Four years later, we checked in with the Class of 2021 to hear how their college experiences have unfolded, what they’ve learned along the way, and where their journeys are taking them next. We heard back from six alumni and unsurprisingly, each of their paths has been as unique as they are.  

Their fields of study span Neuroscience, Education, Computer Science, Psychology, Naval Architecture and Marine Engineering, Physics, Mathematics, and Philosophy. Half pursued double majors. Many shared their favorite classes within their areas of study, such as Black Pedagogies in the Americas; Sleep, Learning, & Memory; Marine Engineering; Quantum Field Theory 2; and Abstract Algebra. One alumnus described their “most fun class period ever” in an interdisciplinary course on historical pandemics, where “we hotly debated whether the severity of the 1918 Spanish Flu should be attributed more to biological or historical factors.” Others highlighted general education that stretched their thinking, including an extensive humanities colloquium and an exploratory art history course.  

While at their universities, these scholars also took advantage of remarkable opportunities. One managed a stage production of The Winter’s Tale in collaboration with a university in South Korea. Another completed a concurrent master’s degree alongside their bachelor’s degree. One Scholar served aboard the U.S. Coast Guard Cutter POLAR STAR, the nation’s only heavy ice breaker, and earned the Coast Guard Auxiliary Medal of Operational Merit (the highest award available) for his work successfully incorporating and writing standard operating procedures for integrating ice information into the ship’s information systems. Another completed their degree in just 2.5 years and received an MIT Outstanding UROP (Undergraduate Research) Award, a Hertz Fellowship, the Knight-Hennessy Scholarship, and the NSF GRFP. 

Today, members of the Class of 2021 are continuing their journeys in diverse ways, as a life science teacher in a Massachusetts public school, a software engineer, an officer in the U.S. Navy, a Computer Science Ph.D. student researching AI at Stanford, and one taking a gap year to focus on academic, creative, and spiritual pursuits, including completing a Russian language program.  

Each alumnus shared that the CDB Scholars Program was foundational to their college and career paths. As one reflected:  

“Thinking back to my experiences in college and high school, if I trace back many of my major decisions as a student, I inevitably return to CDB and how the program’s mentors gave me the impetus to spread my wings and approach my academic exploration boldly. I am so grateful and proud to be a CDB scholar and alumna, and to be connected to the community today.” 

Our wise alumni also offered advice for current CDB Scholars: 

• “Genuine excitement is not worth hiding—find people who appreciate that you love the world and want to understand it.” 
• “Embrace every opportunity to learn and to be open to new academic and extracurricular experiences.” 
• “If you know what field you want to go into, that’s great! However, if you don’t, that’s normal! It’s totally okay to switch your major, career goals, interests, etc. even if it’s a complete 180. College is also a time of exploration, so take those classes you are curious about and even those you think you might not like.” 
• “The job market right now is really bad for recent college graduates, especially with the onset of AI replacing many jobs. It is critical right now to have a plan in action before starting college in order to secure a job before you graduate college.” 
• “Don’t be afraid to push yourself and take courses without prerequisites.” 
• “Don’t let schooling interfere with your education.” 

Thank you to the CDB Class of 2021 Alumni Dante Holmes, Esther An, Owen Dugan, and others for sharing your stories and your continued support of IEA’s CDB Scholarship Program. We look forward to hearing more about your journeys as you continue to thrive.  

Giftedness does not just go away when you turn 18, but most resources for gifted individuals do. This was a painful realization as I entered my adult life after graduating from college. Everyone has the “after college you’ll enter the real world” talk at some point in their lives, but I did not realize how true that statement is, especially being a neurodivergent individual. All the intensities and overexcitabilities are still with me. I have been fortunate to grow up with my giftedness supported, from being homeschooled, where I could learn at my own pace, to starting college at 15 through a program built for neurodivergents. Even without such an obvious sign that I am “different” from my peers, I am sure I’d have experienced similar feelings of “otherness” had I not taken an accelerated path. After graduation last year I intended to take a gap year to allow time to acclimate to the “real world” before entering law school, and thank goodness I did. This past year has eased the transition from being in an environment tailored to cultivate a gifted mind to one full of neurotypicals. Though I have not had trouble fitting into the culture of my workplace or forming a routine without the structure of school, there was a noticeable learning curve when entering the “real world”.

It is at this point in life when clear rules transition into the broader social contract we all participate in. Being neurodivergent, it is inherently difficult to make this transition. Many have made this transition without ever knowing it, a feeling of “otherness” hanging over them. I however am doing so with a painful sense of understanding. Other students will be at least two years older than I and will have had more time to learn the ground rules of the real world. Is bringing a gift for the host of a small social gathering acceptable in your early 20s or is that more early 30s social etiquette? I certainly can’t purchase a bottle of wine. The structural systems in place, such as higher education or the workplace, don’t exactly have “gifted” or “honors” sections. How am I supposed to find others like me if we are no longer branded? What will it be like living on my own? How do I navigate having an asymmetric personality in a society that has minimal idea what that means in practice?

