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…

a lens—one that sharpened my attention to students whose brilliance came wrapped in doubt, detour, and contradiction. The ones who had been warned against themselves. The ones who knew what it meant to disappoint the wrong audience in order to remain intact.

That understanding changed the way I read every application after Amanda. Not sentimentally.continue reading …