I love Thanksgiving: it’s about family and food, without the
trappings of the presents at Christmas. That’s good news and bad news, as
Patrick O’Connor laid out here.
As Thanksgiving approaches, I have a request for colleges:
PLEASE… for the love of all things good in the world… don’t release decisions
on Thanksgiving!
Don’t think this happens? Allow me to relate:
Thanksgiving, 2020. It was already an odd day: do we go somewhere
or not? Capacity limits? Masks? Darwinism?
We were getting ready to go to my sister’s, and I was making
the sweet potato casserole my daughters are both completely in awe of and
request every holiday. As I took care of one task, I felt my phone buzz.
Thinking it was my sister reminding me to bring something or another, I
checked.
It was an email from my daughter’s top choice school: “Your
decision is available in your portal.”
Suddenly, I lost track of the vanilla and butter in the
sweet potatoes; I could have added jalapenos for all I knew. It was
Thanksgiving morning, before noon, things were good and calm, and we were
getting ready to see family for the first time in a while.
And now a college decision was looming.
My hope that my daughter didn’t notice the email was dashed
when I heard “DAAAAAADDDDD!” from down the hall. She came into the kitchen, no
color in her face. “What do I do?”
My wife and I traded confused looks, unsure how to answer. “What
do you want to do?” I asked, trading on my re-phrasing and questioning learned
in counseling school.
“I want to know, but I also want to enjoy Aunt Deb’s. I don’t
know. But if I don’t open it, I will spend the whole day wondering.”
We looked at each other, and then said to her the words that
I always told parents to say to kids: “OK… remember that this decision isn’t an
indication of your self-worth. We love you no matter what.”
“Whatever… I need to find my password.”
We were fortunate: the decision was a positive one, and the
smile on her face all day was infectious. That said, I didn’t need that heart
attack before I could even get some of the bacon-greased turkey skin in me.
So, dear colleagues in the admissions offices across the
nation: please turn the notifications off until Friday. I mean, can you really
improve or ruin Black Friday?
Have a wonderful, restful, Thanksgiving.