I have no answers as to how to facilitate this transition; I’m just now at the beginning of the journey. My goal is to share my experience so that those who are starting this transition have some inkling of what’s coming and that those who have already gone through their transition know they are not alone. Throughout my life I have met many adults, professors, even my own family, who are no doubt gifted, but had to experience life without knowing why they felt this “otherness.” They forged their own path through society with minimal support, attempting to conform while still living with this unidentified “otherness.”

My motivation to start this series of articles is not just due to my current experience, but by that of two mentors in my life, both of whom found their giftedness by relating to my neurodivergent teenage woes. Two brilliant people who might have forever felt they were alone in their experience. Giftedness is something that will be with me, with us, until the day we die. Don’t let the lack of obvious resources equate to a lack of deserving support, love, and acceptance.

We asked IEA’s Summer Programs Intern Kaitlyn Chen to write a reflection on her journey with IEA. Check out her post below on how IEA influenced important decisions about her future career opportunities!

My name is Kaitlyn, and I’m currently a sophomore pursuing a major in Psychology with a minor in Film at California State University, Long Beach. In 2017, I participated in the EXPLORE program, externing at Apsara Media for Intercultural Education. Before coming into IEA, I had a set goal of wanting to become a film editor. For 6 years, I’ve been self-teaching myself how to edit. I’ve volunteered at multiple film festivals and nonprofit organizations in hopes of getting my foot in the door of the industry. However, the majority of the time, I was learning and editing on my own. When I started my junior year of high school, I decided that I wanted a mentor, someone who would guide me through the steps towards becoming a filmmaker, or more specifically, a film editor. I first learned of IEA and their EXPLORE program through my college and career counselor (Ms. Sisson) as I was nearing the end of my junior year. There, I met Niña, who would become my program coordinator and later my supervisor this summer. I also met my EXPLORE mentor, Dr. Amy Catlin-Jairazbhoy, who would later become an influential person in my editing career.

How IEA Helped me to Grow

IEA definitely challenged me socially by helping me step out of my comfort zone and opening myself up to new people, ideas, and experiences. The excursions that I visited during my year (2017) and this year (2019) in EXPLORE helped me to grow closer with the other externs and become familiar with the networking process. All it takes is a brief chat with someone, and there you go! You just formed a connection, and the next step is getting in contact with them. Through IEA, I’ve learned that I shouldn’t be afraid of people, but of the missed opportunities in life. As the saying goes, “You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.” IEA helped me see what it meant to be a gifted individual. It didn’t mean being born a prodigy or being the top 1% of the class (although those could be the cases). There are other individuals whose gifts might not be as obvious, yet they are the ones working their hardest to reach for their dreams.

IEA also challenged me academically by helping me apply my academic knowledge to the real world. Going into the EXPLORE program, I didn’t think I would need any prior knowledge, aside from video editing. However, I was wrong. Before I started on my editing project, Professor Amy gave me some books to read and some documentary films to watch. I understood that in order to carry out a project, I needed to know the background information behind it, or more specifically, the historical significance. That’s when I had to reach into my memory to recall some of the previous information I had learned at school. I never imagined history to be so alive and relevant in today’s world until I began applying my historical knowledge into everything I did during my externship. Moreover, IEA taught me the technical side of the counseling field during these eight weeks I served as an intern. I learned how to format documents, file papers and keep records of the budget. I found these simple tasks to be very useful in my life, and I use them in all the things I do, whether that is formatting my assignments or recording my money spending.

Lights, Camera, Action!

The moment I stepped foot in Professor Amy’s house, I just knew my filmmaking experience would take a whole different turn. You wouldn’t believe how many cultural artifacts I saw in her house, especially her living room alone. It’s like walking into a museum of its own with paintings, musical instruments, books, and so much more. How cool would it be if all filmmakers had studios like this! My filmmaking experience was more fast-paced and contemporary. However, Professor Amy showed me another route I could take that was more slow-paced yet culturally informative. For three weeks, I worked with her in learning about various South / Southeast Asian cultures and getting a chance to edit one of her documentary films. I’ve learned so much about the documentary filmmaking process –– not only the time it took to make a film, but also the time it took to learn all the information about the people and culture being documented. Professor Amy’s patience, guidance, and wisdom made my first hands-on experience in the EXPLORE program such a memorable one. I felt my work as an editor was even more valuable, knowing that it contributed to a global effort of connecting individuals to each other through cultural awareness. I never felt more valued as an editor when Professor Amy reached out to me after the program, asking me if I can help her edit again. It was that small favor that really ignited my passion for film. If someone believed in my ability, I should believe in it as well. I don’t think my connection with Professor Amy would’ve been possible without IEA’s help because they were the ones who initiated the EXPLORE program. It is because of programs like these that allow students (like myself) to continually expand our networks and connect with individuals who are like-minded and passionately driven.

