Last year a friend called to request a favor. Her daughter had drafted the required college

application essay. Would I be willing to read it over and make editing suggestions? Of course. I

remember well asking my mother, when I was quite young, to review something I'd written. When she

pointed to some misspelled words before offering the hoped for praise, I snatched the paper from her

hands. My retaining this memory of something that happened so long ago, confirmed the wisdom of

my friend seeking help from someone unrelated.

               I sat with her daughter at their dining room table. We were only slightly known to each other,

so there was some discomfort, but little tension. I read the essay and it brought tears to my eyes. She

had written about attending the wedding of an older cousin some months before, and then learning of

his sudden death just weeks later. The joyous event, with the coming together of family from many

parts of the country, was followed closely by the tragedy of an early death, and another coming

together at the funeral. She wrote about life's uncertainties, and her need to recognize and value what

was precious to her, and taken for granted.

              The structure was awkward in places, and certain words over used, but it was, in essence,

simple and beautiful. I suggested the reordering of sentences, the removal of some phrases, and

some different word choices. In the end it seemed quite perfect. We were both pleased. I thought little

more about it until months later when my friend called to report that her daughter had been accepted

at her chosen college, and I was gratified.

              Then just weeks later, I read an article by Randy Cohen, an ethicist published weekly in the

NY Times, who I admire, responding to a question about whether a teacher should help a student

seeking editing assistance with a college application essay. Unequivocally, Cohen said no. 

For just a moment, I wondered whether I had participated in a fraud. I choose to think not, but I'm not

sure.

               Virtually every book published contains a credit that lauds the author's editor (and new best

friend). Writers, thereby, appear to be more accomplished than they are, and no doubt reap the

financial benefits of another’s skill. Lawyers routinely place their names on briefs written, in large part,

by associates who remain unidentified. How many judicial law clerks go unnamed?

             True, book editors are acknowledged, and the brief writing practice is well known, and I was

not. But are there any college admissions officers who are unaware of the assistance given to

applicants, all sorts of coaching along the way?

              I comfort myself with the knowledge that I in no way altered the substance of the essay. I

think if asked again for this kind of help, I would accede to the request.

             But an ethical question is presented, if not the consummate answer.