Limited Seating

Leaving in the middle of class to catch a break on the couch in a neighboring lounge I ran into a small group of classmates. The conversation was not at all hushed, but was far enough away from the doors as not to leak into the lecture hall.

Student 1: “Saturated man. That’s what they said.”

Student 2: “Saturated? Who?”

Student 1: “S—-. S—- said it. So you know its true. Man, I’m going into a meeting with Admissions to see what’s up.”

Student 3: “I don’t get it. Why wouldn’t Admissions just tell us? Why do we find out stuff like this through a focus meeting? Not even an e-mail? There’s got to be at least half of us still pushing for school next year and we’re competing for seats not even available anymore?”

Student 2: “That’s fucked up man. I bet they think we’d just give up and the program will deflate if we actually knew.”

Student 1: “I’ll let you know what Admissions says. Man, I can’t believe this. They were saying that we’re all good candidates, but that there’s just not enough room…”

The thing that sealed it was the name Student 1 said. The name said it all. As one of the faculty that consistently supported and encouraged out class with phrases like “when you’re in medical school next year,” or “you’ll see this again next year,” if he said something so definite then it had to be true.

I imagine it’s hard to decide from an Admissions stand point who gets in and who doesn’t. Certain things are easy to qualify like MCAT scores and GPA’s, but while these are good indicators of academic prowess they do little to show ability to function as a dynamic social-medical component. But I get it – it’s a matter of risk.

It all seems quiet smoke and mirrors to me though. Why not just be more upfront so at least 70 people can figure out how they’re going to rearrange their lives next year? Maybe it’ll all make more sense in the next couple weeks.