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…

with the precise attention born from having once been misread by almost everyone who claimed to love me. When students or parents ask now—sometimes politely, sometimes with real panic—whether the unconventional path is too risky, I never romanticize it. Risk is real. Poverty is real. Doubt is real. The tiny Brooklyn apartment and the ramen noodles continue reading …