COMMITTEE MAKES MOMENTOUS DECISIONS

In a narrow brownstone building on a hill overlooking the Connecticut River, nine people are facing a dilemma worthy of King Solomon.

They are studying the records of two high school students with similar grades and test scores who want to attend Wesleyan University, one of the country’s most prestigious small, liberal arts colleges. But one, a leader outside the classroom, is clearly the stronger candidate.

One more thing — they are twins.

The nine members of the Wesleyan admissions committee debated the right thing to do. Had one twin always been in the other’s shadow? Would admitting one forever brand the other as second-best?

For committee member Clifford T. Thornton, the case of the twins was a reminder of the responsibility they hold, of their power to change people’s lives.

Getting into Wesleyan or getting rejected could determine a student’s eventual career, his circle of friends, where he might meet a future spouse or even what kind of person he would become. Sometimes, as with the twins, admissions officers have to look beyond mere numbers and rankings to less tangible factors.

“You know that in some cases you actually will alter the course of that family tree,” said Thornton, an associate dean of admissions at Wesleyan. “Those are the cases that stay with you.”

In a scene repeated at hundreds of colleges around the country this month, Wesleyan’s admissions committee spent 12 grueling days debating 1,300 of their most difficult cases. The university agreed to let The Courant sit in on the committee’s secret deliberations on the condition that details that could identify the students would not be published.

A million and a half U.S. high school seniors will hear this spring which colleges have accepted them. Most of the 4,789 people who applied to Wesleyan this year will learn their fate when decision letters are mailed this week. At many schools, two thirds

of applicants get in. At selective colleges such as Wesleyan, the figure hovers between 30 percent and 40 percent.

Though the admissions process varies from college to college, it comes down to a group of strangers making fairly subjective, but momentous, decisions.

Seated around a cluttered conference table, Wesleyan’s admissions deans weigh what you might expect: Scholastic Aptitude Test scores, class rank, high school grades and extracurricular activities.

But they also consider a family’s race and background, where they live, and how much Wesleyan would like to attract students from their high school.

Being a black student or a great athlete helps. Being student council president or writing a revealing essay helps. Being from Iowa or another under-represented part of the country helps. So does having a grandfather who went to Wesleyan or being the first in your family to try to attend college.

But in case after case, the admissions committee returns to academics.

“The most important thing to us is always a student’s overall academic record and their commitment to learning,” said Angelique R. Arrington, 29, an associate dean of admissions and a 1984 Wesleyan graduate.

Their own standards get in the way sometimes, said Andrew H. Fairbanks, who at 23 is the youngest member of the committee. He said the child of a prominent politician was not admitted this month despite the prestige that it might have brought the school.

“Sometimes we have too much integrity,” he said.

When applications first come in, they are most often read by two admissions deans who look at essays, teacher recommendations, grades and test scores. This year, the deans immediately admitted 1,240 clear-cut cases, including 50 sought-after athletes. Another 1,045 were rejected or placed on the waiting list in the first wave. The remainder were withdrawn, decided on later or sent to the committee.

About 30 students will likely be admitted from the waiting list this spring if Wesleyan needs to round out its class. The figure could rise to more than 50 if many students decline Wesleyan’s offer.

On this frigid mid-March morning, “committee,” as the secretive process is known, starts with the deans scurrying to take their seats in a bland but comfortable conference room. A table and shelves are stacked with dog-eared high school transcripts, and curtains are pulled tight across the door’s windows.

The room’s only distraction comes from the old playbills and posters hanging on the cream-colored walls. Touting Japanese art, Indian dance and West African music, they scream the message that Wesleyan is “the diversity university.”

At the head of the table is Barbara-Jan Wilson, dean of admissions and financial aid, an enthusiastic 39-year-old who talks at the speed of an auctioneer. Today, she will breeze through 110 cases, letting debate range free until she reins it in with her frequent injunction: “Well, the case has been laid out. Let’s vote.” The deans throw up their hands to vote on each applicant. Case closed. Fate decided.

Though the students’ records have been studied for weeks, most committee decisions are made in less than two minutes. The

trickiest cases may be agonized over for five or six minutes.

The case of the twins — one of nine sets applying this year — elicits a groan from one committee member. Thornton leads the debate, arguing that the twins must be treated equally.

