When I Dropped Out At 20, My Sister Told Everyone: “She’s The One Who Didn’t Finish.” Twelve Years Later, I’m Yale’s Dean Of Admissions. One Essay Read: “My Family Moved Past My Aunt’s Setback.” The Name? Amanda Chen. My Niece. I Picked Up My Red Pen And…

column and laughed softly at the strange circularity of it all. Twelve years earlier I had been the young woman making a call no one wanted to dignify. Now I was the voice on the other end, asked to bless ambiguity. “I can’t make the decision for you,” I told her. “And you should distrust anyone who tells you there is one correct life template for continue reading …