So Where Do I Fit In This Picture?

When I began my formal college counseling coursework, I thought I would seek employment in a school or organization where I could work with students who need help and guidance with their post-secondary school planning. The other possible career path for a college counselor is to become an independent counselor, a private consultant hired by families to assist them through the college selection and application process.

I'm excited for students making college plans. My inclination toward working in a school came largely from my desire to help students who are unfamiliar with or intimidated by the application process, students who might not be aware of all the ways to plan and pay for education beyond high school, kids who might not know what a college education has to offer them.

My very best friends are elementary school teachers in an urban public school. They are professionals committed to helping their students find their wings through education. They deal with bureaucracy, mediocre facilities, ornery and capricious administrators, co-workers who are not as caring, talented or dedicated as they are. For all the aggravation, their faces never fail to light up when they have a breakthrough with a challenging student. How could I not be inspired by their example?

And then reality began to eat away at the edges of my altruism. I have been volunteering in the college counseling office at the local public high school. There are five academic counselors and one college counselor for a student body of 3500; one of the academic counselors serves the 300 student magnet program, which leaves four academic counselors for the remaining 3200 students and one college counselor for the entire student body. The dropout rate for the school is over forty percent. Certainly this is a group which needs no end of inspiration to graduate from high school and seek further educational opportunities.

I walk through the industrial grey hallways of the school, which by their drabness shout "no" and "go stand in line." The college counselor, working with a group of committed seniors in a peer-to-peer program, does a lot with the limited resources and time she has. And I mean really limited time, since she is also responsible for the administration of the PSAT to a thousand kids in the fall and AP tests in the spring. I've only witnessed the fall PSAT, which involved some of the most absurd, convoluted school district required accounting and scheduling issues imaginable. Watching her work is a bit like watching a short order cook, juggling student peer counselor queries, doling out testing fee waivers, planning a field trip to a local nursing school, and answering random student questions all while speaking politely to a temporary administrator sent by the district office because they apparently think the school needs more administration. The idea that she could actually sit down, interview a student about their academic interests and career plans, review their transcript, talk about test scores, devise a list of potential schools, discuss recommendations and essays, and point out scholarship opportunities is laughable. For her to spend five uninterrupted minutes with a student is unusual.

Slowly, the idea of being an independent counselor has seemed more appealing. It's uncomfortable to feel like I'm giving up on the really needy before I've even started, but would I really have a chance to do what I want to do, or would I be buried by the stuff? I might actually be more fulfilled selling out, working for families who already know the value of a college education and are willing to pay for someone to help them successfully navigate the process.

Yesterday I met a local independent counselor who was incredibly generous with her time, responding to my cold call with an offer to talk, educate and explain her business philosophy to me. She served me lemonade, showed me her office, gave me a wealth of information and asked for nothing in return. She does the same for students who cannot afford her fees. Perhaps there was a lesson in that for me, about the simple joy of making a difference in the life and educational path of someone who asks for help.