Like America as a whole, colleges are confronted by a growing economic divide. At the wealthiest 50 institutions, taken together, students from American families in the bottom quartile of income represent only 7 percent of the student body. By contrast, students from families in the top quartile account for well over half of total enrollment.
Despite sustained efforts to confront this problem, elite colleges sometimes seem to be compounding it. Wealthy students still have plenty of great options. The less advantaged have discouragingly few at elite colleges, community colleges, or public institutions, particularly with decreased state and federal investment in public higher education. Many low-income students from all backgrounds who are highly qualified for college do not have educational opportunities commensurate with their abilities. This is a national tragedy.
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When we favor the advantaged and exclude the talents of the majority of the population, society pays a large price—one our country can ill afford to bear. It means we are educating our future leaders without selecting them from the widest array of ability, without the diverse range of perspectives they need to hone their critical abilities, and in environments whose demographic makeup looks nothing like the diverse world in which these future leaders will actually live and work.
For America’s education system to truly function as it should—as the great engine of opportunity in our democracy—talent must be able to rise. If the brightest students from the poorest segment of our society cannot reliably make it to our top institutions, the system is broken and we all lose.
America’s elite colleges and universities should be setting the pace when it comes to economic diversity, and yet, despite their best efforts, most are not. These institutions share a greater responsibility to solve this problem not only because they have the financial resources to help but also because they wield tremendous power: Their standards and practices have an impact throughout the higher-education system, and their graduates go on to exercise a disproportionate influence in all areas of national life.
Most institutions are eager to help and over the past several decades have expanded their financial-aid policies and budgets so that they are within the reach of more and more prospective applicants. So why hasn’t the distribution of students across the economy changed all that much?
We have not done enough to close the admission gap—and it’s not just a question of money. Elite institutions must acknowledge that over time, unwittingly and with the best of intentions, we have constructed admission and financial-aid systems that now serve as barriers to low-income students. And the higher-education sector as a whole must work collaboratively to resist competitive pressures—driven by superficial rankings and the scramble to survive in a world of limited resources—and draw more low-income students into the pool of college applicants, rather than fighting over the few who currently find their way there. Collectively, we can build bridges that such students can cross in large numbers.
To make progress will require concerted efforts on many fronts and the dedication of senior administrators, staff, faculty, students, alumni, trustees, and other stakeholders. We must acknowledge and work to counteract the inherent bias in elite college admissions that favors students who can afford SAT coaching and unpaid internships rather than disadvantage those who must work to help cover family expenses. We should understand that low-income students’ SAT scores may be lower than usual because they had no coaching and less time to study, and adjust accordingly. We must seek out applicants from communities where the top schools in the country are not household names and reach out to high schools we have never visited. Partnerships with great organizations like QuestBridge, a nonprofit group that links talented low-income students with colleges and scholarships, are key to making inroads in underserved communities. Amherst, where I served as president, created a “telementoring” program through which current low-income students mentor by phone and e-mail those promising high-school students from similar backgrounds through the college-application process, from researching schools to comparing financial-aid packages.
Elite institutions also need to look for the best transfer students from community colleges and dismantle admission policies that make it difficult for these students to be competitive, including the limited provision of financial aid for transfer students. The elite sector as a whole can learn from women’s colleges, many of which have longstanding and very successful community-college transfer programs.
Amherst has built partnerships with local and regional community-college administrators, faculty members, and transfer counselors, establishing clear expectations about the caliber of students it seeks and the kinds of courses for which it will award transfer credit. Nearly two-thirds of Amherst’s transfer slots are now allocated to community-college students, and they are thriving: The average GPA of Amherst’s community-college transfer students is greater than that of the total student body, at one of the most selective colleges in the land.
Colleges should provide the most generous financial aid they can sustain, and work to reduce the burden of student loans. We must also be mindful that low-income students and their families are often deterred by the price tag of a college education, not understanding the financial aid that may be available and how that process works. We need to do a much better job explaining the price and value of the education we provide, and make the process much clearer to families with little prior experience of higher education. And we must recognize that many are daunted by the very process of applying for aid, and rightly so—the Free Application for Federal Student Aid form that students must fill out is more complicated than most tax returns.
Despite the original aim of making college more accessible, we have constructed a financial-aid system that enshrines the principle of equity at the cost of social justice. We too often squander our time and resources evaluating incredibly fine distinctions of assets and income, when a simpler system would yield much the same results and would eliminate a significant obstacle to access for low-income families.
Amherst has demonstrated that higher education can do better. It has recruited students from across the country and society and economy, looking for talent at community colleges and engaging students, faculty and staff members, and alumni in the effort. Since 2003, Amherst has roughly doubled the proportion of students coming from the bottom 40 percent of the population in terms of income—the proportion now stands at about 25 percent. Looking more broadly at enrollment, students of color now make up about 40 percent of all its enrollees, with international students accounting for an additional 10 percent.
The results have been terrific. As the applicant pool in every category has widened, the academic credentials of every cohort that Amherst tracks have risen. The students may not look like they did a generation ago, but they learn and think to the same high standard—in fact, to a higher standard. People who say that greater inclusion means lower quality could not be more mistaken. Diversity and selectivity are not in conflict—they reinforce one another. And when I asked our students why they came to Amherst, the diversity of the campus community became the most prominent answer.
As just one example of the kinds of students Amherst is reaching, there is a current student who is the son of a taxi driver and a factory worker. He dropped out of high school, then later decided to further his education at a community college. After he came to Amherst, when I asked him whether it felt strange to be studying in a place of such privilege, he brushed my question aside and said that he had never felt more at home anywhere and that it was good to finally be in a place where people liked books and debated ideas. He is now one of Amherst’s top students and a breathtaking poet, and won research money through one of Amherst’s most competitive programs for a summer research project on migrant workers.
Education comes down to the people in the classroom and the people who teach—all of them learning from one another in countless ways. These are the essential raw ingredients. If Amherst is any indication, alumni donors are eager to more generously support the principle of access based on talent. It should inspire us that they are looking to invest not just based on loyalty, but even more for institutions helping to create the kind of society to which we aspire.
The payoff for everyone—students, educators, institutions, and society—is immense. In classes I have taught, having students with varied experiences enriches the conversation and learning. For instance, discussions of economic inequality and opportunity are much more enlightening for all of us when there are participants who can speak from different backgrounds with heart and wisdom, rather than just argue in the abstract or from pre-set political positions.
The challenge for higher education is whether we have the will to leverage the resources that will further ensure access based on talent and potential. This accords with our values, and as if that were not enough, it also makes great educational sense. Frankly, students already understand this—better than their parents do.
