Getting In: An Applicant's Guide to Graduate School!

By David Burrell
Applying to Graduate School Applying to graduate school is a difficult task. As a seven-time GRE instructor, three-time graduate school hopeful (once-delayed, once-denied, and once-accepted), and an avid reader of guidebooks and Internet newsgroups, I have yet to find someone who found the process straightforward. Applicants tend to bemoan the experience, don't understand it, and very often fail outright at first. It's a tough process, and not only have I seen several adult Kaplan students shed tears over this process, but I also recall my own experiences and troubles along the way. It is no wonder that such frustrations and fears take hold so readily, for heart-felt hopes and dreams are at stake here, not to mention applicants' professional futures and familial expectations. And indeed, despite their efforts, many accomplished, intelligent people fail to achieve their goals and win admission to graduate school. Why is this so, and more importantly, how can you avoid this? It is important to realize that we are not alone in our difficulties with regard to graduate school admissions. The confrontation of high standards with a limited number of applicants is not an occurrence unique to our generation. What has happened, however, is a dramatic rise in the perceived utility and importance of a graduate degree without a sufficiently corresponding rise in the related employment opportunities for graduate degree holders. The social perception of graduate degree importance thus has outstripped the available economic opportunities. At the same time, many people view the job market as increasingly stratified, with good jobs for highly educated people on one hand and limited opportunities elsewhere. Graduate institutions have therefore been faced with the choice of either accepting as many students as apply -- without regard for employment prospects - or alternatively, limiting acceptances. Indeed, since graduate school implies more than simply the attainment of a degree but rather professional training in a field, a lower acceptance rate actually may help save people from needlessly pursuing dead-end career paths. Nonetheless, there are many out there who would still follow this dream, and hurl themselves towards the goal with great hopes. The point to remember, then, is to consider your dedication to the graduate school endeavor and the post-graduation prospects before applying yourself to this difficult and misunderstood process. There is one "truth" to the graduate school admissions process that stands above all the others. It will be stated and shown in many ways over the pages which follow, but it must always be kept in mind, which is that graduate school admissions are fundamentally different than any other admissions process you may have witnessed or endured. This process is not like applying to college; Grades, Scores, and Recommendations are only the beginning. Therefore, given the variety of strengths and weaknesses that admissions teams are likely to see, it becomes incumbent upon you as a graduate school applicant to set yourself apart from and above the competition. For this reason, focusing solely upon the ordinary procession of grades, scores, and recommendations will not help. Indeed, considering the relative immutability of your Grades, Scores, and Recommendations (what I will call your "GSR"), it is the grand sum of things that you do to supplement these "standard items" that can make the largest degree of difference in your application process. Certainly you can worry about the relative power of your GSR, and try to enhance these things as much as possible, but you ultimately have more to offer than the these

numbers alone. Use your strength, creativity, and sheer willpower to bolster your candidacy; these traits ultimately will be essential in catapulting you towards your goals. The ordinary commencement of graduate school efforts -- the standard application process -- is at once familiar and sadly misdirected. Based upon the aforementioned fundamental misconception of graduate admissions, the experience of a hypothetical "Andrea Average" may help to illustrate the common woes of first-time applicants. To begin her graduate school odyssey, Andrea Average is going to review the various schools and programs available to her, and express disconsolate alarm over the very high standards required for admissions. In order to get in, Andrea decides that she will have to do something serious about her GSR. So, she'll worry interminably about her grade point average, and possibly take extra night classes to get closer to that 3.x range that she has been coveting (she's pretty sure that people with these kinds of grades get in). She will spend feverish months studying for the GRE's, shooting for some pie-in-the-sky score which, she will soon find out, is not only likely impossible but also not nearly that important to most programs. Regardless, to round things out Ms. Average also will spend much anxious time with the employers and professors from whom she hopes to get a few letters of recommendation. She is not sure exactly what to say, but she smiles broadly and absentmindedly at them. They smile back slightly unnerved by her attention. A few weeks before the deadlines, Andrea is ready to choose three or four schools from among the brochures scattered about the room, and she begins her final preparations. She'll finally ask her convenient authority figures for letters of recommendation (she thinks there may be another form to fill out, though, and promises to bring it early next week). Andrea has also begun to request her GRE score reports and college transcripts (one at a time for each school, as it occurs to her). And she may even begin to write a draft of the personal statement, starting off with "Ever since I was a little girl" and ending with "change the world, in my own way." Soon mail will be flying everywhere: transcripts, score reports, faculty recommendations, and replacement copies of marred application forms careening about in postal chaos. And luckily, she's an organized type; all but one of her applications should arrive on time. Then, she'll wait. And she'll worry. And after five months of telling people of her plans and publicly bemoaning her fears, Andrea Average will not be packing her bags to move off to graduate school. She'll be staying home. Though this scenario with Andrea Average clearly is embellished, the pattern of failed applicants is genuine. Typical graduate school applicants like Andrea come with an honest and deeply-held commitment to the goal, even without comprehending the process by which to achieve it. And the blame sits not with Andrea's GSR -- which she probably faults for her fate -- but in her poor methods and preparations. Underlying all of it are her strongly-held, widely-perpetuated beliefs that, A) only the GSR really matters, B) being earnest, caring and creative will only win you a nice eulogy, and C) the process is genuinely quite similar to undergraduate admissions. The sooner these beliefs are dispelled, the better. I will state this just once more: it is not that GSR's do not matter or that the standard ways of applying to graduate school are bad. There are simply other facets to exploit and additional

