By Izzy Becker ‘24, Editor-in-Chief

The College Office displays colorful college flag decorations. (Photo by Izzy Becker)

Whether it’s watching a TikTok by your favorite influencer who claims to know the secret to getting into college, reading an article containing “the real” top universities of America, or admiring the slew of flags that line the Newark Academy College Office’s ceiling, we’ve all engaged in some way or another with the college admissions process. At times it truly feels inescapable; but ironically, the voices that tend to fall through the cracks are those of actual seniors — the people who have stuck it out through what seems like hundreds of essays and whose smiling faces and intended majors will soon comprise the posts of the famous decision Instagram account. Now on the other side of this inexplicably confusing process, I, one of those seniors, have some useful takeaways.  

With just three more months of my senior year, the majority of this process is behind me. Just simply writing that sentence makes me realize how focused I’ve been on the future. In discussing and strategizing my next four years, I’ve in some ways abandoned this one, simply going through the motions of school and of life. I watch myself measuring the year through stages of the process, mentally mapping out the number of weeks until I have to send out my next application, receive my next decision, or eventually commit to a school. And while my organizational skills have improved, I’ve felt disconnected from this year by constantly thinking about future ones. It’s the small moments of the present, though, that are most important: impulsively making a gingerbread house in the senior corridor, holding Kemps tournaments in the College Office, and running outside during the first snow of the winter. 

Another thing I’ve noticed is our incessant need for absolutes. I constantly hear murmurs and calculated judgments about where my classmates have chosen to go to college. We’re all in some ways guilty of it. We search vehemently for these objectives — “the best school,” “the best major,” “the best application.” In reality, there isn’t an answer. The supposedly impartial college lists that we idolize are plagued with biases. Even our beloved U.S. News is guilty of selling spots to universities on their iconic ranking list. We measure our success based on how many T-20s (universities considered to be some of the top 20 in the country) our class has achieved if such a concept even exists. Taking a page from Frank Bruni’s book, the college admissions process is based as much on luck as it is on merit, and it’s what we do with our college rather than the college itself that matters most. 

It makes sense that we’ve developed this somewhat dependence on fixedness. Between studying for standardized tests, reviewing IB rubrics, and scrolling through Naviance data, it’s so easy to be consumed by these many numerical expectations. Our eyes have been trained to skip immediately to the small bolded letter, rather than the personal midterm comment right below it. But I already forgot about last month’s math test flub or the freshman year bio test I swore would define me. The skills and discipline I’ve gained from this process will last longer than will any figure. I’ve learned the importance of brevity when forced to write 100-character activity descriptions, and have pushed myself to abandon the impulse to revise and rework each supplemental essay endlessly.  

While I’m dishing out advice, I’m no master of the college admissions process. It’s undeniably confusing and the lines between what is acceptable to talk about and what isn’t are becoming increasingly blurred. Why is it that we can have hundreds of prestigious flags cover the walls of the College Office, but not an opt-in Instagram account that celebrates students getting into those same schools? It’s all a double-edged sword. While NA’s many college preparatory resources and engaged counselors are reassuring, the constant discussions and expectations about college can be overwhelming. But what this process has taught me is that we need to lean on each other for support. I’m proud to be a part of a grade that comforts during the disappointments as much as we celebrate the wins. As senior and Feature Editor Lily Sternlieb wrote in her previous article, our trauma bonds are thicker than any admissions letter.