The dream of the Ivy League was one that I aggressively strove for. The countless volunteer hours, demanding co-curriculars, daily athletic commitments and an unruly amount of AP classes were supposed to lead up to something grander, right? The system often impresses upon students that there is one track to success or a quality education, and that is through an upper-tier, elite academic institution. However, my experience at an Ivy League school made me realize that this couldn’t be further from the truth.
From the onset of my experience at an Ivy League school, I was continuously disappointed at the academic experience offered. My teacher’s voice reverberated off the walls of the large lecture hall as she chimed, “Hello! Welcome, all 250 of you! I would like to start by saying that if you have any questions regarding the course please consult your syllabus, then a friend in the class. If your question still remains unanswered, consult your TA and as a last resort, me.” I was immediately shocked at my professor’s detachment and lack of accountability for her students. In the majority of my classes, the TA’s did the grunt of the work. They graded assignments and exams and held office hours and review sessions while the professor only showed up to lecture twice a week. Professors are largely rewarded for the research they conduct, so they spend as little time in class as they can. Their incentive structure is biased against teaching; students are not seen as a first priority, which made me wonder, who is the system really serving? Throughout my experience, I felt like one of the many customers consuming a mass-produced education. Nothing about it was personally fulfilling or captivating to me. No one cared if I showed up to class. My professor didn’t even know my name. I was not a valued part of the community – I was simply a number. At a school that supposedly offered a world-class education, I was certainly not impressed.
So many bright, incredibly talented and insightful students surrounded me. It was clear that many of them never experienced anything other than success. In a competitive, cutthroat environment, the prospect of not being successful was utterly terrifying for most. I witnessed individuals question their self worth and ability during the absence of academic validation. For some it even prompted an existential identity crisis or a hysterical mental breakdown. The risk of falling short prompted many to avert risk; the goal was to color in the lines, do the work and get the grade. I found that there was very little incentive to deviate from what was expected because there was simply not enough time or a great enough pay off to learn more than what was expected. For someone who loved to learn and enrich myself academically, I found the academic environment to be disappointing, stifling and unfulfilling. My passion began to dissipate; I felt more like a robot than a human. I would have loved the chance to think about what I was studying, but I simply didn’t have the time.
College is often viewed as an investment. But what is the return? Is it about landing that coveted, high paying career? For one thing, higher education teaches you how to think and synthesize information. But more importantly, college is an opportunity to stand outside the world for a few years, between the socialization of your family and the exigencies of career, and contemplate life from a distance. It’s about building an identity and a self. The job of college is to assist you on the journey of establishing communication between the mind and the heart, as well as the mind and the experience. During that process you become an individual, a unique being – a soul. Along the way you are introduced to networks of individuals, experiences, books, ideas, works of art and the brilliant, unique minds of the individuals around you. It’s the time to explore and adventure; to find yourself through introspection and self-reflection. College isn’t the only opportunity to do this but it is certainly the best. This is why an undergraduate experience devoted exclusively to career preparation is four years largely wasted. The crux of the Ivy experience is involving and strategically positioning yourself in career oriented activities – it is resume stacking at its finest. Very few individuals I met involved themselves in activities that nourished their soul or made them truly happy, mostly because many would largely consider that to be a waste of time or because there simply isn’t enough time in the day to fit in something not academically oriented. Ironically, elite schools like to boast that they teach their students how to think. In reality, this means that they train students in the analytic and rhetorical skills that are necessary for success in technocratic areas. After my experience, it saddens me that an education devoid of soul fulfilling experiences is considered superior.
My semester-long experience at an Ivy taught me a hard earned lesson: maybe society doesn’t have it right after all. For years I was caught up in the prestige and the grandeur an Ivy emanated, but I realized the grass is definitely not greener on the other side. Every day I was away I yearned for St. Lawrence. My appreciation has grown immensely for this special, life-changing place. There is something to be said about an institution that has largely retained their allegiance to real educational values: professor involvement, diverse coursework, balance, dedication to critical thought, self-reflection, adventure, as well as the creation of life long friendships and networks. The SLU experience is so unbelievably special and unique; I feel honored to be apart of such a wonderful community that values every member. Returning home is one of the best decisions I have ever made for myself because there truly is no place like SLU.