Too Big To Fail (Part II)

Yesterday I gave some nuggets (or so I would like to hope) to students as they begin a new or returning adventure in the halls of academia. Today it is time to balance the equation and speak to those who make all the changing of lives possible: parents.

For those of you who have sat through the introductory speech today or in the past, saying what you should and should not do, I might be repeating some things, but in this case I do not think this is a bad thing. Some of what administrators and faculty have to say bears re-enforcement.

Given my analytics I know the people who read this come from all around the world but some of the demographics are not there. I will assume, however, that most of you are interested in education in the US; otherwise, you would not be reading this. For purposes that will be become clear my trope of choice will be military. This is not simply to underscore the fact that the US is the biggest military juggernaut in the history of the world, but also that aside from sports, it is a metaphor we live by (to borrow the title of a great book by two people who have just published yet another one too).

The phrase used these days around the administration of colleges and universities is, at least to me, adversarial. Parents are called ‘helicopter parents’ for their hovering too long with their children when they should be letting them exist in the nurturing environment of a university. This phrase is now a cultural meme although it has been refined recently, at least in some places, to apache parents for the more deadly implications of the image. I have even heard an Abrams thrown in for good measure. I think it unfortunate that the administration chooses to categorize the people who have nurtured, fed, educated, and loved their progeny in this way. It connotes that care and concern is not appropriate and primes the administration to think in terms that may be as useful as other metaphors. I especially think this true when these kinds of terms are applied to those who are about to travel many of thousands of miles back home, childless and unschooled in the rites of passage that await their loved ones.

On the other hand, I have seen student’s lives altered negatively by parents who rent rooms for a month in the town or city their children live and go to school in. In these cases, the students spend time with parents instead of making friends and then when the parents leave they are adrift. People make judgments in the blink of an eye. It is just why Malcolm Gladwell called his book by this word. We are wired to make decisions quickly as it is in our genes to do so in order to survive.  It is also one of e reasons we have to work against genes if we wish to think deeply, beyond the covers of a book or a person. In any case, people o dorm floors have read the shoes and shirts and bags and insignias of your children in the time it takes to snap your finger. And if you have deprived your child of the time to engage in conversation, then you have deprived them of the opportunity to be truly human. They will exist as a stick figure or a stereotype—the Asian kid, or the kid from someplace in Central America, or something equally vague. Each conversation is an opportunity to share details ad stories. Ad so far as we know, we are the only species to tell stories and that it is this which has made us, or so we like to believe, masters of the earth.

Therefore what I am calling for is neither a full-fledged retreat from the fray or a frontal attack. Instead, a place somewhere in the middle. To put it another way, I will repeat what we call “a caring professional’ shared with me this week about finding the proper way to treat a child headed off to college. You must be like a tree. You have to be able to bend in the wind or you will break. If you lean too far forward, trying to shade your child you will tumble over and crush him or her. If you lean too far away you will tumble and leave your child to suffer in the heat of the noonday sun. Upright and steady then. Dapple sunlight filters through. Fruit nourishes (for those following this trope, the fruit is both emotional and economic sustenance).

But balance is hard. Up to this point most parents have been the four star generals. They made the battle plans and asked those underneath to carry out orders. In some cases this went like clockwork and the educational mission was accomplished without any casualties. 

In other cases, while there was no loss of life, negotiators had to be called in to resolve lingering tensions ad ongoing border disputes. But your child is not a private anymore. A university is officer's candidate school and in four years they will be preparing for the battle of the real world ahead. The world is uncertain at all times, but if your child works to the best of his or her ability then a leadership position in society awaits. A few will rise to the very top, but almost all will have great opportunities in front of them. That is what is most important to remember. You no longer can oversee the day to day operations. You must give way and let the others they live with day to day in and out of class help them to learn how to lead. These young people are the future of the world. They are the elite. 

I know I am not supposed to use such a word in a politically correct world, but that world does not exist. The fact is that those educated at elite institutions have a much greater chance of being the elite who do in fact become leaders in virtually every area of endeavor.

Your role then is to provide insight when asked and support when needed. But here is the hard part, and I speak from personal experience and not just from some book I read, it is hard to let go. It’s hard to watch what looks like failure loom on the horizon as an overwhelming forces gathers in one form or another. It could be organic chemistry or it could be a jerk for a roommate. But you are wise to step back and let the battle happen. It is how they will learn best. If there is any safe place to crash and burn, university is that place. There are friends, faculty, advisors, mentors, tutorial centers, a whole army of administrators (some would argue too many) who are prepare to add re-enforcements. And the truth is that the hardest thing about a selective college or university is getting in. The graduation rates prove this. They have trained for this their whole lives ad are motivated. You have given them the tools they need. Let them use them.

My last piece of advice comes from experiences I have had in the last few days so forgive me for getting at least a little personal. In the New York Times book section today I read, with some dismay, the review of a student who attended one of the great schools in this country. I cannot say if what he has written is completely accurate but much of what he says does not surprise me. From Wolfe’s Charlotte Simmons to a host of other publications, the word seems to be that institutions of higher education have become country clubs instead of places of learning. And I afraid to say I think this is true. But only if your child lets it be true. 

There are freedoms to do almost anything on a campus these days. Some would say, and have, there are far too many. The bottom line is that if a child wants to go wild there are more chances to do so than there ever were at home. Some take this road out of rebellion. Others naiveté. But the fact is there are some poor choices made on the part of students. On the other hand, some of the people I know who had a rough time negotiating the party scenes finally buckled down and worked twice as hard. They did it because they wanted to rather than because they were trying to please anyone, including parents. In other words, they grew up.

And while there is a significant Dionysian element to university, there are also people who may well teach your son or daughter how best to live an ethical life. This could be through a Socratic reincarnation of a faculty member in a class, but more often, I have found, it is by the people they meet in other ways. On Wednesday, I walked back to my car after meeting with a client. As soon as I saw it I knew something bad had happened. The windshield was shattered. I could see the imprint of a human head in the center of the glass. I thought whoever this happened to must be in the hospital or dead. And then I say the note. Here is the first line: “I sincerely apologize but as I was riding my bike the chain broke; I lost control and hit your car.”  The rest of the note gives his personal information and phone so I could call him about paying for the damages.

First of all, I was shocked he could even write given what I could see had happened. Second, and more important, he had taken full responsibility for his actions. It should come as no surprise if I tell you this is a university student. His name is Andrew. I met him and his girlfriend the next day at the auto repair shop. He paid the bill and we talked. He is an orientation leader, a student who is currently helping students get accustomed to their new environment. He is also a big strapping guy, which is what I think saved him, that and the fact he was wearing a helmet (a word to the wise). I am still utterly bowled over at his honesty and willingness to take responsibility. In a week in which a great cyclist blames his troubles on everyone but himself, here is a guy who through a bit of bad luck almost died and still had the courage to accept responsibility. To me, he is the real cycling hero, and this is the kind of person your son and daughter will be around. They are very lucky. And so am I. Thank you Andrew, for teaching me about honor and ethics. I know how proud your parents are of you for doing the right thing. I am too.