Notes From the Whistle-Stop Tour
The Germans were poised at the border between Belgium and France. Von Kluck's army would anchor the massive right wing assault designed to envelop the overmatched French troops in the late summer of 1914. The Great War was a puzzled child, but the smell of doom was everywhere. In a moment, the world would disintegrate into madness. Yippee!
I'm reading Barbara Tuchman's The Guns of August in the cheap seats. I gather we're somewhere over Ohio. I have no cookies. They have champagne in First Class.
I am a medical school applicant. Pleased to meet you. My name is Michael. I'm a genius, but I guess you already know that from my file. Lean in a bit closer. I'll tell you a secret. I'm a humanitarian, an altruist. No kidding. I really care about people. I'm swelling with empathy.
In New Orleans, I was asked whether or not I've had a hair transplant. That was my first interview. Though I don't know it yet, I will be asked to define creativity in approximately 24 hours. Right now I'm pretending to be asleep for the benefit of the gentleman to my right. Evidently, he feels close to me.
I've been around. Here's the skinny:
Pay attention to your clothes. You'll be surprised at all the tan and purple and powder blue. Do not wear white shoes. Be neat. Wash behind your ears. Be kind to your fellow applicants. Tell yourself a joke in the conference room. Sit in the seat nearest the admissions representative. Prepare intelligent questions. Don't forget to ask them. Keep a handkerchief handy for your brow. Tell an interesting or amusing story during your interview. Bring a great book and a good book. Read the great one on the plane. Read the good one if you can't sleep. Pass this onto your web browser: www.interviewfeedback.com. Bring an umbrella (I can't stress this one enough). Stay long enough to explore the city. Talk to the students. Sit up straight. Eat your vegetables.
Tell the truth, even if you’re afraid it will hurt you. Honesty is prerequisite for real life. You can quote me.
Relax. It’s a piece of cake, and you’re a knockout.
Columbia University Updater: Spring 2000
I'm reading Barbara Tuchman's The Guns of August in the cheap seats. I gather we're somewhere over Ohio. I have no cookies. They have champagne in First Class.
I am a medical school applicant. Pleased to meet you. My name is Michael. I'm a genius, but I guess you already know that from my file. Lean in a bit closer. I'll tell you a secret. I'm a humanitarian, an altruist. No kidding. I really care about people. I'm swelling with empathy.
In New Orleans, I was asked whether or not I've had a hair transplant. That was my first interview. Though I don't know it yet, I will be asked to define creativity in approximately 24 hours. Right now I'm pretending to be asleep for the benefit of the gentleman to my right. Evidently, he feels close to me.
I've been around. Here's the skinny:
Pay attention to your clothes. You'll be surprised at all the tan and purple and powder blue. Do not wear white shoes. Be neat. Wash behind your ears. Be kind to your fellow applicants. Tell yourself a joke in the conference room. Sit in the seat nearest the admissions representative. Prepare intelligent questions. Don't forget to ask them. Keep a handkerchief handy for your brow. Tell an interesting or amusing story during your interview. Bring a great book and a good book. Read the great one on the plane. Read the good one if you can't sleep. Pass this onto your web browser: www.interviewfeedback.com. Bring an umbrella (I can't stress this one enough). Stay long enough to explore the city. Talk to the students. Sit up straight. Eat your vegetables.
Tell the truth, even if you’re afraid it will hurt you. Honesty is prerequisite for real life. You can quote me.
Relax. It’s a piece of cake, and you’re a knockout.
Columbia University Updater: Spring 2000
posted by Michael Novick at 11:10 PM
0 comments
