This is the week when it almost—almost—ends. April 1 is the date by which colleges and universities have customarily notified applicants whether they've been accepted to next year's freshman class. Applicants then have until May 1 to decide to accept the offer. It can be a disorienting change, for both the lucky students and their soon-to-be-impoverished parents.
Soon the notes will arrive, if they haven't already, from deans entreating your son or daughter to come spend the night on campus, loaf in the student union, and dine for free in the food court that has replaced what primitive peoples once called the "cafeteria." Cell phones will chirp with calls from even chirpier alumni telling tales of uplift and achievement. Some applicants will receive unexpectedly generous packages of financial aid. Such attention! It's as if the haughty and remote Beatrice suddenly turned to the panting Dante and started unbuttoning his shirt.
The highlight of this wooing, or so the schools hope, is "Accepted Students' Day." My own experience from a few years back was, from what I can tell, typical. Our big state university—BSU, as I came to think of it—invited our just-accepted son to bring his parents for a special program over an April weekend.
Whole thing here.
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