Once, applying to college was relatively simple. But now, record numbers of students are graduating from high school and competing for spots in elite colleges. Students devote months to boosting test scores and agonizing over choices. For many high school seniors and their families, it can be an overwhelming ordeal.
Tommy DeMarco took the ACT in April and was crushed when he saw his score: 24. That's not bad, two points above the state average. But he'd hoped for closer to 30. He signed up for a retake in June. "I had one week of summer to get ready," he said. "I read a 300-page book and did everything I could to prepare." New score: 26. Disappointment again. When a college admission counselor suggested he take the test a third time, Tommy nodded but didn't say anything. Privately, he thought, "Forget it." With all the other things he had to do, "it's too much," he said later, and his parents agreed.
Like many other high school seniors, Tommy was starting to feel overwhelmed by the demands of finding a college -- a process that many say is spinning out of control.
"The tension around this process is at least as high as NASA's when they're trying to bring a shuttle back to Earth," said education consultant Susan Sykes.
Applying to college used to be relatively simple. Students took the ACT or the SAT college entrance exam, applied to a couple of colleges and chose one.
Now, for many seniors, applying to college has turned their final year of high school into an all-consuming, pressure-filled ordeal.
It's not uncommon for a student to apply to seven or eight schools and take the SAT twice and the ACT three times. Parents can spend hundreds, even thousands of dollars on test-prep courses, tutors and travel for campus tours, all in hopes of giving their teen an advantage for acceptance into elite four-year colleges.
The competition isn't an illusion. More students are graduating from high school in the United States than ever, with the numbers expected to peak in 2009 at more than 3.3 million. And with more graduating, more are heading to college than ever before.
In the mid-1970s, about 48 percent of students went directly on to college. Today, it's 62 percent. Although there's plenty of room overall -- the average college admits seven of every 10 applicants -- students are scrambling to stand out. The pressure comes from all sides: from themselves, their parents, and their peers.
The lives of four area students, whom the Star Tribune will follow through their senior year, help tell that story.
Rui Luna Yang, a girl with high ambition and top grades, toured elite schools this summer. She hopes to attend one but is braced for possible disappointment.
Tommy has toured so many campuses they're all merging in his brain.
For Jennifer VonFelden, the months zipped by without time to do the things she'd planned -- visit some campuses and bone up for a retake of her ACT.
And Mao Lee spent the summer working in her family's vegetable garden and in their Farmers Market booth. For her, college planning would have to wait.
Too busy for a campus visit
On a warm August night, Jen closed her bedroom door and propped her pillow against her headboard. She hauled out the 400-page "ACT for Dummies" that she had bought for $17 at the Edina Barnes and Noble, and for the next half-hour, she sprawled on her bed, exploring the strategies behind the test.
Jen had taken the ACT in June and had gotten a solid score of 25 -- above the state average of 22, but well below a perfect 36. She has a better-than-A average at Richfield High School, a part-time job and a solid résumé, but she knows how important the ACT is. A higher score could help her get into her school of choice and possibly get a scholarship.
The test is offered again in October, and she plans to be there, armed with new tactics.
"Everybody wants me to do well," she said. "I want to show them their faith isn't misplaced."
Jen wants to attend a big public school, where she can meet more people and have a broader range of academic choices than she might at a smaller school. Beyond that, though, she's not sure. She's leaning toward the University of Minnesota or the University of Wisconsin.
She has yet to make an official visit to either campus, and though the U called her several times over the summer, she hasn't had time to visit. Trying to save money for college by working nearly full time at Herberger's got in the way.
And she's trying to navigate the complicated world of college admissions largely on her own.
If Jen graduates from college, she'll be the first in her immediate family to get a degree. Her parents admit they're not much help in navigating the ins and outs of the application process. Jen has been relying on advice from a cousin and an aunt who have college degrees.
"I feel absolutely helpless with this," said her mother, Terri. But she and her husband, Bruce, are determined that their daughter get that diploma.
"The economy is getting so two-sided, you've got here and here," Terri said, placing her hands a foot apart on the kitchen table.
"And there's nothing in between. You either get the degree, or you're flipping burgers."
Perfection might not be enough
Zzzzzt. Zzzzzt. Luna's cell phone vibrated next to her bed, sounding the alarm at 5 o'clock on a dark April morning. She shot out of bed and raced barefoot down the stairs to the computer.
The College Board website was slow to load, overwhelmed with students who, like Luna, were anxiously getting their first look at their SAT scores. She'd left her glasses upstairs, and the screen was blurry. She typed in her name and password and squinted at the page.
800. 800. 800.
I know that's how the test is scored, she remembers thinking; I want to know my score.
And then it dawned on her: That was her score.
A perfect 2400.
I'm dreaming, she thought, and logged off and logged on again. The numbers didn't change. 2400.
Luna was a small child when she told her parents she wanted to go to Harvard. She still does, though she's now also interested in schools like Yale, the Massachusetts Institute of Technology and the University of Chicago.
