This is for high school seniors and their parents.

I’ve noticed something that should reassure you if you’re anxiously awaiting a letter from the admissions department of some elite college or university. Such letters are being received this week, and most of them will bring disappointing news.

Brown University, for example, rejected nine out of ten high school seniors applying for admission there this spring, the highest percentage ever. Notre Dame rejected four out of five.

But if you are turned down by a prestigious school, here’s good news: it won’t matter in the long run.

Since leaving high school eons ago, I’ve done some hiring and firing.

At first, the schools an applicant had attended affected my hiring decisions. But I later had to fire some employees who had gone to the best schools.

Other factors, I learned, are more important.

For the last 20 years of my working life, I hardly noticed where an applicant had gone to school.

You can get a good education at almost any college or university if that’s what you’re there for. Or you can goof off anywhere and leave the place no smarter than when you arrived.

If I were hiring today, except for new college graduates, I’d base my decision on what the applicant had done since graduating.

If he applied himself in school, it will show later on.

Here’s an anecdotal example of what I mean. During my 40 years as a parish priest, I had seven assisting priests at the parishes where I served.

The worst one (lazy, complaining, disloyal, thought he knew more than he did) had degrees from two Ivy League schools. The best (solidly grounded, common sense, loyal, good people skills) had graduated from the University of Alabama (I won’t mention names here, but he’s now the rector of St. Paul’s Episcopal Church in Foley).

Some people try to come across as perfect in a job interview. Since I know no one is perfect, I’m wary of such people.

Here are some questions I’d ask if I were interviewing to fill a position today: Where have you failed and what did you learn from it?

Of the five parishes where I’ve served as rector, I was (or at least thought I was) successful and loved in four of them.

In the other one, I crashed and burned. But I learned more valuable lessons in that other parish than in the other four combined. Failure causes us to take stock, re-evaluate, grow, learn new skills and ways of doing things.

Success is more pleasant, but failure is more valuable. I want to work with people who have failed and learned from it.

What do you still need to learn?

If you think you know everything, I don’t want you working for me.

I once had an assistant who tried to correct my grammar, punctuation, and capitalization.

Did she not know that I had spent much of my life as a professional editor, correcting other people’s grammar, punctuation, and capitalization? She refused to learn anything new because she thought she didn’t need to, and it wasn’t just about her writing.

Her unwillingness to learn meant she couldn’t put to good use even the skills she did possess. I had to fire her.

Have you ever turned down or left a higher paying job for one you knew you’d love? It’s about values.

If your life goals are to acquire a swanky office, big house, fancy car, and bulging stock portfolio, don’t ask me for a job. Someone who works just for the paycheck will cut corners, but someone who works for the love of it will give her heart and soul to her work.

Have you ever told your boss something he didn’t want to hear? That can be risky.

Some bosses fire staff members who deliver unwanted news. But I’ve learned to listen to other people. They’re not always right any more than I am, but they often see what I don’t see, things I’d be wise to take account of.

I want people working for me who will tell me how they perceive things, including my own behavior, even if hearing it makes me squirm. Richard H.

Schmidt is a retired Episcopal priest, editor and author who lives in Fairhope. He can be reached at courier@gulfcoastnewspapers.com.