We knew this day would come--emerging after years of acclimatizing to DNA sampling and exploration in the private sector. It seemed even as the next logical step. Of course DNA data would factor into university and college life in the United States--why wouldn't it?

For Kari, the experience of the DNA-fueled university began from the moment she applied for college. The unified federal application now required the submission of a test tube of saliva (or, if you had already submitted DNA to a private service, such as Ancestry or 23andMe, you could opt-in to have those companies share the data with the federal university application organization and receive expedited consideration). It wasn't totally clear how her DNA data would be used, she noted, but it was a required part of applying for college and so she submitted her saliva like everyone else.

After three months, Kari received her college placement options. She was lucky to have her choice of a small liberal arts college in the midwest or a larger mid-tier (but academics-focused) university in the south. Some of her friends, she knew, did not receive options--they were assigned based on the right "fit" for them. It was not clear how much "fit" included your own choices--you were certainly asked to share your academic and career goals, along with preferences for what type of college experience you wanted, but there was never, it seemed, a perfect match based on your goals and preferences. Kari wondered if her DNA sample played a role in her options.

She chose the small college and was pleased to see how many campus experiences felt tailored just for her. Her roommate was a perfect match for her; her first-year orientation house gelled quickly and stayed connected throughout the first year of class. The college bookstore knew exactly what coupons to send ahead of parents' weekend, and her personalized meals kept her feeling alert and ready for study. Kari knew some of this personalization was based on data collected by her college--the college internet agreement she accepted clearly stated that her purchasing habits and social connections would be monitored to provide the best college experience possible. She again wondered whether and how much her DNA sample was part of that data.

Should she care? She was loving her experience and she was learning so much. But once in a while, the deep personalization felt...invasive. It felt restrictive. And she had seen some of her friends being tormented, rather than supported, by what the personalization engines had decided for them. She wondered, more than once, if the personalization would someday begin to feel less like a benefit and more like a curse?