January and February are months of waiting for many high school seniors and graduate school applicants. Having laid bare who they are in college essays, they wait for decisions on which schools have accepted them – and which haven’t.

It can be arduous, waiting from day to day. Hopeful applicants may not express that arduousness. They don’t want to betray doubt, vulnerability or weakness. The fear of disappointing others invested in the wait, like parents, can be oppressive.

“What if … ?” scenarios linger, barely veiled behind protective facial expressions as decisions take place beyond the applicants’ control: “What if Aaron gets in, and I don’t?” “What if Dad wants the family tradition at U of M when I really want Ohio State?” “What if I get wait-listed from my favorite?” (Hint: We start a tricky campaign.)

So let me offer some advice both on behalf of and to applicants right now. Having worked with such applicants almost 20 years, I see their faces in my head as I write. They’re smart and savvy, and they see through fake stuff.

Applicants need three things, mostly: support, an open ear and tolerance from parents, siblings, friends, teachers and coaches, among others. Showing stress, they feel, is to be avoided with toughness or silence. They know they’re not in a crisis – they’re just waiting – but doing that is hard, especially during senior year, when everything else is racing at full throttle.

Applicants, please know whatever the colleges decide is a lot about them, not necessarily about you. Colleges have needs for incoming freshmen that neither you nor any of us may ever know. A college’s decision on whether to admit you is not overall society’s judgment of you as a person. Never give up any sense of your own self-worth to a third party. Theirs is a temporary decision involving a certain time and place. You live with you – always.

So be proud of your accomplishments and goals, applicants. When stress hits, refocus the energy of dealing with it into doing your best in all endeavors, especially academic ones. Your wait will end in a month or two. In the meantime, remember there is a best-fit college offer for each of you coming soon. Yes, I know that’s hard to believe sometimes, but please feel comforted that you’re learning a lot about patience and growing up right now by just hanging in there. Good luck to all!

The media received a lot of criticism in 2018, some deserved, some not. The intricate weave of the warp and the woof of the media fabric was clearest to me in a story I read in November.

It happened, ironically, in a town called Paradise, California, a town largely inhabited by retirees. What became known as the Camp Fire, the deadliest and most destructive fire in California’s history, spread fast for miles, leaving neighborhoods of Paradise looking like tic-tac-toe boards of simply contingent lot lines, with the houses levelled.

All media were involved in covering this horrific loss of life, which eventually involved bone-sniffing dogs, as well: TV networks and local stations with helicopters; cellphone networks and laptops practically overloaded; radio, newspapers and magazines; and social media blazing for days in real blazes.

Then, amid all of that high-tech, one guy named John Warner showed up on the scene with a stack of simple ink-on-paper flyers.

Now, the simplest, most ancient form of communication besides talking is writing. Often attributed to the Egyptians and the Babylonian King Hammurabi, writing began as etchings on stone tablets. Jumping way forward, the invention of paper followed, and movable type in the Middle Ages allowed printing for distribution. That led to books and newspapers, an early beginning of what would become mass communication.

Yet, in 2018, a simple paper flyer made at home, with only the technology of a copier, reunited Warner, a desperate 46-year-old grandson, with his 96-year-old grandparents during a fire raging for miles. He simply walked into a news conference during which a local sheriff, already bereaved, had named himself “your coroner.” After politely waiting until the end of the conference, Warner showed the sheriff his stack. The sheriff kindly noticed, but, overwhelmed with responsibilities, could not help.

But a local TV reporter did. Within the TV savviness of 2018, the grandson agreed to do an on-camera interview, showing his flyer in front of his face, repeating his cell number and begging for help. Social media exuded immediate empathy, reaching a woman from a church shelter who was attuned and also watching TV. She called Warner’s cellphone to tell the grandson his grandparents were safe. Warner rushed to the shelter and found Faye and Anne Sherman, his grandparents, sitting next to each other on a cot.

At the last moment before their home burned, the Shermans had escaped in their truck. Faye Sherman, almost blind, had Anne Sherman acting as his eyes. At 15 mph, they drove for five hours, finally reaching safety in an IHOP parking lot. At daybreak, the couple found the church shelter. When the family was reunited, Faye Sherman was still wearing his favorite hat, adorned with the word “Veteran.”

