Dorothy, I don’t think we are in Kansas anymore. “Well, that’s unfortunate,” says one local college counselor, “because Kansas is a really, really good school. You should apply to Kansas.”
“You should apply to Tulane too,” added the local counselor.
Thankfully, the wicked witch of the CCRC has one yellow brick road for you to follow—and it all leads to the same Emerald City.
“Have I mentioned Miami of Ohio?”
We are such stuff as dreams are made on, that is, until we step into that haunted room and get are dreams crushed beneath the fists of fake kindness. Sitting with your parents, soon to lose all hope in you, that seemingly nice lady opens up her baby eating mouth. “Yeah, Illinois is probably a reach for you, with your 3.8, 33, and seven extra-curriculars. You might want to consider Arizona. Its got lovely weather.”
College counselors are here to help: help you have an unhealthily high level of confidence by applying to a whole bunch of schools you are over qualified for. Who needs a reach school when a college counselor can reach out her devilish arms and slap you right in the face?
Nonetheless, there are those select students with the ruby slippers. Yes, you beautiful, beautiful students with a weighted 5.7 and 35+. I am melting just thinking of you. I’ll actually help you look for brainy scholarships, actively assist in the cowardly application process, and talk heart to heart with schools on your behalf. I’ll save a bunch of time by not caring about the other 95% of the grade. I’ll even save you money by switching to Geico.
“It is too bad I work at a public school,” concludes a typical college counselor, “I am just forced to deal with those wretched average students. Clearly, all I want to do is work with those ivy-league types—the only kids with a real future. Hey, and a little private help on the side to earn me some extra dough is pretty legit.”
