<p>The main reservations I have about an “elite” reservation is when it is not a match with the individual child. This is not an issue that selective schools alone present. Though most good students can do well anywhere, sometimes a school just turns out to be the wrong choice for any number of reasons. If that happens, it can lead to dropping out, unhappiness, exacerbate mood disorders, etc. It seems to happen less at the top schools as the graduation and return rates are very high for them, but it does happen. A top student who has always been so successful at school, never been in trouble may find himself lost at college, and afraid to say that he needs to leave when everyone is telling him what a prize he got, getting into HPY, etal. Because fewer kids do drop out of these schools, the stigma can be greater. There is that pride, ego thing that can really get in the way.</p>
<p>Another problem I have seen is when parents and family go all out financially to pay for this “elite” school to the point that the pressure is very high to achieve there since everything is counting on it. A family that really should not be putting $50K+ in a college education each year might do it for that status symbol and this can put stress, not only financially on the family but also emotionally. If the money does not “pay back”, that can lead to a lot of hard feelings. I know a young man who joined “Teach America” after graduating from an ivy, and his parents nearly disowned them. They had it in their heads that he was going to land a glorious, high paying job after grabbing that golden ring of a college and after everyone sacrificed so much for him to go there.</p>
<p>Which leads to another drawback: the expectations. There are more expectations for those students who go to elite schools. I know about this first hand as a SAHM who went to a top college. At my reunions, I was virtually the only alum without some sort of career. My brother who went to one of the “elites” is obsessed with a “hobby” that takes up a lot of time and as a result his job is not one you would associate with graduates from such schools as it has to accomodate his main activity and the life style he has chosen. My other brother chose to retire early and be a Mr Mom to small children that he and his wife had late in life. People are shocked that he is doing this, given his three degrees and background.</p>
<p>It was difficult for me to get past the beginning of the piece, where the author finds himself at a loss as to how to speak to a plumber. If he can’t speak to a plumber (or the person behind the counter at the 7-Eleven or the cashier at the grocery store …) it’s not the fault of his “elite” education. Sheesh. What a dumb thing to say!</p>
<p>And as an alum of one of those universities, I disagree. Going to the school that I did knocked the arrogance and snobbery out of me, built up my social skills so that I wasn’t a bad stereotype of the socially clueless nerd, and made me much better able to relate to people in general. It was one of the best things about it.</p>
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<p>Yes, this is it, exactly. Being a big fish in a little pond lends itself to arrogance, even if you don’t realize that you’re being arrogant and didn’t mean to. Being a little/medium-sized fish in a big pond is humbling.</p>
<p>IMO, any helpful points the author made were far outweighed, as sewhappy put it so well, by ‘lowbrow stereotyping.’ Throughout much of the article, I just kept thinking “speak for yourself, fella.” </p>
<p>What a shame to hear he taught at Yale for 10 years. Wonder if he ever indicated to his students what pathetic positions they’d put themselves in by attending there. </p>
<p>He writes “There’s a reason elite schools speak of training leaders, not thinkers.” Says who?? And b*tching about locked gates at Yale? If he can’t speak with his plumber, chances are it’s because he’s a jerk. He should stop whining, place the blame for his own shortcomings where it belongs, and do his best to remedy his situation.</p>
<p>This was rubbish. The author wants to blame his social inadequacies on his “elite” education? Allow me to offer up the following story:</p>
<p>I have a friend whose brother-in-law is a plumber and was hired to do some repairs and renovations in a weekend house in New England. The home was owned by an older man who went out of his way to make the workers as comfortable as possible. The man had lunch brought in for them daily, kept the refrigerator stocked with drinks, and even offered them the use of his pool (it was in the middle of a heat wave in July). The man was also a big baseball fan and would talk with the workers during their breaks about last night’s game or whatever. </p>
<p>After the job was completed, the plumber was having dinner with his family and mentioned the “nice guy” for whom he had just finished working. It was only when he mentioned the man’s name to my friend that he learned that the “nice guy” was an extremely famous composer (and graduate of a top LAC).</p>
<p>this article has nothing to do with social skills. It’s about class issues and the psychological limitations imposed on a person who goes to or teaches at a top school. A lot of anecdotes posted here aren’t addressing this greater message and are irrelevant. Who cares if you know a rich plumber, or if you and your milkman chat on a regular basis? The small fish in big ivy pond commentary doesn’t fit either. This God and Jerk at Yale story is speaking to/about prospective and current undergrads, not those reflecting on their college/professional experience decades later
I attend one of these schools and it got serious attention in the low income and immigrant communities. Minority student groups also circulated it on listservs, in town hall meetings etc. People DO worry about going off to the fancy schools and not being able to relate when they come back home.
