The Tragedy of American Higher Education
What every parent and student needs to know
I
MAGINE wide, manicured lawns, lofty brick building,
and doors bearing nameplates inscribed with authori-
tative credentials. When tour groups walk through my
college campus, this is what they see. Indeed, such an
inspiring environment prompts well-meaning parents
to smile in anticipation and makes incoming students
scan the campus in a mixture of wide-eyed terror and
excitement. Although parents send their children and
students come to college with well-intentioned hopes of
a bright future, my experiences as both a college student
and college-level instructor have shown me that such
elevated expectations are usually naïve and misguided.
When I first entered the beautiful campus of the public
university located in conservative southwestern Virginia,
the autumn trees had begun to usher in their glorious fall
colors, and like them, I had readied myself for my own
personal metamorphosis: I had entered graduate school
to pursue a Master’s Degree in English. In addition to
working on my degree, I had also earned a valuable
teaching assistantship that came with a sizeable scholar-
ship and stipend. What an amazing opportunity to earn
a degree and pursue my passion for teaching! Sadly,
however, after nearly two years in that environment,
what most impresses me about my college experience is
not the beauty of the campus, the intellectual exercise
it requires, or the joy of introducing young minds to
the pleasures of learning. Instead, I’m struck by the way
the school’s carefully-crafted exterior contrasts with the
dark, hidden truth of America’s higher education system.
My personal experiences during this time and seeing the
20
inner workings of the university have opened my eyes
to some terrible problems within our public university
system that every parent and student should know.
Anyone wanting to understand the systemic flaws
within our college system first needs to learn this: more
than anything else, most schools are interested in their
financial bottom line. Financial concerns take preemi-
nence over everything else. Student wellbeing, academic
proficiency, and basic decency all take a backseat when
it comes to bringing in money. I saw this firsthand
when I began teaching freshmen how to write college-
level essays. I thought that I had a decent grasp of my
job: teach students the required material, expect them
to demonstrate mastery of the material, and the level
to which they do so determines their grades. It sounds
simple, doesn’t it? However, what I came to learn is
that such a seemingly fair and unbiased system isn’t too
popular with those who value financial concerns above
all else. I was routinely encouraged to grade students
“holistically.” By this, my superiors meant that I was to
overlook the most basic parameters of good writing
such as grammar, punctuation, and spelling. Instead, I
was told to grade “ideas.” Furthermore, when I suggested
that their future employers would, in fact, expect their
college-degreed employees to write intelligently, many
faculty members took exception to that idea. My faculty
mentor even questioned the idea of a basic test that
graded my students’ subject knowledge.
In addition, even if an instructor wants to grade
students based on performance, schools have set up a