Twenty years ago, before application numbers hit the stratosphere, young admissions officers were plenty busy. But they didn’t have to run as fast, or in as many directions.
These days they’re still shaking hands at high schools and attending college fairs. But they’re also meeting with leaders of community-based organizations that work with high-school students. They’re interviewing applicants at Starbucks and Panera. They’re responding to questions about paying for college. And they’re using data to determine which prospects to prioritize and when to schedule recruitment events.
“We’ve always wanted to hire young people who are positive, energetic, and charismatic,” says Monica C. Inzer, vice president and dean of admission and financial aid at at Hamilton College, in New York. “Now we want them to have technical skills and analytical skills, to use social media while they’re traveling. It weighs on them.”
That’s why training new hires is more important than ever before, many admissions officials say. Yet it’s a difficult endeavor in a field weighed down by various, sometimes conflicting institutional demands. Many admissions offices lack the resources — and, at times, the will — to provide comprehensive training and continuing professional development. And amid the ever-escalating competition for applicants, the most scarce resource of all is time.
Kirk Brennan remembers when, in the late 1990s, the University of Southern California admitted about 70 percent of its 13,000 applicants. Back then he could read scores of files a day, counting high-school courses and reading short essays to determine, without too much trouble, which applicants to admit.
For this year’s freshman class, the university received 54,000 applications. Recruiting and evaluating aspiring Trojans from all over the world required thousands of hours and countless judgments by a small army of staffers working on tight deadlines.
The Cost of Selectivity
Though selectivity signifies prestige (USC’s acceptance rate was 17 percent this year), it also comes at a cost. “As we’ve all become more selective, anxiety and competition have changed the character of the job,” Mr. Brennan says. “It wasn’t as consuming as it is today, and I don’t think, for counselors, it’s as fulfilling as it used to be.” He remembers that cost whenever he thinks about staff development, which is pretty much all the time.
The university, which employs 40 admissions officers to recruit and to read applications, runs an especially involved training program. New hires must take daylong “field trips” to the university’s constituent schools, where they learn about many different majors and the messages each department wants to send. They’re prepped on how to answer specific questions about the university, how to write business email, and how to set up a high-school visit.
We make sure they know how to pick up a phone and dial it, which seems to be a waning skill.
“We make sure they know how to pick up a phone and dial it,” Mr. Brennan says, “which seems to be a waning skill.”
That’s the easy stuff. Each year Mr. Brennan and his colleagues run three training retreats, each lasting a few days, that steep admissions officers in the fundamentals of the profession. The workshops are designed to prepare them for the major seasons — recruitment, reading, and “yield,” when colleges woo the admitted. A prominent topic: the best way to discuss college costs.
“It’s not easy to talk to a family meaningfully about paying a $70,000 bill,” Mr. Brennan says. “It takes counselors two or three cycles to develop an understanding of the questions coming their way. I’m still learning how to talk about cost in a way that’s credible to a parent.”
Technical know-how is crucial. Many admissions officers must learn how to evaluate high-school transcripts, interpreting an applicant’s achievements in context. This applicant attends a high school where 95 percent of students go on to college, but that one attends a high school with no Advanced Placement courses. At USC, admissions officers attend a two-hour presentation on the use of standardized-test scores, including what those numbers can and can’t tell you.
Stepping Outside Themselves
For all the nitty-gritty there is to learn, though, mastering the basic metrics is just the start. The bigger challenge for new admission officers, Mr. Brennan believes, is learning how to step outside themselves. Take standardized tests, for instance.
People who did poorly on the SAT tend to think it isn’t a good measure, and people who did well tend to think it’s a better measure than it probably is.
“People who did poorly on the SAT tend to think it isn’t a good measure, and people who did well tend to think it’s a better measure than it probably is,” he says. “It’s important for them to understand that their own experience is one of many potential experiences.”
Many newcomers struggle with the tension between recruitment and selection: They get to know — and, sometimes, advocate for — applicants, only to turn around and reject them. Carlos Jiménez, director of admission outreach and recruitment at Colorado College, recalls a young colleague who told him she “felt sick saying no” to so many applicants.
“I had to sit down and help her through that, reminding her that saying no to this kid at this college doesn’t mean no college for that kid at all,” he says. “Part of the generational thing I see with millennials is they’re so into collaboration, making sure no one is left behind. And that’s a hard thing to reconcile with saying no.”
Such one-on-one mentoring is great when it happens, but several current and former admissions professionals interviewed recently by The Chronicle said they had received too little guidance from their supervisors.
Many people get burned out because nobody really values them. The ones that get disenchanted are often at schools where someone just kind of lets them go.
“Many people get burned out because nobody really values them,” says Mildred R. Johnson, associate vice provost for enrollment management at Virginia Tech. “The ones that get disenchanted are often at schools where someone just kind of lets them go.” She tries to keep her staff engaged, by planning picnics and other social events, by seeking them out and asking about their experiences
Almost no one aspires to become an admissions officer — preparing for the job in advance, anticipating its demands. That complicates the task of developing young professionals. “I had to learn that this was a profession,” says Meagan Eastman, 27, who works in the University of South Florida’s admissions office. “At first I didn’t realize this job was a job.”
Like Ms. Eastman, many start at their alma mater, knowing little more than that they love the place. “It was overwhelming,” she says, “realizing how much there is to learn.”
The lack of a defined career path and formal training in admissions leaves many feeling “stalled at the gate,” contributing to a “high rate of turnover” among young employees, according to a recent report by the National Association for College Admission Counseling. The trick for colleges is to help new staffers find meaning in a job that many just fall into.
Eric Hoover writes about admissions trends, enrollment-management challenges, and the meaning of Animal House, among other issues. He’s on Twitter @erichoov, and his email address is eric.hoover@chronicle.com.
