My city is on fire. I'm finding it hard to focus on college or, well, anything else.

I am living in a city that is on fire. 

Applying to college and taking the ACT test seems very distant to me, even though I believe in education and I love what I do. I am finding it hard to focus on the future when the now seems so important.

When I went to a protest at the corner of 38th and Nicollet, near the intersection where George Floyd was murdered by four of our city’s men in blue, the buildings were still smoldering. People were sweeping up glass and giving out water and chanting peacefully.

The National Guard was present at the protests that my daughter Hannah and I attended at the state capitol. I left the protest at the capitol before Hannah did. Hannah was among those who walked onto Interstate 94. I am both proud and very glad that I didn’t know about it until it was all over. My friend’s 13-year-old daughter was on the freeway, too.

The strength of the response to George Floyd’s death was a long time coming. I was wondering when it would happen. I guess the video of George Floyd’s murder, the COVID-19 pandemic, unemployment, and years of trying to drown government services in a bathtub have led us here this summer. 

May we finally get the change we all deserve: our schools are underfunded, police violence goes unpunished, our social services are underfunded, and going to college requires parents and students to go into enormous debt. All of this is being driven by stagnant wages and corporate robber barons. 

I am a member of InEquality, a group that works for juvenile justice reform: https://oyatehotanin.org/in-equality/. I have been aware of police brutality against people of color since I was an AVID tutor in the St. Paul Public Schools (https://www.avid.org/). My teenage students gave me the 411. 

I remember tutoring the day after Trayvon Martin was murdered for “walking while black.” We abandoned Algebra and “The Great Gatsby.” We talked about what had happened to Trayvon and how it could have been any of them. We all knew it was going to happen again.

One African-American student told me about how she was driving in the car with her mom and dad when a St. Paul police officer pulled her father over in front of their house. It was never clear to her why her dad was pulled over. She and her mom had to watch while he was slammed up against his car and handcuffed. He told the officers, “That’s my house. Can I go home? I didn’t do anything. That’s my house. Right there. I own it. Can I just go home?”

My recommendation to young people is to join the revolution. Volunteer. Donate. For a list of places in the Twin Cities, go to https://www.thecurrent.org/.

We can talk about college, too, but I want college to be affordable and for public schools to no longer accept scarcity as acceptable. How is one guidance counselor for four hundred students acceptable? It is not. 

Enough. 

Revolution. 

Reform.

Surge Capacity and Ambiguous Loss in the Age of COVID

What can we do to make the lives of our pandemically stressed-out high school juniors and seniors easier? It would be great if every college went test-optional forever. We can cancel test-crazy culture by not caring about test scores anymore. 

The ACT test does not rate your child as a person or as a potential college student. It doesn’t.

An ACT score reflects how well your child takes standardized tests, how much they studied for the ACT, and whether English is their first language. 

Suggest your high school student do the following:

• Take the ACT test once, don’t study for it, and be done with it.

• If you get a 29 on the ACT, good for you. If you get a 17, whatever.

• Use the test score when you apply to colleges if you want to—or not.

Early in the pandemic, I had a college advising client who opened my eyes. I asked her if she had taken any standardized tests or was planning on taking any. She said, “No.” I asked her if she wanted to think about it or take one to see how she did. She said, “No.” I was nervous. She was adamant.

She applied only to test-optional schools. She got accepted at seven of the eight colleges she applied to. She is a serious soccer player, takes PSEO college classes and AP classes, participates in her high school theater program, her college essay was fabulous, and she has a 3.8 GPA. In other words, her record is strong enough that if a college can’t decide she is a good candidate for admissions without an ACT score, she didn’t want to bother with them. Good for her. 

She showed me the way.

I can think of one good use of standardized tests for students: to help make a case for admission despite a less-than-stellar GPA. For example, when I worked in Admissions for the Minneapolis College of Art and Design we would occasionally have an applicant with a low GPA, but a high ACT score. Rather than simply rejecting the student outright, we would talk with the student, look at their portfolio, and read their essay and their letter of recommendation. That way, we could get a complete picture of the student. Often, the student just really didn’t like high school but was motivated to make art. In those cases, the ACT test wasn’t the main deciding factor, but it did reassure us that the student had the academic skills, like reading comprehension, they’d need to succeed in college. 

