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Awesome NY Times Article

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It's not specifically about homeschooling, but it definitely applies. :)


Help Them, Teach Them, but Don’t Live Through Them




Published: October 23, 2010






THE woman corners me after I give a speech about college admissions.

“My son isn’t the best student,” she begins, “but we think he has a good chance of getting into. ...”

I can guess: Stanford or Duke, Yale or Northwestern. I’m sure I already know the story. The boy has

a B-plus average and disappointing SAT scores, but Dad went there, and a family friend used to work

in the admissions office.


For seven years, I’ve crisscrossed the country, discussing what I learned while writing two books about

teenagers. Help your children find their hidden talents, I advise parents. Teach your children to be independent.

Don’t live your dreams through your son or daughter.


As this mother shares her application strategies, I want to recommend that she let her son find his path. I stay

quiet, though, because I’m struggling to follow my own advice.


Somewhere in my files, I have a photo of my son, Benjie, and me on the steps of the admissions office of my alma

mater, Brown University. We were framed by glowing yellow forsythia, and I was beaming.

Benjie was 2 weeks old.


At the time, I was a fellow at Harvard. Soon after, I did a brief teaching stint at Dartmouth’s Tuck School of Business.

I secretly hoped my son would go to one of those Ivy campuses. Maybe I saw that as the seal of approval for my

parenting — my boy in Cambridge, Mass., or Hanover, N.H., or Providence, R.I.


Benjie demonstrated, by his nature, that he had other plans. In kindergarten, he was the restless one who preferred

exploring to listening to directions. When a private school turned him down for first grade, I felt I’d been gut-punched.

The homework wars erupted in fourth grade — a 20-minute assignment stretched on for three hours, punctuated by

cries of “I hate writing!” Later, while I tried to explain long division, he stormed out of the house. He stayed in the yard

till dark, digging holes and watching birds.


I pushed enrichment; he refused to try “stupid” scouting. He dropped soccer. Basketball lasted long enough for me to

buy a uniform. Experts analyzed Benjie with standardized tests, and I fretted over his percentiles and hired tutors. At

the same time, it seemed most of my friends’ preteens were doing genome research.


Benjie is 14 now. At that age, I pestered teachers for extra-credit assignments. Benjie is satisfied with a C; he doesn’t

understand why anyone cares about spelling words correctly; the notion of revising an essay is foreign to him.

At 14, I knew I wanted to be a writer. When I ask Benjie what he sees himself doing in 10 years, he answers vaguely

about working with animals. But he most likely won’t be a vet — too much chemistry and biology, he says.


And yet Benjie has so much that I lack. As a teenager, I was a shy, awkward outsider. The other day, walking through

Benjie’s school for a meeting, I saw him regaling a group of kids in the hallway with some fascinating tale.

More important, he’s developed empathy. When he and six other students saw a classmate accused of shoplifting on

a school trip, Benjie persuaded the others to avoid gossiping.


Last summer, I envisioned Benjie toiling in a lab at science camp, but I lost the will to fight another battle. Instead, I

sent him to stay with my brother and sister-in-law, who breed dogs. At their house, work begins at 5:30 a.m., seven

days a week. Benjie would have to follow orders without excuses.


Three hundred miles away, I waited for the call begging to come home. Instead, I got one-word texts like “awsomme” —

misspelled every time, in true Benjie fashion.


When the visit ended, my sister-in-law sent a note saying that Benjie had pitched in tirelessly with chores and even

cleaned the yard after 17 spaniels dirtied it. He groomed dogs for two hours straight without getting antsy.

“Benjie is an amazing kid and human being,” she wrote. “He is smart, funny, curious, caring.”


Twelfth grade is a few years away, but I’m already imagining Benjie’s application essay: “My name is Benjamin but no one

calls me that. I’m an animal-loving, cello-playing, cross-country-running nomad who has gone to six school districts in

three states because of my dad’s stupid career.”


I spend a lot of time in high-pressure communities, speaking to anxious mothers and fathers like me. We want our children

to go to great colleges and prepare for a brutal job market.


Still, I tell families to stop obsessing about campuses with marquee names. I’ve visited dozens of little-known schools where

professors are far more engaged in teaching than members of Ivy League faculties. Also, in this economy, I can make a strong

case for going to community college, mastering a trade or taking a gap year to earn money.


Above all, I urge parents of high school juniors and seniors not to see their kids as SAT and ACT scores and G.P.A.’s, but as

creative, unpredictable, unprogrammable teenagers with their own gifts.

Like my son, Benjie.


David L. Marcus is the author of “Acceptance: A Legendary Guidance Counselor Helps Seven Kids Find the Right Colleges — and Find Themselves” (Penguin Press).





A version of this article appeared in print on October 24, 2010, on page WE12 of the New York edition.



Edited to try to get it back into the proper format. Oh well ... I tried. : )

Edited by Teachin'Mine
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This is exactly how I feel about college right now! I have a good friend(anti HSer) who is pushing so hard for her son to go to a big name. In this economy you need to rethink things. The good old boys club that had connections and got Ivy League grads jobs easily is gone. So many people have been laid off that now the playing field has been leveled. I strongly believe in CC where you can get a better idea of what you want before going to a 4 year school.

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