Devon Blog

Tag: Peer Coaching

  • I Didn’t Know the Rules, But My Peer Coach Knew the Game

    By Aditi R. (not her real name), International Student from India

    Before I even began applying to colleges in the United States, I knew I was already behind. Not academically—I had top grades, extracurriculars, and awards—but behind in understanding how the system actually worked. In India, we take entrance exams for specific fields and institutions. You study, take a test, and that score determines your admission. The U.S. system, with its essays, recommendations, financial aid forms, and holistic review, felt like an entirely different game—with rules no one around me could explain.

    I didn’t have older siblings or family members who had gone through the U.S. application process. My school counselor was well-meaning, but she had dozens of students and limited time. So I did what many students do: I started Googling. I found college admissions YouTube videos, blogs, and forums, but they often gave contradictory advice. Should I apply Early Decision? How many extracurriculars were enough? Should I submit SAT scores or not? I didn’t even know what questions I was supposed to ask.

    Then I found Pathways, a peer coaching program, and I was matched with Maya (not her real name), a college student from India who had been through the U.S. admissions process two years earlier. She became my coach—and my translator for the unwritten rules of the game.

    Maya didn’t just know how the U.S. admissions system worked—she knew why it worked that way. When I asked her why colleges cared so much about essays, she explained that in a system without standardized national entrance exams, essays help admissions officers understand who you are beyond your grades. When I worried about whether being a “generalist” instead of a “specialist” would hurt my chances, she helped me frame my broad interests—debate, science Olympiads, community work—into a coherent narrative.

    Most importantly, Maya taught me strategy. She showed me how to build a college list that balanced reach, match, and safety schools while still aligning with my academic and personal goals. She explained that some colleges are more generous with financial aid for international students than others, and that applying Early Decision could be risky if you needed aid. She even gave me a spreadsheet template to track deadlines, supplemental essay requirements, and scholarship opportunities.

    One of the most confusing aspects for me was recommendation letters. In India, it’s not common for teachers to write detailed, personalized letters. Maya helped me approach the right teachers early and even coached me on how to give them information about my achievements and goals to help them write stronger letters. Her advice was both practical and empathetic—she had been through the same awkward conversations and reassured me that it was okay to advocate for myself.

    When I struggled with my Common App personal statement, Maya didn’t tell me what to write—she asked the right questions to help me uncover a story that felt real and meaningful. I wrote about growing up in a multilingual household, how navigating three languages shaped the way I think and communicate. Without her encouragement, I might have written a generic essay about academics or volunteer work. Instead, I wrote something personal, something that sounded like me.

    Even with all this help, I had moments of doubt—especially when friends around me received admissions decisions earlier, or got offers from universities I hadn’t even considered. Maya reminded me that the U.S. system values fit over rank. Just because a school is ranked lower globally doesn’t mean it’s a poor choice for your goals. Her calm, informed perspective helped me stay focused on my path rather than constantly comparing myself to others.

    Eventually, I was admitted to multiple U.S. colleges, including two with generous scholarships. But what I gained went beyond admissions letters. Through peer coaching, I learned to see myself the way admissions officers might see me: not just as a number or a resume, but as a whole person with a story, potential, and agency.

    The U.S. college application process may seem chaotic from the outside—but there is a system underneath it, a structure of priorities and signals. I didn’t know those rules when I started. But Maya did. And because she did, she helped me play the game on equal footing.

    Now, I’m planning to become a peer coach myself. Not because I want to give advice, but because I know how powerful it is to feel seen, heard, and guided—by someone who’s been there before.

  • Peer Coaching Helped My Parents Understand, Too

    By Amina K. (not her real name), Undergraduate Student from Pakistan

    When I decided to apply to universities in the United States, I was excited—excited to explore new opportunities, to challenge myself academically, and to step into a world that seemed so different from my home in Pakistan. However, there was a huge obstacle in my path: my parents.

