EDITOR’S NOTE: As part of this admissions-themed issue, Vanderbilt Magazine asked the Division of Development and Alumni Relations to help us find a story about an active and supportive Vanderbilt graduate whose child applied to Vanderbilt but was not admitted. To protect this family’s privacy, we have agreed to publish the piece anonymously.
Being denied admission to Vanderbilt was more painful for us than our kid’s first trip to the emergency room. We agreed to write this in the hope that our family’s story might be helpful to some fellow alums. While the account is accurate, we have disguised the specifics so that neither we nor our children are identifiable.
As is the case for a surprising number of alumni couples, we met as undergraduates and married after graduation. We are enormously blessed: We’ve enjoyed rewarding careers, a comfortable, socially active lifestyle in a major metro area, and three healthy, but otherwise unique, children. Let’s call them “Moe,” “Larry” and “Curly.”
To be honest, we wanted all our kids to attend Vanderbilt. After all, we loved our time at our alma mater; it marked a watershed in our lives. Looking back, each of us—as well as each of our children—had a different Vanderbilt experience.
Our oldest child, Moe, was the guinea pig, whom we admittedly overmanaged. Moe was a gifted athlete, and we traveled widely and invested heavily to nurture Moe’s talents. Moe was recruited by Vanderbilt for a Division I sport but chose instead to attend an Ivy League school, which was a “reach” academically. Moe excelled as a varsity starter but was stretched in the classroom and finished in the bottom third of the class.
We’ll never know whether Moe would have prospered or even been happy at Vanderbilt. We pushed Moe to capitalize on athletic prowess to gain Ivy League admission. We delighted in Moe’s achievements as much as Moe did, maybe more at times. It’s probably fair to say that we encouraged hardwired behavior and that Moe would not have been satisfied on the sidelines. After all, Moe could have quit the team at any point during college, but instead soldiered on. Was it worth it? Moe now says that playing a Division I sport is like having a full-time job during college. The physical, social and academic sacrifices were significant. Being an Ivy League athlete gets better the longer one is away from it.
Larry had the same good grades and high SAT scores as sibling Moe and similar trophies before college. However, our middle child was always more interested in the team’s success than in individual stardom. Larry was well-qualified, applied early to Vanderbilt and was accepted. Number Two blossomed at Vandy, enjoyed Greek life and SEC rivalries, played a club sport, interned with a Nashville entertainment group, and earned a high GPA. After graduating Larry launched a career with a respected employer and is now attending a top-ranked graduate school.
Curly followed in the high school wake of the headline-grabbing older siblings. Our youngest participated in athletics but genuinely preferred art, photography and fashion, and craved urban excitement. Curly was born with a decider’s eye—an uncommon ability to choose colors, styles, designs and music.
“We were greatly disappointed and somewhat resentful when Curly was not admitted. After all, we had been generous supporters, and our families count seven Vanderbilt alumni among our ranks!”
We thoroughly prepped Curly to apply early to Vanderbilt even though we recognized admission would be a stretch. We were greatly disappointed and somewhat resentful when Curly was not admitted. After all, we had been generous supporters, and our families count seven Vanderbilt alumni among our ranks! Curly’s too-thin letter from our alma mater brought up our own deep-seated rejections. One of us was angry, and the other one cried.
In fairness, Vanderbilt was our school, and Curly had expressed no particular interest in anything Vandy. Had Number Three followed Number Two to Vanderbilt, Curly may never have ventured outside Larry’s shadow and social safety net. Our alma mater’s “rejection” freed Curly to apply to a school of our third’s own choosing. Curly selected an East Coast university that emphasized international study, languages and liberal arts, and then interned in video and new media ventures. Curly became expert in online media, which barely existed when we were “helping” to pave the way for our other children’s careers.
Curly now has a killer job in a hot industry and lives in one of the nation’s trendiest neighborhoods. Curly still knows exactly what look to pick and what trends to follow and how to promote them online, and gets paid well for it. Our third child once told us, “You guys are crazy. All I want to be is happy.” Only now can we appreciate the wisdom of Curly’s words.