By U.S. Department of Education (Public domain via Wikimedia Commons)

That’s right, taxpayers. A new report shows that states appropriated almost $6.2 billion for four-year colleges and universities between 2003 and 2008 to help pay for the education of students who did not return for year two. Specifically, the study shows that states sent $6.2 billion in general funds and $1.4 billion in grants to colleges and universities for first-year students who did not return. The dollar figures are taken from government data and aggregated by the nonprofit American Institutes for Research.

Looking further into the matter, some experts believe the root cause can be pinned to one core issue: state imposed budget cuts. According to California Supt. of Public Instruction Jack O’Connell, state-imposed budget cuts that have slashed classes, increased student fees and reduced staff are more of a hindrance.

And how does this impact students? An economist might look at this situation and argue that the marginal cost of students continuing their studies after their first year of college far outweighs the marginal benefit of these same students continuing their studies after their first year of college. In other words, it’s likely that students will not feel incentivized to continue their academic pursuits, knowing that massive loans, coupled with the absence of required classes to transfer to 4 year colleges, will only set them farther back.

And it’s clear that students are not the only ones who are suffering. An appropriation of $1.4 billion dollars of tax-payer funds to cover the cost of grants for students who do not return after their first year results in an enormous loss in social welfare to taxpayers too.

So, what’s the point then of continuing to learn when both students and tax payers suffer? Well, there are several reasons, but all fall under the umbrella concept of learning for the sake of learning. As cliched as this sounds, students fall into the trap thinking that any educational opportunity beyond high school is the sole ticket to a rewarding and fruitful career and lifestyle.

And that’s problematic-this attitude that higher education is the only solution, rather than a key piece to the solution. In a youtube video that I have grown to love, Daniel Pink, author of Drive: The Surprising Truth About What Motivates Us, discusses a case study, where MIT students were subjected to a series of tasks, some rudimentary, some highly cognitive. The students’ reward was based on their performance. Those students who demonstrated below average performance received a a small monetary reward, followed by larger rewards for the middle tier and elite performers.

And what did this experiment reveal? For rudimentary tasks, the carrot-on-a-stick model works well to optimize student performance. In other words, a greater reward results in more output by the performer. However, the model breaks for highly cognitive tasks. Put another way, when students did not have to perform a basic mechanical task, their performance in response to these financial incentives dropped significantly.

Pink’s video presents a potential solution to the collegiate attrition problem: change the way colleges market higher education, and perhaps students will feel incentivized to continue their studies after year one. For instance,  placing a greater emphasis on the learning for the sake of learning instead of rehashing the same old study highlighting the financial benefits of higher education, may incentivize students to return after year one.

And how does Mr. O’Connell recommend we begin to resolve the issue? “The fact that we have these numbers helps with accountability and transparency,” he said. “We should do exit interviews with students and learn why they leave education.”

That’s a start, but it’s obvious that it will take more than exit interview or survey for any real change to occur.

Best wishes to the Class of 2014!
May your mail carrier deliver many, many big packets.

The agony of small envelopes.

(C) image by Nick Schwartz

As February gets underway, we can anticipate many important milestones: Valentine’s Day, the day after Valentine’s Day (hello, discounted candy!), President’s Day weekend, and of course…the college admission decisions that will start cropping up in mailboxes/inboxes across the country. It’s nerve-wracking, tense, and exciting all at the same time.

My own experience with this time turned out much differently than I first anticipated. For one thing, after submitting my applications I had more time to really consider what I wanted in a college. I know that this sounds very counter-intuitive, but I had loved some big universities just as much as the small colleges throughout the college search and I applied to a mix of both. Specifically, George Washington University was high on my list for its location, the Elliot School of International Affairs, and the fact that going there would mean meeting many other students whose interests were similar to mine.

By the time the fated decision letters arrived, however, I had decided that I needed to be on a smaller campus. College would already be overwhelming whether I went to the school with the largest student population or the very smallest. So even though I’d applied to several medium-to-large universities that appealed to me very much, I had a strong feeling that I would aim to end up at a small liberal arts college. I never regretted applying to that range of schools because it never meant that I would not have had great experiences there; it’s simply that sometimes we need to go through the entire process, start to finish, in order to gain clarity on what will be the best decision.

