Shelley Arakawa remembers how popular her father, Myron, was when she was a grade schooler in Honolulu. “Everywhere we went, we were stopped. You’d think Dad was running for mayor because so many people shook hands and chatted.”

Was Myron a rock musician? Star athlete?

Try college counselor.

Myron’s work enveloped his family so much that Shelley, who’d grown enchanted with college campuses, took a part-time job at Dartmouth College’s admissions office as an undergraduate there. When that became full-time work after graduation, Shelley got hooked on the profession for good, inspired by the chance to expand educational access for underprivileged students.

The Arakawas are among two-generation families working in college admissions, recruiting and counseling at U.S. universities and high schools. Exact numbers aren’t known but they’re plentiful enough that professional development conferences occasionally feature panel discussions on the topic.

Michael Sexton, the Santa Clara University vice president for enrollment management, says children of such families learn about the parent’s work. As a 20-year veteran of college recruiting and admissions, he believes the work has a cyclical ebb and flow. His daughter, Lauren, used to alphabetize hard-copy applicant files as a child. Young Lauren tolerated her father’s 12-weeks’ worth of out-of-town recruiting trips every fall because it meant getting free hotel toiletries once he came home. By the time she reached adolescence, she grasped that his business travel meant frequent flier miles for family vacations.

“As our kids get older,” Michael says, “they learn what all our travel is for, what the applicant files mean for kids wanting an education, and they get interested in the admissions process.” Today, Lauren Formo is transitioning into college counseling at a private middle/high school in Kirkland, Wash., although she remains associate director of admissions there.

Indeed, Shelley recalls “high school kids calling our house at all hours” asking for Myron. Some youths wanted last-minute help meeting college deadlines. But in other cases, circumstances were more dire. Some students had parents in and out of prison, rendering them on the brink of homelessness with little idea how to stay in school, much less shop for colleges. “We lived on campus, and college kids returning for visits would pull me aside to say they wouldn’t have gone to college if it weren’t for my dad,” Shelley says.