Meritocracy Hypocrisy

Last month, two very different groups of high school students loaded their backpacks with supplies, preparing for the upcoming year.

One group, on the path to pedigrees from top high schools, faced an avalanche of over-scheduling. They are in the midst of their first team practices, their first sessions of SAT prep, music lessons and debate meetings. And doubtless, as they embark on their busy fall routines, they'll keep Ivy League schools on the brain: college, after all, is the torch that guides them through the forest of stress. From ninth grade on, these children of privilege are taught to eat, breathe, and dream "the college process." Their parents will have explained to them that most of what they do in high school is preparation for that thick envelope from the tony school of their choice.

The other group of students entered a different September. These kids, usually nonwhite and from low-income backgrounds thanks to the resurgence of unchallenged segregation, will be thinking about school, for the most part, on their own: parents are busy at work and they have no housekeepers, tutors, or au pairs. They, too, began a series of "firsts" for the year: their first trip through the school metal detectors, their first cell phone confiscation, the first fight in the hallway that disrupts classes, and of course, the first mention of the dreaded state tests. This is the No Child Left Behind era, but these students, because their lives are absorbed with rote test prep among other reasons, are left behind in terms of social, creative, and personal development.

Of course, there are plenty of kids whose educational life falls in between the pressured-meets-pampered existence of the ultra-wealthy and the prison-like drudgery of our country's worst high schools. Nonetheless, the fact remains that the educational gap in our country is more like a chasm. I'm a firsthand witness to this disparity, having taught in the inner-city Bronx, and tutored private school students on New York's Upper East Side.

What bugs me so much about the press' coverage of education is that while as a society, we're constantly bemoaning the stress facing both groups of students, we ignores the connection between the self-absorption of one group at the expense of another. So much effort that could be applied to closing the fabled "achievement" gap is caught up in the college rat race. While status-obsessed parents shell out cash for private college counselors, private tutors (like me), and private coaches to help position their kids, they forget an important truism: the children of success are destined for success themselves. Even the most mediocre student at a fancy school, with a little help from his parents' and his school's connections, will likely end up at a top 50 university or liberal arts college. When he graduates, those same factors, plus more connections made in college, will help him get a good job in no time; he'll come back home and happily settle into a PR or banking or real estate job (maybe one just like mom and dad's). Time and time again, prep school graduates who barely scraped by in class end up in positions of power anyway -- look at our president.

Most of the extra pushing and expensive help that these privileged offspring receive won't appreciably boost their chances of landing lucrative gigs in the future. These kids already have it made: between their money and the savvy adults guiding them, they are way ahead of most American teens.

But the other group of kids, the ones whose classrooms are overcrowded and who sometimes haven't been given a good enough vocabulary to express themselves properly, are crying out for more resources. They need academic enrichment, one-on-one mentoring and instruction, and the guidance and intervention to help them get into college, period (never mind choosing to go to a top-tier school). They would benefit tremendously from summer camp and summer internships, and as for well-equipped sports teams and theater programs, those are beyond most of their wildest dreams. But most of all, these kids need people who will advocate for them, people who will pressure the government to make meaningful change: smaller class sizes, better supplies and facilities, universal pre-school.

When we talk about the barriers to educational equality, we rarely talk about the obstinacy of affluent American parents. They fret that affirmative action for minorities will displace their darlings, but don't raise a fuss about special preferences (which is in itself a form of affirmative action favoring the wealthy) given to alumni children, donor children and athletes. These people are more benign, but still harmful spiritual descendants of those who once tarnished our legacy of integration: the parents who protested busing, who moved their kids out of town when families of other racial background moved in. And the media caters to them with a litany of "how-to" manuals on getting your kid into college, but there's always one key ingredient missing in the how-to list: "Step 1. Be sure to have a trust fund." Americans who luck out, education-wise, often delude themselves into believing that our education system is a "meritocracy." Anyone who scrutinized our country's classrooms with a clear eye would say that it's not a meritocracy, but rather a system that keeps rigid class barriers in place. Poor students are trained to be docile direction-followers in large classes and large schools, while wealthy kids are encouraged to think critically and lead in supportive environments.

Affluent parents in America are a powerful group. If they believed education for all was the same priority they make it for their kids, we might see a real difference. In fact, the involvement of all citizens is our only hope. I'd love to see parents spend less time fretting about whether it's UPenn or Stanford for Tyler and Katie and more time worrying about whether their children's lower-income peers will make it to senior year without dropping out. Chances are, Tyler and Katie won't suffer from the lack of attention. They might even breathe a sigh of relief.