On the day after Thanksgiving, while most future Princeton applicants were sleeping, my 16-year-old daughter was preparing to report at 4 a.m. to her sales job and the madness of Black Friday — without a parent to drive her. She didn’t mind; she likes the independence and rewards that earning her own money brings, the ability to buy a smartphone and fancy sneakers that she wouldn’t get otherwise.
She’s a successful young woman, with high grades, diverse musical and artistic talents, and leadership positions. She limits her advanced courses to the academic subjects that truly interest her, which gives her time to spend on the art classes she loves. She takes time to build a meaningful social life. She was recommended for participation in a prestigious art program, but because of the distance and her parents’ work commitments, she could not attend.
And Black Friday was not the only day she went to work. For the past seven months, she has worked 20 to 25 hours a week at minimum wage at a local shoe store.
Still, when it came time for her to start applying to college, I advised: Don’t waste your time applying to top schools.
My growing concerns about college admission were crystallized by two recent articles in The New York Times. The first, a finely articulated piece by Stony Brook University professor Neil Gabler (“One Percent Education”), lamented the harnessing of our finest universities by the economic elite. The second article, headlined “Bracing for $40,000 at New York City Private Schools,” described the ballooning tuition along with the growing number of applications and consulting firms charging more than $20,000 for admission advice.
What do these stories have to do with each other? Well, everything. As one mother quoted in the article about private schools remarked, parents evaluate schools based on their success at getting students into prestigious colleges. These days, I fear that admission requirements at top colleges have reached the point where students who don’t have elaborately financed résumés and top-tier academic preparation cannot compete. And while I support my daughter’s choices, I’m concerned about the loss of choice for many youngsters from lower- or middle-income families for whom responsibilities such as paid work, caring for younger siblings or older relatives, and helping at home effectively eliminate the time available to pursue elite activities that now seem to be required.
I have been on the Princeton Alumni Schools Committee for at least 10 years, and have interviewed applicants in several states. I always ask if the student ever held a job for pay; never has the answer been yes. While my sample may not be typical, it is clear that paid work is not high on the list of elite-college contenders. This is indeed a sad reflection on the qualities that top colleges seek. Working at a real job — the kind where the bosses don’t care what you think, you must deal with rude and harassing managers and customers, and you get fired if you show up late or need time off — is a valuable life experience. Keeping such a job requires higher-level executive functioning, social skills, and persistence. The experience differs from finding a boutique opportunity through family contacts, or paying to work as a “counselor in training” at a summer camp.
Today’s successful Princeton applicant often is the product of single-minded pursuit of a strong résumé and substantial parental sacrifice that is well beyond the type of attention to their children’s education that parents historically have provided. This investment of time and money has become a filter that excludes the vast majority of our talented youth: Most American families cannot afford $5,000 for “leadership” training, overseas eco-volunteer trips, student ambassadorships, or summer academic camps.
The statistics of attendance by students from “middle-income” families also are misleading. When one parent’s income can support a family comfortably, the second parent — typically, the mother — can leave the workforce to dedicate herself to her children’s needs, shuttling them to lessons, tutors, and sporting activities. Such parents become the “band parents,” school-play producers, and assistant coaches; serve on committees; and engage in activities designed to further their children’s interests. The economic investment of these families may not be transparent, but is real nonetheless. On paper, such a family might well have the same “middle income” as one in which both parents work in average-wage jobs, whose children fend for themselves or babysit siblings after school. The families’ incomes may be similar; their situations are not.
Princeton’s generous financial aid is to be applauded, but here again the statistics can be misleading. According to University statistics, 58 percent of students in the Class of 2014 receive financial aid — but that aid can extend to families earning as much as $200,000 per year. Still, nearly half the class does not qualify for — or has not applied for — aid.
I doubt that people like my sister (Class of 1984) and I would have a chance to attend a top college today. We worked weekends and summers throughout high school, had no access to Advanced Placement classes, and our extracurricular activities were limited to the offerings at our undistinguished local high school. Something along the way has shifted dramatically, and the result is winnowing of opportunity that starts long before students are old enough to apply to college.
I do not profess to any knowledge of the mysterious inner workings of the admission office, and only can imagine how difficult it must be to sift through the mountain of talent vying for such few spots. I cannot suggest how the selection process could be shifted to consider criteria beyond the constellation of expensive achievements. I only know that this résumé arms race should be reversed.
Princeton has been a part of my identity for nearly 35 years. In addition to interviewing applicants, I have missed very few of my 30 reunions, participated on a campus career panel, and worked on a major reunion. But what is the meaning of “Princeton in the nation’s service?” It is not just about the works of the Princeton community; it also must be about who can become the community.
Princeton has a record of leadership in promoting opportunity. Endowment funds are dedicated to financial aid. Tenure requirements have been modified to support young parents. Early-action protocols have been adjusted to include those who need to consider finances later in the process. These are hallmarks of an institution that values fairness and social evolution. It is time for Princeton to take the lead to ensure that the best education, with all that it confers, can be attained across our socioeconomic spectrum.
I am not worried about my daughter. She will go on to receive a fine education at a public university and make a success of her life by virtue of her own qualities. I do worry, however, about the future of the society that she and all of our children are growing up into. The next generation’s leaders should include young people whose first lessons in success came from achieving balance in their lives — and yes, perhaps from selling shoes.
Tamara Sorell ’81 is a scientist living in Groton, Mass.