What My Favorite College Student Proved

I am honored to know a young man, whose first name is Mark, who was once a student of mine. He succeeded in reinforcing one of those valuable but not-so-self-evident truths: understand and appreciate who and what you are, and live it even if it means going against the best expectations of others.

Mark's story is one of gentle defiance. Without detailing a history, let's fast-forward to the summer between his sophomore and junior year of college 2 years ago.

Never one to wait for opportunity to knock, Mark would take opportunities where the most talented among us would shrink in self-doubt or in fear of failure. He accepted an internship in what is regarded as one of the highest profile institutions in the world, headquartered in Washington, DC. In his first week, he impressed his superiors enough to realize that they wanted him to stay awhile. But he was Joe College, and Mark was going to do things on his own time.

After he returned to the same job last summer, Mark was approached with the carrot of coming back after graduation. True to form and defying all conventional logic, he declined their offer. It's one that any Ivy League grad would take in a heart-beat. Even I was stunned. When I pressed him for an explanation, his defiance was registered in words I paraphrase: "I need to see the world through my eyes, not through anyone's else's."

With his parents having to endure the occasional adolescent spasms of protest and resistence, they came to accept and admire a son who, like his talented brother before him, were taught that self-reliance is regarded as a necessary ingredient for success. But his defiance this time seemed to be going a bit too far: his current resume is more substantial than any of his college classmates and is perhaps more appealing than that of any recent Harvard grad. But unexpectedly he's not turning his back completely on what he earlier regarded as just another element of life's journey he didn't have to take seriously.

That's because Mark will be heading to a new college where there's no tuiton, no books, no classes, and no parents to question him about anything. It's actually a college that will come to him instead of him going to it. Pretty extraordinary place filled with all kinds of surprises. It's a place most of us are familiar with, it's called the University of Reality, and it's in his face big time.
For the very first time he told me, "I've got bills to pay." You know, the kind that comes from the demands of his new universe-ity. Recognition of this reality deserves a PhD in Duh. His parents are thrilled that he finally "gets it."

Defiance for defiance sake is not this young man's style. He defies with respect for who he is and has always been: someone with a strong and positive attitude who doesn't quit in the face of all odds because of a simple belief - you can have what you want when you want it if you simply recognize and accept the value of your own talents.

And he's proved to his summer employer, but more importantly to himself, that success doesn't depend on where you went to college or what your pedigree is.

And he did it, not as a graduate of Harvard, Princeton, or Yale, but as a student at UMass Dartmouth, where he will graduate from today.

What he does from this point on, his mother has assured me, will be of some concern for her. But his admiring father waits with a child-like excitement and anticipation on what he does next.

Mark has chosen his life, not to be a period, but an exclamation point! Which is why I am so proud to call him...my son.

Why Do Parents Break Their Children's Hearts?

I witness this sad story every year at this time.

An 18-year-old received a $25,000 scholarship from his dream school. The dream has been in his blood ever since he first heard his parents tell him he can go to any college if he applies himself. The mother points to the hard-working father as the boy's example, what the father has achieved to buy the American Dream for his family, and the son is firmly convinced. With focus and hard work, you can do it too.

Unintentionally the well-meaning parents left out a truth that is now destroying their child's long-nurtured dream: they never told their son that they cannot afford to pay the difference between the scholarship amount and the school's obscene $48,000-a-year pricetag.

But the scholarship, so thinks the student, confirms everything he was told. So why is he learning that he cannot attend? The disconnect is unbearable. The student feels cheated. And sadly his heart is broken. Right there to help pick up the pieces are his parents who may not have been honest enough from the start, or their egos chose to ignore the truth that they couldn't pay, or they simply didn't understand that the springboard to success NEVER NEVER NEVER depends on going to a typically over-priced brand-name college.

This brand name nonsense is nothing more than an insidious trap that's being set for the achiever by well-meaning parents, encouraging teachers, and admiring friends. Ironically, most of these same people, who are doing well with their own lives, never graduated from a "name" school. Duh. Another disconnect.

Now this achiever learns the hard meaning of "bait and switch": achieve this to get that, and when you achieve it, you can't have it. Life isn't fair - yeah, that too.

Is there a solution, and where does it come from? The solution is a simple honesty from the parents. "The chances are good," a parent should say, "that we won't be able to afford the college you think you want to attend. With over 4,000 colleges in America, there's certainly one we can afford, and one where you'll get the tools and training you need if you take full advantage of what that school has to offer."

Warning: Because students are highly influenced by their friends, their parents will continue to send all the wrong messages to their kids, and you'll have to contend - as parents are burdened to do - with constantly having to prove your point to counter what your child is hearing. But will they listen?...

Start early. As soon as the subject of college comes up. Always have the cost as a component in any conversation and decision that will be made later so no surprises are experienced in early April of the senior year.

One parent told me, "Having a broken heart at this age is crazy!"

What's also crazy is ignoring - or pretending not to notice - the real costs of college. Acknowledging this truth, while also acknowledging that a brand name school is NEVER NEVER NEVER necessary for success, will make decision time a whole lot easier.

Lesson: When it comes to choosing colleges, it's okay to say, "NEVER!"

College Award Letters - They're In The Mail

At this time of year colleges are beginning to mail out their financial aid offers to next year's freshman class.

Be very careful what you read.

You did NOT receive a stone tablet where everything is carved in stone.

Here's what you're not seeing at the bottom of the letter because it's invisible:

"This is our first offer."

This is not at the bottom of the letter if your EFC (Expected Family Contibution = what you're expected to pay) exceeds the college's cost this year. But it's there if your EFC is below the college's cost of attendance.

This all means one thing: you can appeal the award letter. Yes!

Colleges think you're dumb enough NOT to notice that you can appeal their "award," which is really the bill made to look like a huge favor thrown in for good PR.

Don't be deceived. Colleges have appeal budgets that are not disclosed on their websites. Not for a moment are they going to signal to you that if you don't like their offer, you can always ask for more.

Bottom Line: You can ask for more. It doesn't mean you'll get more, but many colleges will offer a little bit more to make you feel good. It's a "touchee-feelee" thing with those people.*

What do you stand to lose if you don't ask?
______________
*"those people" is a term that Robert E. Lee used when he referred to his enemy during the Civil War. It's a term we use here in the same manner. In other words, the colleges are not your friends as much as they would like to portray themselves with all that glossy mailbox literature you receive.