Home Results Why It Works About Get Started Pricing Blog
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels
← Back Published on

How I Got a Kid Off the Duke Waitlist (And How You Can Try)

Let’s get one thing straight: getting off a college waitlist isn’t about luck. It’s about leverage.

You’re not pleading for a second chance. You’re reminding them, with grace and swagger, that they messed up by not taking you the first time. And you’re giving them a chance to fix it.

This spring, I had a student waitlisted at Duke. She was sharp. Funny. A quiet powerhouse. But she wasn’t the loudest applicant in the room—and sometimes, that’s exactly who gets waitlisted.

So here’s how we flipped the script. Not with begging. Not with fluff. With strategy, soul, and receipts.

Step 1: Change the Vibe from “Please Pick Me” to “I’m Still Becoming Someone You’ll Want”

When this student first came to me, she already had the raw material. But like most high-achieving girls, she undervalued it. She thought “I made a charcuterie board for AP Lit” wasn’t worth mentioning.

I told her: that’s the whole point.
Not that you made the board—but that no one asked you to. That you cared anyway.

Her final letter didn’t list her stats (even though she had them). It told a story of someone who:

  • Spoke up in mock trial not to win awards, but to get over a fear of public speaking

  • Woke up early to bring beauty to her community

  • Took risks, not because they looked good on paper, but because she wanted to grow

That’s what I teach my students. Not how to “stand out,” but how to reveal the rarest thing of all: self-awareness.

Step 2: Make Updates That Tell a Story

When you’re writing a LOCI, everyone says: “Add updates.” Sure. But don’t just list what you’ve done. Tell me:

  • Why it mattered

  • What it cost you

  • What it says about who you’re becoming

This student won the state championship in mock trial. She scored top marks in a regional chemistry competition. She led a clothing drive with thousands of donations and got featured on a podcast for her environmental work.

But the way she presented those things was humble, confident, and textured. She didn’t shove the awards in their face. She said: “I didn’t do these things because I thought they’d impress Duke. But I hope they do.” And that’s what did it.

Step 3: Know the School’s Soul

Duke doesn’t want perfection. They want curiosity. They want someone who will take a weird class, ask good questions, and throw themselves into everything with messy, honest enthusiasm.

We reflected that in every sentence.

She didn’t say “I want to major in X because…”
She said: “I do things because they’re challenging and unfamiliar. That’s why I applied to Duke.”

She got the school—and it showed.

Step 4: Tell the Truth About ED (and Your Commitment)

She didn’t apply Early Decision. But she told them why: she needed to see financial aid offers first. No drama. No guilt.

Then she made it clear:
“If I’m admitted, I will attend.”

This matters. Schools need to protect their yield. If they’re going to pull someone from the waitlist, they need to know that person won’t ghost them. Say it. Mean it.

Step 5: Show You Still Have Hope (Without Sounding Delusional)

The last line of her letter?
She acknowledged that the odds were slim—but said, as a future statistics major, she knew data had its limits.

She wasn’t pleading. She was showing faith in herself. And that’s what got her in.

What Most People Get Wrong

Most waitlist letters are either:

  1. A bland thank-you note with a list of updates

  2. A therapy session in disguise

  3. A weird mix of both, with a sad little “please let me know if you have any questions!” at the end

None of that works.

What works is: voice, vulnerability, value.
You write like someone who isn’t waiting to be chosen—you’re already becoming the kind of person this school wants to claim as their own.

The Top Dog Difference

Here’s what I do for my students on the waitlist:

I read their application again like a detective: what did admissions miss? I find the thread that makes them unforgettable. I make them write a letter that feels like the closing argument in a movie courtroom scene.

You’re not just “expressing continued interest.” You’re proving you’re the obvious choice.

So yes. She got in. Off the Duke waitlist. In May. Because she didn’t try to impress them—she reminded them who she is.

If you’re sitting in waitlist purgatory, you don’t need a miracle. You need a letter that only you could write. I can help with that.