She hasn't had anything but straight A's since ninth grade. She's on the math and tennis teams at Wayzata High School, speaks and reads Mandarin Chinese, plays the piano and writes science fiction. Concerned that she was too introverted, she went out for debate. She volunteers at the library, a Chinese dance center and a hospital.
But is the fat résumé enough to get into Harvard or MIT? At Harvard, every student is a star -- and so are most of those who are rejected. Grades and résumés like hers are common. It might take something more for Luna to stand out. She knows that.
Her mother, worried about the cost of an Ivy League education, wants Luna to apply to the University of Minnesota and the University of Wisconsin, and Luna has said she will. But she still wants to try for that highest rung of schools.
"Academically, I've done as well as I can," Luna said. "I've decided that if I'm rejected, I'm rejected. You move on."
Swimming in catalogs
As he stepped onto the North Dakota State University campus in Fargo, Tommy considered his aunt's advice: See what it feels like.
He willed himself to be open-minded. The tour guide was charming, the benefits impressive: free laundry, on-campus doctors. But NDSU didn't feel right to Tommy.
They were about to meet with an admissions counselor, but Tommy had already made up his mind. "Mom, can't I just leave?" he asked his mother, Ann.
NDSU and Concordia College in Moorhead were Tommy's final campus visits of the summer. He'd seen 10 campuses in less than a year. St. John's University in Collegeville and St. Olaf College were at the top of his list. But after so many tours, his head was spinning.
"They're all starting to blend together," he said.
All summer, his mailbox overflowed with college brochures from all over the country. Too busy with three jobs to look at them, he tossed them into grocery bags that grew fatter by the week.
Tommy is captain of Cretin-Derham Hall's swim team, drum major in the band, and has a résumé heavy on honors and advanced courses. His grades put him near the top of his class, and last spring he was one of just 25 Minnesota students to get an ExCEL Award from the State High School League for his leadership, volunteer and school achievements.
Even with a résumé like that, he might not get a scholarship, and two college admissions counselors suggested that he retake the ACT.
Close to home or far away?
Nearly every day this summer, Mao was up before 5 a.m. She threw on her clothes and helped her parents and sister hoist crates of homegrown tomatoes, zucchini, onions, potatoes and squash into their blue van. They needed to set up their booth at the Minneapolis Farmers Market before the 6 a.m. opening.
They all came back around 2:30 for the first meal of the day -- usually a vegetable stir-fry with rice. Then back out again before rush hour to weed, pick, pack and wash vegetables until dark.
By the time Mao finally headed to bed, it was midnight.
If her Admission Possible coach at Henry High School in Minneapolis had her way, Mao would have spent the summer in volunteer or enrichment programs that could boost her résumé. The nonprofit group helps low-income teenagers in Minneapolis and St. Paul public schools who are good students prepare for college. Last year, 95 percent of the program's graduates went on to a four-year school.
The program coaches students on preparing for entrance exams, financial aid forms and college applications. Program counselors also take students on college tours, but family obligations caused Mao to miss all but one.
Though her parents urge her to go to college, she worries about them. They speak little English, and there are five younger kids at home to care for.
All summer, as Mao weeded beans and watermelons and made change at the market, she wrestled with the question: Should she go away to college, leaving family responsibilities behind? Or should she stay close to home and divide her energy between school and family?
A skilled writer with near-perfect grades, Mao took the ACT practice test four times, raising her score from 16 to 20. She took the real thing in April, again getting a 20. She doesn't want to take it again, and Admission Possible officials say they don't insist.
When Mao was asked to write a letter of self-recommendation, she wrote, "Mao is a student who is ready to make a change ... She is a student who does not let anything bring her down ... Sometimes she tries to help so many of her friends that she forgets to take care of herself."
A few packed months to go
With the deadline for college applications looming, Jen, Luna, Mao and Tommy can't do much to boost their grades or volunteer activities in time to make a difference. They have just a few months to retake the ACT, visit campuses, winnow school choices and finally apply.
And once they pick colleges, there's no guarantee the colleges will pick them.
Luna knows that.
"At times I get worked up about it," she said. "The main thing is to keep in mind it's not the end of the world. Your friends will still accept you even if you don't get into Harvard or Yale. It's not a dead end."
But it is a big deal, said Tommy. "It's the most important decision in your life so far," he said. "It's kind of scary."
Mary Jane Smetanka 612-673-7380 smetan@startribune.com
![]() Open positions!A new career awaits. Look through thousands of listings to find your new job. Start now!![]() No resume? No problem!Create a skills profile in minutes, let a recruiter match you to an open position. Click here to get started. |
Win tickets to The Midnight Movie Society's screening of "Clue" at Red Stag Supperclub.Vita.mn and DJ Jake Rudh present the first meeting of The Midnight Movie Society at Red Stag Supperclub on Dec. 4, with drinking, dancing and a midnight screening of cult-classic film, "Clue." |
Comment on this story | Be the first to comment | Hide reader comments