“We’re working on his personal brand,” says James, the 47-year-old dad of Jameson, who hasn’t spoken a word on our introductory Zoom call. “We’re applying to a bunch of summer programs, but we also know he needs a passion project, something ‘spikey’ on his application.”By the end of the call, James has used the word “we” a dozen times, once even accidentally saying “I” and “my” as in, “I called the office to check on the status of my application,” before correcting back to “we.” Never “he,” “him,” or really referring to his son at all, who just stares blankly at the Zoom screen.

Along with all of the other parenting trends - more time on average spent playing with kids, dads more involved in the home life, more moms working out of the home (but still somehow spending more time with their kids than 40 years ago) - there is one other trend that not as many people are talking about: Gen X parents have gotten VERY good at applying to college. They have had a lot of practice. First, they themselves applied to college in the 90s. It was so much easier back then, they lament.

Back in 1995, the acceptance rate at Harvard was a little over 12% and Stanford 20% (now both hover around 4%). They may have been admitted to their in-state institution by turning in a form days before the deadline. Back then, the University of Michigan admitted about half of its applicants (now about 14% get in) and Cal Berkeley admitted roughly 40% (now 11%). But this is the latchkey generation; there’s nothing they can’t do, especially when given full control. Now, they have experience, money, and sobriety on their side, they can tackle this project just like any other.

Adults in their 40s and 50s are adept at building a resume; they have written and read several. They’re great at writing compelling personal statements; they’ve advocated and pleaded for far more complex cases than their teenage children.We’ve got this. This is what good parenting looks like. This is how my kid will get into college.This is why so many parents have a tough time swallowing the reality pill that I dish out. In my 13 years running a college and career counseling practice, I’ve observed the following formula: An increase in parent involvement in a student’s college application process equals an equal decrease in the student’s involvement, which results in less-than-desirable admission outcomes.

Paradoxically, the more you help, the more you hurt your student’s chances. In a recent article, Corinne Low, an economist at the University of Pennsylvania, said that loaded resumes of applicants more often signal “the labor input of the parents,” than that of the student. I tell my students to seek out activities that are of their own volition and design. Show that you are capable of putting yourself out there, reaching out to mentors, and applying for volunteer opportunities on your own. The fancy internships and expensive summer programs show more about your parents’ resources and connections than your drive or initiative.

Parenting a child through their college admission journey requires voluntarily resigning from the very project you know you could totally crush. And of course you could - we’d be surprised if you couldn’t; you’re an adult, after all. But when parents take over their kids’ college apps (or job apps, as is apparently happening), two damaging signals are sent: The child receives the message that they are incapable of doing this college thing on their own. The college receives the message that the student can’t do this college thing on their own.

Even if successfully admitted to college, heavy parental involvement handicaps the student, making the transition to college and independent living much more challenging. It also robs them of the self-formation that can only come from trials - the devastating ones as well as the ones that make for hilarious dinner conversations. When I talk with friends about their own college experiences, they are full of missteps as well as joys, and nearly all the stories are void of parent involvement. The retelling of our college adventures is so fun because of the mistakes - not in spite of them. Never has a friend in their 40s said to me, “If only my mom had written my college essay…”