Test-optional. It’s the way to go now. 

My dream for the future? No testing at all. I would like us to take the millions we spend on testing and put that money towards counseling and planning for all high school students. The kind of counseling that I provide when parents pay me should be available for free to ALL students. I want to see us provide the type of counseling that supports kids, sees kids for who they are, and guides them toward what they love and where they will thrive—whether college, trade school or an apprenticeship—and gives them the financial resources to achieve their goals. 

We can stop the crazy. We can stop caring about standardized test scores.

More joy. Less testing.

What can we do to make the lives of our pandemically stressed-out high school juniors and seniors easier? It would be great if every college went test-optional forever. We can cancel test-crazy culture by not caring about test scores anymore. 

The ACT test does not rate your child as a person or as a potential college student. It doesn’t.

An ACT score reflects how well your child takes standardized tests, how much they studied for the ACT, and whether English is their first language. 

Suggest your high school student do the following:

• Take the ACT test once, don’t study for it, and be done with it.

• If you get a 29 on the ACT, good for you. If you get a 17, whatever.

• Use the test score when you apply to colleges if you want to—or not.

Early in the pandemic, I had a college advising client who opened my eyes. I asked her if she had taken any standardized tests or was planning on taking any. She said, “No.” I asked her if she wanted to think about it or take one to see how she did. She said, “No.” I was nervous. She was adamant.

She applied only to test-optional schools. She got accepted at seven of the eight colleges she applied to. She is a serious soccer player, takes PSEO college classes and AP classes, participates in her high school theater program, her college essay was fabulous, and she has a 3.8 GPA. In other words, her record is strong enough that if a college can’t decide she is a good candidate for admissions without an ACT score, she didn’t want to bother with them. Good for her. 

She showed me the way.

I can think of one good use of standardized tests for students: to help make a case for admission despite a less-than-stellar GPA. For example, when I worked in Admissions for the Minneapolis College of Art and Design we would occasionally have an applicant with a low GPA, but a high ACT score. Rather than simply rejecting the student outright, we would talk with the student, look at their portfolio, and read their essay and their letter of recommendation. That way, we could get a complete picture of the student. Often, the student just really didn’t like high school but was motivated to make art. In those cases, the ACT test wasn’t the main deciding factor, but it did reassure us that the student had the academic skills, like reading comprehension, they’d need to succeed in college. 

Test-optional. It’s the way to go now. 

My dream for the future? No testing at all. I would like us to take the millions we spend on testing and put that money towards counseling and planning for all high school students. The kind of counseling that I provide when parents pay me should be available for free to ALL students. I want to see us provide the type of counseling that supports kids, sees kids for who they are, and guides them toward what they love and where they will thrive—whether college, trade school or an apprenticeship—and gives them the financial resources to achieve their goals. 

We can stop the crazy. We can stop caring about standardized test scores.

Here we go to college...again...I'm a little nervous and I'm hopeful

My husband and I sent our oldest child, Hannah, who is twenty-two, off to college last Tuesday. Again. (Hannah approved this newsletter.) It feels to me like I am sending her off to kindergarten again, thus my choice of photo.

The first time we sent her off to college two years ago, it happened with fanfare and orientation sessions and packing and unpacking and setting up her college apartment. We were all filled with hope.

She lived in her college apartment for a week before returning home and becoming a mass-transit commuter student, although we had to pay for that apartment for the entire semester. After two years, Hannah stopped going to college entirely, defeated and miserable. I was defeated and miserable, too. 

Hannah is on the autism spectrum. I looked for information on the percentage of students with autism who graduate from college, but I couldn’t find any. The only evidence I have is anecdotal, and that evidence--gathered from friends and family who also have autistic young adults--is not very positive. College is a struggle for most kids with autism and with ADD and ADHD.

After wishing her well and watching her drive away to the U of MN, I was a ball of anxiety.

This time around, Hannah is four-years older, has been through day-treatment for depression, and is on medication for anxiety. I am hopeful that this time the outcome will be different, but my stomach still hurts.

