Metaphors Matter
December 19, 2019
Vocabulary comes with baggage. Words often have multiple meanings, and different words can have definitions that overlap. In Form V English, Mr. Ingrisani tasks the boys with examining the subtle difference between synonyms such as “smart” vs. “intelligent” or “art” vs. “craft.”
I choose “reject” vs. “deny.” The word “reject,” as either a verb (with the emphasis on the second syllable) or a noun (with the accent on the first) has no place in the college admissions process. “Reject” suggests deficiency or inadequacy. If I apply for a car loan and would clearly be unable to make the payments, then I am “rejected” because of my lack of qualifications. In the manufacturing process, an item that is flawed is “rejected.” If it is a turbofan blade for a commercial jet engine, hopefully, it is discarded. If it is a bath towel, it is labeled “imperfect” and sold at an outlet store.
This is not what happens in the college admissions process.
“In most applicant pools, roughly three-quarters of the candidates are “qualified” to attend the institution. Harvard, for example, could admit at least a half a dozen classes from one applicant pool and those classes would be indistinguishable from one another.”
On the other hand, if I show up at an Apple Store on an iPhone release date and there’s no room inside, I’m “denied admission” because there’s no space. That’s not a reflection on my character or my value as a human being.
In most applicant pools, roughly three-quarters of the candidates are “qualified” to attend the institution. Harvard, for example, typically receives well over 40,000 applications for 1,650 slots and admits approximately 2,000 (1,000 men and 1,000 women.) Harvard could admit at least a half a dozen classes from that one applicant pool and those classes would be indistinguishable from one another. So most of the fully qualified candidates will be “denied admission because there’s no space,” and not because they are flawed.
Some people liken it to a lottery. However, kids are quick to point out that it’s clearly not. If it were a lottery, all you would have to do is tick a box to enter. College applications, on the other hand, require pages of information, lists of activities, multiple essays, and standardized test scores. The application encourages students to believe that the process is a pure meritocracy, where only the strongest applicants are admitted, even while they clutch onto the hope that a “holistic” read will reward some special characteristic of theirs. Students want it both ways, but they buy into the “lottery” image when they file a large number of applications. Buying more tickets increases your odds in a lottery, but not necessarily in college admissions.
The metaphor I prefer is a roulette wheel. If you have a good GPA, you get a space on the wheel. You have a great one and you get a second. Your scores are good, you get a space; terrific, you get two. You play squash really well, you get a space. You play the oboe really well, you get a space, but only if they need an oboist this year. If you will enhance the college’s diversity or if there’s a building named after your grandfather, you get a space. Here, in the end, unlike the lottery, different kids have different numbers of spaces covered. But even the most highly qualified and appealing candidate has ten or twelve spaces while there are nearly forty slots on the wheel. So any way you approach it, there is always an element of chance.
Several years ago, I had a student deferred early decision from his father’s alma mater. The father was puzzled; he said: “The admissions office told us that the admit rate for legacies in the early pool was 50%.” His interpretation was that an increase from 10% to 50% meant that admission was a sure thing. He just could not wrap his head around the simple statistical fact the boy’s chances of not getting in were also 50%.
When a student is not admitted, he often asks: “where was my weakness?” or “what could I have done better?” They presume some inadequacy on their part when there was likely none. Our kids feel judgment in the process because they are being judged. But there’s also pure dumb luck. They can control their application, but they can’t control the roulette ball.
“Jargon” refers to words that have specific meanings within a certain field of study or endeavor. In physics, the word “acceleration” has a very specific definition, but its common association with only “speeding up” can make it extraordinarily difficult for students to recognize that “slowing down” and “turning” are also accelerations.
We get stuck, gripping the baggage, unable to put it down and approach a word from a fresh angle. So sometimes we simply need to pick a better word! College Admissions needs to reject “reject.” It is loaded with noxious and inappropriate connotations, and we need to purge it in order to protect the mental health and well-being of our children. Banks and manufacturers can keep it.