Dear Admissions Director (Part 1)

Dear Admissions Director,

While accepting the athletically gifted, brainiacs, music virtuosos, and super rich families, would it be possible to carve out a separate category for my son: nice, normal kid who sometimes slacks because he understands the value of down time (better than his mom), doesn't rush (because what's the rush?), laughs lots, and tells good stories (only to the ones who will enjoy it). 

A newly created subcategory underneath the new normal category could be goofy kid, foodie for all things rice, snob to all things vegetable, master artist of stick figures, and expert antagonizer-illusionist (draws circles with his finger an inch away from you chanting "I'm not touching you. I'm not touching you." (His sisters could explain the effectiveness of this trick.))

Please take into consideration the fact that the first 7 years of his life really were not for measuring achievements, but just for mastering becoming a human such as walking erect and upright. This was a challenge since we have 12 people in our extended family. His feet never had to touch the ground for almost the first two years since there was always someone who wanted to hold him.

While we admittedly slacked on the motor skills, manners are very important! We’ve been drilling and drilling basic manners into his head. It’s not because he is a slow learner; it’s just that he is a boy. I’m waiting for some assistants on this, and, until he starts liking girls who like boys with manners, I’m on my own in this battle.

Our scholastic achievements have been more mundane such as learning the alphabet and reading to compliment counting and basic math while trying to make all that homework land in his backpack instead of the floor to return to school. 

Our performance venues have been amateur instead of professional. Read: The playground. This place taught him to play nicely with others, share, and wait your turn. The playground created space to practice dreaming of being someone different like a super hero, a dinosaur, or a fire truck. You could even be all three rolled into one. I’m not sure metaphysically how that works - you’d have to ask my kid because he still knows. 

In summary, I know there are only a few spots that are available and it seems like you have to be willing to donate several major organs and a 100 acres of land to get them. Thus, schools liking families with incomes the size of a small country’s GDP. And, thus, the motivation to be a prodigy, if you don’t have the bank roll, and begin a career To-Do lists in utero:

Algebra at 6 months fetal stage - x
Birth – x x x
Solo tuba performance at Carnegie Hall by age 4 - x
Nobel Peace prize by age 10 - x

So when you have to measure my normal kid against the prodigies and the echelons of privileged, I’m just gonna think out of the checked boxes and throw out a category called: Normal and Nice.

Just a thought.

Wishing you well and never having to experience this,
Parent of applicant