I often tell my students that there is no one “right” way to navigate through high school. There are some wrong ways—let’s not fail classes or go to jail—but otherwise, it’s just fine to choose your own path (within reason).

Similarly, there is no one “right” way to structure our businesses as independent educational consultants (IECs). Flash back to 25 years ago. I was asked to lead a group of local volunteers for the Stanford Admissions Office in a new venture to involve alumni and parent volunteers in the admissions process. Because we were one of a handful of pilot programs, we received full training as if we were newbie admission officers and, over the 12 years I led the local group, I got a great look at the institutional side of admissions through their lens.

I loved meeting the students and, as my own children got older and their friends’ older siblings started hitting high school age, I started talking with them about college as well.  I’ll never forget the day I asked one young man where he was thinking about applying to college. He said, “UW, WSU, and maybe Western.” I said, “And??” Deafening silence.

In 2010, I’d never heard of independent educational consulting. I did a bit of research and discovered the UC College Counseling programs and registered for the “OG” (original) program at UCLA. I still didn’t quite know what I was going to do with this, but I was encouraged by the fact that I actually knew a lot of what was being taught already.

I was the PTSA president at my kids’ high school and had a meeting with a local mental health counselor to try to get her to come speak to our parents. She asked what I was doing, and I told her about this crazy idea I had to help kids along this path to college.  But I said I was a bit nervous about it. She asked a big question: “Why not?” I didn’t have an answer for that, and so Common Sense College Counseling was born.

I attended my local ACAC conference that spring and met a few local IECs. I reached out to a few, but no one had the time or inclination to take on a mentee, so I decided to create what I thought I would want for my own kids—a general guidance plan, starting in 8th grade, that just ensured that students were on a good path for them as they navigate their way through high school and off to college.

It wasn’t until several years later, when I discovered the professional organizations for IECs, that I realized that my program was relatively unusual. It’s not “hourly”—families don’t reach out when and if they think they need some help. It’s definitely not a comprehensive program where an up-front fee pays for some set of services over time.  It’s a bit of a hybrid.

I call it a hands-off approach to college counseling.

I meet with each of my 50 students in each grade (so, yes, 200-plus kids total) once a year in the winter of 8th, 9th, and 10th grades. At that meeting, usually running about an hour, we discuss course selection, extracurricular activities, and summer plans. For the 10th graders, we also create a standardized testing plan.

In 11th grade, we meet twice. At the winter meeting, we cover the same topics, discuss which teachers they will ask for letters of recommendation, and create a list of 10-30 colleges that might be good fits for them—all in about two hours. At the second 11th grade meeting in the spring, we narrow that list down to the set of schools to which the student will apply, discuss the application process and essay writing, and set a general timeline. After every meeting, I write up copious, comprehensive meeting notes, send them to the student and the parent, and upload them to the planner. And then they are off to the races.

All of our essay work is done back and forth over email. The student sends me a draft; I scribble all over it (often sending back more notes than the original text) and send it back. It usually takes us around four to six drafts to get to a final personal statement. I send general reminders to the whole group of students about getting things done. I send out information about supplemental essays, interviews, resources (I’ll be using the AXS Companion this year for Common App information), and just generally keep nudging them over email and through the planner (I use CollegePlannerPro). I don’t text them. I don’t call them. We don’t have scheduled (or unscheduled) meetings.

This is their process. I am not driving the car; they are. I give them the map, not the step-by-step directions. If they don’t get there, maybe they just weren’t quite ready yet. And that’s okay.

Families pay as they go and pay for what they get; if a meeting lasts for an hour, they pay for that hour. If it lasts for 90 minutes, they pay for 90 minutes. And, in the rare instances when students show up prepared and we finish up in 45 minutes, that’s all they pay for. Parents are always welcome in meetings and learn quickly that I am in charge of the order of operations and the student is in charge of answering the questions. I track my time during essay editing and bill out every few weeks, mostly so parents know where we are and don’t get hit with a huge, unexpected bill.

We laugh a lot. We roll our eyes at each other frequently. There are occasional tears. I miss the hugs now that I’m 100 percent virtual, but I don’t miss the winter colds that the kids always seemed to share with me. And it works. The class of 2023 will be attending 31 unique institutions. In the last five years, my students have applied to over 197 unique schools and have chosen to attend 89 different institutions. This approach allows me to work with a larger number of students with less pressure on me—expectations are set early and frequently, so by the time we get to senior year, there are very few complaints. To me, it just makes common sense.

By Anne Holmdahl, CEP, IECA (WA)