I’m Glad I Didn’t Get Into An Ivy League School

… Or I Would Choose Pitt over Penn if I Had To Do It Again

It’s the silly time of the year known as College Admissions Season. Gawker, as is their wont to do so, published a provocatively titled article, Ivy League Admissions Are a Sham: Confessions of a Harvard Gatekeeper. It’s totally TL;DR. I read through one-third of the piece before feeling I’d gotten the gist. Or got distracted by something shiny. Perhaps this is telling of why I didn’t get into Wharton in the first place.

I’m betting there are two major reactions to the piece:

  1. From some (though not all) Ivy Leaguers: Whatever. Haters gonna hate.
  2. From almost all non-Ivy Leaguers: No sh*t, Sherlock!!

Oh, I kid the Ivy Leaguers, I does. I’ve known many of their ilk in my time. I’m related to a few. And most seem to have come through their years in the Academy with some humility, some sense of humanity intact.

I wonder if I would have stayed grounded.

Stereotypes of the elitist, snobby academic high-major graduate exist for a reason. Because those people simply do exist. The University of Pennsylvania was my dream school from the time that we dropped off my oldest sister in Philadelphia. I applied early-admission to Wharton. Getting wait-listed, then getting rejected in the regular admissions period was a huge blow. I can still remember the envelope. It was regular-sized, not one of the big ones you get when a school says, Yes. “We are sorry to inform you…” etc. #$%^&*

My sister met with one of the admissions counselors about my rejection. Apparently I was close but my scores fell just short. Or maybe they didn’t. Maybe she said that to assuage my ego. Or not.

Monkey goes to college!
Monkey goes to college!

Seventeen years later, I believe that Penn’s rejection was the best thing to happen to me. Not because I couldn’t have hacked it or because they’re all snobs. Neither are true. And not because being a Pitt sports fan has done more to toughen my hide than any Ivy slings and arrows would’ve done. That’s damn true.

The truth is that I probably would’ve become a Whartonite in the snobbiest, most arrogant sense of the word. Getting into Penn would’ve been the ultimate confirmation of my elititude.

At Pitt, I didn’t go wanting for challenging classes or great professors. I still met some of the smartest people I’ve ever known. Folks who blew me out of the water in terms of intellect and hard work. Some who, like me, could’ve gone to a ‘high-achieving’ school but fell through the cracks by dint of birth or other circumstances.

I met a lot more kids who were the first in their family to go to college than I would’ve at Penn. Some went part-time. Some commuted. Some took more than four years to graduate because they couldn’t attend continuously.

More than anything else, Pitt taught me humility. It’s not Penn’s fault that I might not have learned that lesson had I spent 4-5 years in West Philly. But it’s a lesson I’m glad was forced upon me.

Not everyone is best served by going to a state school. Or an Ivy. Or a private liberal arts college. Or a nerdy research school. Or any college. (Especially Penn State. Because they suck). I can only say that for my development as a human being, Pitt was exactly what I needed academically and socially. Getting pimp-slapped by the Ivy League admissions process was probably a Godsend. Even if it is a sham.

Comments

comments