    It’s not that my parents didn’t want me to pursue higher education abroad—they did. But they had never been to the United States themselves. They didn’t know how the admissions process worked. In fact, they didn’t even understand the basic concepts of what I needed to do: SAT scores, essays, interviews, financial aid—it all seemed like an insurmountable mountain to them. Even though I wanted this, they were scared. They couldn’t comprehend the complexities of what I was trying to navigate.

    I vividly remember long nights spent explaining the U.S. college system to my parents. I would tell them about deadlines, requirements, and what I needed to prepare, but they would get confused or frustrated. They wanted to be supportive, but they just didn’t have the context or knowledge to understand what I was saying. It wasn’t just a language barrier—it was the culture gap, too. The American way of higher education was so different from anything they had known.

    That’s when I found peer coaching. Through Pathways, I was connected with Lila (not her real name), a peer coach who was a student at a prestigious university in the U.S. She had gone through the same journey of applying as an international student, and she understood exactly what I was experiencing. But what I didn’t expect was that Lila’s guidance didn’t just help me—it helped my parents, too.

    When we first connected, I wasn’t sure how she would be able to help with my specific situation. I had a lot of logistical questions about how to write my essays and what schools I should apply to, but I was also struggling with my parents’ concerns. Lila was incredibly empathetic, listening patiently as I shared the challenges I faced with my family. After hearing my story, she offered a unique solution: “Why don’t I talk to your parents directly?”

    At first, I was skeptical. How would a conversation between Lila and my parents help? They didn’t speak English fluently, and they were understandably nervous about a system they didn’t understand. But Lila’s offer gave me hope. We set up a Zoom call where Lila patiently walked my parents through the entire application process—from what an SAT score was to the differences between financial aid and scholarships. She explained how American universities selected students and why extracurricular activities were so important.

    But most importantly, she explained that the process was not a “one size fits all” approach. There were universities with different financial aid policies, and that it wasn’t just about getting into the top-tier schools—it was about finding the right fit. This approach, this reassurance that we had options, put my parents’ minds at ease. They saw that this wasn’t some unattainable dream but a process that could be navigated with the right support.

    Lila also made it clear to my parents that applying to U.S. colleges as an international student wasn’t as simple as filling out a form—it required research and effort. But hearing it from someone who had been in their shoes made all the difference. She told them about the challenges she faced as an international student, her journey with the visa process, and the financial hurdles she overcame. Her success story made them feel like it was possible for me too. They no longer saw my decision as a far-off fantasy but as something grounded in reality.

    The conversation with Lila didn’t just address the technicalities of applying to college—it helped bridge a massive gap between my parents’ concerns and the practical steps I needed to take. I watched as my parents’ anxiety turned into cautious optimism. They started asking questions about schools and financial aid options they had never even considered before.

    What I also appreciated was that Lila encouraged my parents to be actively involved in my college search. In our subsequent calls, she reminded me to involve my parents in the process, helping them understand that their support would make a huge difference. She also emphasized that even though the system was different from what they knew, the principles behind it—hard work, determination, and a willingness to learn—were the same everywhere.

    In the end, the peer coaching experience wasn’t just about helping me get into college; it was about empowering my parents to understand the entire process and to be confident in my ability to navigate it. It helped all of us realize that while the unknown can be overwhelming, with the right guidance, it’s possible to break it down and make it manageable.

    When the acceptance letters started coming in, my parents were the first to celebrate. They had come to trust the process because they now understood it. They had seen firsthand how someone who had been where I was—someone from a similar background—had successfully navigated the same journey.

    Looking back, I realize how important it was for my family to feel included in this decision. It wasn’t just my future at stake; it was our collective understanding of how to take this leap together. And without peer coaching, I’m not sure that understanding would have ever fully taken root.

    If you’re an international student, don’t be afraid to ask for help. You’re not just navigating a system that’s unfamiliar to you; you’re navigating it for your entire family. Peer coaching is a way to make that process smoother, not just for you but for the people who support you the most. It can give everyone the tools and confidence to make your dreams a reality—together.

