It was a December morning in Northern California – warm yet grey, as if ambivalent about whether it belonged to fall or winter. Cara, a senior in high school, sat across from me at the small table in her living room.
Here’s the deal: There are over 3,000 4–year colleges and universities in the United States. There are more than 1,500 accredited 2-year institutions – which are great options for lots of kids for lots of reasons. All kinds of kids go to all kinds of schools, and go on to live all kinds of lives. I know this. And yet, as a parent of a high school senior bound for college, I sometimes find it challenging to remember that (as Frank Bruni reminds us) – where he goes is not who he’ll be (and where he goes is certainly not who I am as a parent).
During the next few weeks you may find yourself in the company of high school seniors and may think that a logical topic of conversation is the college admissions process.
Since my last few weeks have been spent listening, sympathizing, educating, and mostly reassuring parents whose first (or second or third) child has left for college, this column …
The most important piece of advice my oldest daughter and I heard when she was packing for college was: Don’t forget to bring a doorstop.
When some parents and students refer to March Madness, they aren’t necessarily talking about basketball. They are referring to this particularly stressful time of year when college admission decisions arrive via email and snail mail.
After writing the title for this blog, I stared at it for quite some time. Who I was referring to when I questioned “Beginning or Ending?” Did I mean us parents, or our children? Was it a “big picture” question about life in general or a smaller, specific question about our individual family constellations?
The Washington Post ranking of US high schools has just been released and, as you can imagine, parents around the country are either congratulating themselves on the great choice they made or having an anxiety attack because their child’s school didn’t make the cut. While we could argue about the methodology used, we mostly want to convey that school choice should be about where your child fits and can succeed as much as anything else. We thought hearing from high school counselor and CS board member Lisa Spengler on how she helps her students choose a high school would help provide some perspective on an alternative way to think about high school choice.
I remember the exact moment when I found out that Princeton had accepted me. It was third period chemistry class, right after lunch, and I was slowly dozing off as my teacher went through the titration lab instructions.
A human unfolding into adulthood is an ugly, beautiful thing. I should know. As Stanford’s freshman dean for ten years I had a front row seat as thousands of teenagers emerged into their adult selves through the alchemy of trial, error, and dreams. They made me laugh. They made me cry. I rooted for them either way. I also have two kids of my own making their way through the rigors of public school in Palo Alto so, between my own parenting experience and my decade with undergraduates, I know a thing or two about parents. Nowadays, in well-to-do communities like mine and throughout our country, we parents over-direct, over-protect, and over-involve ourselves in childhood. Of course we don’t want to see our kids struggle, let alone suffer, and we act with the best of intentions. Yet bestselling author and psychologist Madeline Levine (Teach Your Children Well; The Price of Privilege) tells us that when we do what our kids can already do for themselves or can almost do for t …
Five months ago, I started working nights at a restaurant. Though the restaurant is cozy and well-attended, I noticed something peculiar: many diners were not communicating with each other. They were distracted by their screens. Disturbed, I wrote an op-ed and published it in The Seattle Times. At the end of the article, I included this short bio: “Shoshana Wineburg graduated from Stanford University in 2009 with a degree in American Studies. She waits tables in Seattle.” Comments ensued. Most people responded to the article’s content; others could care less. They wanted to talk about my degree. One user wrote that my bio was “the saddest part of the article.” Someone else said my degree was not “worthwhile,” and that waiting tables after graduating from Stanford was “kinda depressing.” I haven’t just waited tables after Stanford. I’ve done other things. But that’s beside the point. The point is that …
In this holiday season, too much of our lives are determined by desire. We are bombarded by the newest toys we must have. We obsess about the plans we painstakingly make. We long for friends and family from afar to be in our midst. Some of those desires uplift us. Some are imposed upon us. Nowhere is this more apparent than in the blizzard of questions and assumptions faced by students navigating to and through high school toward a future college. Too often, for young adults and those who love them the holiday season can feel like trial by query. “What do you want to be when you grow up?” “Where did you apply?” “How many schools?” “What’s your safety school?” “What do you think you’ll major in?” While the questioners are often well meaning, the degree of desire increases exponentially with each question. Students, how can you remove the heavy mantle of other people’s needs, anxieties and expectations a …