I don’t know if, unlike the last time, things will work out this time. Since the time she dropped out of college, my husband and I have done everything we can to help our daughter be successful, but, in the end, we can’t go to college for her. She has to want it enough to overcome the anxiety and stress of doing it. She has to find meaning in it for herself. Hannah wants to be independent and she wants to have a job she enjoys most of the time. Hopefully, that will drive her to keep going to college.

As you might have noticed, I am having a very hard time separating my own anxiety and stress from her anxiety and stress. (I understand that this is my problem, not hers.) I am working on letting her succeed or fail on her own, while I am also making sure she has support from the University of Minnesota’s Disability Office, from therapists and psychiatrists, and from her circle of family and friends.

For the students and parents I work with, “letting go” is the hardest part of the process. As you can tell, I’m still working on it. 

While the parents want their child to succeed, the kid might not be ready for success. Brain development has a lot to do with a young person’s readiness for college. At twenty-two, my daughter’s brain--specifically that all-important frontal lobe which manages executive function (planning and due dates)--is far more developed than it was at eighteen. It will be even more developed by the time she is twenty-five. 

I am very proud of Hannah for coming to this place today and of all the other kids who I have worked with who find it hard to make college work for them. 

Good luck, all of you,

P.S. Mom and Dad, I am thinking of you, too. I really am. 

This blog post was going to be about writing the college essay.

I was going to write about writing the college essay, but I am sitting in the waiting room at Fairview Hospital Behavioral Health Services, and I am having a hard time focusing on the topic of essays. My older daughter, Hannah, who is twenty-two and on the Autism Spectrum, is having her initial assessment for a partial day-treatment program. (I got her approval to write this essay.) She has been feeling suicidal since being fired from a job a few months ago. While she subsequently found a gardening job through a mutual friend -- a job with fabulous, understanding owners -- she then was temporarily laid off, and won’t start back again until late August. Sigh. After this second loss, her depression came back.

Because she was diagnosed with Autism at a very young age, Hannah has seen a therapist since she was in second grade and a psychiatrist since she was in fourth grade. Now I think we need to up our game with her transition to adulthood. I thought her childhood was hard. This phase of parenting is a different level of hard -- less dealing with tantrums over dropped ice cream cones and more wondering whether your kid is spending too much time in their room alone and what to do about it? Like a lot of other parents, we now are going to consult the Ouija board, toss another dart at the dartboard, talk to friends, family, and various professionals, and see what happens. 

The waiting room at Fairview Behavioral Health is an interesting place to be. It is a humbling place to be. Because Hannah is twenty-two, she is being seen in adult behavioral health. Sitting next to me are two “young adults” who I think could use some additional support from a full-fledged adult, but they are by themselves, supporting each other. Sitting next to them are a mom and a dad with a daughter who looks to be my daughter’s age. The daughter tells her parents, half-jokingly, that she “might faint” without something to eat. She “fake faints” and her dad laughs. I laugh, too, and say to her dad, “She isn’t joking.” Her mom consults with someone at the front desk and goes off to find her a sandwich. We all do what we can for our kids. Fetching a sandwich seems doable when you are in the waiting room at Fairview Mental Health.

No matter how hard you plan or how much you think you can control what happens during your children’s journey to adulthood, life throws you curve balls. And that’s okay. It doesn’t always FEEL okay, though. The best thing you can do remember that these challenges happen to most of us. Then reach out to family, friends, colleagues, experts -- anyone who you think you can rely on -- and trust that somehow, you and your kid will get through whatever the most recent obstacle is.  

Best,

Jenna Klein

jenna@kleincollegeadvising.com

P.S. As always, I am here to help provide whatever guidance and support I can. Including helping your teen write that college essay, a topic I’ll get back to in the next newsletter.

I love helping students write their college admissions essays. 

May 1. College Decision Day. Pull the Parachute Cord Day. Or, maybe not...

May 1st

“Pull the Parachute Cord College Decision Day” has come and went.

Where is your kid going to college?

Ok. Hold up.

Maybe your kid isn’t going to college. (Gasp.) Really, that’s okay.

Maybe they are. That’s okay, too.

KNOW THIS: You can only make a decision (about college or anything else) with the information you have at the time! Really. You are making the best decision about your future with the information you have RIGHT NOW. So, if it doesn’t work out, remember, you DO NOT need to beat yourself up about making the wrong choice. If it does work out, HUZZAH! Pat yourself on the back. It worked out and that is to be celebrated!

