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…

twice, spent one year technically homeless, and still managed a 3.4 GPA alongside exceptional recommendations and an essay so lucid it made me sit up in my chair. The easy bureaucratic response would have been to dismiss the application as statistically weak. Too erratic. Too unconventional. Not enough evidence of the smooth upward line elite institutions continue reading …