A Step Towards School Counseling

I always knew I had a soft spot for kids. I love being around them. They’re such a joy to work with because they exude so much energy and optimism. I had the chance to experience these ___ more fully this summer at IEA, engaging with students from all different backgrounds and grade levels. When I was at Academy and watching over the kids on their breaks, some of them would come up to me and excitedly ask me to play with them, whether that was tag or a board game. I felt like a kid at times, remembering when I used to run around with my friends or become super competitive in Monopoly. There were, however, times when I had to step in and calmly advise the kids not to run out onto the streets or to take turns in the game. On the other hand, when I was interacting with the high school students in the EXPLORE program, I felt, in a sense, more connected to them because I was in their shoes not too long ago. Whenever they voiced their victories, I celebrated with them. Whenever they voiced their defeats, I gave them some advice that others had given me when I was facing similar challenges. These moments of connecting and advice-giving allowed me to develop a sense of purpose and fulfillment that will transcend into my possible counseling career.

Being surrounded by kids/teenagers and interacting with them brought out my inner passion for helping others physically and psychologically. Because of my soft-spoken, compassionate, and observant nature, I believe school counseling might be a great field for me –– one that I can be myself and become the person I want to be. I realized that my purpose in life was to help those in need because the world so desperately needs that at the moment. I feel like my past experiences in counseling elementary and high school students at various nonprofit organizations, especially at IEA, have ultimately led me to where I’m at. It didn’t matter how many people I was helping because I’m satisfied knowing that helping one person can change his or her world. It’s strange how I entered IEA wanting to pursue one field (film) and coming out wanting to pursue another field (psychology). It just goes to show that life and the choices you make in life are constantly changing. Therefore, you’re always learning how to adapt to these changes.

I have had the opportunity to work with gifted students for the past 11 years in a variety of roles from their classroom teacher, to their mentor or advisor.  They have taught me more than they will ever realize. Maybe you have had the opportunity to work with gifted students as well and have had some of the same experiences I have. This letter is a simple thank you to them from me.

An Open letter to the students I have worked with

To my students past, present and future……..

I am a better person because of you. The lessons you teach me each day are more than I could ever teach you. Your wit, selflessness, determination and charisma are characteristics that I wish I could bring to the table as you do so effortlessly. Here are the biggest lessons you have taught me.

How to Laugh:

Not just a small laugh that passes by in a second. I am talking about the gut hurting can’t stop if you tried laughter. Whether you are making a joke about an academic topic, a movie, a book or something else pop culture related to your humor is like none other. You laugh along with your peers even if you are the only ones that think the joke is funny. You don’t care what others think because YOU think it’s funny. I wish everyone knew how to laugh like this because it makes life fun. Thank you for teaching me how to laugh like no one is looking at me.

Determination:

Your determination is like none I have ever seen. You see something you want to accomplish, and you make a well thought out plan on how you will get there. Even when everyone around you says you shouldn’t. Your ability to challenge yourself at every opportunity is something more people should do. What is most special is that even if you don’t accomplish what you set out to do you are determined to grow and learn from it even it. Never lose that desire to go to the next level. If it wasn’t for people like you the world would never have new discoveries. You have taught me to try harder and do something I never thought I would.

Kindness

Your ability to extend kindness to everyone in the world is a trait that more people should have. Whether you are helping a friend with homework, sitting at lunch with someone who is alone or asking me how I am doing. You are genuine and authentic, and people know you truly mean what you are saying or doing. Never lose that.

So thank you. Thank you for being 100% authentic you. Thank you for letting me see your brilliant minds and lives.

Like this post? Sign up for our email newsletter to receive more stories, information, and resources about gifted youth straight to your inbox.

Razel Solow, Ph.D. and Celeste Rhodes, Ph.D. turn the chief criticism of early college entrance–that early entrance inhibits healthy social development–on its head in College at 13: Young, Gifted and Purposeful (Great Potential Press, 2012). Their book is centered on a longitudinal study of fourteen women who entered Mary Baldwin College’s Program for the Exceptionally Gifted (PEG) between the ages of 13 to 16. Dr. Rhodes, who had been the Assistant, Associate and Executive Director of PEG, began the study supported by a grant from the Malone Family Foundation. When poor health precluded her from continuing her work, Dr. Rhodes invited Dr. Solow to finish the project. Dr. Solow is the former director of the Center for Gifted Studies and Education at Hunter College.

Rhodes’s and Solow’s case study materials stretch from birth into well-formed adult lives. Pseudonymously presented, the PEG graduates share their stories in detail. The reasons they entered PEG offer important insights into the life of a gifted girl in middle school. Many scholarly publications on the development of gifted children precede College at 13, but Rhodes and Solow stay away from normed studies. Instead, they stay with their subjects’ voices and let these fourteen women describe the world of giftedness. The women share stories of being isolated, confused, humiliated, and slapped. The authors spare nothing.

Grounded in this detail, Solow and Rhodes make the case that socialization and social development ought not be confused. Socialization, the art of joining a group, can be an impossibility if the group is fundamentally hostile. The middle school years, when students turn away from their families and toward their peers, present a painful choice: give up your passions, conform, and be included; or not. Beyond fellow students, the girls’ teachers are a mixed bag, some supportive and some clearly destructive. The consequences of socialization denied include social development inhibited. Echoing her fellow PEGs, Julia says, “Not caring about what everyone thinks is one thing, but feeling okay about being different is something else.”

