
We can talk about the money side of things and about what his vision for adult life will look like (and what carrying $30K vs $70K in student loans can mean for that vision). I want him to know he doesn’t have to be a perfect student or write a perfect essay or do everything exactly right to have a great outcome to this process.
I mostly hope that he can end the college search process feeling more excited for the next stage of his life than just relieved that this one is over.