22. That’s how many seniors cried in my office from September through October; 22 students in roughly 40 school days. Each instance was for a different reason, but the college process was at the core of their emotions.

As college counselors, our title has two separate but equally important words: “college” and “counselor.” The “college” part is easier; it's something that we can learn. “Counselor” is more challenging. Counseling requires empathy, active listening, and strength. We are asked to take on the responsibility of a parent, therapist, or peer, even though we are none of these to our students, but there are ways we can still help as “counselors.”

What does being a “counselor” require? German philosopher Lisa Herzog writes about our moral duties within our jobs. She uses the example that a doctor might be required to help in an emergency, even when not on duty. She goes on to write, “In societies with divided labor, it matters that individuals take seriously the moral roles that underlie their occupational roles. Role obligations are the way in which our societies allocate the responsibility for many tasks, and they are vital for their proper functioning.” So what social task is college counseling meant to perform?

One concern I hear regularly from my students is fear of the unknown. As is the worry about being judged by a strange gatekeeper of their future; all of their accomplishments put onto a few sheets of paper, and then quietly reviewed for a few short minutes. However, I think the answer is much more complicated: their stress comes from their imagination. Specifically, stress originates from how seniors imagine different versions of themselves throughout time. I believe it is our duty to give our students back this power, to help them see themselves for who they truly are – not who they believe themselves to be based on the college process.

GPA and test scores are representations of academic evaluations of a student’s past, not personal assessments. So much of students’ self-worth is tied to these numbers. We can help students focus on their character, not their achievements. They’ve done everything they can, and now it’s time to let go of trying to control outcomes.

When speaking with my students, I often question the use of the phrase “dream school”. Are they enjoying their imaginary introductory classes? What is it like at 8 AM at the library in fantasy world? Which social activity are they going to attend on hypothetical Friday night? As you can imagine, they don’t have answers. I respond by saying, “Unless you’ve met the future version of yourself, we are here to make educated guesses. It is a ‘dream school’ because it is literally a figment of imagination.” When students consider their future, they are fraught with anxiety. They want new best friends, top grades, and the social media highlight reel to prove they are thriving. All of this is a dreamscape, a hope that everything will fall into place in college.

No life choice leads to a series of victories without challenges. No one school is going to be in technovision while all the rest are black and white. No college offers unicorn rides to class or tiramisu tasting instead of homework. We want to help them find colleges that will help them be happy and successful, but that is not limited to one path. Students will be happy and successful in college because they are happy and successful people. They should work on the foundations of life and watch themselves flourish after high school.

A student recently told me that without our office, the seniors would devolve into Lord of the Flies. While this is most certainly an exaggeration, I understand the sentiment; we, in many instances, are counselors first. Teenagers may often be stressed, but this process catapults their anxiety levels to existential proportions. Maybe we need to consider that we're not just reading essays and building lists, but guiding our students through a major transitional time in their lives, and one that is continuously evolving to be more stressful.

22 students cried in my office last fall. Maybe next year it will be 0, maybe it will be 30. I can’t foresee how the upcoming junior class will handle their college process differently than the class of 2025. I can, however, be ready to support my students by listening to their fears, recognizing their needs, and asking questions to better understand how I can support them through this process. College is a stepping stone for the rest of their lives, and while we have inherited an obligation to advise them with that next step, I believe college counselors have a duty to help students be the best version of themselves before they graduate high school. If I don’t, there will be 22 students crying in their dorm rooms in college, and they might not have anyone who will listen.