My 7th grade class is full of "good" kids. In fact, you might even call them the "best" kids-- if you believed in ranking children. These are the kids that did all their math worksheets without being asked. The kids that were reading with a flashlight by kindergarten. The kids whose immigrant parents told them every day that if they came home with less than an A, they were going to hear about it, and so was everyone on the block. The slipper was going to come out. The Best Education Money can Buy Can't Also Buy you Autonomy These kids have already gotten far. By the 6th grade, they were accepted into TEAK Fellowship, which until 2019 accepted only 30 kids out of hundreds of applicants, to prime them for the best education money could buy. But in their case, the education would be free. It was an attempt to level the playing field, and put them in the circles where they belonged by their own merit. But what to do when-- because of your age, stage and developing personhood-- your whole body is telling you you need to strike out on your own, take risks, be autonomous? And yet, here you are, in a Fellowship, in Family Systems, that expect a lot from you? What's rebelling against authority worth? In their blood and bones, my kids understand what it is to rebel against authority. They may have read a lot about it, but most have never done it. That doesn't mean they don't know what it would taste like. Fizzzzzzzzzz and fire. They might know-- ancestrally, or because of the circles of oppression which they and their families navigate- what it means to have a colonizer breathing down your neck, making you pay at every turn for...for what? They might know what it means to not be represented in a governing body. To have people speak for you who know nothing about you, and can't handle your hair. To see that the dominant system does not have your best interests at heart, nor is able to pronounce (or remember) your last name. Gomez or Gonzalez? Continue Reading …
Integrity
Develop Your College Essay like Spreading Peanut Butter
Americans eat something like a billion pounds of peanut butter per year--and most students feel, at their most eye-roll-y moments, like they write about a billion college essays (all those supplements!). If you want to develop a good essay, however, we could learn a thing or two from our popular staple peanut butter. The Peanut Butter /Writing Process My older stepson, K, is a bit obsessed with pb&j. Turns out it's also the #1 choice of pre-game meals for the NBA (though they could afford caviar!), and most non-allergic elementary school kids (who scoff at caviar!). As soon as K walks in the kitchen, the possibility of pb hijacks his decision-making process. He pulls out the bread, the oversized jars of pb and local honey, and gets to work. His heart throbs. The thing is, it's torture watching him make it. Because he takes so very long, spreading that peanut butter. He runs the flat edge of the butter knife over and over the bread until there are zero lumps. The pb is exactly smooth. And 10 minutes have passed, maybe more. He devours it in three bites. Develop, delete; create, destroy; produce, consume; repeat. Why this makes me want to lose my mind is a good question-- it's not my time or my sandwich. Your college essay is not mine either. And I don't lose my mind over it, nor should you (except in the healthy way that sometimes we need to lose ourselves to find ourselves). However, I think we could consider K's approach to peanut butter spreading as one of the perfect metaphors for a common problem-- the essay that a writer did not develop evenly sometimes misses the mark. So what do you need to consider to develop a strong essay? Not a flimsy, disappointing sandwich? How to develop your college essay (quick & dirty): don't over-expend on the intro include enough backstory vivify with scenesmake some meaninghave realistic aspirationsconnections should be freshin conclusion, DON'T SAY IN CONCLUSION!--but give me a gift! Put it Continue Reading …
Family Illness as Essay Topic
There is a myth that if you haven't faced adverse experiences like family illness, you can't write a great college essay. That's BS. You can write a great (college) essay on literally anything (and I rarely use the word "literally"). But at its center, the essay is about you. Everything else is a window to you. There is another equally problematic myth that if you've faced a family illness, that's automatically great topic for your essay. It might be. It might not be. I'm going to lay out some basic considerations if you're thinking about writing about someone else's illness, loss or tragedy that impacted you. Even if that's not your situation, read these pointers to learn a little about good writing. Resources for Illness and Loss First: some of the best sources I know to help cope with loss or grief are the teachings of Roshi Joan Halifax, Stephen and Ondra Levine, Frank Ostaseki, Sobonfu Somé. Also check out Terrible, Thanks for Asking, by Nora McInerny. Is Illness or loss part of your story? Are you even ready to go there? Some of my students have experienced intense familial illness and loss---at such a young ago. When I sit and listen to teenagers tell me about how this impacted their family unit, I grip my chair and breathe with them, encouraging us to keep our hearts not slammed shut around pain. I'm so impressed by how much they handled, and, often, how they handled intense emotional upheaval without totally checking out. I do not, however, suggest they write their essays on this. My own mother lost her mother when she was 13, and no one talked with her about what was happening. Or--gasp-- the fact that she might have feelings about it. She had to deal with those herself and for years, even to this day. I get how this stuff changes everything, forever. I also get how the processing is rarely instantaneous. Here's what to ask yourself if you think you want to write about illness or loss: What qualities of Continue Reading …