means for compiling an application with greater chances for success. I have learned these things partly from listening to others, partly from scouring every available resource for ideas, and partly from the experience of personal failure (the worst, but most common, method of education). Above all, I stress the fact that your efforts are paramount: that being earnest, caring, and creative not only will win you a nice eulogy, but also may help you to get into graduate school... the first time you apply. DECIDING WHERE TO APPLY: Directories such as Peterson's Guide to Graduate Programs are critical to the first stage in your process of choosing a graduate school. Besides giving an idea about the breadth and scope of programs available, they will provide you with complete listings of school addresses, program directors, faculty members, and number of applicants/enrolled students. This sort of information can help you to identify the twenty or thirty programs in which you have at least some interest. Throughout this process, however, you will need to keep an open mind -- schools that you never would have considered may suddenly sound intriguing, and programs that you supposed were top of the line may turn out to be less than advertised. Keeping an academic diary with a list of schools under consideration, the date, and perhaps the reasons for rejecting each program will be both informative and interesting to you as the time passes. Once this initial stage has been completed, you are ready to request forms, brochures, and application materials from each school. This is best completed in July or August, as most programs do not have the new forms or lists of current faculty printed before then. Don't bother asking specific questions; most schools start by sending only the basic information in their "prescreening" process. Not that they are evaluating your credentials yet, but they do try to identify the "I love this place!" students from those who are "Just shopping, thanks." Once you have received the standard materials, you should certainly address these specific questions to the graduate secretary or program director; that is, if you haven't already learned the answers through the initial mailings. The majority of graduate school guidebooks are ludicrously inadequate insofar as offering specific criterion by which to choose a graduate school. The assumption is, I suppose, that you know what you are looking for, and that therefore the main factor will be completing the applications. I disagree. There are many programs out there that could be right for you, and finding as many of them as possible will increase your chances proportionately. An improved selection process therefore should enable you to choose from significantly more admissions offers and better financial aid packages. By considering the many factors involved, you will forge a process more reasonable and clearheaded from the start. Reputation: Emphasized more than anything else, this factor is, in fact, probably the most important thing to consider. Besides helping you to obtain employment and learn from some of the very best professors, a school with a solid reputation gives your degree some gravitas, an aura of universal respectability. Most guidebooks, professors, and people in the field place this "reputation" factor quite apart from and above the many others which follow. And with the difficult job market ahead and the many additional resources that generally accompany a school with reputation, I would be loathe to contradict them. But, of course, it is not the only thing.

Competition: Who will you be competing against for admission to this program? Are your scores and undergraduate grades comparable? Don't get hooked on a school for the wrong reasons, especially if your qualifications do not approximate the level of competition for that particular school. By the same token, realize that you bring a unique set of academic abilities and personal traits to any graduate program. Could the Harvards of this world accept only summa cum laude varsity lettermen from the Ivy League? Possibly so, but could you imagine this class?! They aren't looking for cookie-cutter people, after all. Convince them of your merits, and they may be looking for you.

