The National Association for College Admission Counseling (NACAC) is my professional organization and the annual conference has always been the event I’ve always looked forward to. It’s a time to reconnect with friends, attend sessions on various topics/trends, and maybe even do some light networking. But this year felt different. Way different. It was the first post-COVID conference with naturally a lower turnout, but it was also my first as an independent consultant. I was dreading “the purple lanyard” that is typically assigned to consultants, and was also the original title of this post. It turned out there was a different color-coding system this year. But it didn’t matter. I was feeling a loss of narrative. 

I had originally intended on summarizing the various sessions I attended, but there was a running theme that struck me throughout the conference—the role of storytelling. In a session on “demystifying admissions,” the debate on how transparent colleges should be led to the idea that admissions offices have to tell their story the way they want to tell it, despite the convoluted process. During a session on essay writing, the speaker kept emphasizing “asking why” when constructing a story. Even in a session about test optional policies, one key takeaway was for students to determine “to what extent test scores contribute to their story.” 

The sessions themselves were a source of comfort, not necessarily because I was learning so many new things, but because I was always in a room with others in the field. No matter where we came from or what role we played, there was at least a shared understanding/excitement/concern about our world. But there was one session in particular that was especially applicable to my work. The session description opened this post and even though my intention was to learn about how to share my professional voice, I think many of the ideas can also apply to college applicants. 

Students, it turns out we have a lot in common. 

You will not be writing about college admission the way I will on this site, but in both cases, it is all about the content. What needs to be said? What is missing? We also both have to be concise. Clearly, that is a work in progress for me, but you don’t have a choice. You have limited space to convey to a time-constrained reader your perspective and who you are. As you work on your Common App essays, think about what is already on your application. Everything there is meant to impress. Your grades and test scores (if applicable) are meant to impress. Your activities, awards, recommendation letters, are meant to impress. When you share your voice, you are providing your perspective and worldview, your characteristics over accomplishments, and perhaps even an awareness of your limitations. If your writing is impressive, that is great, but when you share your voice, it is more important that you provide insight into what matters to you. If there is one difference between our voices, it’s this: I try to present information that I care about, but I have to think more about what my audience cares about. You, on the other hand, cannot try to guess what your audience wants to read. Don’t ask them what they are looking for. Tell these people who know nothing about you beyond the “impressive” stuff what they really need to know.

I am a college consultant who still has the characteristics and mentality of a high school counselor. In that sense, maybe I haven’t lost my narrative after all. I will continue to write about what should matter to all of us involved with the admissions process. Students, you might be feeling a little lost or on the outside looking in, which is natural given that you are applying to college, essentially trying to gain entry into a community. Just remember that every community is composed of stories. Tell yours.