Your Kids in Your College? Readers Respond.

Earlier this week, I posted some thoughts on a question a reader asked about how common it is for people who work at colleges or universities to send their own kids there, and what the thought processes behind that decision are. I ended by asking my wise and worldly readers for their thoughts.

I may have mentioned this before, but I have the best readers ever. Folks stepped up.

A reader who works at a very exclusive institution—you’ve heard of it—notes that the question of faculty/staff kids attending hits differently in elite settings.

“I’m moved to write in because the situation with faculty/staff kids as students is totally different at my ultra-elite end of the spectrum (I’m a tenured professor at Prestigious U). Here it’s one of the strongest ‘hooks’ for admission—I think only athletes get a bigger admissions boost than faculty/staff kids—it’s much bigger than legacies, any sort of demographic issue (incl. geography, socioeconomic, or the various now forbidden categories that used to exist). It’s comparable with the boost to kids of eight-figure donors (which is also smaller than for athletes, by the way). I’m shocked at how many of my colleagues’ kids go here. My own daughter swore a mighty oath to go elsewhere, and did so, and thrived at a completely different kind of institution. But the norm seems to be for faculty kids (at least those who meet minimum academic standards) to end up here—in many cases it’s not a good fit and makes everyone miserable. The numbers aren’t large—it’s a tiny fraction of the enrollment—but it’s pretty striking when you see how often it occurs.”

I won’t wade into the points about, well, points—that ground has been thoroughly tilled by others—but the idea of students being kinda/sorta pushed into an institution that isn’t the best fit for them certainly registers. It’s part of why I didn’t push my own kids toward my alma mater. They both had pretty good visions of the kind of education and experience they wanted, and a postcard-pretty New England liberal arts college wasn’t it.

(OK, one point about points: For my money, preference for “legacies” is classist and absurd. Aristocracy is not my thing.)

In defense of liberal arts colleges, though, another reader offered:

“I have been explaining for 2.5 years that our oldest attends a different small private liberal arts college than the one at which I teach, not because my university is inferior in some way (my husband graduated from it and has a great career) but because we don’t offer the majors she chose (creative writing—we don’t have a writing major at all, let alone a B.F.A. in creative writing—and religion). Even when we did, TBH, I suspected my kid wouldn’t choose my university because, like your kids, she’d want to make her own way. We’re a small enough campus and have a relatively unique last name—my kid would clearly be my kid; we also look alike (if you erase my wisdom hairs and laugh lines). Ditto for our youngest, who’s only 14; that kid and I have already discussed the pros and cons of attending my university.”

Makes sense to me. Kids are not extensions of their parents, and they often have strong preferences of their own. For example, my niece wanted a college with a strong animal husbandry program. You’d be surprised how many places don’t have that. It narrowed her list quickly. When a student has a clear programmatic preference that’s somewhat niche, that can work as a sort of first filter. And yes, knowing that everyone knows that you’re so-and-so’s kid could be wearing.

With ya on the laugh lines, BTW.

A dad offers something I’ve heard from my own kids:

“I was teaching at the U of (State) when my two were going to college. They did not attend the university. My daughter did not want to go to a university where her dad taught. My son said, ‘Thirteenth year of high school.’ Most of the high school class was going to the U of (State).

“My son went a bit further than his sister. He visited the Coast Guard Academy before applying for an appointment. A Ph.D. graduate from our ME department was giving him the tour. She turned and asked him what type of engineer he wanted to be. His response was, ‘I don’t want to do that. That’s what my dad does.’ They both graduated. My daughter had a double major in chemistry and peace studies. My son has a journalism degree and an M.B.A. They have their paths.”

This one hits home. Although they both received generous offers from Rutgers, both of my kids refused on what they considered principle. As The Girl put it, “Half of my high school goes there.” That, by itself, was dispositive. I suspect she overestimated the felt presence at a university with tens of thousands of students, but there was no arguing. And the anxiety of parental influence is real, especially at 17. Happily, yes, they both have their paths.

Finally, one reader who sent all three of his kids to his own school offered an alternative question:

“In the current political climate, I do not think having this data would be helpful either to the colleges or our colleagues’ families. Another stat that might be more helpful would be how many alums work at our colleges. That speaks to the quality of their education and dedication to college from where they graduated.”

It’s a great point. Decisions about where to go to college reflect all sorts of factors, many of which are only tangential to the quality of the institution. But when a college is willing to hire its own graduates, particularly to roles higher on the food chain, that speaks either of confidence (good) or provincialism (bad). It’s still complicated, but it’s less complicated.

Thanks to everyone who wrote in! It’s a multifaceted question, and it only gets more so with scrutiny. Thanks to everyone who helped me see different angles on it. And as always, I’m happy to hear from readers at deandad (at) gmail (dot) com.

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