College Essay Myths
These days, a lot of students walk through my door having absorbed lots of “unofficial” college essay rules.
“I know I’m not supposed to write about sports.”
“I heard that they like essays with weird metaphors.”
“I heard that they love essays about trauma.”
“I know I can’t write about my parents’ divorce.”
It’s a minefield of misinformation. Some from the internet, some anecdotal, and all of it utterly unhelpful to students embarking on their college essays. My students are always clamoring to know what “they” want, those pesky admissions officers who will be passing judgment on them and deciding their futures. If we could only divine exactly the kind of story they’re looking for, we’d be set!
But we don’t know. And frankly, we don’t need to know. Because if students approach this process with the intent of being unapologetically authentic, leaning into the undeniable value within their character and identity, they will tell a powerful, revealing, insightful story about who they are. And that is guaranteed to be a story that will gain traction with the stranger who will ultimately read it.
I’m constantly debunking the college essay myths and misinformation that my students encounter, and here are two that seem to crop up with alarming regularity.
Trauma is not a prerequisite – somewhere along the way, students received the message that they needed to have endured something terrible to have something worthy to write about in their college essay. I can still remember the student who sat across from me, her eyes baleful, her entire being radiating anxiety.
“I’m screwed,” she said ruefully.
“Wait, why??”
“Because nothing bad has ever happened to me. I have nothing to write about.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. I assured this student that she didn’t need a sob story. First off, a story doesn’t make for a great college essay just because it’s tragic. They aren’t going to admit you because they feel bad for you.
Sad stories certainly aren’t off-limits. You just have to make sure that they do more than just communicate the details of a tragedy. I have worked with students who have written powerful, emotional stories about loss and struggle, and every single one elevated their material beyond just sharing a sad story.
The second big misconception I see from my students is the impulse to find a “hero” story. They’re searching for that mountain-top moment of achievement, the kind that might be recognized by a handsome plaque or trophy, or, at the very least, resulted in your name being read out over the morning announcements. Students on the quest for the traditional hero moment often come up empty-handed and wrongly conclude that their story, whatever it is, simply isn’t worth telling.
Don’t be a hero – just be yourself. I know, I know. This guidance reminds me of those “uplifting” posters that I used to see in my old high school next to the water fountain: “You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take!” “Character is who you are when no one’s looking.” And even though this guidance might sound trite, it’s undoubtedly true (just like those lame posters).
There are certainly heroes out there, and I work with lots of students who are stand-outs. The kid who became Student Body President, the one who got the lead in the play, the one responsible for the game-winning touchdown. These are amazing achievements, and I salute these students! These kinds of moments and wins are often the perfect source of content for a great college essay. But I also work with lots of students who haven’t “succeeded” in the traditional sense, whose strengths and gifts haven’t translated into easily-bullet-pointed moments. I find that lots of kids – and honestly, most kids – end up doubting their value and their ability to have something to say.
But trust me. I’ve worked with thousands of students over the years, and every single one of them had a story to tell. A story that mattered. A story that revealed their value. A story worth telling. And you have one, too.