Supportive parents are the heroes of the book, and Solow and Rhodes get to the parents’ stories straightaway. It takes a special kind of mother and father to move a thirteen-year-old daughter onto a college campus. Words describing home life with these parents include “peace,” “trust,” and “seriousness.” Over and over the parents talk about how they want their daughters to pursue their dreams and interests. Comparing these students to a study of 81 class valedictorians in Illinois, Solow and Rhodes observe that there are important differences between parents who want their children to succeed and parents who want their children to grow. Identifying those parents and the support they have given, and likely will give, is crucial in making radical acceleration work.

And what happens twenty years or so later? These students have remarkably unremarkable lives. To be sure, most of them continue as students (eight Master of Arts, Master of Science, Master of Fine Arts degree holders, and one in progress; one lawyer; one Ph.D. and one in progress; one M.D. in progress). But they don’t speak of isolation and feeling different, even when they are different. One young woman entered law school at eighteen and surprised her classmates when everyone went to a bar and she couldn’t order a drink. She was confident, they were respectful, and the evening rolled on. Other alumnae describe the nuts and bolts of everyday life: putting a bed in an office because of fibromyalgia; struggling to come out to a father; juggling her desire to build a woodworking business and her promise to finish her parents’ kitchen remodeling. These details are small, sometimes humorous, and very reassuring. Being denied normalcy in their mid-teens, these women are having typical, mostly stable and happy, ordinary adult lives.

Two clear advantages of radical acceleration for women emerge. First, they have more time to complete their educations and build careers before they start families. For a number of women, there is a new dimension to balancing career and family development. The challenge for some women, especially working in professions which require lengthy educations and apprenticeships, is finding the point at which to divide a career between working long hours and working with flexibility once professional credentials are in place. Radical acceleration adds years to early career building. Second, being younger at graduation means the women have “extra time as a bonus, not as a launching pad for another round of running ahead.” It struck me that these bonus years can be transferred years. Skipping over high school moves years that can be destructive and esteem-busting into post-college years better lived because the whole self is more formed. Social development is a lifelong affair.

College at 13’s shortcoming is that these are successful entrants and graduates of radical acceleration. Rhodes’s and Solow’s fourteen PEG alumnae are among twenty handpicked by Mary Baldwin’s administration. Did everyone’s story go so well? What about the students who dropped out of PEG, or struggled with their youthfulness after graduation? And are all successes Mary Baldwin graduations? Several years ago I worked with a young woman who attended PEG for one year, “because I needed a break from high school.” Feeling better about herself, she was ready to return to high school.

Solow and Rhodes do us all a favor by shining light on a subject that can arouse passions without understanding. We talk often about supporting the whole gifted child. What exactly does radical acceleration offer the whole gifted adult? Not every gifted child is a good candidate for radical acceleration. Not every gifted child is a good candidate for high school. College at 13 contributes to understanding the differences.

Kate Duey is a private college counselor serving gifted students. She has worked with students who are age-mates with their graduating high school class, home schooled students, community college students, and students seeking accelerated or early college entrance. Kate is a graduate of Harvard College and Harvard Business School. She has a Certificate in College Counseling from UCLA. She also has three incredible daughters.

Kate will be speaking about college selection and admissions for gifted students at IEA’s next parent meeting on March 30th. Register for this free event here (the event has since ended).

Like this post? Sign up for our email newsletter to receive more stories, information, and resources about gifted youth straight to your inbox.

Min-Ling is a Program Coordinator at IEA and works most closely with our high school Apprenticeship Program, through which she meets and interacts with many gifted high school students. Before coming to IEA, she was a high school mathematics teacher.

Going off to college is probably one of my best and most anxious memories. At that point in time, it seemed that all of my prior education was in preparation for this milestone. As a first-generation college student, the plethora of tasks to complete for college applications was overwhelming. I recall that my mom, who completed 6th grade in China before immediately beginning to work, advised me that I had completed all the hard work and all that was left was to communicate my story to people whose actions and opinions we had no control over. My dad, who graduated with a Master’s Degree from Hong Kong Polytechnic University, simply gave me a stern look, smile and nod of encouragement when the subject of college was spoken of. Needless to note, “vini, vidi, vici” (I came, I saw, I conquered), and tada!

That was 10 years ago, and I was curious about how students in our IEA community view higher education now. I have the privilege of working with highly gifted and mature youngsters, and with their help I compiled some of their thoughts, expectations, anxieties, and aspirations about higher education. By sharing this data, I hope to provide information and comfort, tell their stories and compel higher education and the world to prepare for this creative, curious and free-natured group of young adults. I asked students ages 13 through 18 amongst our community of Caroline D. Bradley Scholars, Apprentices and Yunasa Emerging Leaders and Counselors in Training about their outlook on higher education. The data from the 40 respondents is featured below. Thank you to all those who contributed!

