Four years ago I sat down in my living room with a middle-aged woman who upon first impressions seemed kind and respectful. It was my Yale entrance interview. Palms sweaty and nerves high, I plodded through the first 25 minutes before she stopped me and said, “You’re not being very articulate, you know.” Needless to say, I didn’t get in. I’m not telling this anecdote just to humiliate myself. Rather, the comment serves to display the contrast between the student-university relationship in America and Canada-and the differences in what each side of the relationship expects from the other.
Differences can be seen almost immediately as the relationship is formed. The American entrance process has 17-year-olds shaking in their boots for the better part of a year. It is cause for momentous celebration when in late December the last of the “Submit” buttons are clicked. The litany of requirements for just one application can amount to three to five essays, an interview, recommendations from teachers, and letters from guidance counselors (on top of the SATs, SAT IIs, ACTs, and APs).
Not so for McGill. Yes, the test scores are needed, but that was about it. If your GPA is good, welcome! And yet, the calibre of students at McGill is as high or higher than any American school, and McGill continues to produce some of the finest minds in North America. This, then, begs the question, how arbitrary is the rigorous dog and pony show that has become American college admissions? And what is McGill doing right in their expectations of young aspiring academics?
The answer to these questions explains my nightmare of an Ivy League interview and highlights the benefits of the unique university-student relationship which McGill has created. The McGill model assumes the student is an untapped reserve. Their admissions process is an instigation of this model, a beckoning which is underpinned by the presumption that academic aspiration is brimming from every pore. A sense of responsibility is instilled in the creation of this relationship, which is not incumbent upon the doctored presentation of a jaw-dropping second coming of Christ, nor is it decided through a nervous hour of chit-chat. Rather, the gumption behind such a student is assumed, placing full control and responsibility into the hands of the student once admitted.
Of course, there is nothing wrong with being thorough. American universities are the best in the world because of nit-picking. However, instilling responsibility and being given a token of trust, as McGill does, goes a lot further than telling an aspiring academic that life is about a never-ending demonstration of perfection, a beauty pageant from which we cannot run. It is this kind of attitude which breads pressure and anxiety-and which prompted 20 Long Island students to pay others to take their SATs for them, effectively ending their academic credibility before it got off the ground.
Despite what it looks like, this isn’t retribution for the smug interviewer’s comments. Rather, this column should serve to remind us all of the unique power bestowed upon us by McGill, where we’re treated as masters of our own destiny. There is an unprecedented amount of animosity toward the administration right now; as well-placed as such criticism may be, let’s not allow it to subsume the bigger picture. Of all places, we’re lucky to be here.
