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…

on top. “Read this fresh. No context. Tell me what you think.” He settled into the chair across from me and read in silence while I stood by the window pretending not to watch him. His face moved through the standard admissions sequence: attention to statistics, mild approval, interest at the recommendations, and then something more focused when he continue reading …