Geographic Location: For personal or family reasons, applicants sometimes have only a certain geographic range of schools to which they can apply. Being as open as possible to different areas will increase dramatically the prospects available to you. It also may help you to get in to certain schools, as the University of Idaho might want to diversify its student body with a true Southerner, for instance. But you will also need to consider that the school's reputation and alumni network will be strongest within a few hundred miles of the school, and therefore many of your post-graduation job prospects will emanate from this region. If you can't see yourself living in the area for very long and are applying to a school without a nationwide reputation, you may be doing yourself a disservice. Recommender's Recommendations: Where did the people who are writing your references get their degrees? Since admissions teams habitually evaluate the qualifications of the recommenders (and what could be better than their own alumni?), these schools might be well worth considering. Alternatively, ask your recommenders if they know anyone at the other programs to which you are applying, or if they recommend any particular programs for your interests and background. Remember the saying: "it's not what you know; it's who you know." Get to know as many people as possible, and utilize their insight as fully as possible. Number Of Students: This is important both for your own personal tastes (can you stand being in a program with just a handful of students or one with several hundred?), as well as for future job prospects. Some applicants believe that a smaller student body will translate into more personalized attention and a better chance of being "top dog," whereas others see additional classmates as resources for program reputation and name recognition. You must also keep in mind that the more faculty and alumni a program offers, the bigger that program's "network" will be. Under relatively larger programs, your chances of being introduced to "people in the know" - and who may help you to find jobs -- will increase proportionately. (This final point, however, assumes that the people who graduate from the program are able to obtain employment with their degree, no mean feat in itself.) Urban/Rural Campus: Where do you want to live? With M.A. programs generally taking two years to complete, and Ph.D.'s stretching to about six or seven years, this urban/rural difference can become a pretty important factor. Of course, it need not be similar to your undergraduate institution, and there may be advantages to a new perspective that you have not yet considered.

You may also find that a novel setting is "acceptable" as long as you are sufficiently pleased with the other, more substantial aspects of your environment. Research Interests: Certain schools have reputations that emphasize particular facets of their curricula. If you have areas which you especially enjoy or dislike to concentrate upon, this can make a big difference. In fact, the school with the best overall reputation may not be the one that excels in your particular area of interest. On the other hand, however, you may decide to change your specialty after you enter grad school. How much will this affect your happiness with this particular school?

Academic Resources: Library size is something you always hear about in brochures. You think, "Who cares? How many of these 19.3 trillion books, 42 million dissertations, and 97,000 journal subscriptions am I actually going to read anyway?" Answer: a very small percentage. BUT when you decide to do a research paper on some obscure topic (aren't they all?), you will be pleased to have one or two special resources on hand (or at least, under the mattress of one of your supercompetitive classmates). Things like science labs, computer centers, departmental fellowship funds, and archival holdings in your field of interest similarly represent the institution's dedication to providing resources for its graduate population. You will appreciate them when the time comes; find out what they offer up front. Curriculum Choices: Be certain that the school offers the exact degree you are interested in pursuing. If you are interested in more than one possibility, see if the school has both. It would certainly be easier if you could just change programs without also having to change addresses, wouldn't it? Social Life: A school's social life will be reflected partly by the strength of the graduate community, partly by the scope of public attractions available, and partly by the atmosphere within the department itself. Articles, advertisements, and crime reports in the school newspaper are all time-tested methods of judging the tenor of social activities; talking to current students is another. When choosing whom to interview for this purpose, try to approach people who look like they've seen natural sunlight at some point in the last few weeks... and the skylight in the main library doesn't count. Job Placement: All schools will say they have a solid record of success, but how can it be possible to have a tough job market when all these schools tout "94% professional placement rates"? Check the figures, ask students, look at employment listings; in short, do whatever you can to ascertain the true story on this score. This will, after all, be the most important thing to you in a few years (aside from the excitement of adding a few initials -- M.A., P.A., M.A.T., M.F.A., Ph.D., whatever -- to your newly-acquired promissory notes). Many schools are accepting students into dangerously oversubscribed professions. Although the numbers are difficult if not impossible to obtain, a rough guesstimate will be an important distinction between programs for you to consider.

