Selective majors preclude exploration

After receiving my early acceptance letter to Yale, I could never look at my high-school classes as I had before. While enduring the remaining weeks of biology, I dreamed of brighter days, when I would study cultural anthropology, geology, or whatever else I fancied. And so when I began my college career, friends, family, and even Dean Richard Brodhead, BR '68, GRD '72, in his charge to the freshmen, didn't have to persuade me to "broaden my horizons." I was ready to dig in.

Three semesters later, I had built a colorful academic transcript which included courses like Introduction to 20th Century American Art, History of Modern China, and Introduction to Computer Programming. I had enjoyed dabbling in the Blue Book, and, in doing so, stumbled upon the perfect major: Ethics, Politics, and Economics. Fantastic? Not exactly. Because the department cannot accommodate all those interested, students apply to the major. Each year, approximately half are accepted, based largely on demonstrated interest in EP&E- related courses. It was frustrating; I had done exactly as everyone had advised—I had sampled, tried, and explored— only to realize that the diversity of classes that helped me discover EP&E might keep me from it. I feared my transcript failed to show a commitment to the major.

Ironically, attempting to enroll in such varied courses had presented a problem. Professors teaching popular seminars generally request statements from interested students to produce a class roster. As a sophomore, I intended to secure coveted spaces just by showing my enthusiasm. I'd write, "Though I've never read anything about (insert obscure course title), I've always wanted to learn about it. I'm excited about your seminar and will try very hard if admitted!"

Then I waited for the acceptance emails to arrive. My empty inbox revealed that this tactic fails miserably. So what works? The key is to convey an extensive background in the course's subject matter. For example, suppose you hope to enroll in the seminar, Problems in Bioethics. If you haven't taken, Bioethical Dilemmas, or Bioethics: Current Issues, you face slim odds. But if you mention all the science and philosophy courses you've taken and refer to remotely relevant extracurriculars, you may have a chance. There is the occasional success story. My roommate attained a spot in a competitive journalism class, without having taken a journalism course before. Her two internships writing for prestigious publications were enough to get her in. Inspirational, isn't it?

Despite my discontent, I too have been fortunate; I was admitted to EP&E. But I object to the process. Selective majors block students from studying the subjects most appealing to them. And they encourage underclassmen to narrow their interests early in their academic careers. With mid-sophomore year application deadlines, freshmen need to plan their schedules strategically. Seminars also limit the ability of undergraduates to explore. After accounting for seniority and majors, professors generally admit those who have the strongest backgrounds, even when the material covered doesn't demand outside knowledge.

The solution? Money. Good thing we've got lots of it. Yale should use its resources to hire more professors to meet student demand. Likewise, if more introductory courses are needed, they should be created. Yale states in the Blue Book that it "has always stood behind the principle of distribution in studies as strongly as it has supported the principle of concentration." Yale should put its money where its mouth is.

Ellen Kanner is a junior in Jonathan Edwards College.

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