Casey Quackenbush: Ego Editor, C '17
Why did you sign up? Partially curiosity, partially wanting to have my ego stroked.
What were you expecting? A massive manila folder on me complete with a background check and questionable photos of me on Facebook.
What did you read? Anything juicy? Hardly. A lot of comments just summarized my essays and responses. One comment was redacted, which annoyed me. One comment described my curriculum as “fine.” This made me laugh. I was a high honors student for four years at a great school. And this just validated the notion that nothing is ever good enough when it comes to the college process.
Overall feelings and take away? I was dissatisfied. Something felt missing. Then I realized it was the time that I wasted there.
Rosa Escandon: Lowbrow Editor, C '15
What did you read? Anything juicy? There are a lot of points and jargon I couldn't possibly understand. I was classified as “u–admin.” Which is unsure admission. I kind of had a crisis in that moment. They weren’t sure if they wanted me, but I'm here. The weirdest part—and this is mostly the fault of the application itself—is that you need to put a mother and father. My parents are lesbians, but the question is very gendered. I know who my father is, but there is not box for sperm donor and far less opportunity to write “I am part of a modern family.” So I had to check “father unknown," which personally felt weird and harsh and just wrong. I know who he is. He is great. But there was no box for that. When I read what they wrote, they said, having a single mother is a “concern.” For the record, I don’t have a single mother. But if I did, it's not 1955 and this really isn’t a concern.
Overall feelings and take away? You're not going to have a revelation, but if you don’t go in with that mindset, it can be funny and interesting. Be ready to have some admissions workers hate you.
Mark Paraskevas: Marketing Director, C '17
What did you read? Anything juicy? The only info they wrote that I understood was that I was an “unclear admit,” which I think means they thought I was qualified but was still borderline in the applicant pool. It was scary to read that since things could’ve definitely gone the other way, and who knows where I’d be now. The other cool thing was getting to read my essays again. I wrote about my little brother, who has autism. He’s 7 now, and he was 5 when I applied. It was interesting reading my 16–year–old perspective on that and comparing it with where he’s at in his development—and where I’m at in mine—now. The comments said that my essay was “wonderful,” so maybe that’s what got me in.
Overall feelings and take away? I’m glad I did it. It was also really nice to put myself back in the shoes of high school senior Mark and remember what I was like then, and compare it to what I’m like now. I don’t think I talk about myself in the same way as I did. I’m not sure if that’s a product of being a Penn student for two years or if that’s just part of growing up.
Byrne Fahey: Design Editor, C '17
What were you expecting? I was definitely hoping to see a little more juicy criticism than I actually saw.
What actually happened? When I left, the lady tried to convince me to host someone for Quaker Days.
What did you read? Anything juicy? There were a total of four written comments about my application. Four! And three of them were just summarizing what I had written about and what I did in high school. The best summarizing line was "use of baked goods to motivate others." The last comment, the only one that actually evaluated me, said I was a competitive student, but didn't stand out enough in the broader pool of applicants. There was one line in one of the comments that had been covered with a black box. That was the juiciest part for me. What were they hiding?!
Overall feelings and take away? If anything, it was just a solid reminder of how arbitrary college applications are. Either most of the real judgement happens in committee meetings, or they really just randomly pick. It was cool to see what they said about me, but I wasn't worried about whether or not I was supposed to be here, and I'm still not.