What I see in this thread is personal catharsis- just because you aren’t like the author (whoopie for you) doesn’t mean it isn’t a relevant, insightful piece.</p>
<p>I really liked the God and Jerk at Yale article. Our child has to choose from among some top institutions, and it brings up ideas that I hadn’t thought about.</p>
<p>While the class issues may be most pertinant to the Ivies, I suspect they also occur at all expensive private schools.</p>
<p>Professor’s seeing their students as distractions to their real work could be an issue at all research institutions, including top state schools. I attended a school where all my professors had to do research, but I never felt like they did not give themselves adequately to the undergrads.</p>
<p>In looking back, though, I was in a small program at a large school. The benefit of being in that small program was that the professors always seemed to be seeking disciples for that field, and were especially encouraging.</p>
<p>Whichever school our child chooses, I think they need to walk into college having thought about the ideas discussed in these articles. We let them skip those SAT/ACT prep classes, but they should at least be aware of class issues so that they can laugh inside when they encounter them.</p>
<p>Not necessarily. I did not know any “package kids” at the one I know best. This was >30 years ago and it was not an Ivy League school. </p>
<p>I did know some kids with remarkable abilities.
However, I’d say we were much more likely to know each others’ SAT scores than anything about family wealth or social status. One-upmanship, yes, but of a different nature. At first it was intimidating if, like me, you had no demonstrable claim to brilliance. But then, when we found ourselves in class discussing some eternal question (“What is justice?”), it quickly became apparent (in hindsight anyway!) how equal we were in our youthful capacity to say something stupid or irrelevant. </p>
<p>Moreover, there were no secret societies (unless they were really secret). There were only a few fraternities; hardly anyone cared about them. The school was (and is) run by the faculty not by a class of professional administrators, which I think translated into a greater focus on the its academic mission not on its social prestige.</p>
<p>Perhaps it is equally important to note that the converse is also true in that most plumber are unlikely to engage educated people in real meaningful conversations. The issue, at least to me, is not on the nature of education in elite schools but the widening division of education among different social classes.</p>
<p>It’s not just that I am not like the author, it’s that almost none of the people I know from my elite school (who come from class backgrounds across the spectrum) are anything like the author. I asked around in the wake of this thread, and the author’s greater message about elite schools does not reflect our experience at an elite school, or our experiences relating to our families, or being part of the “real world” after graduation and relating to people who didn’t go to elite schools or any college at all.</p>
<p>Now, I’m sure this varies between elite schools. I didn’t go to Yale, I don’t know Yale’s community. I can’t speak to the effects of Yale. But the article is extrapolating to the effects of elite schools in general, and I just don’t think that all elite schools have these effects.</p>
<p>I agree with Jessie. Additionally, It’s not whether or not I like the author, though he does take pains to describe himself in pretty unlikable terms. What bothered me was his endeavor to excuse those unlikable traits as being the responsibility of a particular outside source, rather than himself, as if he has no responsibility himself.</p>
<p>Yes, we have to wonder whether the author has ever assimilated scientifically accurate or psychologically frank processes of reasoning about his personal experience and how it relates to the experiences of others.</p>
<p>Ariana 12: thanks for posting the essay by Rachel Toor: set it next to the first essay by the former Yale Assoc. Prof., and you have a perfect illustration of the difference between good writing and bad writing, rehearsing a bunch of tired cliches in the hope of telling your reader what he wants to hear (while pretending to be “daring”) vs. providing the gentle shock of recognition of truth, or reality, or something that we may not be totally comfortable thinking about.</p>
<p>As I think I remember Rachel Toor wrote a similarly discomforting book about her years as a Duke admissions person; really one of the most interesting of the genre.</p>