My Notes from a Conversation with Admissions Officers

This was unanimous. They read so many essays that AI writing jumps out at them: too stiff, too formal, "detached from being human," giving an "ick." They felt they didn't need to use AI detectors because of how obvious it is when someone has used AI to write their essay. Gray noted that in Tampa each essay gets read by 8–9 people, so it gets caught. They also pointed out this isn't a new problem: copied and templated essays were a thing long before AI.

You don't have to dig up the hardest thing that ever happened to you. As Kristof put it, if you've had a hard life and want to write about surviving it, that's great. They would love to hear about that. But if your life has been pretty good, that's not inherently a problem. It's completely fine to write about something simple and meaningful to you. One of her favorite essays was simply about a student who read 91 books in 8 months, no trauma or hardship involved.

Don't try to cram 18 years into 650 words. Hawker said the trap is trying to tell them everything instead of answering, "what's the one thing you want me to know about you?" Horowitz's version: weak essays summarize an experience ("I hiked, I kayaked, I camped, I loved every minute"). Strong ones zoom way in on a specific thing: what did you see, hear, feel, and learn from one specific moment ("I inflated the kayak and set off on an adventure that in hindsight was beyond my skill level. Perhaps trying to face my fear of the unknown in this way was more risky than I realized…").

Sports injuries are far more common than students realize. Or stories about building legos or computers when applying to an engineering program (Horowitz said Olin gets flooded with Lego and robotics essays). This doesn't mean you can't write about injuries, legos, or robotics. But it does mean you need a take on it that's unique to you and couldn't have been written by anyone else.

Hawker's example: one of his favorite essays was from a student who wrote about family game nights (Monopoly) and it landed beautifully because of what it revealed about them. Gray's: a student wrote about traveling out of state for the first time and tied each stop to what excited them about college. Small, specific, and real beats big and cliche.

Creative risks only work when they're natural. Horowitz's favorite opening line: "Confession: I'm a serial killer." Startling, but it unfolded into a real story about a passion for problem-solving and growing into a leader. Gray's counterpoint: if you're not the class clown, don't try to be funny in your essay. They can tell when you're performing in a way that's inauthentic. Trust your instincts. If you feel proud about what you've written, that's a good thing. If you feel a bit "ick" about it afterwards, that's a sign that maybe you haven't written something authentic.

Don't repeat your personal statement, and don't feel like you have to reinvent the wheel either. It's fine to go deeper on something already in your application. But the supplemental should add new information. Just follow the prompt as written. Hawker's phrase was that students keep trying to jam a triangle into a square peg. Reading a school's own language and values can help you find a real story of yours that actually fits what their admissions priorities are.