Tags
Admissions, Education, Ivy League, Morocco, Princeton, Princeton University, Privilege, Reflection, University
This is the third in series of reflections on my first three months in Morocco. You can read the first two, here, on harassment and here, on small things.
My Facebook feed has recently exploded with excited announcements of college admissions. It’s the middle of December, when early applicants are notified, so “Stanford Class of 2019!” or “So proud of my little sis for getting into Columbia!!!!” are all I read these days.
I can relate to the excitement that provokes these posts. Exactly a year ago today, I found out about my admission to Princeton, and I was over the moon. That day will always be etched into my brain – the nervous butterflies building in my stomach all day, running up the stairs to my house after swim practice to check my email (in the bathroom, I know I’m weird.) And then the breathlessness of seeing the tiger on the screen, how I almost dropped my laptop, screaming and jumping around my kitchen, repeating over and over “I got in, I got in!”
Why do I bring all this up? Why blog about Princeton? Because since that day one year ago, I’ve struggled to come to terms with the implications of the opportunity. At times I’ve been embarrassed and afraid of where I’ll be going to school. But since I’ve been in Morocco my understanding of higher education has changed, and I want to share what I’ve been thinking here.
Telling people where I’ll be attending college is always awkward. I’ve developed numerous ways to avoid telling people I’m going to Princeton, including “I’m not going to college next year. I’m doing a gap year,” or “I’ll be going to college in New Jersey.” And when the truth comes out, and the word Princeton lingers in the air, the conversation inevitably stalls. “Congratulations!” the person offers. “That’s incredible, you must be so smart!” And then they falter, they don’t have anything else to say, and they shrink away, seemingly afraid of the university I’ve chosen.
There’s an aura surrounding Princeton; the University is etched into popular culture, prominent among the nation’s elite, a bastion of influence, prestige, and power. Sometimes it seems like I’ve bought into that image, caught up in a lie that my education will be worthwhile only if I go to an Ivy League college. Sometimes I feel like a pretender, like at any moment the admissions team will realize I’m an impostor, that I don’t belong in this world of stone halls and noble laureates. Sometimes I feel like a hypocrite, one who speaks out against the overwhelming influence of schools like Princeton while simultaneously buying into what they’re selling.
But I’m none of those things, and Morocco has taught me why. When I told my classmates here where I’d be going to school, their response was, “Isn’t that the best school in the world?” And somehow, even though I’ve heard the equivalent in the US, that phrase felt different here. The world is bigger here, and Princeton is much farther away. Princeton is almost an unreachable dream in the United States: last year 7.4% of applicants were accepted. But for Moroccans, Princeton is much more unreachable. For the kids at my school, even though they’re all part of the Moroccan elite whose parents have the means to educate them at a French private school, the caliber of education at Princeton will be unattainable. But the educational gap between me and them doesn’t start with college. I grew up with unimaginable educational privileges: a magnet elementary school, a well-funded and prestigious arts middle school, a nationally recognized International Baccalaureate program high school, accompanied by music lessons, sports teams, dance classes, and any other extra-curricular activities I could dream up. And now I can add Princeton University to the list of my insanely privileged education. It’s perhaps unnecessary to compare this to educational opportunities in Morocco, but to give you an idea, the literacy rate for female adults in Morocco is 58%. 60% of Moroccan seniors failed the national end-of-high-school tests last year. The educational system is institutionally broken here, and it has profound repercussions on their society.
All of this has served to show me the degree of my privilege in being accepted to Princeton. But as I’m forced to confront this privilege, I can also see the possible reactions to it. Firstly, I could reject the privilege. I could pretend I’m not going to Princeton, or I could not go, to protest social inequality. I could do what I’ve done in the past, and refuse to discuss my college. Alternatively, I could throw away the privilege by going to Princeton, bragging about it to anyone who could listen, major in pre-law, and become the CEO of a lucrative business, to insure that I live out my days in comfort, surrounded by America’s elite, making peace with the social inequality. Or, I could accept the responsibility that comes with the privilege. And considering the educational inequality I’ve experienced here, I believe that this is what I must do. I’ve been given an opportunity that many don’t have access to, and that with that privilege comes the responsibility to use it wisely. These next four years aren’t to waste. I hope I’ll arrive on campus next fall with determination to engage with the resources I’ve been offered in order to serve the nation and all nations, not myself. I choose Princeton for many reasons, and I truly believe it is the college for me, and that the education I’ll receive will equip me to use my gifts to serve with my whole life, in whatever sector I end up working in.
So if you just got into college, or you just got rejected, or you’re applying in two years, or you’re in college, or you graduated thirty years ago, you’ve been given a privilege. Will you pretend you weren’t? Will you complain about how you didn’t get into the more prestigious school, or how you won’t be at the top of your class? Will you go to party for the next four years? I suggest we confront the privilege, stare it in the face, and then go out shouldering our responsibility to use the privilege for good. As Princeton’s unofficial motto states, “in the Nation’s service and in the service of all nations.”
For the citable parts of this blog post, please see http://admission.princeton.edu/applyingforadmission/admission-statistics and https://www.cia.gov/library/publications/the-world-factbook/geos/mo.html to back up my facts.