The Shermans had no cellphone. Faye Sherman said he didn’t “get” technology. But his grandson did and used it, incorporating the most ancient forms of communication. He wrote. He talked. TV transmitted it. Social media helped to inform the church. The church called on a cellphone. I read about it all in a national newspaper a few days later.

There is never an accurate possibility of underestimating the human spirit. People will fight for loved ones, for life. When we wonder about the worth, aims or failings of the media, let us remember they are not a monolith, but rather, each medium and its representatives are individual cogs in a huge wheel history has blessed us with. None is perfect. Some employed agents have surly or egotistical goals.

But may I suggest that as we enter 2019, we remember Warner and the Shermans? May we consider how fortunate we are to have so many forms of communication that can be so useful to us? Might we just be thankful for a moment amid all the noise? Vigilant, as always, absolutely. As Americans we always hold that responsibility.

Grateful, ever, for the chance. [LN dingbat]

How many times have you heard in the media, “And that’s just the tip of the iceberg!” It’s a cliché that simply means there’s more to say on the subject, but we don’t know definitely yet.

Clichés are basically phrases that have been used so often they’re basically meaningless fillers – boring, old, a reason to turn off.

As a corporate communication trainer, I used to string them together like this (with credit to the late Tripp Frohlichstein, Kirkwood media guru): “Clichés are like a 10-foot pole, cross that bridge when you come to it, and that’s just the tip of the iceberg.” Audiences got the point and laughed, then realized they were guilty, too. Don’t waste time. Say what you really mean.

Acronyms fall under the same category. For example, what does ADA mean? If you just throw that out there in a speech, the meaning to each person depends on his or her own personal experience. For example, the most frequent answer among my clients is the Americans with Disabilities Act. If you’re a teacher, it may be average daily attendance. So potentially the people you’re speaking to are confused until you define your term – a very important and worthy use of four seconds before the use of the acronym. For example, “According to the American Dairy Association, the ADA … ”

Another cliché is when individuals say, “No problem.” Say I walk into a gas station and make my cup of morning coffee, then take my precious creation to the cashier. I give him my $2, and he gives me change. After I say, “Thank you” in this scenario, he says, “No problem.” Imagine rather than him saying, “No problem,” though, he says, “You’re welcome.” It’s subliminal, really, but as the customer, do I want to be a “problem” or feel “welcome”?

Avoiding clichés and acronyms brings your remarks up to date and makes them much more understandable quickly. Quick and concise are essential today. Replace mindless phrases with short sentences with active verbs that get right to the point. Accepting old, overused phrases can be a problem and a worry impeding clear communication. – and that’s no cliché!

I’ve been working this month with many rising high school seniors who are preparing their essays and supplements for college. They are getting a jump-start because they realize homework and all the joys of being a senior are coming up soon. Then they’ll get hit with the huge job of applying to college, and it is huge.

The job starts with the common application essay of 650 words that will go to most or all of the colleges you apply to. For most, it is the first time someone – a stranger, a decision-maker – asks essentially, “Who might you be as a citizen of the world?” Geez! My son had never been asked that when he was 17, which is partly why I started this company almost 20 years ago.

A clear message about who you are is critical to acceptance. Colleges today almost plead for a picture of who you really are. Some applications go so far as to say, “A real person will read this” or “Give us a picture of yourself.”

The common application provides several prompts to guide applicants, and practically anything you write could fit one of them, but still many applicants get stuck on how to start.

First, don’t be afraid of not being good enough. Thinking about the thousands of other applicants as competition will not help. Instead, focus on who you are. Fear is negative energy that can be turned into a positive if you just focus on what you bring to the table. What have you done? What have you learned from it? How does it affect your thinking moving forward?

Stop worrying about that word count. It holds you back from telling your story. If the unedited version comes out to 1,000 words, it can always be edited – and might be better and more succinct that way. I’ve had essays come in for MBA applications that were 1,200 words when the limit was 750. Most often, after editing, students are amazed that their story is better shortened and specific.

Also, don’t try to be too formal. I commonly see this, and admissions committees can easily see through it. Such committees read thousands of essays and recognize patterns immediately. In some cases, The Wall Street Journal reported this month that there are so many applications now that a team of two undergraduate students may be the first to read your essay and decide if it goes forward. Yuck!

So take a chance. All you have to do is grab your readers’ attention and keep it. Be lively, be original, relax and just go for it! There’s a perfect-fit college for everyone!