  • I had Never Set Foot in America—But My Peer Coach Helped Me Feel at Home

    By Lian T. (not her real name), First-Year Student from Vietnam

    I still remember how surreal it felt when I first considered applying to a university in the United States. I had never visited. I didn’t have family there. All I knew about the U.S. came from Hollywood movies and the occasional online article. The application portals, essay prompts, and even the idea of “extracurriculars” felt foreign. My parents were supportive, but they had no idea what the Common App was, and neither did my high school teachers.

    That’s when I met Sophie (not her real name), a peer advisor studying at a liberal arts college in the Midwest. She was Korean American and had grown up in California, but she had worked with several international students before. Our first Zoom call lasted over an hour. She didn’t just explain deadlines or how to list activities; she asked about me. What I enjoyed. What I was proud of. Where I felt out of place.

    She helped me realize that my volunteer work teaching English to rural kids wasn’t just a kind thing I did—it was leadership. It was impact. That shift in mindset changed everything. Sophie didn’t just tell me what to write; she helped me understand why my story mattered.

    Through our sessions, I learned how to present myself authentically while still aligning with what American schools look for. We reviewed my essays, talked through my interview jitters, and even practiced how to email admissions officers (a thing I didn’t know students actually did!).

    When the acceptance letters came, I had choices. I chose a school that valued community, offered support for international students, and had the same warmth I felt from Sophie. I haven’t stepped foot on campus yet—visa delays are still real—but I already feel like I belong.

  • The Missing Link in Our College Prep Plan: A Peer Perspective

    By Marcus H. (not his real name), Parent of a High School Senior

    I thought we had everything covered.

    My daughter, Laila (not her real name), had been preparing for college since middle school. We had the grades, the SAT prep books, the volunteer hours, and a spreadsheet mapping deadlines for everything from FAFSA to supplemental essays. As a father, especially one who didn’t go through this system myself—my own education was pieced together in night classes while I worked—I wanted to make sure she had more than I did. I thought if we planned hard enough, we’d be ready.

    But about two months into senior year, I saw something I hadn’t planned for: Laila was stuck. Not just on logistics, but emotionally—creatively. She didn’t know how to tell her story. She didn’t feel like she had one worth telling.

    She’d write three lines and erase them. “Everything sounds fake,” she told me one night, defeated. “Like I’m just writing what they want to hear.”

    I didn’t know how to help. And that’s when we discovered something we hadn’t factored into our plan: the peer perspective.

    Why Peer Coaching Changed Everything

    Laila was paired with a college sophomore named Diego (not his real name), a first-gen student from El Paso who had once been exactly where she was. Diego wasn’t a counselor. He wasn’t some adult giving lofty advice about finding your “authentic voice.” He was just a guy who had recently written essays, filled out forms, and lived through the stress of decision letters and second-guessing.

    From their first conversation, something shifted. Diego asked questions that didn’t sound like school:
    “What made you choose the environmental club over all the others?”
    “When you talk about your brother, what’s something you’ve never put in writing before?”
    “Is there something you stopped doing that you miss?”

    He didn’t critique her. He listened. And she responded. For the first time, Laila didn’t feel like she was being interviewed. She felt seen.

    More Than Just Essay Help

    Diego helped Laila unpack her story—how growing up in a mixed-heritage home (Black and Filipina), how translating at parent-teacher conferences for her mom, how her curiosity about climate change started with picking up plastic bottles in the neighborhood park as a kid—wasn’t just background noise. It was the story.

    I listened outside the room during one of their sessions and heard something I hadn’t heard in weeks: laughter. Real laughter. They were talking about her part-time job at the aquarium and how her manager always made her feed the stingrays because no one else wanted to do it. That moment became the opening line of her Common App essay.

    “Before I ever spoke at a climate rally, I was hand-feeding stingrays in a tank behind a mall.”

    Who knew?

    What We Had Been Missing

    Looking back, we had counselors and teachers and a family support system. But what we didn’t have was someone close enough to the experience to make it feel possible. That’s what Diego brought.

