Just twenty years ago, 50 percent of all high school graduates attended a four-year college. Today, 67 percent attempt higher education, and the percentage continues to rise. College was once one of several alternatives for young people; now it’s the norm. As most high school students will tell you, “Everybody goes to college.” And most college counselors and admissions officers will add, “but not necessarily to the school of their first choice.”

Competition for admission to selective schools is daunting. Some recent statistics:

• Amherst: 5,352 applications for a freshman class of 434
• Colgate: more than 6,000 applications for about 700 spots
• Duke: 14,500 applicants for a class of 1,600
• Harvard: accepted about 2,000 of their 18,600 applicants
• Princeton: 14,000 applications for a freshman class of 1,100
• Yale: 17,731 applied; 1,918 got in.

Here’s another scary fact: most of the applicants to the top schools are qualified to attend. Those 17,731 students who tried to get into Yale? Almost all of them had excellent grades and test scores and would have made fine additions to the campus. So how do the poor admissions officers in New Haven pick just 1,918?

Further, the trends apparent in selective colleges are appearing in most universities, even large state institutions. The writing is on the wall: admission to all colleges is increasingly competitive and qualified applicants more numerous. What’s a kid to do?

The writing is on the wall . . . Well, maybe not literally, although many students want to pound their heads on a wall when they sit down to write THE ESSAY. Clearly, SAT scores and grades are crucial ingredients for college application success. But if students were judged by numbers only, colleges would have to resort to a lottery, since far more students have the right numbers than can be admitted to a specific school. So the issue for each applicant remains: “How do I distinguish myself from all the other smart kids?” Sometimes the issue is also: “How do I get them to notice me when my grades and scores aren’t in their top range?”

And don’t forget, there’s an issue for the besieged admissions officers, too, namely: “How do I find a few hundred great students from thousands of kids with terrific academic records? How do I make next year’s freshman class the most diverse and talented class this school has ever seen?”

An interview is a great way to let them know who you are, but the impression you make will be filtered through an “interpreter” before it gets to the admissions committee. Plus, many schools no longer give interviews. An essay, however, can be passed around, re-read, savored, discussed. The essay can be uniquely you; it can let the reader know that you are the perfect match for the university.

A Great Opportunity (back to contents)

Designed to give admissions officers a look “behind the numbers” at the “real” applicant, the essay also gives students a terrific opportunity to wow the people who are deciding their college fate. Ironically, the one part of the application that allows students the most freedom of expression also produces the most anxiety. Admissions officers are looking for honest, creative, expressive statements. Essays That Worked, now in its third edition, has been providing encouragement and inspiration to students since 1986. The idea behind this book was that if applicants could see what other successful candidates were writing about—inchworms, baby-sitting, Oreo cookies—they could break through the “fourth wall” and pull the audience right into their lives. And maybe they wouldn’t be so anxious about their own essay.

Some students have found the essays in this book intimidating because they are unique, fascinating, and—in sharp contrast to most application essays, unfortunately—generally a pleasure to read. Admissions officers have expressed concern as well. The dean of admissions at Bates College wrote:

I confess when I looked through your earlier book, I had some misgivings. I find when I give workshops on the writing of college essays (and I probably do ten or twenty a year), young people are easily intimidated by brilliantly written, flashy, or very perceptive writing. Often, far from giving them models and encouraging them, it seems to freeze them up and stall them out. They subconsciously throw up their hands and say, “I can’t write like that,” and more perniciously and subconsciously, “I guess I shouldn’t go to demanding colleges.”

We are looking for students who write coherent, thoughtful, carefully organized, mechanically sound, and hopefully imaginative prose. Sometimes that’s flashy and creative, and sometimes it is not. I hasten to say that I don’t mean this as a complaint or an attack on your previous book. It was well organized and had lots of wonderful writing samples in it. But we try to find some way to say to young people, “Write in your own voice.”

The central metaphor of admissions for me is not the Wizard of 0z but theatrical lighting. That is to say, we hope students will not think they are to hide themselves behind a curtain and bellow into a microphone and saw at some ropes to create an image of themselves as powerful and unique. Rather, we hope to have students think of themselves in the admissions process as being out on center stage front, with all of the different parts of the folder representing a different theatrical light to light up some particular facet of their personality or skills.

So let’s get one thing straight: The essays in this book are not standards that you have to meet in order to get into college. Some of you might have essays in your head far better than anything here. (If so, let us read them! CLICK HERE for information on submitting your essays for the next edition of this book.) These are simply essays that worked, not the only essays that worked.

We hope that you will first read all the essays. There is a wide range here; some are 50 words, some are 5,000. Some have dialogue, some are poems, one is even a cartoon. The question you should ask yourself as you read is not, “Is this a good essay?” but rather, “Do I get to know this writer from this essay?” If you are an admissions officer, you will also ask, “Now that I know this applicant, does he/she match my university?”

