As the classic saying goes, there are no stupid questions. There are, however, stupid answers. Elizabeth Dankoski’s article “Why a Perfect SAT Score Can Keep You Out of Harvard” is one of those answers. Though the article attempts to debunk formulaic notions of admission to elite colleges, its contradictory premise and biased author serve the opposite purpose.
Dankoski insists that college admission is about passion, not formulaic overachieving--while simultaneously prescribing her own formula for admission. “The [college admissions] formula,” states Dankoski, “probably looks something like this: get perfect grades and test scores… sign up for a million extracurriculars, make sure you’re the leader or captain of at least three of them” (Huffington Post). Dankoski, like most of us, sees a definite problem with the expectation of overachieving in the admissions process: it prevents students from pursuing what they’re actually interested in. If her article were about pursuing student passions to live a more fulfilling life, it would be a job well done.
However, “Why a Perfect SAT Score Can Keep You Out of Harvard” is not that article. Instead of advocating for student passions simply because they are passions, Dankoski tells students to pursue their interests as a tool for success--defined as an Ivy League admission. “[Elite college admission],” states Dankoski, “comes down to one thing: Finding out what lights you up and then building this passion into something truly substantial” (Huffington Post). This attitude, while certainly an improvement on the traditional “overachiever” take on admissions, still contradicts the basic philosophy of passion: doing things because you don’t have to. Ascribing a purpose to student passion marginalizes the entire purpose of developing one. And considering her audience--people who, as Dankoski says, are students with “dreams of getting into Harvard or Princeton or Stanford” (Huffington Post)--that attitude is particularly dangerous. By attempting to remove the overachiever formula of college admissions, Dankoski places her own formula on the process--one that can be just as harmful. It’s the same philosophy in different words: instead of being the overachiever in everything, Dankoski advocates for being an overachiever in one thing. And that’s a philosophy that perpetuates, not eliminates, the detriments of the college admissions process.
Considering the author, though, this message isn’t particularly surprising. Elizabeth Dankoski is a prominent college admissions consultant--a fact made clear by a note at the end of the article. Her note at the article’s conclusion implores students to “Learn more about how 100 percent of [Dankoski’s] students are accepted into the nation's top schools here” (Huffington Post), with a hyperlink to her consulting website. This plug for her consulting shows the underlying purpose of her article: not to support students, but to support Dankoski. It’s an advertisement that speaks to business, not altruism--persuading students to work towards their passion for a definite goal, with a definite consultant, using a definite formula. Considering her audience--students who have resorted to online articles as their college admissions resource--it’s an entrepreneurial decision to make. Entrepreneurial, yes, but not helpful to those students.
Despite this motive, Dankoski’s sentiments are understandable. Her attempts to reinstate passion in admissions represent the anxiety of everyone involved in the college process: anxiety of the admissions officers attempting to restore student happiness, anxiety of the teachers wishing to maintain genuinely interested students, anxiety of the students wanting to maintain their passions while also maintaining success. In some ways, Dankoski is attempting to save, not perpetuate, the students trapped in this system. But there’s more to be done.
Instead of advocating for passion as a tool for college admissions, change will result from advocating for passion. Not purpose. Not ulterior motives. Change occurs through encouraging students to find interests and pursue them for themselves. Students, as the system exists now, have been taught to develop a future-based perspective in their academic and social lives.
The amount of work dedicated to building that future, which often lasts for a student’s entire high-school career, prompts the question: what is this future students are working towards? Based on the admissions-first perspective of many students, it’s not a happy one. The future these students are working towards is a “successful” one--a fate defined by prestige, rigor, and high-profile jobs. The college admissions system has created a dangerous, result-based perspective that leaves students sacrificing present happiness for future success. And that isn’t something that can be solved with one article.
Though Dankoski’s article--and, likely, her work as a college consultant--seeks to solve this issue, it isn't helping. Even if Dankoski is advocating for a more individual approach to elite college admissions, she is still advocating for the borderline obsessive approach to elite college admissions. And despite her passion for, well, passion, equating college admission with prosperity doesn’t prompt students to work for their interests: it prompts them to work for success. Success in an elite college. Success in an elite job. Success in the most material, superficial, dispassionate manner possible.
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