Rate Of Attrition: Some departments do a better job of weeding out graduate applicants after they arrive on campus than in admissions. Again, the numbers are difficult to determine. Check the size of the entering classes versus those graduating, query the admissions staff, and ask students currently enrolled for the real story. If the students have no idea what you're talking about, fine. If they do, listen carefully... and ask a few more students. Graduate/Undergraduate Status: Graduate students quite often are an afterthought to the strategic planning of university administrators, especially since they comprise a relatively small, selfregulating body of adults who don't tend to cause problems (e.g., tearing up the newly-seeded football field, puking on wealthy benefactors, leading demonstrations against cafeteria food). This is even more likely if the vast majority of students (i.e., "tuition income sources") are undergraduates. Check the ratio of graduate to undergraduate students to see how outnumbered you will be. This ratio also will tell you something about the school's social priorities. If undergraduates seriously dominate the landscape, the academic and social life probably will also be skewed in that direction. As long as you don't mind buying beer for nineteen-year-olds and giggling at sophomoric jokes, this won't matter to you. Otherwise, ask. Accreditations: After you spend several years working towards this degree, will professionals in the field universally acclaim you as one of their own, or will they look at you like you just bought a Cracker Jacks license? Check the number and status of the various accrediting agencies if you have any doubts. Well-Known Faculty: The opportunity to work under the academic "giants" in your field of interest is one of the most exciting thing about graduate study. Be careful about basing your decision on this, however, as this great faculty member may die, leave, take a sabbatical, or other such thing. It is true that a faculty advisor who transfers to a different school often can bring his/her promising students to the destination program; those who die, however, leave their students plum out of luck. For Master's Students: It may be advantage for you to consider schools which offer the Ph.D. as well as the M.A., since they often can offer richer resources, stronger faculty, and a broader base of students and alumni. On the flip side, however, you will want to determine the prevailing attitude towards masters students in such programs. Finding yourself on the short end of a preference for doctoral students can easily make graduate school a much less pleasant experience than it might otherwise be. For Doctoral Candidates: Keep in mind that the major purpose of most doctoral programs is focused upon publishing, and use that as an important yardstick for your own choices. What is the average length of time to complete a dissertation at the various programs? What subjects have been featured in previous candidates' dissertations? Is funding available to students after finishing the comprehensives? Such questions will illuminate the priorities and problems that may define your post-Master's work at this school, or alternatively force you to consider transferring... and unnecessarily endure this application process again. And there are a few more things you may or may not want to consider

Age Of Professors? It may be a drawback to have professors at the twilight of their careers, possibly unmotivated and not abreast of current conditions in the profession. Or, it may be bad to have young professors primarily concerned with making a name for themselves and moving on to a bigger name school. You decide if you care or not. Possibility Of Funding? Institutions with larger endowments sometimes will offset high tuitions, but don't count on it. Unless you are in the hard sciences or independently wealthy, you're either going to need to scramble for fellowships or go into hock with a government loan... or probably both. Greater opportunities for funding may come as you move down the academic food chain to schools of lesser reputation, but will it be worth it? It is best to decide after you are accepted. Big Fish / Little Pond? Should you blend in among the myriad geniuses at top Brand X University or instead be one of the brightest students who ever attended Whatsa Matta U? There are advantages to both. While the former option may offer greater challenges, better contacts, and wider recognition, the latter may provide a more responsive institution and more enthusiastic sponsors. Most professors, students, and guidebooks recommend the former choice as the only sane academic decision to make, and better in the long run. Again, this is a good question to decide after you've been accepted. Language Requirement? I include this only because every history program I applied to required reading knowledge of at least one language for the M.A., and two for the Ph.D. Believe me, I took special note of those schools which had lesser standards, and you may want to as well. (I've now got to relearn Latin from eight years ago: in rivo fimi sine remo sum - Latin for "I'm up the creek without a paddle!") Costs or Workload? Grad school costs a small fortune and requires your best academic efforts no matter where you go. Any program that cuts corners to increase enrollment probably will prove quite disappointing when you receive your degree. Graduate school bargains, limited workloads, or "Get Your Degree By Mail!" options should therefore be discarded. However, there is one exception to the cost factor: public universities sometimes can offer subsidized tuition rates significantly better than private schools without a corresponding drop in quality. These may be worth investigating. Special concerns? Add these to your list. Any means of making your choices broader and more informed will lead to a more fruitful application process. Once you've completed your list, you will need to locate the appropriate resources for information. Professors, current students, and professionals in the field often can provide useful anecdotal information. For questions of relative reputation, however, books such as Educational Rankings Annual and The Gourman Report are indispensable. Probably the most popular and widely-discussed source of relative rankings is the U.S. News and World Report graduate school issue which arrives each March. Though the various sources often disagree in their relative rankings, check how they tabulate their results to decide which you find most appropriate. It also may be useful to compare from one year to another to see if your school is rising or falling in the rankings.

