OPINION: What does a college education really mean?

Photo by Vivian Shih for NPR

Zach Donaldson is a freshman studying political science and an opinion writer for The New Political.

Please note that these views and opinions do not reflect those of The New Political.

As April rolls around, one of the most seminal events in budding students' lives approaches, College Decision Day. 

Instagram feeds flood with a wave of beaming, rosy-cheeked high school seniors in crewnecks donning their new school's colors. 

Underlying what should be a celebratory and hallmark process is the earliest installment of life's rat race: competition between the top-performing students to join the educational promised land. 

They battle to occupy the most club leadership roles, receive the best scores on archaic standardized tests and earn the highest GPA — all for the glory and honor of supposed academic superiority. 

The exhausting dance fetishizes U.S. News Rankings and single-digit acceptance rates, exiles commuter schools and community colleges to a taboo and butchers the self-worth of those entangled. It breeds toxicity, stunts passion and actively discourages creativity.

During my senior year, when my peers asked, "Where are you going to college?" I often felt the need to qualify why I picked Ohio University. Responses to my choice were accompanied by an insincere "that's cool," or worse, "Oh, I'm surprised you're going there." 

In the elitist culture of higher education, Ohio U students don't match up to the hallowed halls of Harvard, the wow factor of Stanford or the big paychecks promised to MIT and Carnegie Mellon graduates. Ohio U is a "safety" school, the place one goes because they can't get in anywhere else or are only interested in going to the bars three or four days a week. If one hopes to be "successful," they need to set their sights elsewhere.

This common mindset is stunningly ignorant and false; it perpetuates a feedback loop that puts innovative and independent thinking in the back seat. 

The notion that the admissions process is meritocratic or serves as the slightest modicum of intelligence and career determination is a sham. Let's call out the Ivies and their peers for what they are: academic country clubs for the wealthy and powerful. The system was designed this way and is under no pressure to change.

It is an impressive feat to be admitted to an Ivy League, and there are enormous benefits to being inducted into a network of established professionals and scholars. There are also exceptions to the rule, students from less privileged backgrounds must claw for scholarship opportunities and a seat in more selective classes. 

But at the macro-level, gargantuan tuition expenses, legacy preferences and varied opportunities amongst different demographics are massive roadblocks for otherwise qualified applicants. 

The working-class kid from southeast Ohio is often just as capable as their counterpart from an old-money family in Massachusetts. However, they will never have the institutional advantages to do what we designate as "making it big." 

Standardized tests are mired in classism and deflated by the popularity of expensive SAT and ACT training courses. Those who attend private, magnet and affluent public schools have privileged access to after school programs, tutors and college-prep advising. The average American has to work multiple jobs to help finance their education, tend to basic health and safety concerns and navigate the admissions process alone. Less than 5% of students at elite colleges come from an income distribution in the bottom 20%.

Hypothetically, against all odds, the underdog from Appalachia earns their spot at Harvard with a promising financial aid package. Should they take it? That's up for debate. Ivy League colleges are notorious for fostering cutthroat environments, aggravating risk factors for those who suffer from mental illness which earned them ratings of a "D+" or lower in student mental health per a recent report by the Ruderman Foundation. The domineering professional objectives tend to be the same too, prioritizing lucrative careers in engineering, finance and law while almost entirely ignoring other branches of work. 

The path is fairly clear: color in the lines, trudge through the mud and blood for four years, and earn a shiny degree and a consulting job upon graduation day. Self-discovery need not apply.

I am not here to belittle the practicality and benefits that come from attending these institutions. I have many cherished friends who attend these top schools, and I'd certainly be lying if I did not have my eye on some historic names as I look into pursuing a J.D. after graduation.

Rather,  I am here to beg the question of what exactly we value in a college education. Is it really all a narrow, aimless pursuit of prestige and wealth where grades are commodified and experiences are only as good as they look on your resumé? Or is there something more purposeful we can attain in this four-year buffer between childhood and the workforce? Does the name of a school really have as much weight as we give it?

Contrary to what a Google search may tell you, at Ohio U, I believe I am receiving an education in the highest sense of the word: in the classroom and out of it. 

I have met some of the hardest-working, smartest, most down-to-earth Midwesterners I could ever have the honor of calling friends. They work multiple jobs to pay for their own school. They have braved backgrounds and challenges I could have never imagined from my bubble of privilege. They do it all with a sense of determination and swagger that is refreshing and inspiring. They challenge my preconceived notions and worldviews, humble me and teach me more than any world-renowned faculty ever could. 

I am blessed to have instructors and professors who take an egalitarian and human approach to our curriculum. I remember my first week of school being told by the dean of our honors program to engage with the community around us, learn about Appalachian struggles and the land we live on, and recognize the innate talent and intelligence in all students on campus.

I was taught the value of hard work and resilience. Athens, Ohio may not have the glamorous network of New York and Washington DC, but I certainly do not feel slighted or held back in my opportunity to flourish.

As a freshman, I have interned for a U.S. Senate campaign and an Argentine non-governmental organization, and I am writing a research paper on Ukraine and Taiwan Conflicts individually with a professor. My story is not isolated; many of my peers intern and work for top publications and federal agencies and study in countries on every continent. These experiences may not be as readily accessible as they are at higher-ranked institutions, but they certainly exist and are more rewarding and affordable as a Bobcat.

Ohio U still requires hard work and is competitive; even I am stressed to gray hairs sometimes. Yet, I feel a sense of community and collaboration that I am sure many of my peers at community and state universities across the country share. High-achieving, interesting and motivated people are not restricted to schools with gaudy price tags; they are sprinkled around every campus across the country, ready to change the world. 

There is no shame in attending an elite school, but there is undoubtedly shame in believing an elite school is the only road to the top. The prevailing braggadocio and drool for prestige embolden a rat race that makes elite colleges fail to reach their highest ideal: truly educating. 

For every day that we continue to buy into a system that places unrealistic standards on a pedestal, more uninspired, unmotivated and unhappy young people will occupy the workforce of tomorrow.