    He didn’t just help her write. He gave her permission to be proud of who she was without translating it into bullet points. He reminded her that rejection happens even to the most qualified students—and it’s not a reflection of worth. He made her feel less alone.

    For a student like Laila—ambitious, unsure, deeply self-aware—the difference between generic advice and peer insight was like night and day.

    A Lesson for Other Parents

    Now that we’re on the other side of it—essays submitted, interviews done, acceptances arriving—I can say with confidence that the missing link in our college prep plan wasn’t more test prep or another club. It was empathy, relatability, and insight from someone who’d just walked that path.

    I wish we’d found peer coaching sooner. Not because it would’ve changed the outcome (though maybe it would have), but because it changed how my daughter saw herself in the process. She felt understood. She felt like her story mattered.

    In a process that too often feels transactional, peer mentorship brought the humanity back.

    If you’re a parent going through this journey with your teen, ask yourself: who’s helping your child not just prepare for college—but prepare to be heard?

    That’s the piece we almost missed. And now I can’t imagine this process without it.

  • Peer Coaching Made My Teen Feel Understood—and Inspired

    By Laura Kim (Not her real name), Parent of a High School Junior

    As a parent, one of my biggest challenges has always been understanding how best to support my teenager through the college application process. My daughter, Siti (not her real name), is a brilliant, driven high school junior with big dreams. But like many teens, she often found herself struggling with the pressure of grades, extracurriculars, and the looming question of “What’s next?”

    We are a Korean-American family, and while we emphasize hard work and academic achievement, it was always clear to me that Siti’s path wasn’t going to look the same as mine. Her interests were different, and she needed someone who truly understood her unique struggles and aspirations—someone who could guide her in a way that felt personal and meaningful. That’s when we found peer coaching, and it completely changed the way Siti saw herself and her potential.

    The Search for Guidance

    In the midst of all the application prep, I noticed Siti was becoming overwhelmed. She often felt isolated, as if no one truly understood the pressure she was facing. She would tell me, “Mom, you don’t get it. You were just focused on school and getting into college. But it’s different now. I don’t know where I fit in.”

    At first, I struggled with how to help her articulate her feelings. As much as I wanted to be there for her, I wasn’t sure how to guide her in this new world of college applications, where everything seemed to depend on an essay or a test score. That’s when I came across a peer coaching program, which paired students with mentors—other high schoolers who had recently gone through the application process themselves. The idea of having a peer who had walked in her shoes immediately appealed to me, and I encouraged Siti to give it a try.

    The Impact of Peer Coaching

    Siti was hesitant at first. Like many teenagers, she didn’t want to feel like she was asking for help. But when she connected with Leila (not her real name), a senior who had successfully navigated the college application process, things started to click. Leila, who is of Moroccan and French descent, had a story that resonated with Siti in ways I couldn’t have predicted. Both girls came from immigrant families and faced the added challenge of balancing cultural expectations with their own ambitions. Leila had been a first-generation college applicant herself, and her experiences gave her insights that my daughter could deeply relate to.

    Their coaching sessions became a safe space for Siti to open up. Leila not only helped Siti brainstorm ideas for her college essays but also talked her through the emotional rollercoaster of managing expectations, feeling unsure of her choices, and worrying about future rejection. The beauty of peer coaching is that it’s not just about practical advice; it’s about emotional support. Siti no longer felt alone in the process. Leila shared her own struggles and triumphs, and that gave Siti a sense of hope that she could do it, too.

    One of the most powerful moments came when Leila helped Siti see that her passion for community service wasn’t just a filler activity—it was the heart of her application. Leila helped Siti realize that her volunteer work at a local refugee center could be framed not only as an extracurricular but as a defining experience that reflected her character and future aspirations. This was a turning point for Siti, as she began to feel more confident in what she had to offer, beyond her grades and test scores.