Of the schools that accepted me, I zeroed in on Bryn Mawr College, and Occidental College. Oddly enough, Oxy was one of the first schools I ever seriously considered while Bryn Mawr was literally my last tour and application. They differ greatly and yet I was equally drawn to each of them for different reasons. I did overnight visits at both schools and e-mailed with professors from departments that interested me. I hemmed and hawed. I majorly freaked out about the decision and consulted with just about anyone who would listen. As cliché as it sounds, I eventually put away the reasoned lists and comparisons and went where my heart took me.

Ultimately, I was very happy with my final choice—though honestly, I know that I would have been happy with many of the schools to which I applied. After all of the stress of applying to schools, we sometimes forget that it can also be very difficult to hold the decision-making power. Here’s what I learned:

• making pro/con lists is great—but don’t underestimate the value of that classic “gut feeling” (that’s what tipped the scales for me)
• tour guides and overnight hosts are helpful, but it’s crucial to talk to as many students as possible to get a genuine feel for the college and its student body
• food is key: try out as many eating locations on campus as possible and be sure to ask about vegetarian/vegan/kosher/allergy accommodations if that’s a factor
• clarify financial aid information

And most importantly…everyone will have an opinion and it’s definitely good to listen to the input of family, friends, teachers, guidance counselors. Listen. But then make your own decision.

How did you make your college decision? What measures were most helpful in the process? Least helpful?

A recent article in The New York Times discussed criticism that too many honor societies in American high schools is, well, not very honorable. Reporter Winnie Hu writes that honor societies started out ways to distinguish the “top 5 or 10 percent of a class but have become a routine item on college résumés.” Moreover, the sheer number of societies now available for membership (some are national societies with local chapters while others are unique to each high school) does not necessarily translate into substantive experiences for the members.

This article resonated with my own experience with honor societies in high school and their ultimate role in college admissions. I was a member of my high school’s chapter of the National Honor Society as well as vice-president of our Spanish Honor Society. Picking up our membership pins was the extent of the involvement required for the former and planning the next class of members’ induction ceremony comprised my vice-presidential responsibilities. Pretty limited. Imagine my surprise when I got to college and learned that NHS is a huge time commitment at many high schools!

Part of the problem seems to be that by the time students are inducted into these honor societies (often at the end of junior year or beginning of senior year), students have already established their extracurricular commitments and it is difficult to demand that the very students being rewarded for their high achievements tack on additional activities. Faculty sponsors and brave chapter presidents must walk a fine line between fulfilling a society’s goals and not burdening its members with further obligations.

The NYT article also discusses criticisms that as more honor societies are established, the degree of “honor” associated with them diminishes. This is a point where I am somewhat torn; on the one hand, I agree with the argument that making membership in an honor society extremely accessible (by having such a multitude of organizations) rather contradicts the very meaning of an honor society. At the same time, however, I don’t want to imply that various fields (languages, the arts, etc) do not merit their own organizations with which high schools can recognize students who have achieved in a given area of study.

I did not see the potential downside to boasting two honor society memberships on my college applications until I started doing alumni interviews. Suddenly I realized that if they asked to talk about either organization, I would have almost nothing to say—what’s the point of that? I think that I only ended up being asked once about the NHS, which I honestly explained is treated more like an honorary society than an honor society at my high school. The distinction is important, especially when listing these organizations on a résumé or list of activities. Getting stuck in a situation where it’s clear that membership does not translate into substantive experience—and this was not articulated on the initial application—is not very conducive towards academic and professional success.

As the article cited here discusses, some high schools have actually cut existing honor societies in order to combat this problem. While I see the value in this action, my first choice would be for high schools to clearly convey the objective of each organization so that the role of each member is clear. If the society is intended to be purely honorary, then say so. Furthermore, it may be useful for high schools to limit the number of honor societies to which each student can belong. This would encourage students to actually consider their interests rather than simply try to rack up as many memberships as possible which, as we see from the article, may not actually help them in college admissions.

It’s a tricky situation—what do you think? Did you belong to an honor society in high school? Do you think that doing so (or not) made a difference in your college admissions results?

Recent features from The New York Times and US News & World Report college blogs reminded me of my own experience with the early decision option. Early decision typically means that the student submits the application in early to mid-autumn and hears back around early December. If admitted, the decision is binding.

By the time I applied to college, I had visited about a dozen campuses and seriously researched around thirty schools. I was heavily immersed in the admissions process and preparing to apply to several universities of varying degrees of competitiveness.