Expectations

When asked, “In what ways do you hope learning as a young adult will be different from high school?”, 80% of students used the words “free,” “freedom” and “autonomy”:

• “I hope that there will be more freedom involved. I like to believe that I am a very independent and intellectually bold thinker, and I know that I apply myself better to long-term projects than busy work. So, I hope that there will be less busy work and more projects/papers to engage with.”
• 82% of students responded similarly to this student, yearning for greater depth and relation to solving problems that affect the world: “I hope that as a young adult I will be able to learn more about the things that matter to me. In high school we often talk about topics that do not interest me, or we talk about topics too shallowly. I hope to be able to learn with greater understanding and purpose.”
• Students also expressed a need to learn based on their pace: “I hope to have more freedom to choose what I learn and to be able to make my own choices regarding the course material and pace as opposed to having to follow strict guidelines.”

When asked, “In what ways do you hope learning as a young adult will be similar to high school?”, all students expressed wanting diverse, passionate and inspiring teachers and peers, with responses like:

• “Hopefully it will be just as easy to befriend the people around me, and the classes and my peers will be able to challenge me academically and personally.”
• “I have been fortunate to be around many top teachers and students and hope to continue enjoying the chance to work with similarly talented people.”

Getting There: Anxieties

Many students expressed that the daunting task of completing applications for college will be the toughest part of the application and selection process. Students also commented that their difficulty in choosing a major leads to difficulty in choosing a college. The prospect of maintaining a high GPA is always on their minds as well.

Students are also concerned about a variety of factors that go beyond the application process, including:

• Not being accepted into top choice schools (50%)
• Taking on a significant amount of debt to pay for a degree (45%)
• Not receiving enough financial aid to attend a top choice school (37%)
• Choosing a college that turns out to be a bad fit (37%), with several respondents emphasizing outside pressures and expectations placed on them

After attending a public high school, I was surprised by my college tuition and the cost of maintaining a life away from home. The concerns above and the chart of responses below indicate that our students seem to have a good sense of how much college truly costs.

College: Where, What and How?

Students strive to achieve, at a minimum, the degree programs below.

The majors students were most interested in pursuing were primarily in science, technology, engineering, and math (STEM) fields, though many students (41%) were interested in majors in both STEM and humanities fields.

When asked about their “dream” colleges – assuming acceptance and cost were not factors – many students listed 3-5 colleges. This chart demonstrates which schools were mentioned most frequently:

One student responded with a particularly insightful answer: “My ‘dream college’ would be where I could personalize everything to my interests, from classes to social life, to dorm. I’d also like to make a smooth, worriless transition into a stable job after college, so having connections/internships as part of programs would definitely be a plus.”

Respondents also told me the states in which they would like to live as young adults, which can have an influence on their college choice. California, Massachusetts, and New York were favorites.

Our highly gifted middle school and high school students are revving up for learning more beyond their current settings. They are aware of their challenges and practical in their approach, but is the world offering what these students need?

As I interact with these students, I can see their potential to be leaders and innovators, but as always they need the support and learning opportunities to hone their knowledge and skills. At IEA, we hope that we are helping these students pursue their dreams and accomplish their aspirations and that we are helping educators understand what these students need to do so as well.

Like this post? Sign up for our email newsletter to receive more gifted resources and information right in your inbox!

Bonnie is the Caroline D. Bradley Scholarship Program Coordinator at IEA. She has extensive experience working with gifted students and supporting them through the high school and college application process.

As the program coordinator for the Caroline D. Bradley Scholarship, I have been fortunate to get to know, work with and be guided by the experiences and expertise of independent school, college and university admissions deans and directors throughout the United States. This blog is a composite of what I have learned from dialoguing with them.

Last April, a few weeks after sending the acceptance and rejection letters to college applicants, a dean of admissions at one of America’s most selective universities told me the following story:

“Two days after we announced our incoming freshman class, I received a reply from an applicant’s father. It was curt and written on his corporate letterhead: ‘You rejected my son, he’s devastated. See you in court.’ The very next day, I received another letter, but this time from the man’s son. It read: ‘Thank you for not admitting me. This is the best day of my life.’”

All threats aside, receiving a letter like this never warms the hearts of anyone in admissions. It is the consensus of admissions professionals from preschool through college that more and more, today’s parents are getting too involved in their child’s school admissions process – and not merely at the college level. High school and middle school admissions staff have expressed horror stories about parental actions and involvement so completely out of hand that it seems impossible and implausible for otherwise rational people to behave in such off-putting ways. And this behavior never serves the applicant in obtaining the desired positive outcome.

The increasingly bad “parent etiquette” that admissions officers are seeing right now comes from a confluence of several characteristics of our boomer generation: our sense of entitlement, our suspicion of authority and our bad habit of sometimes living too vicariously through our children. It all adds up to some pretty ugly parental behavior often played out in front of our children. A college admissions dean told me, “Today, parents call the admissions office more than the student applicants, often faxing us daily updates on their children’s lives or asking us to return an application already in process so the parent can double-check his/her child’s spelling.” A high school admissions counselor noted a parent who asked whether they should use their official letterhead when writing a letter of recommendation for their own child. It’s not unusual to know parents who openly write their kids’ essays and even attempt to attend their interviews. They make excuses for less than stellar grades or tout athletic promise as “Olympic team potential.”