“I think we should take both,” he says. “I don’t think we should play Solomon.”

Thornton’s plea for consistency prevails. Both are placed on the waiting list.

Then there is the student we’ll call Rural New Englander.

Taking the lead in the case is the committee veteran, associate dean Gregory A. Pyke, a sturdy 45-year-old Midwesterner with the deep voice and demeanor of a stern high school principal. Though he’s heard it all in 15 years on the committee, the job stays fresh for him.

“Every time you open one of those manila folders, you may be discovering the next Albert Einstein, or the next star of stage and screen or the next president,” he says.

The case of Rural New Englander is perplexing. With SAT scores below Wesleyan’s incoming freshman average of about 1,300, and so-so achievement tests, the committee wonders whether she received so many A’s because her high school was not very tough.

Students from prestigious high schools clearly have an advantage because of the range of honors courses available to them. A rigorous academic program impresses the admissions deans, who travel around the country recruiting at high schools.

“We tend to compensate for the absence of a good program, but we do look for students who have stretched academically,” Pyke says.

That’s important at Wesleyan, where students have a great deal of independence in choosing their curriculum.

Pyke says students at small schools can help themselves by taking the best courses available to them, by reading heavily outside of school and by taking college courses where possible.

All students can also boost their chances by writing essays that reveal their personalities, the deans say. But not too revealing. Wilson said a past applicant didn’t help his chances when he wrote about his drug and psychological problems.

Teacher recommendations, too, can sway the admissions officers if they are personalized without being too long, Wilson said. Some schools hurt students’ chances when they send form letters, she said.

Rural New Englander’s teachers wrote that she had done her best, but it wasn’t quite enough to satisfy Pyke.

“She may be educationally disadvantaged, [but] this is one case where the achievement tests undercut her performance in high school too much,” he says.

Rejected, 1 to 8.

Throughout the day, assistant dean of admissions Andy Fairbanks fidgets. He flips his tie over his neck. He sits up on the top of his chair. At one point, he nearly falls out of the chair while reaching for a bagel on the side table.

A 1990 graduate of Wesleyan and son of a University of Connecticut professor, Fairbanks is in his first full-time job, and he is anxious to have his opinion heard.

Especially in the case of Eagle Scout, an overachiever known for his long list of extracurricular activities. He has what the deans call “stretch,” the ability to go beyond what is expected of him.

Yet, Fairbanks insists, “The academic picture is subpar.”

Ann L. Baker, the only committee member who has done admissions work at other colleges, counters: “He does sound like a go-getter. Being an Eagle Scout takes a lot of endurance.” Associate dean Terri Overton, a 33-year-old former Peace Corps volunteer, wants to admit Eagle Scout. His combined SAT scores were more than 1200 and he garnered many A’s at a tough high school, she says: “The academic case is not weak.”

Baker runs her hand through her blond hair and says: “He’s not a brilliant guy, but he will go far. This is a person case.”

Fairbanks sighs. “OK, I think you swayed me.”

The hands go up. Admitted, 7 to 2.

A lack of extracurricular activities won’t keep shy students out of Wesleyan, committee members say. With so much leeway, the deans occasionally admit academic stars they know will make few contributions outside the classroom.

The case of a studious inner-city woman propels Thornton, a thin man with a goatee and a high-pitched voice, forward in his chair. Overton had questioned why the woman, a Latino, had done little outside the classroom. Thornton, the coordinator of minority recruitment, reminds the deans of the dangerous world in which the woman lives.

“Some parents are concerned about the safety of their children and don’t let them participate after school,” Thornton said. “When the sun sets, you don’t want to be there.”

His argument is convincing; City Girl gets in, 9-0.

The touchiest issue the deans will deal with today is race. Last fall, Wesleyan’s freshman class, with 30 percent minority students, was the envy of other colleges. But the committee members insist they do not drop their standards when admitting minority students. Instead, they say they look at SAT scores, achievement test results and grades in the context of the student’s environment.

Wilson is blunt.

“With black males, we try really hard to take them because Wesleyan needs them, and society needs them,” she said.

For that reason, black males are rarely debated in the committee. Most have already been admitted or rejected.