Maybe you are super excited that your child is going to college and you think it will go really well for them. Maybe you are already concerned that college may not be the best idea for you kid, but, is working at a pizza place and living at home with you a better option?

Maybe you are already planning a gap year with them.

Maybe they were accepted to college out of state, but they are getting cold feet and think maybe they don’t want to leave home after all.

It’s complicated.

Maybe you are still biting your nails waiting for your financial aid award letter. Your kid REALLY wants to go to their first choice college. The first choice college costs A LOT more money than the second choice school. What should you do? How much should you go in debt? How much should they go in debt?

It’s complicated.

To this stress, add in the fact that many students DO NOT graduate from college in four years. In fact, many of them go for a year or two, move home and work, and then either go to a different college or try something else. This is very common.

Do not be surprised if this happens to you. I am working through it with one of my children right now.

While chatting with a friend of mine recently, we reflected on our parent’s version of parenting us when we were graduating from high school.

Here is what we did at eighteen:

• We graduated from high school or we didn’t.

• Either way, we moved out of the house.

• We went to college or we went to work. If we went to work, we could afford a place to live.

• Either way, our parents were pretty much done parenting us.

So, as a parent at this time of year, my heart goes out to you. It really does. And my heart goes out to your high school senior. Making a decision about where to go to college or not to go to college is hard.

The teenage way of dealing with making decisions is often to avoid making decisions. The parent way of dealing with making a decision about post-secondary plans it to ask their child about it--a lot. This makes for happy evenings spent at home--not.

So, if you are exhausted or elated or wondering if your child is actually going to graduate from high school at all at this point, remember, it’s complicated. It really, really is.

Jenna Klein

P.S. As always, if you like what you see in the Klein College Advising and Academic Coaching newsletter, please share it with friends and family. They can join our merry band of baffled parents right here. This parenting thing is done best through commiseration and the support of other non-judgemental adults.

How is an 8th grader like a turtle?

Somewhere between 7th and 9th grade, something happens to some boys (and a few girls)--they start to avoid going to school. They think, in a way that is not quite as developed as this: “Why would I put time and effort into something that makes me feel like a failure at a (sometimes) chaotic place where I don’t feel like I fit in?”

The bodies of these kids absorb the stress of school and it comes out in other ways: school avoidance, panic attacks, depression, being unable to go to sleep, tears, screaming, and fighting--with you. Lucky you. Because you, “Just don’t understand!!!”

Kids think, “Better to just ignore school. If I don’t think about it, it will magically go away.”

I call this approach “turtling.” Pull your head into your shell; bury yourself in your covers, lock your door, grab your iPad, put your earbuds in your ears, and pretend school doesn’t exist. We all “turtle” sometimes. I do it with taxes. (I really shouldn’t wait until April 14th to start my taxes…..)

So, where does this leave us?

It leaves us feeling helpless and alone, but you are NOT alone. You have lots and lots of company. Which doesn’t make your situation any easier, but it does make it very, very human, and unfortunately, very common.

Here are 4 things to do:

1. Find other people to help your child: mentors, favorite aunts and uncles, academic coaches, therapists, psychiatrists, karate teachers, soccer coaches, theater directors, etc. Teenagers need adult mentors to see them for who they are.

2. (Try to) be patient. Time is on your side. Teen brains eventually grow into 25-year-old mature brains.

3. Consider the big picture of why your child is struggling. Are they worried about a struggling sibling, a sick grandparent, or a parent who just lost their job? Anxiety and depression can be addressed through therapy and medication.

4. Consider other options. Schools can be switched. Homeschooling, at least for a time, is an option for some families. The GED is an option. Minnesota alternative schools educate students up until the age of 21. An online school is an option.

It all sounds less than ideal, I know, but fighting with your child every day is so emotionally draining that “Plan B” may be in order--“Plan B” may be the best way to go.

In the case of my oldest child, after years of school avoidance and anxiety and two years of art college, it seems that working on a goat farm outside of Seattle is the answer.

Well, who knew? I didn’t when she was in junior high, that’s for sure.