    More Than Just College Prep

    As a parent, it was incredible to watch Siti grow not just in her college prep journey, but in her self-awareness. Peer coaching gave her the opportunity to talk openly with someone who understood the emotional and mental toll of the process. Leila didn’t just offer advice—she listened and provided validation, which is something my daughter couldn’t always find at home or in school. Siti began to develop her own voice, and her confidence soared as she realized that her story was unique, valuable, and worth telling.

    At the same time, I could see the positive impact peer coaching had on Leila, too. By helping Siti, Leila was able to reflect on her own experiences and solidify her own understanding of what college meant to her. Peer coaching wasn’t just a one-way mentorship; it was an exchange of ideas and experiences that enriched both sides.

    Why Peer Coaching Works

    What stood out to me about peer coaching is that it taps into something that’s often missing in traditional academic guidance: relatability. Coaches who have just gone through the same challenges are able to provide practical advice while also offering emotional support. They are closer to the age and mindset of the students they’re helping, making it easier for them to connect on a personal level.

    Peer coaches also help students gain a broader perspective. Siti came to understand that while her journey was unique, she wasn’t the only one struggling with uncertainty, imposter syndrome, or fear of failure. Leila reminded her that many of these feelings are normal, and that it’s okay not to have everything figured out. For Siti, this was invaluable.

    A Newfound Confidence

    By the time Siti completed her college applications, she felt more than ready. She had written her essays with a newfound sense of purpose, guided by Leila’s insights and support. Siti wasn’t just submitting a set of applications; she was presenting her authentic self. More importantly, she was no longer afraid to dream big.

    When we received the news that Siti had been accepted to her top-choice school, I couldn’t help but think back to those coaching sessions. Peer coaching hadn’t just helped Siti navigate the application process; it had given her the tools to believe in her own potential and own her story.

    If you have a teenager in the college application process, I can’t recommend peer coaching enough. It’s a process that’s about much more than essays and deadlines. It’s about understanding, support, and inspiration from someone who truly gets it. For Siti, it was the difference between feeling overwhelmed and feeling empowered.

  • How My Immigrant Background Became My Admissions Superpower

    By Linh Tran (not his real name), First-Generation Vietnamese-American Student

    When I started my college applications, I was convinced I needed to erase parts of myself.

    I didn’t grow up speaking English at home. My parents fled Vietnam after the war and never finished high school. We lived in a two-bedroom apartment in the back of my uncle’s bakery, where the smell of bánh mì and fresh dough became part of my childhood. I worked the counter after school, folded egg rolls on weekends, and translated letters from the bank for my parents at age 13.

    None of that felt like something colleges wanted to hear.

    So at first, I tried to sound like a “typical” American student. I focused on my AP classes, my science fair award, my internship at a local lab. I wrote drafts of my personal statement about wanting to become a doctor — not because I didn’t mean it, but because it felt like what I was supposed to say.

    But it all felt flat. Generic. Like I was writing someone else’s story.

    Everything changed the day I connected with a peer coach — someone who’d been through the same journey and was now thriving at a competitive university. Her name was Naomi, a Cambodian-American student who grew up in a neighborhood not so different from mine. She asked me one question that turned everything upside down: “What are you proud of that has nothing to do with school?”

    I told her about helping my mom sew reusable masks during the pandemic, and how I set up an online ordering form using Google Sheets so the neighbors could safely get groceries from our bakery. I told her about how I started a YouTube channel to teach Vietnamese kids how to pronounce tricky English sounds, because I knew the embarrassment of being laughed at when you mispronounce “pizza” as “pita.”

    Naomi smiled and said, “That’s leadership. That’s initiative. That’s resilience. Why wouldn’t you lead with that?”

    For the first time, I saw my background not as a burden to hide, but as evidence of character.

    She helped me revise my essays — not just for grammar or style, but for authenticity. I wrote about the pressure of being the oldest daughter in an immigrant family, the unspoken expectations to succeed, and how that fueled my drive — not just to achieve, but to represent. I wrote about the balancing act of two cultures, of growing up watching Vietnamese dramas and Grey’s Anatomy in the same night, and how it shaped the way I think, adapt, and connect.