With many high school and college applicants averaging 6+ extracurricular activities, parents have assumed a new role in their children’s lives: parent-as-manager. Most kids are so busy now that they rely on their parents to attend to the many details associated with being a student, including applying to the next level of their education. Parents need to realize that their many efforts to be helpful are often misinterpreted by admissions officers and can actually be detrimental. When parents visit a high school or college campus and ask all of the questions on the tour, in the information session or at an open house, they may think that they are modeling positive, assertive behavior for their child. Instead, admissions officers may see a passive kid who is too lazy, bored or uninterested in the school to think of any pertinent questions. Ultimately, when parents dominate in any way through the admissions process, in attracting attention to themselves, they are detracting from the perception that their child is mature enough to handle this process on his or her own, whether it’s at the high school or college level. Parent over-involvement can also rob a child of a chance to develop resilience and self-confidence, two key components for a happy, fulfilling life that should begin to be developed in adolescence.

Students should be directed to do all of their own work on their applications, including calling for application materials, setting up interviews and asking questions on campus/school tours—yes, even at the high school level. It is a cop-out for parents to assume these roles with the argument that their son or daughter is “too busy.” Initiative is crucial for young adults because it is the act of trying their wings and acquiring a sense of personal accomplishment as the primary navigators of their high school or college paths.

Here are some “etiquette” tips for parents during the high school and college application process:

1. Ensure decision-making about applying to any prospective school is a two-way street, made by you and your child together. Ultimately, it’s your child who will be attending the school. Listen to your child’s pros and cons about a school and have a frank discussion, adding your thoughts after you’ve heard your child’s overview.
2. Don’t micromanage the whole process for your child or nag him or her about deadlines and tasks to do. If you absolutely can’t leave this area to your child, perhaps create a calendar in easy view or with easy access for your son or daughter listing due dates, etc. You can also put important deadlines into your child’s smartphone calendar or create a Google Calendar and set reminders that will come through to your child but not to you—there’s a big difference in the dissemination of this information.
3. Set a good example by being courteous and polite when you communicate with admissions officers. Thank them if they spend time answering your questions or meet you in person. Greet them with their proper titles. Encourage your child to research the schools before visiting and ask questions that show that he or she has put thought into them reflective of a particular school.
4. Let your child be himself/herself. Don’t try to overly “package” your child into something that you think admissions officers want to see. Schools value individuality and a student pool with a diverse range of experiences, passions, learning styles and accomplishments.
5. Don’t add your voice to your child’s essays or personal statements. You can review the essays by offering suggestions and offer to proofread for grammar and spelling, but do not try to control the content. Your voice is not your child’s voice, and more often than not, it will come off as wooden and lack the nuance and passion that counts more in the overall picture of who your child is than the more sophisticated vocabulary or syntax you are trying to add.
6. Self-advocating is an important part of life. Allow your child to be his or her spokesperson on all school tours and interviews.
7. Never make this an overly competitive process by comparing your child to friends or siblings. Provide your 100% support and encouragement. Your role as parent and primary adult figure is to help guide your child through the ups and downs, the stresses, successes and setbacks of the application process from first thinking about schools to ultimately enrolling. During this time—in between ongoing school, test prep, extracurricular activities, school visits and compiling the many parts of an application—do your best to help your child maintain a healthy lifestyle and stay focused on all that’s positive in the here and now—not only what lies ahead.
8. If a letter from a high school or college—or a highly competitive program such as the Caroline D. Bradley Scholarship—brings sad news, the appropriate response for frustrated parents is to realize that the decision is not a reflection on their parenting, nor is it a value judgment on the worth of their child. Most often, rejections are due to too many excellent applicants and too few available spaces. It’s that basic. The support and encouragement of parents are especially important when their child isn’t accepted to the school or program that they’ve set their heart on…and feel they deserve. Helping your child focus instead on other options and moving forward in a positive direction is the best way to model good adult behavior for the next generation of adults.

Like this post? Sign up for our email newsletter to receive more resources and information for parents and teachers of gifted students right in your inbox!

Lisa is the mother of 3 gifted children and lives outside of San Francisco.

Be sure to check out the first part of Lisa’s college road trip journey!

We were 5 minutes into the student-led tour and I knew the school wasn’t the right place for my son. Our guide led us down the hallway of a beautiful colonial building. The walls were lined with cork board and sheets of brightly colored paper framing announcements and pictures of professors and administrators. “No, no, no,” I thought. “He’s going to hate this.”

I was trying to think like a 16 year old boy, or at least, my 16 year old boy. I had promised myself that I would allow him to set his own criteria when evaluating colleges. I admired how he navigated class selection, extracurricular activities and the work/life balance in his high school. I would not substitute my values for his now that he was looking for a college. So I tried to see the college through my son’s eyes.

It turns out that I was right—he hated the school. While the environment looked warm and nurturing to me, he felt smothered by the level of support suggested by the cheerfully decorated hallway and confirmed by our tour guide. We made a hasty exit at the tour’s end, skipping the information session and catching an earlier train to New York City. On the way out, my son said that he was really glad we made the trip. “I didn’t know if I would recognize a bad fit if I saw one. Now I know. I can trust my instincts.”

