My beloved family member graduated from the University of Ivy League Prestige in 1790. Their love for said Ivy League institution is why I had expensive college sweatshirts on before I could walk, why they would drag us back to campus to ‘network’ at reunions, and why getting into said Ivy League institution was one of the most expected moments of my life.
When I decided to attend the University of Ivy League Prestige, my family was ecstatic. The relief they felt because I was going to attend the alma mater they had donated so much money to are best represented by the high school graduation pictures of me wearing their smelly, ahem, vintage, college gear. But upon arriving at school, I was met with a much different reality. I quickly learned that telling people, “Oh yeah, this sweatshirt belonged to my family (all of them) when they went here,” was not a good conversation starter.
To everyone around me I was a beneficiary of an advantage that put me miles ahead of my peers during a college admissions process that was supposed to be fair. Suddenly, my family’s joy over my attending the same school they attended wasn’t seen the way I wanted it to be. For the first time in my life, I felt oppressed. So, instead of embracing my undeniable privilege, I hid it.
But we need legacy admissions. Top universities and colleges like the University of Ivy League Prestige consider legacy status because they understand the important role legacy plays in contributing to the preservation of an elite class of people to carry on their brand. Like it or not, we live in a capitalist society, and colleges are run like businesses: the goal is to be the most prestigious, a title bestowed on those with the most annoying students, the largest and most immorally invested endowment, and the highest rankings.
So yes, a student with a prestigious family name is particularly desirable not only because of the clout associated with their name, but also because of their money, their parent’s money, and their potential to donate more money to enrich the already rich institution. By accepting these students, the University of Ivy League Prestige reinforces a narrative of elitism and contributes to widespread wealth inequality, but acceptably because it’s within the context of an Ivy League education. And because it’s me that’s benefitting.
That said, legacies ares just as closely tied with a school’s spirit and community as it is with its prestige. It is the families with three generations of Ivy League alumni that get drunk at football games, donate money to express their gratitude for an Ivy League education, and ultimately hope that those donations will help send their kids to that same institution after them. That may be you in 30 years.
While I myself may not carry a particularly prestigious last name or have my name on a new library, I burst with pride over attending the same school as my family—and with the knowledge that my kids will have double legacy! It is this pride that makes my family comes back every year to give more money to the University: the type of pride that drives successful (rich) alumni to come back and reinvest in their school.
If you’re a non-legacy student reading this column, you might be angry. Of course, this person can talk about legacies being relevant; they may not even be a student at the University of Ivy League Prestige without their legacy status informing the university that they are a valuable economic asset to the school. This is the crux of negativity regarding legacy students on campus, and for those of us who are legacy students, this negativity contributes to our intense marginalization on campus.
Whether or not you believe legacy should be considered in admissions, you ultimately have no power, alumni do. Therefore, it will maintain a firm presence on campus for the foreseeable future. Legacies are part of the inherently oppressive fabric at elite institutions. For all of us already at the University of Ivy League Prestige, we are creating our own legacy right now, one that will be passed on to our families, regardless of whether you’re a first-generation student or the fifth-generation to buy into this institution.
No more hiding for me. Yes, I am a legacy student. Yes, my family went to the University of Ivy League Prestige. And yes, in the future, if my kids have the opportunity to attend the University, I will send them off with as great a sense of entitlement as my mom did. If you want to label me lesser because my legacy has a 43% chance of having contributed to my acceptance, so be it. But in 15 years, don’t tell your kid to apply to the University of Ivy League Prestige. Because without legacy status, they only have a 57% chance of getting in based on their own merit.
This article is a satirical response to an article posted in The Daily Pennsylvanian, found here.
~ Alex Rocha-Alvarez ’22