More specialized reports can be found in most journal subscriptions or association reports within your field. Since these sources reflect the ideas of working professionals, they hold special weight. In addition, Ph.D. candidates can find information by reviewing the list of doctorates awarded by particular departments or by consulting Dissertation Abstracts, published monthly by University Microfilms International. Humanities doctoral candidates may also check the academic journal Lingua Franca for job placements of recent Ph.D.'s, noting whose graduates are getting hired and by whom these graduates are being employed. Most students apply to far too few programs their first time around. Don't make such an "Andrea Average" mistake. When you finally emerge from the piles of brochures and personal recommendations and yearly program rankings, have a solid number of schools to which you can apply. You will be better off sending applications to a wide range of programs and deciding between the several acceptances -- and financial aid packages offered -- than having few or no options. Applying to a dozen or more schools is probably overkill, and applying to just three or four is too few. Seven to ten applications is probably the most reasonable figure for your targeted approach. Choose some very ambitious schools, so that you will know that you got into the very best school that you could, and choose some real safety schools as well. Perhaps these latter schools won't provide the status or resources that you had wished for, but this is worst-case planning. Ask yourself, "would I rather go to this mediocre program or not get the degree at all?" After doing so, you probably will find one or two lower-dwelling institutions to fulfill your needs satisfactorily. CONTACTING FACULTY MEMBERS: Contacting professors at the schools in which you are interested is probably the single most unique thing about graduate school admissions. Though Andrea Average never would have considered this, it is an extraordinarily valuable experience. Many positive things will emerge from your efforts, including your own evolving recognition of the application process as essentially interpersonal, not impersonal as it most often is viewed. As a practical matter, you probably should hope to contact at least one professor at each school to which you are thinking of applying. With seven to ten schools, this is still quite a lot of letters, but after the first is completed the rest will flow relatively easily. First, do your homework. Check through the brochures of all the schools you are seriously considering. Using the faculty listings and research interests as a guide, check whom might you be especially interested in working with, or under. Even if this professor does not end up being your advisor, you will have engaged a important collegial relationship, and gained useful information as well. Certainly it won't kill you to be wrong about whom to choose, but you might as well be right. Next, go to the largest library available. A large regional library will do, but a strong university system is even better. You are going to be doing a small bit of research on each of these

professors for whom you haven't got sufficient information. Check especially through such things as The National Faculty Directory and the Directory of American Scholars. You don't need a great deal of information, but seek useful tidbits. For instance, working with a professor who won a significant award in your field is going to help increase your reputation for having worked under her. Perhaps peruse books or articles by selected professors -- but realize that a personally interesting professor might write extremely turgid articles, so weigh this impression lightly. The primary goal is information sufficient to glimpse the professor's interests and to make an intelligent, informed presentation in your letter. As far as the letter itself, you will first need to explain who the heck you are. Don't begin by apologize for writing or being interested in their program; you are grateful for their time of course, but remember that this is saving both you and the institution the hassle of a possibly unnecessary application. Discuss their research interests and why you are particularly interested in their program; the more specific you can be, the better. You'll probably also want to know whether they would be available as an advisor next year, or some such thing pertinent to your decision whether to apply to this school. Send a copy of your rsum: it will readily introduce them to you without having to come right out and say how great you are, and will allow them to judge your qualifications for the program. It's best to find out now if they think you might be overmatched by the competition, and for you either to respond or to change your plans accordingly. Then wait several weeks for a reply. These are busy folks, after all, and no one gets awards or recognition or higher pay for responding promptly to prospective graduate students. When you do get a response, be happy. This is a momentous opportunity to gauge your candidacy and to correct any mistaken impressions. If they loved your credentials, thank them; or if, as is likely, they were wishy-washy, you can reinforce the more positive aspects. You can then choose either to continue the correspondence, or wrap it up and let them know how much you appreciate their help (you do, don't you?). Whichever it is, you now have someone on the faculty who at very least will recognize your name. You've also got a name to mention in your personal statement, indicating both your enduring interest in the program and the maturity of your decision to apply. And you probably understand the school or department a little better. It was an effort well spent. VISITING SCHOOLS: Taking a trip to the schools under consideration can be a valuable experience in your application process. Flexible in their aims, these visits can be completed to good effect either before, during, or after the application season. Whether your intent is to learn more about the "feel" of the school, speak with current students, or discuss your qualifications with program administrators, a school visit aids your admissions process immeasurably. One of these immeasurable gains is in learning more about the school. By doing so, of course, you will be helping to improve the focus and specificity of your application, but more importantly you will get a sense on how you might fit in with this program and this campus. Sitting in the library stacks, watching interactions across the quadrangle, reading the school

