Expectations

When I was in seventh grade, I was not selected to be in an accelerated English class at the local public school because my test scores didn’t meet the cutoff point. My mother wouldn’t have it, so she bought me one of those soul-crushing vocabulary workbooks, and I memorized words nightly until I scored high enough to be chosen. Did the test really measure my fluency as a writer or my ability to organize my thoughts in a persuasive manner? Probably not. Was my mother, in her quiet, Midwestern way, a formidable voice in the teacher’s ear? I don’t know, but the separation between my parents' efforts and mine was clear. While I did not always welcome or meet my parents’ expectations, doing the work and earning the grade or score was always my responsibility, not theirs.

Last week, a story broke about cheating in the college admission process, a case emblematic of a burgeoning cottage industry of “consultants” as well as a population who drinks their elixir regardless of the cost. Many articles and op-eds have raised important questions about the myriad factors contributing to this mania. There is no argument that falsifying a transcript is unethical, creating a “nonprofit” to launder payoffs is wrong, and bribing someone is abhorrent. Still, this scenario doesn’t strike me as one where complicity is always easily identified or distributed.

In light of all of this, one of the challenges that an institution like Poly, our teachers, and parents must confront is how we communicate our expectations and what drives them. What role do we expect integrity to play in our processes? How does our ego — institutional and personal — impact what we want for our students and our children? Are we ever willing to look the other way if the return is appealing enough? I don’t have an antidote other than simple lessons my parents taught me about honesty and hard work, as well as their trust in me. Our work ahead could never be more important than it is today.

JWB