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Even valedictorians
are finding it hard to land spots at the nation's most-selective colleges,
so "Ben" wasn't about to take chances. Over the past four years, the
New Jersey father of two has spent about $30,000 for guidance from Michele
Hernandez, a Lake Oswego, Ore. college counselor who charges up to $36,000
per student for advice on everything from what courses to take to how
to spend summers.
"We have regular kids who are pretty bright and nice and do a lot of
activities," says Ben, who, like many interviewed for this article,
requested anonymity. "We were looking to give our kids whatever advantages
we could." Both sons were accepted by their first-choice schools: small,
private colleges that admit about 25% of applicants.
Despite the soaring cost of college, a growing number of families are
paying as much as a year's tuition, room, and board on independent consultants
such as Hernandez. They seek advice not just on completing applications
but also on the raw material that goes into them courses and
extracurricular activities. That means bringing these advisers on board
as early as eighth or ninth grade.
Although college admissions officers take a dim view of these unregulated
advisers, the Independent Educational Consultants Assn., a nonprofit
in Fairfax, Va., estimates that some 22% of the freshmen at private,
four-year colleges this year have used them.
Some advisers say they're turning away potential clients. Hernandez
began offering four-day "application boot camps" for about $8,000 last
summer to accommodate overflow from her practice, which currently numbers
60 clients. "We're very selective about the students we work with,"
says Victoria Hsiao, a partner at IvySuccess in Garden City, N.Y., which
charges up to $28,500. The firm has about 100 clients right now and
has served about 1,000 since opening nine years ago.
The guides say their goal is simply to find a good match for each student.
But with the nation's most-selective colleges receiving record numbers
of applications, they say they must also help their clients stand out.
High school students "often don't know what's typical and what's interesting
about themselves," says Rachel Toor, a former admissions officer at
Duke University who charges up to $200 an hour. "I try to figure out
what it is about them that's going to get an admissions officer to fall
in love."
GOING DEEP
What you get depends on how close your child is to attending college.
When a client signs on just before senior year, the focus is generally
on the application process. Most counselors do not make calls to admissions
officers on clients' behalf. But they urge students to express a strong
interest themselves by, for example, contacting professors whose research
is of interest and attending lectures. To prepare her 200-odd clients
for interviews, Katherine Cohen, founder of New York's IvyWise, which
charges up to $30,000, videotapes practice sessions for those who need
it. Advisers help students compile activity resumés and athletic
videos to send to coaches. They also help brainstorm essay ideas and
edit drafts. The goal: to get students to write in a compelling way
about a revealing experience or aspect of their personalities. A Princeton
University student from a Western state says Hernandez urged him to
explore "what home means to me and how heading east will never change
the Western part of me." Students whose parents hire consultants earlier
receive guidance on much more. Some counselors say they steer students
to unusual activities. IvySuccess encouraged a girl intent on Massachusetts
Institute of Technology to enroll in beauty pageants, an activity that's
not typical of the school's applicant pool. She was accepted. Counselors
also help students think of ways to demonstrate a serious commitment
to their interests. Cohen, whose agency advises on admissions from preschool
through grad school, suggests submitting history papers to The Concord
Review, a journal that publishes high school authors. She has introduced
clients interested in internships to contacts in film, art, publishing,
and on Wall Street. "To get into a top school, you have to show that
you're different and that you've done some amazing things," Hernandez
says, repeating a theory that most counselors espouse. Advisers say
they are also seeing demand from students with learning disabilities.
"Anna" relied on Cohen in her final three years at a private school
in California to help her choose a challenging mix of courses that left
time for theater: Anna's credits include an off-Broadway play. Working
partly at Cohen's offices the summer before senior year, she polished
off her applications ahead of deadline. "I don't work well under pressure,"
says Anna, who plans to major in theater and music at Brown University.
Are the services worth it? Most advisers claim a high success rate in
getting students into first-choice schools, but it's impossible to verify
their data. Anyone can set up shop such counselors' ranks have
doubled, to about 3,000, in the past five years because the field
is unregulated, and practitioners aren't required to have experience
in college admissions or high school counseling. College admissions
officers say such advice makes sense only for students at high schools
that lack adequate guidance counseling. Some applicants "end up with
a whiff of packaging that undercuts their candidacy," says Bruce Poch,
Pomona College's dean of admissions. Many officials also worry that
students are learning to put success above everything else. They point
to Cohen client and Harvard University student Kaavya Viswanathan, who
admitted plagiarizing portions of her novel about a high school student's
obsessive pursuit of Harvard. Cohen had introduced Viswanathan to a
literary agent. "I have a fear that this [sort of counseling] is undermining
people's sincerity," says Tom Parker, dean of admissions at Amherst
College. Parents claim they get their money's worth. Sometimes, they
say, a third party can motivate kids in ways a parent cannot. For example,
Hernandez nixed one of Ben's son's summer camp plans. "She said: 'You've
got to broaden your horizons,"' Ben recalls. The teen enrolled in a
physics program at a university instead. "You never know whether you
really need a counselor," he says. "All you know is you gave it your
best shot.

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