But two hours after turning down a white student who had several C’s, the committee weighs the case of a black male who had one F and one C in his freshman year while struggling with a family problem.

The debate is swift; Thornton argues that One F was a leader outside the classroom, had worked hard and had been able to turn his grades around.

Admitted, 9 to 0.

Later, Thornton, one of two blacks on the committee, explained why he wanted to give One F a chance to succeed at Wesleyan.

“I usually deal with kids [from] groups that have historically been denied access to a place like Wesleyan,” he said. “For them to come here represents a major step up a steep incline.”

Students who haven’t distinguished themselves will not get into Wesleyan, no matter their color, Thornton said. “We reward distinction. Not novelty or eccentricity, but distinction,” he said.

This year, a student’s ability to pay Wesleyan’s $22,980 annual price tag has not been considered in the admissions decision. But many on campus have been concerned that President William M. Chace’s proposal to end purely “need-blind” admissions next year

would hurt minority students. A group of students and faculty is studying other ways to control financial aid costs so that ability to pay will not become a criterion when picking students from the waiting list, as Chace has proposed.

A major challenge for admissions directors in coming years will be deciding how to weigh shifts within minority groups, Thornton said. More blacks are becoming part of the middle class and may not have the disadvantaged backgrounds frequently given weight in admissions decisions, he said.

The differences within minority groups are apparent in the case of Quiet Woman, an applicant of Japanese descent. Pyke argues for admitting the woman on academic grounds, despite her shyness, because Japanese are underrepresented within the pool of Asian applicants.

“We have an opportunity here to add a real Japanese person to the school,” he says. “She won’t make much noise, but we’ve admitted plenty of people today with the potential to make noise.”

He sways the group. Admitted, 8 to 1.

Students with compelling life stories are tough to vote down because of the qualities they add to campus, the deans say.

Baker, a 36-year-old hard-liner when it comes to academics, will also argue frequently in favor of a student whose life has been astonishing. It is those life stories that have kept her in admissions work for 12 years. “It’s like peering in through a family’s windows and seeing some really remarkable people,” she says. “There’s so much hope.”

One such case is Shy Refugee, an Asian woman who had to flee a country in turmoil after her family was threatened with violence. Though concerned about her relatively low grades and SAT scores, the committee is impressed with her character and the adversity she had overcome.

“Academically she seems more like a wait list,” Wilson says.

But Jennifer S. Gill, a 25-year-old assistant dean with a master’s degree from Columbia University, likes what she sees.

“She would really add to the campus because of her international background,” Gill says.

Thus swayed, they vote 7 to 2 to admit her.

As the day winds on, the air hangs heavy in the room. With 80 cases behind them, Arrington massages her neck and checks the clock. By day’s end, Fairbanks has gnawed the round end of his blue pen into a pinched oval.

He can’t stop agonizing over one rejected candidate who had badly wanted to come to Wesleyan.

“I hate these ones,” he says. “It’s heartless, but do you admit her just because she wants it so badly?”

Sitting next to him, Overton says, “You [can’t] think of all of them as people.”

From her end of the table, Wilson says quietly, “They’re all people.”

When the committee lingers too long over one undistinguished applicant, Rosa M. Garcia, an assistant dean and Wesleyan graduate, snaps, “I think he’s terrible. Can’t we just let him go?”

Rejected, 9 to 0.

Finally, committee is done. It’s time to inform students who has been admitted and who hasn’t. In the end, Wesleyan accepted 1,797 applicants, or 37.5 percent of the pool.

The rest are about equally divided between rejections and

placements on the waiting list. Those most likely to be picked from the long list are those who won the most votes for admittance in the committee, or who balance the diversity of the class.

The freshman class is taking shape. Fifty-two percent of those admitted are women. Their median mathematics SAT score is 680, and their median verbal score is 640. Sixty-two percent are white. Another 13.5 percent are Asian, 13 percent are black, 8 percent are Latino, and 0.2 percent are Native American.

But all the numbers could change dramatically if Wesleyan loses many students to other colleges.

The deans have picked whom they want. Now they must worry about who will agree to come.

“We are quickly humbled in this job,” Thornton says. “Whatever power we have, we lose instantly each April, the minute we mail out that letter. Then it’s the students who hold the power.