newspaper, and overhearing student conversations are all nonobtrusive means to gauging the ephemeral "quality of social life." Less timid graduate school hopefuls might also attempt something known as "actually talking with someone" for the same effect. In any event, you should leave the school with a much better sense of the school's intellectual and social climate. If you decide to interview (these are generally optional), follow all those standard rules about eye contact, conservative dress, self-confident presentation, and so forth. Know the specifics about the program in which you are interested, read the school paper for up-to-date news, and be prepared with intelligent questions to ask. Interviews which are not mandatory for the admissions process are generally quite less rigorous than ordinary, and often turn into a sort of mutual question-and-answer session. Regardless of this informality, your interpersonal skills, maturity, professionalism, and ability to communicate effectively should permeate the interview. If you are terrible at interviewing, don't be afraid to shy away from such meetings (sickness and travel costs are two perennial excuses that work), or to practice your skills with some lower ranked schools before approaching your top choices. If you are great in person, greet the opportunity to interview with open arms and a ready smile. It's usually not a deciding factor, but every little bit counts. COMMANDO TACTICS WHILE WAITING: Okay, so you've sent your applications in, and you know you got them there by the deadline because you sent them second-day air at least four days before they were due, $3 being a small price to guarantee such internal serenity and peace of mind, after all. Or, you sent them next day air because you were too lazy to save yourself $11 by sending them in any earlier. Or -- and this is really hard to believe, but theoretically plausible -- you sent them in several weeks before they were due, and spoke with Ms. Beeswick (writing down name, date, and time in a special diary...) at the admissions office who assured you that they had arrived in fine shape, and aren't you a darling for being so prompt and considerate of her time constraints? (Yuck...) Now what? This is where, again, many graduate applicants fall into the fateful Undergraduate Admissions mode of thinking. They sit down and wait politely and worry where they might get in and think "oh, won't it be great if any one of them accepts me?" One word: wrong. Yes, it's true, many people get accepted exactly this way. In fact, probably the vast majority do. Few people think to act differently. And you may not want to act differently. But I would suggest that you consider -- just consider -- other ways of keeping busy during this graduate admissions "void." Contact Your Recommenders: The people who have recommended you would love to hear from you. Why don't you call, visit, or write them a letter? Tell them where you finally applied, what fellowships you've discovered, and how the whole thing went (very well, I would expect, with the amount of planning you did). Of course you're going to contact them again after the admissions letters start trickling in, but at least they will be appraised of the current situation.

