There aren’t many positive things to be said about the recent college admissions scandal — you know, the one where rich (and in some cases, famous) parents used their considerable wealth in criminal ways, strong-arming their average children into top-tier schools — but one thing I can say is that for me and my high school senior, Lila, it was extremely well timed. The scandal hit headlines just as schools began sending out decision letters. Felicity Huffman, Lori Loughlin and dozens of other parents allegedly bribed coaches to secure athletic scholarships, paid off test proctors in order to hike up middling SAT scores, and in at least one case, even photoshopped a kid’s head onto the photo of another student athlete’s body to make it look like they excelled at a sport they did not even play, all in the name of getting into schools like Duke, Stanford and Yale.
When I read the news report out loud to Lila, I started laughing out loud. It felt ridiculous — helicopter parenting to the nth degree. Clearly, I’d been playing this game all wrong by, you know, not bribing anyone with the half million dollars I don’t have, and not sending in doctored photos of Lila brandishing a field hockey stick — never mind that her school doesn’t have a field hockey team. And after I stopped laughing, I seized on what I saw as a golden opportunity to reframe things for my kid. We knew Lila would be hearing back from colleges soon, and everyone was on pins and needles. “You see?” I said. “The game is rigged. Don’t take it personally if a school rejects you.”
Almost immediately I realized my mistake. I was right when I told her the game is rigged, but mostly it’s rigged in her favor. Even many of us with very modest financial means still have had a leg up. I don’t know anyone who bribed any college administrators, but I certainly do know people who have hired admissions counselors or paid for test-prep courses. Lila even had a professional writer look over her essays (but I promise I only fixed typos!). There’s no shame in this, but let’s not delude ourselves: Those of us who can take part in these services are taking part in a game, too. It’s not anything like the high-stakes version that Huffman and Loughlin played, but it’s still a game, there are still winners and losers.
I’m not even touching upon the advantages that fall under the basic category of privilege. Kids like mine have multiple perks simply because of who their parents are: college educated, with knowledge of the higher education system and the confidence to navigate it. We know how to fill out financial aid forms (well, kind of). We have the time and resources to take our children on the occasional college trip, allowing them to fulfill the all-important mission of “demonstrating interest.” That’s what makes the scandal all the more scandalous: The kids whose parents were pulling the strings already have everything going for them.
In the end, Lila did receive rejection letters. But she also received acceptances, delivered (as they are these days) via bright, flashing-lettered emails. She rejoiced, and I rejoiced with her — mostly because I’m thrilled for her, of course, but also because for us, the admissions process is over, at least until a couple of years from now, when it’s her sister’s turn. Even if I strike it rich before then, I’m quite certain I won’t be bribing any administrators. Still, as slimy (and illegal) as Huffman and Loughlin’s alleged actions were, they were at least partly motivated by wanting the best for their kids. We all want that. Not all of us have the same opportunities to help them achieve it. The playing field is not level — even when it isn’t photoshopped.
Naomi Shulman’s work has appeared in many publications including The New York Times, The Washington Post and Yankee Magazine, as well as on NEPR and WBUR. Follow her on Twitter: @naomishulman.