On sending RTE-admitted kids to the city's best schools

Imagine that you are a middle-class parent. A letter comes in the mail: it has elongated script and a crimson emblem blazed on the upper left corner. "This is a dream," you think, "... is this what I think it is?" The packet feels heavy, and you hold it in your hands, shaking. "It can't be what I think it is..." Your child applied for a diversity scholarship to this school ages ago on a lark, but didn't think anything would come of it. No way. Your child is just the daughter of a salesclerk and administrative assistant--nothing special. As you pull out the embossed paper, your mouth goes dry. "Congratulations! We are pleased to inform you that your child has been accepted to Harvard University on a full-ride scholarship..."

You drop the sheet of paper.

It's happening.

Your child got accepted to Harvard. 

After the elation subsides, panic sets in. "How will she manage? Will the other kids make fun of her Indian accent? It's cold in Cambridge. I don't know if she'll fit in among the American students. We're so poor by comparison. I hear they can be mean. Will she make friends? Sure, she's just as capable and bright as the others, but will the teachers accommodate her if she can't understand the lectures? What will she do when I won't be there to cook for her? What am I going to do if I have to send her money in an expensive city like Boston? She's never even been outside India, how will she manage?"

Now think of what you would say to such a parent. Would you tell her not to send her kid to Harvard? Of course not. Any parent who wants the best for their child would jump at the offer to attend a top institution, no matter these fears. If Harvard offers a full scholarship, you take it. There is simply no question. So long as it is free for that child to be sitting in the classroom, everything else becomes a secondary concern. In fact, not sending the child would be seen as a self-sabotaging tragedy. If the parent were to deny their child the opportunity of going to a school that will literally change their life, we would judge the parent for prioritizing their own insecurities over the well-being of the child. We would see that yes, it will take fortitude of character to adjust to a new and difficult environment, but that these are not sufficient reasons to turn down such a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that can catapult her into a lifetime of success.

And this reasoning is why I seek admissions at top schools for children applying under the Right to Education Act. It's genuinely no different than the above scenario. 

It's surprising how often people discourage me from enrolling kids at such schools, though. I've heard from my family members and even other education nonprofits working with underprivileged kids to "avoid such prestigious, high-end schools; they won't adjust." I find this logic patronizing, to be honest, and it greatly underestimates a child's innate strength. Just think about it: Our entire school system is designed on challenges. We challenge them through exams. We challenge their way of thinking. We challenge them through competitive sports, where winners and losers are made. We brutally rank them alongside their peers. Sometimes they come home dejected after failing an exam. And yet... a good educator recognizes that growth only comes through adversity. School is not about being comfortable. We continuously push and challenge them in the name of their best interest. If they are not good enough at first, then we don't tell them, "don't bother trying." We work with them, and push them to be better. 

As for socially, I understand that we want to shelter children from the harsh realities of adolescence. It's the reason we buy useless toys that hold so much social capital; why we buy designer clothes for them; and why we upgrade their smart phones even though their old one was perfectly adequate. And while these things certainly help with integration, they are not bullet-proof from the stings of a classmate's inevitable thoughtless remarks. Growing, I recall being bullied for not being able to afford Nike shoes like my well-off classmates. I saw kids less fortunate than me be teased mercilessly, and I often did my best to be their allies as a result. Even my spouse who had all of the accoutrements still experienced occasional difficulties being a non-Brahmin in an otherwise all-Brahmin school. Other close family members have experienced racism despite the school's prestige. 

Kids can be brutal, no matter one's status. 

I recognize that the difficulties faced by RTE-admitted children will likely be greater than anything I experienced growing up. I can only hope such hardship engender compassion towards the less fortunate when they are in a position of power later in life (as good schools are wont to offer). Interestingly, I learned from reading a book that was given to me by the school that Lady Andal herself was made to study outside, away from the other kids. She faced great discrimination as a young widow, and I have to think that her adversity shaped her desires to work with the poor. It seems beautiful things can arise from being socially ostracized, even though it's hard at the time. 

That's basically life itself, isn't it? "It's hard but worth it." The best things in life are hard: parenting, going to school, falling in love, starting a business, going on an adventure... I've found that difficulty and greatness are complements.

I will do everything I can to mitigate the difficulties incurred by children at these schools by having close involvement with the families, but alas, I cannot change the fact that they are poor. 

At the end of the day, though... you damn well send your kid to Harvard.