September 3rd – Evening reflection
I’ve been staring at my computer screen for the past twenty minutes, trying to process this afternoon’s university guidance presentation. Another academic year, another auditorium full of anxious faces—students in the front rows frantically taking notes, parents in the back exchanging worried glances, and me in the middle trying to balance honesty with hope.
After eight years of guiding international students through the US admissions maze, you’d think I’d have this figured out by now. My first two years here at Bangkok International Academy have taught me that while the fundamentals of college counseling remain consistent, every school community brings its own unique dynamics. BIA draws families from across Southeast Asia and beyond—diplomatic families, expat executives, local Thai families choosing international education, students like Rishi living with extended family while parents remain in their home countries. It’s a community where third culture kids are the norm rather than the exception, and where “Where are you from?” is rarely a simple question.
But every September brings new challenges, new stories, and new reminders of why this work matters so much.
Today’s presentation covered the usual territory: timeline expectations for each grade level, standardized testing requirements, the mysterious world of “holistic admissions.” I watched familiar patterns emerge—Grade 9 students looking overwhelmed but curious, Grade 10s starting to feel the first hints of pressure, juniors scribbling furiously as reality sets in, and seniors already looking like they needed a vacation.
But it’s the individual faces that stick with me. The students I’ll be working closely with this year, each carrying their own unique bundle of dreams, pressures, and uncertainties about this whole process.
Take Mei, sitting in the third row, her notebook already color-coded with different highlighters. She’s one of my Grade 12s this year—technically American but raised here in Bangkok since she was seven. Smart as they come, passionate about psychology, and absolutely determined to pursue pre-med. But I could see the tension in her shoulders when I mentioned the current political climate in the US. Her father’s concerns about American universities have been filtering down to her, and I know she’s wrestling with questions that go far beyond academics. How do you return to a country that feels both home and foreign? How do you navigate family anxieties while pursuing your own dreams?
A few seats over, Do-Hyun—who goes by David here—was doodling soccer plays in his notebook margins. Another senior, but his challenges are completely different. Academically capable but not yet academically passionate, which puts him in a tough spot when parents are pushing for prestigious universities. I’ve seen this pattern before in my years working across East Asia: families equating selectivity with success, students trying to manufacture enthusiasm they don’t yet feel. David’s going to need help finding schools where his genuine interests—sports culture, community, exploring different fields—can flourish, even if they don’t carry the name recognition his parents are hoping for.
My attention kept drifting to Mali in the junior section. She was sketching in her notebook instead of taking traditional notes—probably absorbing more through her artistic processing than others were through bullet points. She’s got this amazing creative energy, influenced by Bangkok’s street art scene, but she’s navigating this whole process essentially alone. Her family is supportive but completely unfamiliar with American universities. She’s going to need extra support building her portfolio and understanding how American liberal arts education can nurture her interdisciplinary interests.
And then there’s Rishi, my Grade 10 standout. Sitting with the underclassmen, already asking sophisticated questions about engineering programs and AI research opportunities. He’s brilliant—the kind of math and physics talent that universities actively recruit—but he’s also essentially parenting himself here while his family remains in Singapore. I suspect there are financial complexities I don’t fully understand yet, and I have a feeling there may be family dynamics that could shift as circumstances change.
What strikes me most after today is how each of these students is carrying some version of the same fundamental challenge: figuring out who they are while managing family expectations, cultural transitions, and a university system that values authenticity in a way their previous educational experiences might not have prepared them for.
The American concept of “holistic admissions” sounds straightforward in a presentation, but I know that for many of my students, it represents a fundamental shift in how they think about academic success. Moving from exam-based systems where merit is clearly quantified to a process that asks them to articulate their unique value proposition—that’s not just a college application challenge, that’s a personal development journey.
I’m looking forward to my individual meetings with each of these students over the next few weeks. That’s where the real work begins—not in presentations or general guidance, but in those one-on-one conversations where students feel safe enough to share their real concerns, their family pressures, their dreams that might not align with parental expectations.
Every year, I’m reminded that my job isn’t just about getting students into universities. It’s about helping them understand themselves well enough to make choices that will serve them for decades to come. And in a school where students are already navigating multiple cultures, languages, and family expectations, that self-discovery process is both more complex and more crucial than ever.
Tomorrow, Mei has the first individual appointment. She emailed me three questions already, and I have a feeling this year is going to be quite the journey for all of us.
Time to review her file and prepare for what I suspect will be a very interesting conversation about identity, belonging, and finding your place in a complicated world.
Next week: Individual meetings begin, and the real stories start to unfold…
Archway Quest 