I sympathize with her. Although I am white, I grew up on the wrong side of the tracks. I was not part of the “high society” group at my high school. When it came time for graduation, I had the highest gpa, but only by a slight margin. There was a movement by the high school counsellor and a couple of others to knock me off as valedictorian, because one of my classes -band - wasn’t of the same quality as the runner up. I was first chair trumpet. But I was also number one in math and science in the school. The superintendent, who was the grandfather of the runner up, stood by me, and I was named valedictorian. But the high school counsellor was only able to get me a $1,000 scholarship to a community college. I did not take it. I had no bad reputation, but I was not part of the in crowd.
I moved forward, got a four year engineering degree at the University of Kentucky, by working my way through school - without a student loan I might add - and made a success of myself. But I’m still resentful of that ba$tard and those other teachers who were supposed to help under privileged, not the elite.
Bravo. I once answered an interview question, “What do Engineers do?”, by saying “Engineers solve problems.”
You certainly did.
That superintendant was a person of character, that’s for sure.
One of our high school counselors taught the one geometry class as well. He wouldn’t give a grade higher than A-. It was just a personal peeve of his. Two girls in our class avoided this class while another guy took the class and received a B+. They ended up being co-valedictorians and he salutatorian. I didn’t care about grades, but it was an object lesson into trying to avoid letting my personal peeves harm other people. That has been over 40 years ago and I still think the teacher was a ****. He was a short, balding guy in his mid-30’s who wasn’t married, so he likely didn’t have much to look forward to.
I saw this when I was in high school as well—40 years ago. The offspring of local leaders and school officials were being held up as exemplars, though everyone knew many of them were involved in the same activities as the “bad kids.” However, I don’t recall any of them getting scholarships, since those easy grades they got from teachers didn’t help them on the ACT.
College proved to be the great equalizer. Because I made an effort only in classes I cared about, my academic rank was barely in the top third of my class. I went to a school in Arkansas that offered in-state tuition rates to students from Missouri counties that bordered the “Land of Opportunity,” as it was called in those days. My mother passed away five months before graduation, so I went to college on my social security survivor’s benefits and what I earned from part-time jobs. The school we attended would never be classified as the “Harvard of Arkansas,” but it offered a solid education.
Eight of us began as freshmen in the fall of 1976; four years later, only two of us graduated. The rest dropped out, discovering that their hometown social status and favors from the public school system didn’t help them a bit at the college level. My “turnaround” was motivated by a couple of factors. First, I began to understand that what I was doing would have a major impact on my life. And secondly, I was competing on what appeared to be a more level playing field. No one cared where I was from, or who my parents were. Do the work, and get the grade. Rest on your high school laurels and flunk out. It was that simple back then. Now, you probably need to be a gender studies major and Antifa activist to get decent grades.