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…

At the door he paused. “For what it’s worth,” he said, “that essay? Whoever she wrote it about—she meant every word.” After he left, I sat alone in my office until the building had gone nearly quiet around me. I tried to return to the next application and found I could not focus. Amanda’s sentences kept threading through my head. I want to be like continue reading …