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…

to Brooklyn and lose two commuting hours. There were mornings I stood in the shower—still in a small apartment, though at least now the shower was no longer in the kitchen—and tried to calculate whether I could get away with skipping one meeting, one workshop, one reading assignment, one thing. But I never skipped the essential work. That mattered continue reading …