Getting into college is not a writing contest; the competition is more subtle than that. More important than how well you write is how well you illustrate who you are and whether a particular college is right for you. Believe it or not, the college admissions officer wants what’s best for you. With the applicant pool increasing yearly both in quantity and quality, most schools have little trouble filling their freshman classes. Your task is to communicate something new and meaningful about yourself to someone who only knows you by your numbers.

Put Yourself in Their Shoes (back to contents)

You are an admissions officer at Harvard, Duke, or Stanford. It’s 2:00am on April 9. Your desk is somewhere beneath a huge stack of papers. Your eyes are tired and red. Mechanically, you open the next application folder, and again you force yourself to read:

I am constantly striving to expose myself to every opportunity to become a person with a deep understanding of my own values and of the environment in which I find myself. I have participated in a broad range of activities, and I have endeavored to become ever more versatile and tolerant while at the same time solidifying my own ideals …

You cannot go on. But you must, because the deadline for notifying applicants is just a few days away. You’re facing yet another long night reading vague, boring, pompous essays. You slowly bow your head and rest it in your hands, wishing for a different job.

Suddenly, a gust of wind blows through an open window, upsetting the pile of applications. As 400 essays flutter around the room, you notice a page with the recipe for cranberry bread.

A recipe? Cranberry bread?!

Curious, you pick up the essay and start to read, and you smile:

4 c. flour
2 c. sugar
3 t. baking powder
1 pkg. cranberries

… Not only is the following an overview of my personality but also a delicious recipe.
First the flour and sugar need to be sifted together into a large bowl. Flour reminds me of the powder snow that falls in the West. I was born and raised in Pennsylvania, where our snow falls more like sugar, granular and icy, and makes us hardy skiers, unlike those spoiled by Western snow. Cold weather is also conducive to reading …

Finally, a student you would want to meet, someone who dares to express herself creatively rather than simply recite the same old litany of high school achievements and adolescent philosophies. Finally, an interesting essay!

As you finish the “recipe” and read through the rest of her application, you start to feel much better. Decent grades, good test scores, solid recommendations—you’ve seen better, but it’s certainly respectable. And then there’s this fantastic essay, evidence of an inventive and independent mind. The essay makes your decision easy. You put her folder into a box marked “Admit,” and you look forward to discussing her with the Admissions Committee tomorrow.

This is an exaggeration, of course, but it makes an important point. Admissions officers are human. They’ll laugh at a good joke; they’ll get excited over a well-written account of a close game; they may even shed a tear if you pull them through a tragedy. They’ll also become bored and irritated as quickly as anyone by essays that are dull and blatantly self-serving.

What These Essays Do (back to contents)

In its own way, each essay in this book is enlightening and entertaining. These essays inform readers without boring them. Don’t be intimidated by these essays. Some are beautifully written, others a little awkward. But each gives a tiny, honest flash into the lives of ordinary students. Each essay tells you something about its author that you wouldn’t learn from reading grade transcripts, lists of extracurricular activities, or letters of recommendation.

To be sure, most of these essays are self-serving. To varying degrees, they describe high school achievements and try to reinforce the rest of the application. But what they really have in common is that each of these students has taken a risk. Each piece reveals the personality and the mind of the writer, and that’s exactly what admissions officers want to see, especially when the work is genuine and honest. One dean of admissions said, “I prefer essays that are clearly written by a seventeen-year-old and reflect their own thoughts, feelings, and opinions. I don’t believe most seventeen-year-olds have done anything too grandiose (yet), so I don’t look for that. Rather, I want to see what they have experienced through their own eyes, and how it has affected the way they look at the world.”

Every college application has plenty of space for you to list your grades and all your accomplishments. The essay is the only section where you have total control, even if the essay question is specific. Your grades, your scores, your activities—they’re history, and there’s nothing you can do about them as you fill in the blanks. The essay, however, offers a precious opportunity for you to express your individuality, so don’t squander the chance by just repeating what the rest of the application already states.

Another warning: Don’t try to be the student you think the reader wants to find. Admissions officers want to know the real you, and they want to find the right match for their school. If you have researched your college choices carefully, that should be a no-brainer. You need not have experienced earth-shattering, mind-altering crises to reveal your true self to an admissions officer. In fact, writing well about a seemingly trivial moment can be the most revealing thing you do. By finding the profound in the mundane, a writer can tell an admissions officer more about his personality than all the teacher recommendations ever could.

Walt Whitman wrote about grass; Emily Dickinson wrote about a bird; William Faulkner, a bear; John Donne, a flea; Lorraine Hansberry wrote about summer; John Updike, a mailbox; and Randall Jarrell about detergent—all risky topics because they are so commonplace, yet each of these writers had a Bigger Meaning in mind. Look out your window, look under your bed, check your gym locker. Be willing to trash false starts and try again—and again, and again. Writing can be illuminating, it can be fun, and it might even get you into the college of your choice.

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