HLS in Focus

When someone introduces me to a really cute baby, I usually say something (like, “That’s a real cute baby!”). When the baby is homely, I don’t say a word. My point: I would have trouble lying to the poor parent, but I’m also disinclined to be negative. (Confidential to the very cute baby in the office the other day: Also, sometimes I am just too distracted by a co-worker’s birthday cake to tell you how cute you are.)

Why am I telling you this? It’s a pretty big risk, because now anyone who shows me a baby is going to expect a compliment. I tell you because I have been reading a lot of recommendation letters. All recommendation letters are positive. Every single one of them. So my secret is to read for what is NOT said.
Compare:

“Jimmy scored the highest grade in my class of 30 students. And I can tell by his transcript that he has performed especially well in all of his classes here at Big Name U. I recommend him without reservation.”
“A student comes along every few years with the ability to raise the level of a class and to have a real impact on her peers. Sally is that student. In classroom discussions she showed that she had not only read the material, but performed additional research in order to add a nuanced perspective. Her essay exams prove that she’s more than just a good writer; she’s a masterful polemicist and thinker. I asked HER if I could recommend her to law schools.”

Telling, aren’t they? Which one is the not-so-cute baby? Now I know that some professors just aren’t as effusive as others, so I don’t necessarily discount the flat recommendations—but when I get one that is so positive that it sends chills down my spine, I pay attention.