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And they may even be willing to help you a little further, if the urgent need should arise. Certainly don't forget them at this critical stage. Call Politely To Inquire: Unless you received a postcard stating that everything in your file was completed, you should call the admissions offices to make sure that there are no lingering problems with your application packet. Especially if they informed you that something was missing, you'll need to follow up later by asking whether the additional forms ("Sent out on this date: ___________") have been received at their office. Call it peace-of-mind insurance or whatever, but call. Visit Schools: This is a terrific time to travel. You're bored and nervous, they're currently looking over your application, and meeting each other now may be just the thing to dispel any questions or doubts either you or the program might have. Moreover, by making your name and face familiar to them, you will gain a qualitative advantage over other candidates. Just as in politics, name recognition is half the battle; the more familiar they are with you, and the more they connect that name to a living, breathing person, the better off you are. Get On The 'Net: You're not alone, and the Internet will prove it. Right about this time newsgroups like "soc.college.grad" and "soc.college.gradinfo" start blooming with information and questions and worried remarks from people just like you. Ask around to see whether School X has sent any acceptance letters yet, or if the fellowship from the National Piscatological Society seems as fishy to other folks as it does to you. You'll probably also hear the lamentations of exemplary students with 4.1 GPA's (due to their double A+ in Theoretical Astrophysics) discuss how they were denied admission even to Drunken State University because they had failed to fold their forms into correct thirds. Ignore them, they're either liars or idiots -- everyone knows you don't fold application forms, they go in big manila envelopes! Don't Expect A Reply Until Late: It's probably better to fool yourself into believing that acceptance letters won't be coming out until at least two weeks after the admissions office say they will. Thus, when they arrive seven weeks late (as typical), you'll only have spent five anxious weeks of peering inside an empty mailbox. And although the temptation is great, you may find that you are better off not harassing the admissions office every day, or screaming at the office personnel: "What the hell would you have done if MY stuff had arrived seven weeks late!?" This strategy, as natural as it seems, tends quite often to backfire. Call Politely Again: It is okay, however, to make one or two brief calls to the admissions offices, gently reminding them of your continuing interest in the program. You may also wonder openly about the current status of your file, the number of applications received, or how many acceptance/denial letters have already gone out, or other such things. They may not answer directly, but hey, you're just being friendly, right? Send An Additional Recommendation: Now we are getting into some more serious measures. While it is generally wise to stay within the proscribed limits as far as recommendations and essay lengths are concerned, you may decide that your application could use a little lift and that, with a certain amount of tact, you might help it by sending along an additional recommendation. Tell them, for instance, that you originally had intended to include this recommendation but that

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it had arrived late, and you were sending it along now whether they would could use it or not. Of course, this is only one possible scenario, but your general strategy is clear: show an abiding interest in their program, offer additional resources for their decision-making, and subtly provide another reason for them to learn your name. Slightly risky, yes, but not much. The worst they can do is not read the recommendation, and you will have openly recognized that option unassumingly. Again, this is not a conventional strategy, but it is indicative of the opportunity to be both creative and persistent in your efforts, however you decide necessary, and to follow through to the end. Send a Letter: Unorthodox but surprisingly low-risk strategy is the idea of contacting graduate programs after applications have been sent. Perhaps you worry that you have created a mistaken impression of your interests or strengths, or fear that successive denials threaten your chances for admission at all. For whatever reason, you may decide to send a letter to the remaining schools to reinforce your interest and to reacquaint them with you. Tell them if they're #1 (conveniently forgetting, of course, to tell them that they're the only program left!) or let them know that you've just received a private fellowship offer (whereas money may not "talk" in the graduate admissions process, it certainly grunts pretty audibly). Professional journals, Internet newsgroups, and ongoing conversations with your recommenders also may provide excuses for letterwriting. Whatever the source, the purpose again is to separate you from the crowd, increase familiarity with your name, and demonstrate your particular interest and knowledge of their program -- all worthwhile causes. Recommenders' Aid: As an interpersonal process, why not recognize any potential aid your recommenders might provide? If one of them should happen to know certain faculty members or be an alumnus/a at the school in question, they may be able to aid your application in a personal way. Yes, this sounds like a covert action, but it isn't. Think if you were in the process of hiring someone, and a friend called to say he/she knew one of the applicants to be a fantastic worker, despite a relatively standard rsum. Would you feel more confident in hiring that person? Certainly. Likewise there is nothing wrong in allowing other people to say nice things about you, as long as they do so willingly. The only thing that is difficult is finding a tactful way of asking for such a favor. I can only say this: the more concerned you are, the easier the asking will become. Truly Desperate Suggestions: These two are added only to give you an idea of other guidebooks' somewhat amazing and rather blunt advice. I endorse neither of them, but I'd love to hear if either one actually works... The most overt strategy, perhaps, is to buy one's way into a program or school with a very large donation, perhaps through the generosity of a parent. This opportunity is available to few applicants and is difficult to document. Those few applicants in a situation to pursue such an approach presumably do not need further advice on the topic. Or this little gem.... A final high risk alternative is to use connections you may have with university administrators or other heavies. This essentially means arm twisting rather than persuasion.

