But understandable. Higher education has undergone a social revolution. In 1940 the college-going rate among 17-year-olds was roughly 15 percent (usually upper crust). Amazingly, Harvard once had an open-admissions policy. “We admitted all those who applied and met the admissions requirements,” the university said in 1953. Of course, the standards were socially skewed; most Ivy League students came from prep schools.
Now higher education has been democratized–and commercialized. The college-going rate approaches 50 percent. Families buy guides, take tutorials, hire consultants–almost anything to get into Neiman Marcus, not Wal-Mart. Meanwhile, colleges eagerly market themselves. They bombard applicants with brochures and come-ons: look at our fabulous SAT scores, Nobel Prize-winning professors and beautiful buildings. The process plunges teens into the random insecurity, competitiveness and status-seeking of adult life. We parents (more experienced and wiser, we think) imagine we can help them navigate this terrain. Up to a point, we can–but the point is hard to locate and easy to cross.
The lesson: how parents and children deal with each other may matter more than the final result. Some colleges may be better than others, but students who are ready for college–emotionally and intellectually–will do well wherever they go, or they’ll go elsewhere. Parents shouldn’t push their choices too forcefully. That risks too many fights and scars.
Our daughter made this fairly easy. She took responsibility for her choices and applications. We ferried her to colleges, read her essays and–of course–nagged. She listened to what we had to say, without always following our advice. Toward the end, when the anxiety and nagging rose, she told me: “Until a month ago, you were OK.” I took that as a compliment, but it probably wasn’t.
