We all loved the hundred college tours we went on; there was something exciting about the hyper-optimistic guides, the throng of other students with bright eyes and tired legs, and that one mom, or in my case, dad, who asked a list of questions ranging from the amount of closet space to the types of trees planted outside the student center. The information given was sometimes helpful, often already known and sometimes completely irrelevant. Nevertheless, we had to go on them, find a school that was right for us, apply and hope those official-looking letters in the mail weren’t rejection letters.
Of course those tours were useful in the decision process, but could they have been better? I remember hearing some absurd facts about the school at one unnamed college. A later review showed how wrong the tour guide was. It seems like these “guides” are just sales associates trying to get their weekly sell mark.
On the same topic: how many letters did you receive from every university and their brother and their brother’s brother? I made the terrible mistake of crossing off the “yes send my name to schools” tab when taking the PSAT. From that day on, I received heaps of fan mail from everywhere. I did not even know that Lincoln, Nebraska had an International School of Canoe Carving. As an intrepid kayaker, I burned it immediately. Regardless, I had stacks of paper, and am still receiving letters, which are thrown out every day or burned to heat the home. While it is important to learn about colleges, it is also important to not bury our planet under colored brochures showing students having “a fun study session” in the library. It shouldn’t be the case that we as students are nothing more than pawns in a giant business.
Or should it? Universities and colleges create a massive industry that employs teachers, maintenance workers, administrators and countless others. Who pays for this (and for your professor’s giant salary)? We do, of course. We are potential buyers in our senior year of high school. Now, as Connecticut College students, we are the customers who have made a very large purchase. A college education is important, do not get me wrong, but the practices that colleges use to recruit us are often vicious and pathetic at the same time. Campaigns, slogans and witty remarks try to convey to a person the sense that this college is the only one right for them. Admission officers could not care less if the college was a match made in heaven for the student; they want high application rates to foster a high competition and a low acceptance rate, all of which will increase the school’s reputation and garner more income.
We do not need to be babied into our college choice. We are not adults but we do have a high school diploma. That alone should allow us to be given actual information about a school, not some pamphlet boasting the 10:1 student ratio in large bright yellow and the high financial aid statistic hidden in the bottom corner in army camouflage. College tours, the starting point of this journey, give us boatloads of information that varies little between institutions. After all, no school is going to shout from the heavens that they have a 75% admission rate or that they have a teacher to student ratio of 100:1.
What is the point I am trying to make? Colleges are generally the same. Connecticut College is just another NESCAC school. The academics are the same, the athletics are the same and the students are the same. This is not necessarily an absolute statement, but it is highly probable that there are going to be many similarities between populations of similarly aged students. The only differences between schools are the campuses themselves. Why go on tours? To see the place. Connecticut College is one of the most beautiful campuses in the country, so we edge past everyone else on this fact alone. Forget everything else that colleges tell you. It’s what you see and hear on your own that is important. All the other pieces of information chucked at you through mail, tours, information sessions or college websites should be considered, but not heavily relied on. Unless you are Harry Potter, you have no reason to snatch the mail with glee when some unknown school sends you a letter telling you that you totally need to come to their school like, right now. •