Thus began my son’s search for a methodology to assess the colleges we were visiting. What follows are his indicators of college excellence:

1. Personal Freedom

My son is on a quest for autonomy. He wants support at college to be available and encouraged, but not conspicuous. He disapproves of schools with multiple student committees tasked to help freshmen with everything from writing to public speaking skills. If he wants help, he will ask his professor. Jesuit priests in your dorm? Minus 5 points. A campus policy that encourages students to ask professors to lunch and gives them the funds to do it? Plus 10 points.

2. Course Selection

My son asked one question at every tour: “Where can I get the course catalog?” Sure, you can get the same information online, but the sheer size of the book tells you something about the school. Once he got a hold of the catalog, he dog-eared pages and put stars next to interesting classes. Nothing says “I want to go here” more than a beat up course catalog.

Reviewing each school’s course catalog is necessary to counteract the “Quiddich Effect.” My son coined the phrase after hearing that his older brother fell in love with any school that offered Quiddich as an extracurricular activity. Later, he learned that EVERY school fields a Quiddich team (one school now offers PE credit). By reviewing the catalogs, my son found that classes that appear exotic at first glance become less extraordinary when they appear in multiple catalogs.

3. Campus Personality

Why would anyone want to go to a humorless college? Quirky behavior on campus indicates that the student body is creative, doesn’t take itself too seriously and has free time. Top marks went to the school with a pirate a cappella group named ARRR!!! This singing ensemble has a repertoire of sea chanteys and has been known to hijack other a cappella performances.

4. Weather

My oldest son is in college in Chicago. His professor came to class one cold January day with a very red eye. She said that an icy gust of wind burst a blood vessel in her eye—a gust of wind! I find this indicator perfectly appropriate. Flip flops in January will cause a college to rocket up in the rankings.

5. Diversity

My son took one picture during our trip. It was of two groups of students separated by about 20 feet. On one side was a banner with the words “Stop Israeli Apartheid” printed on it. Next to it was the Palestinian flag. On the other side was a banner with the words “Be Part of the Solution” printed on it with the Israeli flag next to it. Students passed back and forth between the two sides, standing in clusters around the speakers. My son was transfixed. He confessed that wants to debate social policy with a Log Cabin Republican and Middle East diplomacy with someone who lives there.

Here’s what isn’t on the list: a prestigious name, famous alumni, notable professors or expensive facilities. I tried to highlight these positive qualities at various times during the trip. At one point, I screamed “Look! David Brooks teaches a class called ‘Humility!’” He looked at me blankly.

We left the East Coast without finding a replacement for the number one position, currently held by a Southern California school. He said that he found number 2, 3 and 4, all interchangeable and clustered substantially below his first love.

I know that he isn’t done looking at colleges, and some of the colleges he’s seen may climb and fall in the rankings as he changes the weight of each indicator. The whole point of the trip was to gauge his interest in particular types of schools. In the end, he showed a preference for schools located in cities or large towns with around 5000 undergraduates in the school or nearby. Now that he has created a methodology to evaluate colleges, he can quickly get down to business adding and deleting colleges from his list.

Oh, and there was one more benefit that came from this trip: he found the graduate school he wants to attend.

That’s the funny thing about dreams. One almost always leads to the next.

Like this post? Please share!

Lisa is the mother of 3 gifted children and lives outside of San Francisco.

It’s the only fun part of the college application process: the college trip. It’s the chance for your child to dream before the harsh realities of test scores, class rank and GPAs hit. Best of all, parents are active participants. We get to be accomplices to the dream worlds our children are imagining.

Three years ago, I eagerly anticipated bonding with my oldest son on our whirlwind tour of 6 colleges in the east and one in the Midwest. I memorialized the trip with pictures of him scraping the snow off the windshield of our rented car, waking up with bed head and sampling cannoli in Boston. He was not amused. The defining moment of our trip happened during dinner midway into the week.

“I haven’t seen anyone in so long,” he said.

I not only wasn’t bonding with him, I wasn’t even someone.

I returned from the trip with a more realistic understanding of my place in his world. I could be the travel agent, chauffeur and advisor, but I did not have a place in his dreams. The trip was his opportunity to imagine a life without me. He had already gotten a head start imagining that world.

I tried to apply the lessons I learned from my oldest son to my middle son’s college trip. We would see one school a day (with the exception of a quick trip to New York City) and travel solely by public transportation. The pace and mode of transportation would reduce my stress and allow each of us to immerse ourselves in the experience of looking for a college – separately. For my son, that meant plugging himself into the sounds of Ingrid Michelson and Idina Menzel. For me, it was flipping the pages of The Gatekeepers: Inside the Admissions Process of a Premier College.

My son let me set the itinerary. We could only visit 6 or 7 schools, so I made the decision to tour schools of varying size located in suburban, urban and big city locations. This would allow me to gauge his interest in particular types of schools. One of the things they had in common is that they all had strong programs in his areas of interest: International Relations, Politics, Philosophy, Economics, Public Policy and Government. The other thing they had in common is that they are all spectacularly hard to get into. That last part wasn’t one of my criteria; it just turned out that way. Or, more accurately, I didn’t make an effort to balance safety, target and reach schools.

I was breaking the first rule of the college application process: manage your child’s expectations.

