Originally Posted by
Dom Heffner
One of the more sobering moments in my life came when I was reading the Princeton Review's LSAT prep test booklet.
In so many words, they told me I wasn't going to Harvard. No matter how good my grades and LSAT score were. There were thousands of people just like me, and Harvard had room for 1% of us. It was written in such plain English- and laugh out funny to boot- that it didn't hurt a bit.
In a matter of seconds, I was over it. With a smile.
A few years ago I was in Hollywood where my girlfriend was taking a film makeup class.
One of the models they used on their mock fillm set was attending Harvard and was in Los Angeles for the Summer.
Knowing how hard it was to get into Harvard, I made a big deal out of it when we were out drinking one night, much to his embarassment.
The guy was pretty humble about it, telling me it was honestly no big deal. His dad had connections, he was grateful, but he was finding it to be extremely overrated.
He was studying political science, which was my major, and we talked for an hour about the thesis I did on the First Amendment's establishment clause.
Obviously, I was a little bit more familiar with the subject matter having lived and breathed the topic for 9 months, but I can honestly say I gave him an education that night, one he fully appreciated.
Here we were at the Pier in Santa Monica, drinking Jack Daniels, and Dom Heffner with his University of South Florida degree was holding his own with a Harvard kid. In fact, there were matters concerning our government he was pretty lost on, even on things that were first year type of stuff- Things I knew before I set foot on a college campus. To be polite, it was "Jaywalking" level information.
On one hand, it felt good to know that information is information, and if you study it and work hard, you can know as much as anybody else. There's no secret Ivy League ritual that let's these students in on some higher level of understanding on some topics. On the other, it is a little sad that because his dad knew people, he was going to get a much better start than I would have at his age, just because of where he went to school.
But things are like that at every level of life. In the workplace, elementary school, heck, even at the roller rink: I had an 8 year old friend who never had to pay for admission or concessions because his dad owned the place. That's life. We can't control who our parents are. I even get perks because of who my dad was: I've paid 2% under invoice for every car I've ever owned because he worked at Ford.
I'd love to rail on here about how things aren't fair and that things should change. Everybody should be able to get into a Harvard type school. But alas, that's not how things are. At the end of the day, though, we can have a huge say in our own destiny. My father never graduated high school and was worth more money than I ever thought an auto worker could be. My uncle is a millionaire several times over, has dinner with the Linder family every month, and takes pride in letting you know he doesn't have a diploma: "Not bad for a high school dropout," he'll proudly rub in my face (It's especially bad now being at the age where he repeats himself everytime I see him lol).
And then there are the riches that really matter. We all have people and experiences in our lives that we wouldn't trade for an Ivy League education.
If going to Harvard means having a different dad, no thank you, I'm proud to be a USF Bull.
I love my life to the point that it overwhelms me sometimes. All the ingredients that went into making me- I don't want a dash more or less of any of it.
Don't get me wrong on the Harvard kid. I'm not saying I was smarter than the guy- heck, maybe he could do more with the same information than I could once he was further along with his education. But it was good to know that on a warm June evening in Los Angeles during the late Spring of 2005, I held my own with someone I never thought I could have. Even if it was at a bar in a one way competition in my own mind.
I should have known I could, though, because even my father, the simple auto worker who didn't have a high school diploma, could - and did- tell me that all my life.
I think the author of this piece has the right idea, and it was a terrifc read.
Thanks for posting this, Roy.