I applied early decision to Kenyon, inspired by the glossy brochures that boasted of Kenyon’s well-established and lively literary community. In my college essay, I wrote about my desire to become a writer. When I arrived at Kenyon as a first year, I eagerly prepared a writing sample of poems I had worked on all during senior year of high school and still more over the summer. My hopes were high that I would take Intro Poetry the next semester. Then, while my friends were rightfully celebrating their acceptances, I found out I didn’t make it in.
My experience is not unique. I think a lot of students come to Kenyon with the expectation of joining the creative writing community. The reality is that only a select few are able to participate in these coveted classes. The way the system works makes it hard to remember that writing is subjective. Does one three-page submission of good writing guarantee that the student in question will be a valuable addition to a class? All it really proves is that the professor reading applications liked something about the writing and they want to work with that student. In addition, the submission process isn’t as straightforward as it may seem. Anyone who has submitted a writing sample to a second or third choice class as a back-up is most likely wasting their time. Because the classes are so competitive, often professors right off the bat won’t admit students who apply to the class as anything other than their first choice.
It is especially hard when you are competing with students that have had access to creative writing in their high schools, either through classes or extracurriculars. Some of these students have even won prizes for their work. Is it fair to admit those who have already taken Intro to Fiction at Kenyon or elsewhere, while excluding others who still have the most to learn from these workshops? Honestly, I’m not sure. I don’t know that there is a better way.
This phenomenon is not particular to Kenyon, either. Many small liberal arts colleges and even large universities require a writing sample from students interested in taking creative writing classes because there are simply not enough professors to meet such a high student demand. The application process is supposed to be a way to locate the students who really want to be there and are willing to put in the effort a creative writing class requires. After all, it is a workshop. It’s not only about producing and improving your own writing, but learning to give and listen to feedback from your peers, learning from each other’s success and mistakes. It’s a community of writers that the workshop is trying to build. Nevertheless, it remains exclusive.
What I mostly take issue with is that Kenyon markets itself to prospective students as a school where they can find their voice as a writer. They fail to mention, however, the truly selective nature of the creative writing program. This tactic is misleading and ultimately disappointing to many students.
Kenyon does offer a lot of ways to experience the literary world, and it is this aspect of my college education for which I am most grateful. At Kenyon I have been exposed to so many ways of thinking about reading and writing, as both a reader and a writer, which I never knew were possible. From literature classes I have learned to think about works from variety of genres and time periods, either for discussion or a complex analytical research paper. With Her Campus, I have learned to write my opinions for a popular audience. As a Kenyon Review Associate, I know how to decide if a manuscript is worthy for publication, and what happens to that manuscript once it has been accepted. Finally, from creative writing classes, I have learned the value and practice of collaborating with other writers to improve a piece of writing.
But more importantly I have learned that no matter anyone else’s opinions, I get to decide when my writing has succeeded. It’s only a matter of finding the people who will appreciate it.
Image Credit: Kenyon College