I wasn’t trying to communicate an unreasonably high level of expectations to my son, although it could certainly be seen that way. I was curious. Some group of researchers decided that these were the best schools in the country and lots of students appeared to agree with this conclusion. How else do you get such low acceptance rates? Besides, isn’t this an area where a gifted kid can dream big? After my husband and I had spent years finding outlets for his passions, was this really the time to tell our son that the admission odds are set against him and he should be more realistic? Without visiting these schools, they would just be names, spoken with reverence by his friends and their parents. He would not know if the fuss was justified until he experienced these mythical institutions, however superficially.

Luckily, the idea of attending an Ivy League college had already lost some of its luster by the time we left for the East Coast. My son had fallen in love two weeks earlier. The object of his affection is a liberal arts college in Southern California. The town, the campus, the classes and the flip flop wearing student body spoke to him. He now had the gold standard against which all other schools would be compared.

If my son felt pressured by my itinerary, he didn’t complain. In fact, he said that he would have been disappointed had I not taken him to these highly selective schools. He was not ready to inventory his shortcomings. He still wanted the chance to dream. So, bring it on Harvard. Let’s see if the tingly excitement brought on by an Ivy League name can compare to the warmth generated by the Southern California sun.

See Part II: A 16 Year Old’s Guide to Colleges

Like this post? Please share!

Lisa is the mother of 3 gifted children and lives outside of San Francisco.

My middle son is a junior in high school. It’s time for him to start thinking about college. To help the process along, his school invited a speaker from Colleges that Change Lives to speak to the parents and students. She reminded the parents that the search should be student-centered. To make her point she told stories about over-involved parents who push their children aside during college fairs in order to speak to the admissions officers and those who get their pronouns confused when talking about the application process, as in, “We are still in the process of writing our essays.”

I have never pushed my children, and I am very conscious of which pronoun I use. That said, I was very involved in my oldest son’s college search, and I plan to do the same for my middle son. My experience has given me sympathy for the parents she ridiculed. It’s a fine line between over-involved helicopter parent and helpful consultant. But whichever side of the line you fall, there will be consequences for your child and a corresponding label of their own.

My involvement in my children’s educational decisions is not unlike that of many parents of gifted kids. For the past 10 years, I’ve been helping my children get the resources they need to challenge themselves and feed their passions. In the past, that meant online courses, tutors, extracurricular activities and schools. Two years ago, it meant helping my oldest son find a college. It wasn’t until he began his college search that I understood how my involvement has influenced the way he thinks about his own education.

“I want a school with a good visual arts program, but I don’t want it to focus solely on the object.”

He wanted to paint, draw or sculpt at a school that didn’t focus on the painting, drawing or sculpture. If you are confused, so was I. Even he didn’t know exactly what he was looking for. But that didn’t prevent me from searching for this elusive school. I (yes, I am aware of the pronoun I am using) looked through course catalogues for visual art classes with unique titles, eschewing schools that only offered the vanilla “Painting 101” or “Drawing Techniques.” I looked at their capital expenditures on the arts and made charts detailing their core requirements. We visited colleges on the East Coast and in Southern California where I asked more questions than my son during the campus tours. The accordion files I created for potential colleges bulged.

My search led him to the University of Chicago. He was intrigued by the classes titled “Visual Language: On Time and Space” and “Performing Tableware.” He enrolled last year. When my husband and I delivered him to the campus, we knew that the school would provide a rich academic experience for him. But he wasn’t done personalizing his education.

At the beginning of his second year, he decided that the majors available at University of Chicago were limiting. So instead of settling for a major that mostly provided what he wanted, he decided to invent his own. He is going to declare a major in Interdisciplinary Studies. This do-it-yourself major allows him to combine studies in the humanities. He is going to craft a major in the fields of anthropology, visual arts, creative writing and psychology. The tentative title of his major is “Storytelling.”

Just as there are contrasting labels that can be applied to me, you may be tempted to apply one to my son. On the positive side, you could say that he is self-actualizing. On the negative: he feels entitled. While I will argue the former, I will admit that the latter also applies. My interference in his educational experiences led him to believe that he can expect a personalized education plan that feeds his passions, wherever that may take him. This may mean that he will enter a work force that does not value his efforts and that he will spend his twenties living in our basement. On the other hand, he may have developed skills that allow him to pursue a career his father and I have never imagined. After all, there are people making a living creating Google Doodles. Who knew that was a career 10 years ago?

I believe that my intentions are good and that my behavior furthers my children’s goals. My middle son is going to test that belief. An extraordinary math talent, he doesn’t want to pursue math in college. He wants the educational equivalent of Sid Meyer’s Civilization game series—a program that combines politics, economics, history and philosophy. I am going to do my best not to slip in a math component, but I can’t guarantee my behavior at this point.

I know that I am both over-involved and helpful. I am certain that my children are seen as both entitled and on the path to self-actualization. Which label you apply to my children and to me depends on your perspective. I suppose the only judgment that really matters is my children’s. If later in life they are leading happy and fulfilling lives, then you can call us whatever you’d like.

Have you struggled with the fine line between helpful and over-involved? Please share your experience in the comment section below.

Like this post? Please share!