No matter what Erikson section men may say, until senior year having an identity crisis is just an excuse for problems like breaking up with your high school girl because she wore white gloves all through Jubilee weekend, even the night you went to the Waldorf. The real identity crisis is produced by the questions asked on senior applications--"The Curriculum Vitae should be a picture of yourself as an individual..."

At the beginning of the year, your tutor tells you that all application forms are essentially the same, and that they are time-consuming but not at all difficult. Believe this advice as much as you would similar remarks about theses.

First of all, application forms don't even look alike. The Fulbright applications, administered by the State Department, come in pastel (jungle?) green. Moreover, they come in quadruplicate. One explanation is that a panel of four experts will be reading the applications simultaneously; another is that the government figures that three of them will be lost forever in files.

The forms themselves make an income tax report look as easy to fill out as the front of a bluebook. And, like some exam proctors, whoever writes the Fulbright application kindly reminds you to look the exam over before beginning: at the top of one of the large green forms is a list of all the little sub-forms which you should include: "Reminder: A complete application consists of 4 copies of this form / 1 language report / 4 letters of reference / 1 certificate of health / all transcripts / 1 5x8 record card / 1 3x5 index card / 1 identification label / 5x8 card for applicant in creative and performing arts / 4 photographs / 1 information sheet / 1 5x8 State Dept. record card." (Perhaps the titles given to the last two forms on the list--actually quite innocuous--are meant to discourage SDSers and other Commie types from applying. The same unconscious desire may have led the Danforth Foundation to name the representatives of their program "Liaison Officers.")

Rag to Vellum

The Marshall form is indubitably printed on lower grade paper than the newsprint on which the creation of these fellowships was originally announced. This is particularly apparent in contrast to the vellum-like bound used for Henry Fellowship applications. Your fingers may be too calloused from typing to ascertain whether the words are really embossed, but it's at least an even bet.

Graduate school admissions and fellowship applications reflect similar differences in outlook. That IBM-atmosphere they were rioting about is reflected in the stark simplicity and, perforated, EZ-to-process, pages of Berkeley's form. As for Harvard's GSAS form, its appearance would enthrall any student of the visual arts: at least five different kinds of type reflect the level of significance of various questions. Xeroxed and informally stapled at the corners, Wellesley's graduate fellowship form reflects the combination of casualness and warmth which characterizes afternoon teas at their best.

The differences in appearance of the various forms foreshadow the deeper contrasts of their content. For instance, the Wilson, a one-year fellowship for students who are seriously considering a career in college teaching, encourages future teachers in psychological as well as financial ways: there is a personal, strolling-together through-the-groves-of-academe quality to all of the Wilson forms. All correspondence comes from, and is to be addressed to, the Chairman of your Regional Committee--not to an anonymous committee.

Thus all students in the Boston area receive with their applications a letter which ends: "I shall be glad to furnish you with any additional information you require, or you may write to the National Director, Dr. Hans Rosenhaupt. Sincerely, H. Ronald Rowse." Three personal pronouns in the first thirteen words. Of course, you will mail your application directly to Professor Rowse, and the fact that his address is "Mathematics Department / Pearson Hall" reminds you that you are corresponding with a scholar, not an administrator. Moreover, around the time you receive your Wilson application forms--but under separate cover--you receive a letter from the national director congratulating you on being nominated for a Wilson by a member of the academic profession: "You must be proud to know that a member of the academic community thinks of you as a potential future colleague."

On the other hand, the Henry Fellowship's approach to your life and works is about as stiff as the paper on which the form is printed--no vague statements for them. While the Henry has a standard question about college activities and honors, it also includes a separate question about high school activities and interests. (Of course, the Henry also differs from most application in that it inquires about your preparatory--not secondary--school.) Perhaps they want to see if it's been all downhill after you made Arista. But if you've been secretly nursing your pride in your 4-H awards for four years, now is the time to bring to light the bushels you've been hiding.

Pinkos Begone

The Rotary Clubs, which require of their fellowship applicants a signed statement that one is not connected with any Communist organizations, reflect their preoccupations in a key question--"If you are awarded a Rotary Foundation Fellowship for International Understanding, how, specifically, do you think it will benefit you and others? (Limit response to 200 words)."

Perhaps the concept of the multiversity includes a degree of chauvinism: the Berkeley application asks how long one has been a resident of California. (For that matter, the first page features a huge grid in which one is supposed to summarize one's attendance at the University of California; later one discovers a smaller box for attendance at other universities.) Although Harvard may feel unduly proud of the internationalism implied in the directive that "the enclosed application should be completed in English," one should point out another type of broad-mindedness: the application asks one to list "secondary and preparatory schools."

The faculty members and physicians who say that you are of sound enough mind, and body to, say, enter graduate school face the same challenge in filling out forms that you do. The same passion for a complete, readable overview which leads the State Department to describe the Curriculm Vitae as a "narrative statement giving a pic- ture of yourself as an individual" may motivate its instructions to your doctor ("Comment in full on cranial nerves, motor status and coordination, reflexes, and equilibrium and indicate if the applicant has ever suffered from seizure").

The Fulbright form asks for just as complete a picture of a different sort of reflexes and equilibrium: "In evaluating the applicant, please indicate your opinion of his personal and academic and professional qualifications for study abroad, and whether or not you feel the study plan is feasible and timely in terms of his preparation and promise of future growth. Your opinion regarding the applicant's ability to adjust to new and perhaps difficult living situations is especially desired."

To the imaginative faculty member this must imply many questions. "Which side of the anti-American demonstrations will the applicant be on?" Or, "What determines whether one is personally qualified to live abroad? Flexibility, acceptance of other ways of life... all the qualities for which the State Department itself is so justly known."

The Wilson letters of recommendation contrive the same fraternal note which runs through the application form. Professor H. Ronald Rowse writes a note which begins "Dear Colleague" and emphasizes that one is free to disregard the recommendation form and simply write a letter.

Diametrically opposed to the Regional Chairman's warm camaraderie is the inhumane approach to the Marshall Fellowship forms. The Marshall asks for each recommendation in sextuplicate. Not even Harvard faculty members like to repeat their own words that many times. In any event, it is encouraging that at least one faculty member includes with his Marshall recommendation forms a recommendation for revising the Marshall forms....

But graduate school recommendations offer a different type of challenge to the faculty member championing your cause. He is asked to rank such qualities as "native intellectualability" along a scale which, depending on the university, may have the relaxed simplicity of "above average, average, or below average," or the scientific exactness of "top 1-2 per cent..."

Of course, if the people who are recommending you do check the most flattering boxes on the grid and your essays do indeed place your life and interests in the top 1-2 per cent, you may get into graduate school and/or win the fellowship. But don't rejoice prematurely--remember, the army sends out its congratulatory letters before you even bother to fill out the forms