As a freshman here at Boston College, the nightmares of college applications live fresh in my mind: the hours of writing and submitting essays, recommendation letters, and activities lists filled with everything I thought mattered for admissions officers to see when deciding on my future. Not only was the stress at an all-time high, but so was the pressure and anxiety to make the right choices and put forward the best representation of yourself for strangers.
Last year, in particular, left students both exhausted and dejected; per the CDC, the birth rate in 2007, the year that the Class of 2029 was born, was an astronomical 4,316,233 births, the largest recorded at the time for a single year in the United States. Coupled with college admissions, the problem is obvious: too many students vying for too few admission spots. Even BC’s own admissions reflect this challenge, with the university reporting a record-low admit rate of 12.6%.
As a result, college applications are becoming increasingly more specific, targeted, and tactical. Tutors are consulted for everything—from classes to SAT or ACT prep—and coaches are hired to paint the perfect image of the applicant for any top school. But catering to exactly what one thinks the admissions office at some university wants to see is rarely an accurate reflection of the student themselves. In this way, we’ve lost a crucial sense of identity and individuality in the process, and have created a culture predicated on future success rather than authenticity of the present.
Where I’ve especially noticed this pandering, in my own recent experiences, is in that crucial “Activities Section” in the Common Application. With a new emphasis on admissions officers taking the holistic approach when viewing applications, those ten coveted spots for everything you’ve participated in during high school seem like the last-ditch effort to present yourself as someone the university would want.
For myself, I was thrilled to have so many spots: I was someone who, during high school, took every opportunity to be involved, and did so across multiple disciplines. I never thought about how it would look on my application; rather, I wanted to do something I would enjoy, or to explore something completely out of my comfort zone.
Yet too often, the people standing next to me in these clubs had zero passion for what they were doing. They just wanted to be able to say they did it, and ‘doing it’ usually meant attending a singular meeting and the club photo. I was endlessly annoyed by the lack of genuine interest, willingness to contribute to the group, or even care enough to attend the monthly meeting requirement.
When it came time for me to fill out that “Activities Section” in the Common App, fellow peers somewhat scoffed and belittled my achievements. I heard many times the same line: “Why do you have so many humanities extracurriculars if you want to go into a STEM field?” I didn’t know how to reply other than “because I wanted to,” and it left me not only nervous in my application, but also frustrated with my past self.
After the applications had dissipated and I was accepted into schools, I reflected back on this time and realized I had nothing to be regretful of. It isn’t my fault, or even my worry, that college applications have gotten increasingly inaccessible. My time in high school was extremely busy, but extremely rewarding, because I was doing things that I loved. I found community in these people, whether that be in orchestra, speech and debate, theatre, or philanthropy. I learned countless skills across all of these fields, and most importantly, I just had fun.
Going into college, I have genuine interests, real hobbies, and avenues to not only gain more experience but also to actually impart some of my own knowledge to others. I’ve found that other friends I’ve talked to who participated in that “checklist mentality” throughout high school for the sake of getting into their dream schools are left without a hobby or anything to further pursue.
This mindset of planning everything ahead is not only extremely taxing on a high schooler, but insane; if you’re 14 years old, you aren’t going to accurately nail down every activity related to your future career within the context of your high school. Instead, just choose something enjoyable, something that brings you to the right group of people. Because at the end of the day, that support, guidance, mentorship, and sense of community mean way more than any career-oriented but passionless activity you could have persisted with anyway. All of the best people, and all of the best memories, that I have from high school come from all of my chaotic club choices, but they are the ones that stay with me and have allowed me to not only feel comfortable, but confident within this first month of college. So go out into the vast world that is BC extracurriculars and clubs, and find something authentic to you; it’s okay to pick up a casual hobby for the sole purpose of having some fun.
Castalia Litos
Neuroscience major addicted to coffee, mystery novels, and hockey.
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