With all the talk this past year about colleges offering more "competitive" financial aid packages to attract more meritorious and promising applicants, the problem of colleges maintaining need-blind admissions policies and the University of Pennsylvania's recent decision to offer merit-based financial aid, the premise behind financial aid systems is being seriously threatened.

Financial aid has and should continue to have nothing whatsoever to do with merit. After all, what exactly is "merit"? Being a national winner in some science, essay or music contest? Being intelligent? Having a 4.68 GPA? Scoring a perfect 1600 on the SAT? Well, I guess that's pretty meritorious, I have to admit it. But, no, wait a minute. What is "merit" really? Could "merit" possibly be one of those terms your TF would applaud you for labeling--yikes, I shudder and clench my teeth to use the faddish descriptor--"socially-constructed"?

Yes, bingo! Eureka! You've got it! For what, indeed, determines merit? All those science camps mom and dad sent you to when you were little? That inspiring high-school English teacher, Mr. Perry, who always knew you were a poet inside? Or maybe it was all those grueling afternoons spent practicing the viola when you would have preferred being outside, playing with the kids on your block. Merit is enabled by all of the above and more. Merit is a promise, an investment in human capital. And this investment necessitates time, encouragement and, of course, money.

That is not to say that people haven't necessarily "earned" their merit; no doubt hard work, determination and perseverance play some role in its development.

On the other hand, however, maybe most people have the ability to "earn" what we call a position of "merit," but simply lack the tools to do so. Perhaps they are not so fortunate as the average Harvard student--or the average American college student. Perhaps they did not have a mom or dad who would cheer them on at basketball games. Perhaps they did not have the money to pay for an SAT preparation course. Perhaps they did not think it was even necessary to prepare for the SAT.

Maybe, mom had to work two jobs just to meet the rent, and asking for a viola seemed an incredibly misplaced and futile request. Perhaps their local community was economically depressed. Maybe, instead of Mr. Perry to show them how to release the pent-up emotions inside, they could only muster up a can of spray paint and a freeway underpass.

Okay. Maybe this seems melodramatic and bordering upon ridiculous. But it's true. And this bitter truth is no more ridiculous than the nebulous and elusive word "merit" itself. Let's take a simple example. If two seeds are planted and one is watered, given fertile soil, exposed to sunlight and otherwise nurtured while the other seed is neglected and left in dry, rocky soil in a dark closet, would scientists be correct in stating that the first seed (which sprouted, of course) had "merit" while the second (dead on arrival) did not?

The world is not an equal place. And woe to me if I ever thought that financial aid would be the great equalizer. But financial aid must be reserved for those students who simply do not have the means to pay for their educations. Because chances are, those who would qualify for merit-based scholarships have from a young age had the advantages of money, time and encouragement invested into their human capital. And because funding is limited, we should reserve it for those who need it most--those who perhaps never before had the opportunity to attain this so-called status of "merit."

Who would be the ogre to deny some young, yearning student in the inner city the opportunity to go to the college of his choice because he never was given the gift of "merit"? Who would continue to pigeonhole this person in a closet, without mental nourishment and encouragement, denying him the opportunity of growth and development?

Certainly, merit-based scholarships would be wonderful if financial aid funds weren't limited. But, sadly, they are.

While Harvard students may continue to rally, protest and vocalize passionately about the need for causes like ethnic studies, they pay all-too-little political and vocal attention to financial aid. Maybe that's because of the fact that in spite of all the diversity on this campus, a significant majority come from surprisingly similar backgrounds with regard to their financial need. Perhaps, if and when the College institutes more ethnic studies classes, it will include a class on the "Ethnicity of Poverty" or one called "Lifestyles Beyond the Ivory Tower." Oh, what a different world that would be.

Amber L. Ramage '99, a Crimson editor, is an English and American literature and language concentrator. She is currently on a leave of absence.