At a time when it's more competitive than ever to get into the University of Illinois, some students with subpar academic records are being admitted after interference from state lawmakers and university trustees, a Tribune investigation has revealed.



Hundreds of applicants received special consideration in the last five years, according to documents obtained by the Tribune under the state's Freedom of Information Act. The records chronicle a shadow admissions system in which some students won spots at the state's most prestigious public university over the protests of admissions officers, while others had their rejections reversed during an unadvertised appeal process.In one case, a relative of Antoin "Tony" Rezko, the now-convicted influence peddler for former Gov. Rod Blagojevich, got admitted after U. of I. President B. Joseph White wrote an e-mail stating that the governor "has expressed his support, and would like to see admitted" Rezko's relative and another applicant.



White's message to the university chancellor was passed on to admissions officials on the same day they entered a rejection decision for the Rezko relative. "He's actually pretty low," replied an admissions officer, referring to the applicant's ACT score and other credentials. "Let me know when the denial letter can go out."



Instead, the relative was admitted.



Since 2005, about 800 undergraduate students have landed on the clout list for the Urbana-Champaign campus. It's unknown how many would qualify for entry on their own, but their acceptance rate is higher than average. For the 2008-09 school year, for example, about 77 percent were accepted, compared with 69 percent of all applicants.



That's in spite of the fact that patronage candidates, as a group, had lower average ACT scores and class ranks than all admitted students, records show. In 2008, for example, freshmen on average ranked in the 88th percentile in their high school class, while clouted students ranked in the 76th percentile.



High school counselors and admissions experts said letting clout affect admissions compromises the integrity of the university.



"Whether it's [a Rezko relative] or any other kid who takes a spot, he typically takes a spot of someone who is more qualified. That's the part that gets my blood boiling," said Jim Conroy, a New Trier Township High School college counselor. "This is not a private institution. This is yours and mine. Our flagship state university should not be part of any political shenanigans."



President White said it's not unusual for selective universities to receive input on applicants from interested parties, and it's important to have a system to track the requests. The additional information can help the admissions office make a more informed decision, he said -- though the university discourages applicants from sending letters of recommendations, saying on its Web site that "sending unsolicited materials can be distracting."



He declined to discuss specific cases, including the Rezko relative, but said: "I would never support admission of a student over better-qualified students simply because of connections and pressure."



But the Tribune review of about 1,800 pages of documents shows politically appointed trustees and lawmakers routinely behave as armchair admissions officers advocating on behalf of relatives and neighbors -- even housekeepers' kids and families with whom they share Hawaiian vacations. They declare their candidates "no brainers" for admission and suggest that if they are not accepted, the admissions system may need revamping.



The investigation found:



*University officials recognized that certain students were underqualified -- but admitted them anyway.



*Admissions officers complained in vain as their recommendations were overruled.



*Trustees pushed for preferred students, some of whom were friends, neighbors and relatives.



*Lawmakers delivered admission requests to U. of I. lobbyists, whose jobs depend on pleasing the lawmakers.



*University officials delayed admissions notifications to weak candidates until the end of the school year to minimize the fallout at top feeder high schools.



For example, this spring an applicant described as having "terrible credentials" by the undergraduate admissions office was denied admittance. She sought help from Trustee Frances Carroll, who encouraged her to appeal the denial -- an option not mentioned in rejection letters or any university literature. Carroll forwarded the appeal to University Chancellor Richard Herman and sought his help. The applicant was admitted.



Then, to avoid drawing attention at the applicant's high school, where her acceptance could raise eyebrows, documents show the university planned to wait until the end of the school year to notify the applicant.



Carroll said the Lincoln Park High School senior, whom she didn't know, had a 3.2 grade-point average, participated in many extra-curricular activities and deserved a spot at U. of I. Carroll said she likes to help disadvantaged students who may not understand the system.



Patronage has become such an entrenched part of the admissions process that there's even a name for the applicants with heavy-hitting sponsors: "Category I."



While some trustees and lawmakers said they didn't realize there was a separate category for their requests, the records showed they needed only to forward a name and a few vital statistics to have the student placed in it.



And many did so without reservation.



Trustee Kenneth Schmidt referred to his repeated forwarding of applicant names as an "epidemic" in one 2006 e-mail and asked the chancellor when he could "check up on my crop en masse." Schmidt did not return a call from the Tribune.



Abel Montoya, who oversaw Category I applicants for about five years until he left the university in October, said he watched as denial decisions were overturned.



In a 2008 internal memo, Montoya refers to some Category I applicants as "students who can't get in on their own credentials."



