In Defense of Competitive Colleges, and the Wizard of Oz

A friend on mine posted Frank Bruni's recent article "How to Survive the College Admittance Madness" from The New York Times on Facebook.  I agree with all of the points about how one's future, destiny and happiness is not determined by where one goes to college.  Or if one goes to college.  I agree that a child's worth should not be determined by where they get accepted.  I agree that many parents are crazy, and I think it is tragic that they think they have failed if their child doesn't get into an Ivy League.  I know lots of colleges are about branding and marketing and selling a label.  I've read Malcolm Gladwell's (or was it Steven Levitt's?) analysis of kids succeeding in science depending on where they went to college.  (Spoiler:  Most kids interested in science in high school who went to competitive colleges bailed on science and ended up majoring in economics.)

I happened to be reading Sheryl Sandberg's Lean In on the same day that I read Bruni's article, and I had a massive case of cognitive dissonance.  While I haven't read the whole book yet, Sandberg encourages girls and woman to work towards leadership positions.  Don't take the easy path -- look for challenges.  Have faith that you can be a leader.  She isn't saying "You must go to Harvard," but she encourages and supports ambitious women.

I went to a college with a very competitive entrance process, so I have mixed feelings about all of this.  First, I wanted to go to a competitive college.  This was all driven by me, not my parents.  Having gone to a competitive college, I can't imagine anything worse than not wanting to be there.  It would be torture, and I knew it.  I am glad people want to be Marines, firemen and ambulance drivers.  I could not withstand the physical and psychological pressure of those jobs.  Likewise, I don't think it is fair for parents to push their kids into something that does not fit their personality.

I liked where I went to college.  I was happy there and made great friends.   I had a challenging and rigorous major.  I worked my butt off.  I landed a good job after graduation.  Would I have made friends, worked hard, and learned a lot at a state school?  Probably.  So what was the difference?

Like Sandberg, when I was growing up in the 1970's, I was given the strong impression that girls had four choices of a career:

1.  Teacher
2.  Nurse
3.  Mom
4.  Nun*

Here was the list for boys:

1.  Doctor
2.  Lawyer
3.  Astronaut
4.  Policeman
5.  Fireman
6.  Accountant
7.  Senator
8.  President of a company
9.  Electrician
10.  Painter
11.  Bricklayer
12. Engineer
13. Architect
14.  Major sports star, and so on...

While I respect teachers and nurses, I couldn't see myself in either profession.  Being a mom wasn't high on my list, so nun made it to the top.  Sister Mary Lou would come over for lunch and she was hilarious.  Sister Barbara was a badass, super feminist nun.  She had all of the qualifications to be a priest should the Pope give the green light to ordain women.  She was awesome.  Who wouldn't want to grow up to be like Sister Barbara?  At some point, I discovered boys, and a life without male companionship didn't seem appealing.  I had to figure out something else.  I knew I wanted to do something important and meaningful, but I had no idea what that looked like.

So I went to college.  My senior year, I remember my dad taking me to college night for my now alma mater.  I have to admit I really liked the picture of the windsurfer gliding along the lake in the first slice of the presentation, but I liked the rest of the presentation, too.  An admission officer was there, and I asked question after question.  My dad and I were the last people there.  At the end, I turned to my dad and said, "This is it.  I want to go here."

It wasn't so simple after I was accepted.  My dad was fine with my choice; my mother wasn't.  First, she wanted me to go to a different college.  Second, she had a problem with me attending a school that was so expensive.  "Why spend all of that money if you are someday just going to be a stay-at-home mom?  I don't need the mother of my grandchildren to be that educated."  My dad, however, saw the glow in my eyes during the college night meeting.  There was no further discussion if I should go or not.  I signed the acceptance letter and my dad mailed in the check.

Fast forward to my second job after college.  I worked in the consulting branch of a major accounting firm.  I was one of two women in a group of about ten, not counting the secretaries.  I was the youngest person in the group by seven years.  I was intimidated, and at times afraid to open my mouth, because of both my age and gender.  During one meeting, I had an idea, something worth sharing with the group of all men who were older than me.  The idea bounced back and forth in my mind of a few minutes, before I got the courage to speak.  I thought, "I went to a competitive college.  I am not an intellectual slouch.  I could be wrong, but I might be right."  With that thought, I straightened my back and spoke my mind.  I felt like the scarecrow in the Wizard of Oz.  I know I had brain, but it was nice that an large institution thought I did, too.  I leaned back on my diploma and leaned into the meeting.  It was my shot of confidence in the real world.

While I think the college admissions process has probably gotten out of control, there is something to be said for leaning in, and going to the best college that meets your interests.  We shouldn't shy away from a challenge, or for trying something that is hard.  That is true for many things in life, not just applying to college.

I think of all of this when I think of my daughter.  She wants to go to school in New York, and I am all for it.  I want her to go to the most challenging place she can go.  I want her to have that boost of confidence that I had.

And then I think of the Boy.  Like my mother's double-standard, I have one, too, but it is different.  With my daughter, I follow Sandberg.  With my son, I follow Bruni.  I think the Boy will be fine and succeed wherever he goes.  He is more unconventional than my daughter.  She tries hard at everything; my son puts in an extraordinary amount of effort into things he is passionate about.  The rest gets his leftover attention.  He knows his direction, and follows his compass.

Isn't that all the more reason I should let him follow his dreams, even if they take him to a fancy college?

____
* Sandberg is Jewish, so she likely had three choices.