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Apply To Lesser Schools: If you are honestly worried about your chances of getting in anywhere, a quick dash back to Peterson's might be in order. You might have eliminated this by including a Stone Age primitive, basic type of safety school from the very beginning, but this is no time for self-recrimination. Go ahead and complete the application for two such safety schools now. You can decide later whether you're better off, A) with no degree, or B) waiting until next year's round of applications. It'll be nice in any case to have a choice in the matter, and not have the decision thrust upon you unwillingly. A FINAL NOTE: Congratulations! You've waded through all the online sections of this guidebook with me, laughing on some things and perhaps disagreeing on others, but hopefully gaining a more holistic conception of the grad school application process along the way. I thank you for reading, and would appreciate any ideas or criticisms you might offer. My aim largely fulfilled, allow me to end on a personal note. People frequently told me over this past year that I was certain to get into graduate school, pointing to a strong GSR and several years of related experience. Implied was the notion that somehow the methods of the admissions process meant less than they otherwise might have, and that my experience therefore was beyond the norm. The truth is, I might easily have agreed with these notions a year and a half ago. But that was before I had gone through the process. I received my first letter of denial from the University of North Carolina in April 1994. And then another negative response, from the University of Virginia that same month. And then a third, from Rutgers. Three tries, all rejections. The people who were with me then saw reality strike hard. I had a difficult time accepting the situation, let alone understanding it. And I endured some serious soul-searching. But I now know that I was not "destined" for graduate school. Indeed, virtually no one is. In an overlooked but wonderfully democratic way, the process exercises an equal capacity for destroying dreams. The way in which you apply to graduate school is radically important, regardless of what you bring to the table. That is partly why I view this guide as so worthwhile a project. It can help in a small way to ease this "process," and illuminate a path through the confusion. In 1994-95, I had the exact same grades, scores, recommendations, and job history as in 1993-94. But, more knowledgeable about the process, I had changed many things about my applications. Among these changes were: the choice of schools (ten, not three -- more ambitious and with two "safeties") the neatness of my application forms (as silly as that sounds) the style of my personal statement (frequently rewritten) the writing sample submitted (completely rewritten) my participation in professional organizations (genuinely eye-opening)

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my decision to visit schools (limited, but rewarding) the involvement of my recommenders (intimately the second time - very important) post-application waiting tactics (totally non-commando at first) the contact initiated and sustained with professors (probably the most important) my knowledge of Internet resources and uses the careful organization of materials, deadlines, and so forth. What is important to recognize, however, is the dramatically different results that ensued. Whereas the first effort earned me three rejections and intense self-doubts, the second concluded with acceptances to six outstanding programs and three terrific financial aid packages (which alone will now save me over $85,000 -- well worth the $1000 investment in application fees). Same GSR and same job history; different methods. Now, after a year of teaching the GRE's and watching Kaplan students spend inordinate hours on a single facet of the graduate school application process, I have tried to illuminate the process, far more interpersonal than I had ever before realized. Prominent among the list of individuals who helped me is Professor Lorraine Attreed, a Holy Cross professor with whom I was casually acquainted as an undergraduate. More than simply a recommendation, over the years of my graduate school efforts she became a much-valued source of strength and encouragement, helping to support my dreams through the various ebbs and tides. So after finally receiving my letters of acceptance and financial aid offers in Spring 1995, I wrote to express my gratitude to her. She responded in typical prompt and kind fashion, shrugging off my accolades, and also indirectly encouraging the composition of this guide: Nothing is better than having a student turn into a friend, and someday a colleague. In fostering that change, we pay back all the people who helped us along the way. We can't pay them back directly; all we can do is help along the next (half-) generation. We can't directly reimburse our own teachers and mentors for time, letters, dinners, encouragement, faith. We can only show it to others. So you, in turn, will foster others, and find that no personal repayment is necessary or wanted. This, then, represents an initial "down payment" to Professor Attreed's genial mission. I hope only that this relatively impersonal medium may illustrate a small fraction of the love, hopes, fear, worry, and friendship that ultimately comprise the successful graduate school application, and thus pass along the legacy of caring and support that came to me when I most needed it. Good luck, be persistent, and take care of your graduate school dreams.

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