Silly Questions

Growing up my mother was famous for saying, “ask a silly question; get a silly answer.”  I now know that “silly” was her euphemism for “stupid” and this was in direct contrast to others telling me “there are no stupid questions.”  (Just for the record, my growing up was full of stupid questions.)

As an educator, I now have a keen appreciation for the importance of questions.  Not only do good questions from prospective students help them better understand the nuances of a community – get those questions ready before you visit campus – but also good questions on the part of the admissions committee yield a far more interesting college application.

In my last post, I mentioned the supplement and I won’t leave that topic….yet.

One question I was initially hesitant about was the very first one of the supplement:

• 1.  There is a Quaker saying: “Let your life speak.” Describe the environment in which you were raised—your family, home, neighborhood, or community—and how it influenced the person you are today.

Frankly, it seemed a question ripe for trite answers.  After reading ED applications, however, I’ll admit that I was impressed at how artfully this question was answered by applicants.  I was surprised that students so often acknowledge the parental influence on their lives.  And I was also touched how their two hundred words kept circling in my brain, long after I had read their application. During my commute, while on a run, or as I was falling asleep, their responses had me thinking about successful parenting.

For example, I kept thinking about the student who appreciated the fact that his parents told him they were giving him “a long leash.”  In contrast, another prospective Tufts student wrote, “I wandered as far as I could on my short leash.” A silly question: what’s with all the leash talk?  Are current high school seniors representative of the child leash generation?

Another applicant had me laughing when he admitted that growing up, whenever he told his mother she was mean, she always had the same response: “Thank You.”  He ended with “If I ever become a father, I hope I am every bit as ‘mean’ as my mother was to me, so that I can trust my children to be as responsible as my mother trusts me to be.”

Is there a magic formula for good parenting?  I’ll leave that question to Tufts’ world-renowned Eliot-Pearson Department of Child Development.  But if you ask the ED applicants, many will credit their academic success to their parents’ insistence on setting appropriate limits. These included mandating piano practice, emphasizing storytelling, turning off and/or banning the television and video games, and insisting on the importance of nightly family dinner.

I read what seemed like countless paragraphs from students describing how they were just the right blend of their parents’ very different qualities. It seems there is a lot of opposites attracting out there, and clearly – as my colleague Becky has suggested – this question has taught the admission committee how a Punnett square works – for better or worse.

Maybe because I am a parent now, often struggling to find the right approach to helping my kids develop into happy, appreciative, and thoughtful individuals, these responses resonated with me.  No matter the reason, I’m convinced that the admissions office is asking good questions and that the quality of responses indicates that Tufts is getting the best applicants to apply (if it were only easier to choose from so many fine students!).

Most importantly, I’m also convinced my mother was right.

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