Montoya told the Tribune: "I don't really know the reason or rationale why some decisions were changed. I just knew that it came from someone above, and I wasn't in the position to ask questions."



The university denies that Category I candidates receive extraordinary treatment.



But the man who oversees the undergraduate admissions process acknowledges the system's flaws.



"I do try to work very hard to maintain the integrity of the admissions process," said Keith Marshall, associate provost for enrollment management. "The whole Category I process is a bit of a challenge to me, but I don't believe it is unique to this university."



The system has affected the quality of the student body, records show. In 2006, the Law School's admissions dean argued that admitting a Category I applicant would require the admission of two additional students to offset the impact it would have on the school's ranking.



"There is no track record of success and when [the applicant] is faced with the rigor of our program there is absolutely no reason to expect anything other than failure," wrote Paul Pless, the law admissions dean.



The Tribune is unsure whether the student was admitted because the university did not respond to a request for that information. The university blacked out all references to grades, test scores and class rank, a move the newspaper is appealing under open records laws. It also hid applicant names.



Of the record-setting 26,000 applicants to the University of Illinois this year, 160 were classified as Category I.



In one case, Marshall instructed an admissions counselor to place a student on the waiting list even though she seemed an obvious rejection.



"I know she's fairly weak at Fenwick, but I don't have any wiggle room on this one," he wrote. "Done, but this will look off with the high school," replied admissions officer Jennifer Piercy.



"Understood," Marshall wrote.



Herman said Category I applicants may have a higher rate of admission "simply because we have more information" about them.



"We are a public institution and I think we have to answer to the state and that means those who support us perhaps through their elected representative, the board who is our governing body, and all the parents who call me up. I feel I have to be able to respond," he said.



About half of this year's Category I applicants have ties to state lawmakers, who routinely insert themselves into the admissions process. A 2009 log managed by the university's government affairs office tracked nearly 80 applicants pushed by politicians.



Among those was a New Trier senior whom Illinois Senate President John Cullerton (D- Chicago) wanted admitted. In a February e-mail to Herman, university lobbyist Terry McLennand wrote: "The President thought this students [sic] score seemed a little high for wait list and asked if we could intervene and admit the student at this time rather then [sic] waiting for the April decision date."



Cullerton declined to comment. His district does not extend into New Trier's boundaries. Cullerton's patronage reflects a General Assembly practice that dates back decades, according to lawmakers who engage in it.



Rep. Angelo "Skip" Saviano (R- River Forest) says he learned about the system from veteran legislators shortly after winning election in 1993.



"It has probably been going on for 100 years," he said. "To be honest, I think it helps to let them know that we're watching."



Saviano, who advertises assistance with college applications in his constituent newsletter, ranks among the most prolific Category I patrons. Records show he pushed for at least 20 candidates since 2005, with only four receiving denials.



Trustees, who account for another portion of Category I students, also said they are working on behalf of constituents.



In March 2008, Board of Trustees Chairman Niranjan Shah pushed for a student to be admitted to the rigorous MBA program, even though Chancellor Herman warned that school officials "had serious concerns about his ability to handle the academics" and the student's GPA was "below what is admissible."



"May be [sic] he can be on probation during first year," Shah suggested.



E-mails show that when Shah pressed for a decision before he visited the student's family in India, the business school relented and offered the applicant a spot.



Shah said late Thursday that he did not know the student or his family. He said the family reached out to him because they wanted to be sure the admissions office was aware of the complex grading systems used at some Indian universities, including the one the student attended.



Trustee Lawrence Eppley said he forwards requests regardless of whether he knows the applicants and said he tries to "demystify" the application process for students. He said family friends have been denied admission -- which he says is proof that he doesn't have influence in decisions.



"If you talk to my friends, they would say: 'He's not very good at this,'" Eppley said.



Still, the majority of applicants who are denied through regular channels do not have the support of those in power -- and never considered trying an end-run around the process.



Andy Wethekam, a York Community High School student who thought he would follow in his father's footsteps and attend U. of I., was denied admission to its business school this year despite earning a 31 on the ACT and a 4.1 grade-point average.



"It was pretty much a foregone conclusion I would go to Illinois," Wethekam said.



He did not appeal the denial. He didn't know he could.



"They never advertise that," said Wethekam, who is heading to Indiana University this fall.



His father, Tom Wethekam, chalked up the maneuverings to business as usual in Illinois.



"If you know somebody, good things happen to you in the state of Illinois on a lot of different fronts," the father said. "I look at this as an extension of all that."



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