Admissions Offer Day

The letter goes on to share that the princely sum of “One Hundred Dollars” (fully refundable at the end of my studies ten years later) would secure a spot in the school for me.

 

For reasons I can’t recall, my father wasn’t at work on the day that letter arrived at our house. He was waiting outside Sunnylea Junior School when I walked out at the end of the day, something I don’t recall ever happening before or since, and we walked home together. He shared the news that I would be attending a new school in the fall.

 

I guess when we’re eight years old we don’t grasp the transformational moments of life in real-time as they’re happening.

 

Last Friday, a version of this same drama played out in homes all over the city and, indeed, around the world. By mutual agreement, the last Friday in February is the common offer day for many independent schools in the GTA. Needless to say, the day has its own social media hashtag: #notificationday.

 

While the numbers fluctuate grade-by-grade, RSGC had about 4 applicants for each available spot at the College next year. This reflects a remarkably high retention rate for current students, and our relatively small graduating class. Our admissions process is individualized and personalized, and embraces the fact that children are the sum of all of their abilities. We know we are building communities through admissions and we do not simply accept applicants with the best report cards or the highest marks on the Admissions test. Each student is considered for who he is, who he may become and how he may contribute. The lens of diversity, in all its forms, is also central in our decision making. I have heard my colleagues, in their deliberation of potential students, think aloud about who our prospective students might be friends with in the current class. The RSGC ethos of “known and loved” is as much a hallmark of admissions as it is, I hope, in the day-to-day of all of our current students.

 

Behind every successful applicant to the school is a member of our Admissions Team, who in  meetings with colleagues, declares, “We want this kid here!”

 

At both Junior and Senior assemblies last week, I reminded our boys that receiving a “yes” letter from the Admissions Office is something that we all share. I am both a past and current parent at the College and, like all of you, I’ve also known the experience of opening, with slightly anxious hands, the envelope or the email from our Admissions Office. At RSGC, we also know that not every pathway is the same. Some of our most successful students started their journey on the wait list, started in non-traditional entry years or came to us slightly off-schedule from our usual admissions timetable. I often think these are the students who are really, really meant to be here.

 

For my colleagues on the Admissions team, the people who spend countless hours reviewing the applications, letters of reference, report cards, entrance exam results and interview notes, the process is gruelling. They are empathetic educators and recognize that all students would benefit from the education and experience RSGC provides. I know from my conversations with the team last Friday that the natural excitement of the day was, as well, a little overshadowed by the disappointment of so many amazing kids who did not get good news from us on offer day. It is heartbreaking. The students getting the “not yet” or “no” communication are as much on our minds as the kids we can’t wait to have join us.

 

I asked my mum once why she kept that letter from March 26, 1976—why she put it away safely, never knowing, of course, it would years later hang on my office door at RSGC! She told me it meant something to her, and was kept among a small collection of really important correspondence. She was proud and happy that I’d been accepted. But the deeper meaning for her, she said, was the sense of promise that she and my father could provide such an experience for their son.

As I’ve shared before, my parents are not Torontonians and they are not “private school people.” What they recognized was something that might be a better path for me. While I certainly had no idea of what lay ahead on that late-March walk home with my Dad those many years ago, I’ve certainly come to understand that the gift of this school was the best gift they could ever give me and, ultimately, it’s become a multi-generational gift in my family.

 

I hope you also look back on your offer day as the start of a transformational journey for your son.