Joie’s Newsletter #8
The Only Metric That Matters
Every spring, I am reminded of the only number that truly matters. Not an SAT score or a college ranking, but the number of students we worked with who cross that finish line knowing who they are and why they got there.
This year, we had more seniors than ever, and 97 percent of them were admitted to one of their top three choices. The outcomes are exceptional because they reflect years of thoughtful work, discipline, and intentionality.
But while I am deeply proud of our team and the results they consistently deliver, what stays with me are the moments in between the beginning and the end of our engagement: the student who came in trying to be everything and, over time, learned how to choose what was meaningful; the one who arrived with a resume full of activities and left with a point of view, or even just more thoughtful questions; the one who, somewhere along the way, realized that the goal was never simply to get in, but to be able to contribute. That is what actually changes outcomes.
We are living through a moment where it has never been easier to produce the appearance of excellence. A polished essay can be generated in seconds, an activity list can be engineered to look perfect on paper, and the edges of a student’s story can be endlessly smoothed over. And yet, colleges are getting very good at recognizing and quietly passing on those applicants because surface-level perfection is no longer distinctive. And nothing about it feels inspiring.
The students who stand out now are not the ones who do more, but the ones who have the discipline to decide what matters and the courage to go deep. They are willing to let some things fall away to build something that is specific, grounded in meaning, and entirely their own. Their applications do not read like a list of accomplishments so much as the beginning of a life that is already in motion. These are students who are asking better questions instead of rushing to present polished answers and who are finding purpose rather than simply crossing things off a list.
I often think about one student who came to us with a three-page resume by the end of 9th grade. On paper, it looked impressive; in reality, it was diffuse. We asked her to choose one, not the most strategic option, but the one she could not stop thinking about. She spent the next few years building something around it that she had never imagined, and by the time she applied, she was lobbying legislators and actually changing local laws. That is what got her in, not because it checked a box, but because it was real, and it had an impact.
This is the work we do. Not packaging or polishing, but real development. Before a single word of an application is written, our students have already done something real, built something real, and pursued what matters with a level of depth that many adults never reach. When they apply, there is nothing to manufacture; the application simply reveals what already exists.
That is why the results look the way they do. Our students are able to choose where they go to college not because we managed their expectations and not because they did more, but because they pursued something with intention instead of just effort. They built something and demonstrated a way of thinking that values depth over noise.
The greatest service we offer is not access, but the ability to step out of performative busyness and into work that is more deliberate and transformative, the kind that cannot be rushed or mimicked and that, over time, becomes impressive.
We did not guide students to success by teaching them how to navigate a broken system; we helped all of them become young adults who are ready for what comes next. And in the end, that is the only thing that matters.
If any of this resonates and you have a young person in your life that you care about, I would love to hear about them. Just hit reply.
Education expert, founder, author of “B+ Grades, A+ College Application.”