Parents, Don’t Lose it Over the Essay
Last year I was a contributor at TeenLife Mag and got to offer some advice on one of my favorite subjects: relationships. In particular, how parents and kids can avoid losing it over the college essay. I'm a parent and step-parent now, and I really get how tricky it can be. We all need reminders that our relationship with our kid is faaaaar more important than anything we might want for them to accomplish. It doesn't always feel that way-- when our kids don't want our input. It doesn't always feel that way-- when our kids act annoyed that we parents seem so focused on a deadline. It doesn't always feel that way-- when we parents worry about the future. It doesn't always feel that way-- when we parents think our kid might be too focused, too stressed, and we want them to take a breather. An Interactive Talk For Parents (Let's Not Lose our Shiz!) If you're local to Brooklyn, you can come to an interactive talk at Bee Tutored-- register here. If you're not local, we can book a phone session. This might be the most important thing I have to offer, and that you have to offer: love, love, love. It looks different in every family system, just like every family looks different. I'll offer tools to help your inner world when the outer world is just a tad nutty. Please come be part of the conversation! We can take back the college essay! Continue Reading …
Let’s Not be Hypocrites about Learning Process vs Outcome
Decision Day marks the end point of the college application process, when high school seniors let colleges know where they are heading. It's not uncomplicated, though. This moment is the outcome and fruit of so much striving, and an event on which we've pinned a heck of a lot of hope. "Miss, I just want to hide in a corner," one student told me. And he was happy, proud, about where he was admitted. A flurry of articles are published around now about how to help seniors get anything out of the remainder of the school year. One NYT's article focused on where we lose sight of the learning process along the way and how to help seniors reinvest in themselves. Or maybe reinvent themselves, and how they think about themselves. Yes, We Could ALL Value Process More In theory, I totally agree. One of the major issues we face in education is that the learning process is not necessarily valued for itself, but only for where it might lead. That's capitalism right there, friends. But beyond that, from pre-K applications all the way to college applications, we're always telling our students to keep their eyes on the horizon- what's NEXT? Where -or what--will this get you? But how about: where am I right now? What's of value right now? What if there is more than the future that we're totally missing out on? Take, for example, my students. My middle school students at The TEAK Fellowship are some of the brightest in their public school classes. They have joined a fellowship that invests in them as future leaders, armed with the "best education money can buy." (And their financial aid packages subsidize the cost). But there is a(nother) cost: these students have, for themselves and their families, been trained to think far into the future. Everything they do is for something that comes later, hopefully. But what if you get hit by a bus? The value of "later" evaporates. Do we understand what "rewarding" really feels like? So why is it so Continue Reading …
Stubbing your toe, and getting past The Obvious
I broke my pinky toe this week. What I stubbed it on should have been obvious. I mean, a plastic tub of legos, taking up half the hallway? That my three year-old left there, during his righteous fit? What's more obvious? That's why I don't have a good story to tell you, which is annoying. Pay Attention--starting with the obvious! But my attention was elsewhere. It was past 9PM, and I was on my own righteous mission: to get my older kids to clean up after themselves in the kitchen while the baby meowed from the bedroom. (The three year old harumph-ed along beside me to chide his big brothers.) The minute I felt my toe make contact, I knew I had broken it. Your brain gains a momentary crater where it used to sense a comfortably in-tact body part. In my intero-ception, the damage was obvious. WHAT HAPPENED?, the three year old alarmist said, when he heard my expletives reserved for those choice toe moments. I BROKE MY TOE ON YOUR LEGOS! I half-yelled, because the obvious works better in ALL CAPS. The thing is, when you stub or break your toe, it's almost always on something that's right in front of your face, and could have been avoided. It's not like the walls switch around their location to mess with you and bait your appendages (except in Alice in Wonderland. Or when you're chronically exhausted). Look at the story you're telling yourself... From the site of injury, I started building a story-- sound familiar? "Tomorrow is going to suck...so is the next day...Why did I not put that away?" I also thought: dang, this would be a lot more acceptable if I had a good story to tell. Then I realized, a good story can start with the obvious, it just can't stop there. Moving beyond what's obvious What if I looked more closely at why we don't do what we know we should? Or examined the structure of the foot, the function of toes? What if I wrote about the evolution of emotion, studied my three-year old? The fits he has over things the Continue Reading …