Princeton had always been at the top of my list. My standardized test scores were average. My GPA was decent. I had never once received any recruiting mail from any of the Ivies because my PSAT and other test scores probably didn’t reach the level they were recruiting. They had no idea who I was. I was a public school kid out of Utah, half-hispanic, and ambitious. No one in the Ivy League had ever heard my name.

And that was fine.

So I went to them. I decided to let them know who I was.

My passions through high school were sports, leadership, and technology. I was well involved and had significant achievements in various activities. Through years working with the high school newspaper (Editor-in-Chief), I had acquired publishing and layout skills. Through years of breaking, building, and banging computers (President of computer club), I became proficient on both the hardware and software side of things. I particularly enjoyed web/graphic design and art. So I decided to put together a sweet-diggity-dog portfolio. My photoshop skills would be put to good use.

On the front page of my portfolio I transposed my picture into a photo of the Princeton campus—beautiful gothic arches behind me—hundreds of years of tradition at my fingertips. I put the Princeton logo on my sweatshirt, and in big block letters above the picture, “Dean Fred, I’m ready to be a tiger.”

The rest of the pages in my portfolio (probably about 12 total) included everything and anything about me. It had all sorts of funky pictures of me doing what I enjoyed. It talked about my family. It spoke of my hobbies, interests and passions. It gave samples of my design work, my writing, and my photography. It truly painted the picture of who I was. And I sent it to them.

I wasn’t sure if it would make a difference. But indeed it did. I got the “Yes” letter. And I’m now a Princeton tiger, class of ’09.

I believe that I was accepted into Princeton because I personalized the admissions process. I let them know who I was. The application itself didn’t give justice to what I could do or who I was. So I created something that did. I basically knocked on Princeton’s door and said, “This is who I am. Take me or leave me.”

And it worked.

Unfortunately, not everyone has the resources, skills or opportunities to create such a portfolio and send it; this puts many at a disadvantage. There isn’t a clear process or method to do what I did—to adequately show who they are and what they’re all about. It doesn’t exist.

And that is why I founded Zinch: to level the playing field and to provide a means by which individuality and greatness can be extracted from everyone during the college admissions process. Zinch turns the tables of college admissions, putting the control back in the hands of the student. Every student will now have an equal opportunity to basically say, “This is me. Love me, hate me, recruit me, or trash me. This is who I am.”