Shortly before beginning my senior year, my parents and I visited Barnard College and Vassar College. I loved both and knew that I would definitely apply to them as “reach” schools. Upon starting the school year, however, I learned that my classmates were submitting early decision applications in record numbers. Some sort of group panic seemed to set in and I felt a huge amount of pressure to pick somewhere for an early decision application.

I decided to apply early to Vassar because I’d loved it so much on my visit and, being a highly competitive school, conventional wisdom said that applying early would increase my chances of being admitted. I threw myself into my early application, interviewed with a local alumna, and worked half-heartedly on other applications while I sat on pins and needles waiting for the response.

Looking back, there were definite clues that I wasn’t entirely comfortable with my decision. A belated realization that Poughkeepsie is not particularly close to New York City changed my perception of life at Vassar and I freaked out when I paid closer attention to the math and science general education requirements.

Nevertheless, when the dreaded thin envelope arrived in the first week of December, I was crushed. I cried, I lamented the loss of my “dream” school, and then….well, then I got over it. After about two days of obsessing over what could have been, I found myself feeling strangely liberated. I could go back to finishing numerous applications instead of committing myself to one school without knowing if they wanted to commit to me—these applications felt exciting again instead of overwhelming (most of the time).

This is not to say that Vassar isn’t an excellent college or that it is not the right choice for many people. But I pushed myself into the early decision option when it really was not the most logical path for me. The moments of doubt I felt while waiting for the decision were very telling, as was the relief that developed after my initial frustrating at being rejected. Perhaps they saw something in my application that I could not see myself: hesitation, uncertainty, a lack of a clear understanding of how I would fit into the campus. Whatever the reason may be, I can honestly say now that I am grateful for that early rejection. Not only did it prepare me for a handful more, it made me value the colleges that did accept me ever more—and when I painstakingly decided between my two final choices, I knew that I was making a fully informed and thoughtful decision.

On my first day at Occidental College, I met a student who was transferring from Vassar. The irony was not lost on me. The college admissions process is very much about personal choices and, in my experience, nobody has to make that choice early if he/she is not ready to do so.

I caught this “13 Things Students Love to Hate About College” article on the excellent Professors’ Guide page on USNews.com. They pick up on several common complaints that students have in college and I thought I’d offer my two cents on a few that resonated the most with me.

3. My professor is unbelievably boring. What you can do: Drop the course and find another one with a better professor. Every college has its duds, but there’s no reason why you have to get stuck with one. Even if the professor is the only person teaching a required course, there are always possibilities of getting the adviser or the department chair to authorize a substitution for a requirement. Or just wait until the course is next offered, ideally with an instructor who at least makes a minimal effort to keep you awake.

Okay, now this is a bit extreme…I didn’t necessarily click with every professor I had in college (or even like them all, let’s be honest) but to write a professor off as a “dud” before even trying to make it work would be a mistake. This is where I really see office hours being useful–stop by, ask a question or maybe additional feedback on an assignment. Office hours are a great way for professors to get to know you–and for you to get to them as well.

6. I hate writing papers. What you can do: Think about a paper as simple communication. Can you think up five reasons why the cop shouldn’t give you a ticket when you were going 77 mph in a 25 mph zone? If this were a paper, the claim that you don’t deserve a ticket would be your thesis statement, and your five reasons would be the ways you prove your thesis. Now apply this to your history paper assignment.

I agree that the art of a clear thesis is often overlooked. Also, I can’t emphasize enough how beneficial peer writing centers/advisories can be. Working with juniors and seniors on my own writing allowed me to communicate candidly and sharpen my writing skills. And honestly, these things are not remedial…even after I worked in my college’s writing center, I still exchanged drafts with other tutors! Different colleges may operate such services in distinct ways, but they are generally extremely useful, especially for students who aren’t too keen on writing.

13. This college is nothing like what I expected it to be. It can happen, especially when you’ve paid too much attention to the YouTube-style videos on the college website put out by the admissions office. What you can do: Seek out those places and activities at the college that attracted you in the first place. Going to a few fun activities—and meeting a few fun people—can change your perspective about the school 100 percent.

I feel like we spend so much time and energy on college admissions these days that we forget about what happens once that hurdle is passed and it’s time to, well, live life at college. I think my first year or two of college reflected some of the most intense highs and lows I’ve ever experienced–it’s normal. I agree that seeking out new activities is a good way to combat this issue, and it doesn’t even have to be a big commitment; colleges host tons of speakers and workshops that are worth checking out as well.