His eyes skimmed a UCLA letter that was three paragraphs long, but the length didn’t matter.
One simple word explained it all ““ rejected.
Nonetheless, this particular recipient knew the letter’s contents even before he opened the envelope. In fact, he knew it even before he applied.
I mean, come on folks, what were his chances anyway? He had no extraordinary story of “trials and tribulations,” his SAT scores weren’t perfect ““ since his skin color is white, it didn’t set him apart. His application was probably discarded before anyone read his essay.
But who actually knows except for the application readers who flicked their wrists and forever altered someone else’s future?
More so, who actually knows the true motivations behind the reincarnation of the oh-so-fair holistic application process?
After a long brainstorming session in my cramped L.A. studio, a few genuine thoughts came to mind: Holistic admissions are supposed to increase the ethnic diversity on campus, to give people who have had particularly unique situations an equal opportunity to compete in this suffocating system of public education, and to show the world that UCLA is a place for the well-rounded student.
As my logic wandered down this path, I began to wonder: How do the objective questions of the UC application act as the means to these goals?
Truthfully, my pondering was galvanized by something sinister that pierced my steadfast Bruin zeal: The recipient of that letter was my little brother.
Every part of my body bled blue and gold when I heard the news. Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad if I hadn’t thought his admission was a done deal, but I believe any Bruin would have considered it sealed given his circumstances.
He tested higher than most UCLA applicants on his SATs, he had a 4.0 GPA (including four AP science and math classes), he played water polo and was on the swim team, and (not to be omitted), he is the brother of a dedicated Bruin.
However, I forgot the most important point: My little brother is the most culturally aware person I know. He lived in Australia for four years, Indonesia for three years, and Japan for a semester.
After this depressing train of thought, I realized what the UC application fails to quantify: the difference between skin color and diversity.
Checking the diversity box as “experienced in different ethnic groups for more than seven years” should distinguish someone.
I don’t know what to say to my brother to make things right: Better luck next time on your perfect application? It’s okay, you’re not what they wanted?
Actually I know what I should say: UCLA botched it. If you’re not Bruin material, then I don’t know what is.
Herkenhoff is a third-year business economics student.