<p>My wife and I might seem super parents for raising smart kids. We both turned down Harvard undergrad (and seeing how many people were miserable there and how slipshod the education we see no reason to regret that), did serious graduate work in Ancient Greek and Art History, and got professional degrees in corporate finance and law. For us, standardized tests are like snacks before dinner. There are few humanities courses we could not teach if we had to.</p>
<p>We figured we would never have kids as smart as we are, but our son and daughter are just as bright. So we set out naively to give them every advantage we did not have ourselves. And did great damage. </p>
<p>Despite going to one of the toughest high schools in the country, our daughter, who truly is brilliant, barely survived her first year at Wellesley. As a sophomore she is slowly getting her act together, and we could not be more proud. She disdained math when I tried to lead her down the garden path, but now is taking advanced courses in the number theory I tried to introduce her to in middle school and which she treated with disdain. I am deeply concerned that her language/literature skills, which are extraordinary, are being neglected. But she must make her own path, and she is finally doing so.</p>
<p>But this is about our son who has turned away one opportunity after another. He liked fencing in camp. We took him to the club in NYC that teaches private school kids and has the Olympic coaches and bought the finest equipment from Europe. He dropped out quickly. At one of the finest private schools in the country, he does just enough to get by with average grades and made stage crew his only extracurricular activity. He took a summer writing course at Columbia and shows some decent ability. But he has not produced enough work to be really impressive. He spends almost every free minute on mmorpgs and the Net. His only AP’s are in computer science, where he is not a technical wizard, but knows enough to bridge the geeks and the non-geeks in class projects. He refused to apply to Yale EA, where as a legacy who does not need financial support he had a shot.</p>
<p>He entered senior year with a B+ average, but blew off German to get C’s in the first 2 trimesters and got bored by baby calculus and went down from a B+ to a C. He did not study for his SAT’s. He managed an 800 for his verbal, but only 640 for his math. </p>
<p>The returns are in. He got rejected by 9 of his ten schools, including 2 of his 3 supposed safeties (including one where he is a legacy.)</p>
<p>The one school he was accepted in is barely in the top 100. We liked it a lot, but it is a school to help lower middle class kids enter the middle middle class. It will have nothing to offer like the Chaucer course he is taking this year that is better than most offered at Ivy colleges. So he will take a year off and reapply.</p>
<p>I realize now that it was a disaster for him to endure such high expectations from us and to have everything presented to him on a silver platter. I can only imagine his embarrassment as his friends are getting into top schools. We are hoping, however, that this will be the best thing that ever happened to him.</p>
<p>We are not going to make anything easy for him this time. We will not use our pull with the president of a major university to try to rescue him. He must do something on his own and know that he has done so. We will be there as a resource for him. He has expressed interest in maybe doing a journalism internship. I will not lobby the contacts I have and find a place for him. I will just give him their names and tell him he can network if he wishes and work it out on his own. We will test him for learning disabilities, because that might be useful information. And we will provide him a gap year consultant, if he wants one. And will always be there to love and support him and provide an ear if he wants one.</p>
<p>The more I think about this experience for our darling little child, the more cautiously hopeful I am. Someday, when the sting is no longer so sharp, he could even right a book on what it’s like to flunk out of college before being admitted.</p>
<p>The point being, of course, that what is useful about the process is not the status or some fantasy of a perfect fit and future success, but that the process provides an arena where the scaffold of the adult self is created. It is a chance for self-discovery and self-improvement. May it be so for him.</p>