    More importantly, she helped me rethink how I presented myself. I didn’t have to apologize for not having fancy summer programs or a polished resume. I had something else: lived experience. And that mattered.

    When the acceptance emails started arriving — from schools I didn’t even dare to dream of six months earlier — I realized something powerful: being a first-generation immigrant didn’t hold me back. It propelled me forward.

    Now, as a first-year college student, I’ve started volunteering as a peer advisor myself. I work with students from Burmese, Laotian, Hmong, and Filipino families — each with their own versions of my story. I remind them what I had to learn the hard way: your background isn’t a liability. It’s a lens. It gives you insight, empathy, and drive that no test score can measure.

    So if you’re like me — if you’re navigating college apps with one foot in your family’s culture and one foot in a system that was never designed with you in mind — here’s what I want you to know:

    Your story is enough. Your experience is valid. And your voice deserves to be heard.

    Because what I once saw as obstacles were actually the qualities that got me here — and they might just be your superpower too.

  • What I Wish I Knew Before Starting My College Apps

    By Aanya S., Student and First-Gen US College Applicant

    If I could go back and have one honest conversation with my junior-year self, it would start with this: You’re not alone, and you don’t have to figure it out by yourself.

    When I began the college application process, I thought it was just about writing essays and submitting scores. I didn’t know that the hardest part wasn’t the paperwork — it was the planning, the second-guessing, and the self-doubt that crept in when I was supposed to be making the biggest decision of my life.

    No one in my family had gone to college in the U.S., and though my parents wanted the best for me, they couldn’t help me figure out FAFSA or the difference between Early Action and Regular Decision. At school, the guidance counselor was juggling over 400 students. It wasn’t her fault, but I felt invisible.

    That changed the day I met Joanna, a peer advisor a year ahead of me. She’d been through it all — late nights with the Common App, FAFSA errors, agonizing over which extracurriculars to highlight — and more importantly, she got me. She spoke my language, literally and figuratively. She wasn’t trying to dazzle me with stats or throw acronyms at me. She asked me simple questions like, “What makes you feel most alive?” and “If a college said yes to you, what kind of place would it be?”

    I didn’t know it then, but what she was doing was coaching — not advising in a formal sense, but helping me uncover what mattered to me, what made me unique. Together, we mapped out a timeline. We talked about how to approach my essays — not with a strategy to impress, but as a way to tell my story. She helped me understand what colleges were actually looking for: authenticity, clarity, and a sense of purpose.

    Looking back, here are five things I wish someone had told me before I started:

    1. Your application is not just a form — it’s your story.
      I treated it like a job application at first, checking boxes and trying to sound impressive. But admissions officers aren’t hiring you — they’re inviting you into a community. They want to know who you are when nobody’s watching.
    2. Deadlines are only the tip of the iceberg.
      There are internal deadlines too: when to ask for rec letters, when to draft your essays, when to take a step back and reevaluate your list. Having a calendar with built-in breathing room saved me.
    3. You will second-guess yourself — that’s normal.
      I rewrote my personal statement three times. I wondered if I should’ve joined one more club or taken one more AP. But I learned that clarity beats quantity. It’s better to go deep than wide.
    4. Help is out there, but you have to reach for it.
      Whether it’s a peer coach, a teacher, or someone who went through the process recently, talking to someone who’s walked the path before can change everything. They know the hidden stressors, the unspoken fears, and the little hacks that make a big difference.
    5. Celebrate the small wins.
      Every finished essay, every submitted app, every time I pressed “save” on a draft — those were victories. Don’t wait until an acceptance letter to feel proud.

    Now that I’m in college, I volunteer as a peer advisor myself. When students come to me panicked about their applications, I tell them what Joanna told me: Start with your voice. That’s what they want to hear.

    The college process isn’t just a rite of passage — it’s an awakening. And while it’s messy and overwhelming, it can also be transformative when you’re not doing it alone.

    If you’re about to begin, remember this: You don’t have to be perfect. You just have to be honest — and open to support. You’re building your future, and you deserve all the help you can get.