During the admissions gauntlet, many of us try to present an image of the Ideal student -- someone who is exactly what we think a university wants. Too often, that means hiding or omitting facets of ourselves that don't fit that mold.

But part of what universities want is a diverse, interesting student body. Just think: Would CINDY CRAWFORD have made it big without that mole to make her distinctive? Sure, she is tail, curvy, and gorgeous. But that mole made her stand out from the thousands of other tall, curvy, gorgeous women trying to get noticed, Likewise, highlighting something unique and interesting about yourself can be just the thing to help you stand out from the throng of other qualified applicants.

I didn't learn this lesson until I was looking back at my college application process. In hindsight, I can see the way I presented myself to the two top schools on my list had a lot to do with where I ended up.

Insult
I was thrilled when a local representative of one school I was very interested in called me to set up an interview. This was my chance to stand out from the sky-high pile of talented applicants. The whole bikini-clad video and perfumed stationery thing worked for Elle Woods in "Legally Blonde," but I was looking for something a little less radical. This interview, I was convinced, was my in. I was determined to be the kind of person this university wanted. I wore a little jacket/skirt power suit and my hair in a conservative updo. I even found a little lapel pin of the university's logo.

At this point, I'd like to describe the interview, but in all honesty, I don't remember much of it. In fact, I only remember one thing. The interviewer, let's call him Dr. P., viewed our meeting as a chance to relive his college experience. It was like being trapped at the dinner table on Thanksgiving listening to your great uncle reminisce about boyhood days with his loyal dog Silver when movies only cost five cents and the path to school was uphill both ways.

In the midst of this onslaught, Dr. P. dropped pearls of wisdom here and there. "Get to know your professors. Take a diverse course load. Don't eat the stroganoff. Then he looked at me very seriously and said, "This university isn't a good place to find a husband. If that's what you're after, you should go someplace else."

Excuse me? At first I thought it was a wildly inappropriate and tasteless joke. But he kept right on talking. He was dead serious. I had never, and have not since, been so insulted. But I did not object. I did not walk out. I did not ask if he would give a male that advice. I did not go home and find the number for that school's office of admissions and prevent him from giving this same advice to other women in years of interviews to come. I did not even explain that that wasn't a criterion in choosing a college. Partly, I was too shocked. But mostly, I was too scared. This man, after all, controlled my fate. He was not to be insulted, even if I had just been. What I did, instead, was laugh uncomfortably and leave it at that.

Incident
Another of my top choices had an especially thorough written application. One question was a yes or no check box reading: "Have you ever been suspended or expelled from school?" I imagine that, of the thousands of applicants to this college each year, only a handful have the distinction of being able to check yes. I was one of them. As I checked yes in that box, I also checked "not a chance" on my mental list of potential alma maters. They could accept anyone; why would they accept little, besmirched me?

But there was more: "Optional: If you would like, attach a brief essay explaining this event." If I would like? I would have liked to crawl in a small dark place and hide, embroider a giant red "S" on every shirt I owned, claim amnesia, and hope they wouldn't check my transcript. The last thing I wanted was to write an additional 350 words that would be the equivalent of a giant, flashing neon sign over my check in the yes box. But as strong as my shame was, it just wasn't me to roll over and die. I had to at least try to explain my suspension (what my family still calls "the incident"). There was a chance someone would read it and understand that I wasn't a juvenile delinquent, just a juvenile.

So I wrote the extra essay. I didn't make excuses for my behavior, but I didn't prostrate myself either. A few of my friends had been drinking (I had not), and I drove them to a school dance so they wouldn't drive themselves. Dealing with the situation that way was incredibly stupid, and I learned many painful lessons from the experience. I would do it all differently now, but I would not apologize for trying to prevent something awful. I would never get into that school, I thought, but at least I stood up for myself.

In Conclusion
The school that wouldn't find me a husband put me on the waiting list. And why not? Trying so hard to be courteous and likeable, I had all but agreed with the interviewer's implicit assessment that I was a shallow gold-digger looking for my "MRS." degree. He was right about one thing - this wasn't a school for anyone like that.

The school that received an essay describing how I had grown as a result of "the incident" accepted me. Of course. By taking that risk, I had made my already strong application stand out from the sea of anonymously perfect other ones. Not by describing my suspension, but by displaying a little bit of courage and a lot about my convictions, my attitude, and who I really was.

I am not recommending suspension as a way of getting into the college of your dreams. I am, however, recommending showing off who you are - not who you would like to be or who you think the university would like you to be. Take advantage of opportunities to express your personality, and help the admissions officer reading your application get a better sense of the real you.

Top schools can enroll two classes of students who are equally qualified on paper. What will get you into the class that is actually accepted is proving that, in addition to being a good student, you are an interesting, unique individual who will contribute to the dynamic environment of any university lucky enough to attract you. Few of us have the good fortune to look like Cindy Crawford, but all of us have some unique feature - our own inner moles - just waiting to be appreciated.

P.S: After I accepted an invitation from Stanford University (Palo Alto, CA) in late May, the other "anti-MRS." school called me back. Acceptance rates had been lower than expected -- would I be interested in leaving the wait list for a spot on campus? This time I told them just what I thought: not a chance.

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