I’m it. I’m “that girl.”
After seventeen years of cold and otherwise unfriendly activity (don’t ask what I did to my parents upon seeing them for the first time), working in the Admissions Office has turned me into a sunny, smiling, door-opening, direction-giving girl who is willing to help any family find their way to nearest dining hall before their 1:30 interview.
It’s frightening.
This practice is perpetuated by no other reason than the life of a professional Tour Guide (capitals necessary), or, as one grandiloquent caller put it, “Admissions Ambassador”. Jazmine Hughes is my name, walking backwards is my game. Please silence your cellphone, be sure to use the facilities before exiting the Admissions Office, and prepare yourself for my speech on the wonders of co-ed bathrooms. Mind the skunks.
Tour guiding is hugely gratifying; there is no doubt about it. Being a family’s initial idea of what Connecticut College is like is both terrifying (we don’t all talk as quickly as I do) and powerful (…although I have the power to make people believe that), and there is no better feeling than knowing that you somehow influenced a prospective student to come to Connecticut College with your beloved albeit recycled jokes, winning smile, and heaps of knowledge.
There is nothing worse, however, than knowing that they came, or were highly attracted, to Conn for reasons that weren’t necessarily true.
All tour guides are well trained on how to give proper tours, and the Admission office works tirelessly to keep us updated on any changes to the infrastructure of a Connecticut College education, be it in the academic, athletic, residential or extracurricular realm. We are also told when we do things wrong. Often. This causes me, and several other students, to think: are tours truly representative of Conn?
Tour guides are, essentially, backwards-walkin’, fast-talkin’, path-blockin’ salesmen, without the creepy mustaches. We are coached extensively on what to say, where to go, how to answer touchy questions; yet, almost equally, we are told what NOT to say, where to NEVER go, the questions to which our sudden amnesia should kick in.
Clearly, this careful planning is all a result of Admissions efforts to make the school look as appealing as possible. By avoiding Lazrus, Warnshuis, the reputation of “the dirty South/Connecticut College Annex”, the bros, the black people table and the dangerous relationship between alcohol and the class of 2012, however, are we protecting or misleading prospective students and their families?
It is nearly impossible to delineate the boundary between being polite and being real, yet there is no one to blame for such a difficult distinction. It may seem wrong to leave a wealth of unappealing, yet true, information out of a tour or a discussion to parents.
At the end of the day, however, we are a college, an imperfect institution, ready to remedy our flaws, but remaining logical. We can’t fix everything overnight.
Photo by Tanaha Simon
