The final edition of my high school’s newspaper my graduating year listed the post-high school intentions of every senior. It was stated that the Universities of Illinois, Wisconsin, and Iowa were the “top three colleges” of the LHS Class of 1992.

Really?

Being the nerd that I was (and still am), I counted the responses. The number one college, by far, with over one-third of graduates, was the College of Lake County, our local community college.

I knew what they meant. They meant “the top three colleges that we’re not embarrassed about”.  But it still bothered me. By merely wording it as the “top three universities” they could have avoided the falsehood. It was as if they intentionally used the pool of colleges that included the College of Lake County just so they could ignore it.

You probably surmised that I attended the College of Lake County.

The College of Lake County, CLC, was the perfect environment for me. I was just starting to mature as a student. I did not yet have the academic wherewithal to thrive in a competitive environment. I didn’t have the organizational skills to both live independently and be a successful student.  

These were developed while attending CLC. 

Additionally, the financial burden of sending two kids to universities at the same time would have been onerous for my parents. I still remember the cost of my first semester at CLC: $33.10 per credit.

Kids in my high school had names for CLC: College of Last Chance. College Lost in a Cornfield.

I created my own: College of Leftover Cash.

During the second semester, I noticed people at CLC from my high school graduating class. I remember running into one in the men’s room.

“How’s it going?”

“Good, Bob. Nice to see you.”

“I thought you went to Indiana.”

Sheepish smile. “I partied out.”

CLC gave me both confidence and humility. By giving me the skills I needed, I developed the confidence I needed to earn my bachelor’s, and then three advanced degrees. By starting at a “lowly” community college, I’ve felt the need to prove myself over and over.

When a student attends a community college, and subsequently earns a bachelor’s degree from a four-year institution, there is no asterisk on the diploma saying where they started. Their degree is the same as the student who spent all four years (or more) at the four-year college. But when people ask me where I went to college, I say, “I started at the College of Lake County…” I typically get one of two reactions. One is, “I also started at a community college.” The other is, “I wish I had gone to a community college. I would’ve saved a lot of money.”

Starting at a four year college makes sense for some people. Some students are so academically advanced, there are few classes at a community college that would fit their needs. Others are offered such an excellent financial package as an incoming freshman that it would be foolish to take a chance on getting a similar deal two years down the road. There are many reasons for choosing one college over another, but it’s folly to shame a college because of its lack of competitive admissions.

I once read a quote that said, “College is a match to be made, not a prize to be won.” So true. As a kid, 18 looked like the finish line. At 42, I see it was the starting gate.

My wife and I have a daughter who is a freshman in high school. From a very early age, she demonstrated exceptional intellectual abilities. It’s tempting to think of your kid as an elite and have Ivy League dreams. But I’m reminded: College is a match to be made, not a prize to be won. Our community college has so much to offer: an honors program for accelerated students and an excellent pre-engineering program that, if completed, guarantees admission to the College of Engineering at the University of Illinois. I will be proud if my daughter starts at a community college. When I speak with her, she has her mind firmly set on community college, followed by “wherever life may take me”.  By starting at a community college, she will have more financial resources to allow her to go wherever life may take her.

Twenty years after graduating, I was in my old high school to use the pool. I walked by the guidance office and saw a display. It stated the top three colleges for LHS graduates were the University of Illinois, Wisconsin, and Missouri.

Argh!

In the school where I teach, I noticed at commencement, in addition to mentioning how many graduates are going to college, they sometimes make a special announcement of how many plan to go to elite colleges. After an exhaustive Internet search, I haven’t learned what defines an “elite” college. Ten percent acceptance rate? Tuition above $50,000 per year? Professors with leather elbow patches on tweed jackets?  

How about we make a special announcement of students who plan to graduate from college debt-free?

Recently, my district published an annual report. It was beautiful. It listed many of the accomplishments our students, staff, and community are proud of.

Pages six and seven told about the new, innovative programs we now offer.

Pages eight and nine told about students who excelled in academics, athletics, and the arts.

Pages ten and eleven told about employees who had been recognized as distinguished educators.

Page 13 stated, “Illinois State University, Iowa State University, and the University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign are the top three schools the class of 2016 is attending.”

Argh again!

After 24 years, I had enough. I e-mailed the person who put the report together. I asked if we really had more students attending those three schools than our community college.

Gotcha!

She acknowledged that it wasn’t worded correctly, that, in the future, it should be identified as “four-year schools” to avoid confusion. Factually, that would be an improvement. But it would still be a slight to community colleges.

I’ll take what I can get, but I would prefer that we would be just as proud of every student who takes the next step of their life journey at their best possible match.