Author: MATT KUNZWEILER
I didn't lie on my résumé when I applied here, but now that I think about it, I probably should have. I'm finding out that many of my contemporaries took grotesque liberties when they wrote theirs, such as presenting mowing lawns as an internship with an urban improvement firm, suffering through a home-cooked dinner as community service with the elderly and doling out an atomic wedgie to a younger sibling as participation with the Big Brothers Big Sisters Program. Luckily, you sign the honor code after you get in.
But what about those honest achievers? Those prodigies who needed to use six-point font just to squeeze their laundry list of legitimate titles, awards, skills, jobs and services onto a one-page résumé? I've decided that they don't exist, or at least I haven't met them, and that's just the same to me. Their elusiveness is suspect - between rushing back and forth from cello practice, mentoring, volunteer firefighting, reforesting, saving endangered birds from oil spills and ghost writing the autobiography of some unsung hero or martyr, these young achievers must be spurred onwards by some hidden agenda, some covert plot aimed not at philanthropy but the sinister long-term goals of lavish success and political dominance.
And do we really want that type of person at a liberal arts college? The last thing we need is a bunch of wayward Ritalin fiends scurrying from practice to activity to colloquium to certification course just so they can expand already obnoxious résumés and swell their egos a tad more. Sadly enough, the admissions system still favors the super-achiever, that disturbing little posterchild. How could I have ever competed with that? Lucky for me, Middlebury realized they needed to admit at least a couple students from Canada who didn't play hockey - just to show that their interests in the country weren't strictly athletic. So they dug my application of the trash and sighed. And now I'm in here.
But I think I deserve to be here - loophole or not. So many qualified applicants have fantastic skills and experiences that would never be accepted as college résumé material. Just because a résumé is not brim full of achievements doesn't mean that the applicant has been sitting around wasting time, failing to improve her or himself as a human being. While those super-achievers were helping out at the natural history museum, I was listening to punk rock and taking turns punching my friends in the face. That taught me a lot. The human spirit was encapsulated in each jab and later sustained in each black eye and split lip. And I improved as a person because of it, but sadly, I can't boast about it on a résumé.
College résumés are about as constricting and awkward as personal ads. Middlebury and other colleges try to offer essay topics that will let your "personality" shine through, but we all know that the whole process caters to the super-achiever. The rest of us can always move to obscure places, excel at team sports, lie on our resumes or just ask a wealthy relative to donate generously. Work with what ya got.
The Deserted Bandwagon
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