{shortcode-d2b7389817789ce87d41a0d1fe7c1023d547bcee}

Many would argue that college always has been, and always will be, more difficult than high school. But that’s okay, right?

For students like Jazlynn S. Landeros, a freshman at the University of Utah, the reality has been far messier. Landeros recalled that, at times, it could be more of a struggle to understand dated academic writing than it was to understand the concepts themselves.

Landeros’s experience hints at a broader problem: For some students transitioning to college, not only do they have to keep up with the new content they’re being taught, but also simultaneously learn how to navigate academia itself — all without the systemic advantages of their more privileged peers.

Landeros is not alone in this struggle. In the public education system, graduating college is the exception, not the rule. In fact, the research center National Student Clearinghouse found that, among the 2015 graduating class of high schoolers, only 30 percent of students attending low-income schools completed a college degree in the following six years.

Even in Boston Public Schools, the best-funded public school system by per pupil spend out of the largest 100 in the nation, though 66.6 percent of the graduating student body went directly to college in 2015, 47.8 percent of those who reached college did not graduate within six years. Instead of graduating, many of these students were likely stuck paying off loans for a degree they never received.

Within BPS’ statistics on six-year college completion, there are significant racial disparities. Only 42.6 percent and 42.0 percent of Black and Latine BPS 2015 graduates who immediately enrolled in college, respectively, completed college within six years. In contrast, this rate was 73.4 percent for white students.

These socioeconomic and racial disparities hint at a broader problem: The transition to college, if even an option, is far harder for marginalized students to navigate. Oftentimes, students coming from underprivileged schooling backgrounds are left far behind their peers when they enter higher education.

Persistent Imposter Syndrome

Many marginalized students are well aware of the life-changing impact that admissions to elite colleges can have for them. And though access to college can be a blessing, it can also be a curse.

Many less privileged students experience the anxiety of feeling out of place in their newfound privileged positions, constantly haunted by the fear that they are undeserving of the opportunities they have received. That feeling of displacement is what we call “imposter syndrome.”

“Honestly, one of the things I struggled with the most was that super bad imposter syndrome,” Landeros said.

Aryenne Ysabelle Almilla Rodrigo ’27, a graduate of the Filipino public school system, also recalled her initial struggles with imposter syndrome when she arrived on campus.

“When you get to know other people and you realize how amazing they are, their background, you feel like, ‘Oh, what am I doing here? Do I even belong here?’ because these are people who are very accomplished, and I am just someone from the other side of the world,” she said.

While I cannot speak for Landeros or Almilla Rodrigo, I know for a fact that I experience imposter syndrome because access to elite institutions like Harvard never has been, and never will feel ordinary to me.

At a college where 67 percent of students come from the top 20 percent of families by income as of 2017, and 37.1 percent of the Class of 2025 went to private secondary schools (as compared to 9 percent of K-12 students in the country at large in 2019), such a perspective is hard not to reach as a low-income student.

Landeros shared a similar perspective on the extraordinary nature of higher education — noting the contrast between her view and her peers’.

“Because I was a first-gen student, there was such a value of education in my household and it was so important because it’s not really something that is automatically given to you; it’s a privilege that you have to earn,” she said.“I feel like here, at this school, it’s not seen the same way. It’s just another step of life, whereas to me, getting to college was everything.”

As Annette P. Lareau posited in her book “Unequal Childhoods: Class, Race, and Family Life, With an Update a Decade Later,” when presented with greater resources, working class and poor children tend to feel a sense of constraint, rather than the entitlement experienced by middle-class children — a pattern that perfectly matches our experiences.

The Lie at the Heart of Imposter Syndrome

The logical extension of imposter syndrome — the belief that someone ‘more qualified’ deserves your place — is built upon a meritocratic lie.

Meritocratic ‘achievement’ is largely only possible to the extent that your background allows opportunity in the first place. As a result, when first-generation, low-income students compare their resumes to those of their private school counterparts, it can be easy for them to walk away feeling less than.

On face, private and public secondary schools might look comparable: In the 2011-2012 academic year, the average tuition for a private high school was similar to the government funding allocated to public schools. But once we remove private religious schools from the picture, the difference becomes clear: That same year, average nonsectarian private secondary school tuition was approximately double the funding allocated to public schools.

When wealthy families attempt to buy their children educational opportunities through private schools, they succeed — leaving public school students behind.

Thus, the supposedly simple transition from secondary school to higher education is made trying — especially for FGLI students coming from high schools with drastically fewer resources.

While universities may tell their students time and time again that they deserve their spot in spite of the imposter syndrome, it’s understandable why students find it hard to believe them: College admissions broadcast the opposite message to students. So long as universities continue to evaluate whether or not a student deserves higher education on the basis of an incomplete picture that does not fully capture the crucial socioeconomic and racial context of students’ lives, students will do the same when evaluating themselves.

The end result has been and will continue to be universities dominated by wealthy, white, private school students, where everyone else can’t help but question if they belong. And in a post-affirmative action world where a significant drop in students of color from ivory tower institutions is predicted, it’s bound to get worse.

Getting Ready for College

Imposter syndrome cannot be properly dealt with unless institutions of higher education themselves change: in their admissions messaging, their exclusivity, and their accessibility.

But changes in universities alone are not enough to fix this entrenched problem. So how can secondary schools better prepare students for higher education?

We must increase the presence of college-level material in high school classrooms. By introducing high school students to these concepts sooner, the double burden of learning content and how to navigate university life for marginalized students will be drastically reduced.

Many would be quick to suggest offering more Advanced Placement courses in public high schools. As a student who took many such classes, my experience has been that these courses are far from guaranteed to contain college level content, let alone exposure to scientific writing or social science theory.

Instead, public schools can facilitate partnerships with local community colleges, allowing high school students to engage with college-level content far earlier. These programs have been shown to lead to higher levels of college enrollment, credit accumulation in high school, and college completion — helping level the educational playing field.

Currently, at every level, the American educational system seems to leave disadvantaged students behind, while praising the most privileged students for making the most of opportunities only they can access.

It doesn’t have to be this way. It’s time for an educational reckoning — starting with an adequately preparatory education system, before students get to college.

Joseph W. Hernandez ’25, a Crimson Editorial editor, is a Government concentrator in Adams House. His column, “Boston: Education’s Capital City,” runs tri-weekly on Fridays.

{shortcode-934cd5dbf13aec0f98a49f6aaaa89a033bea939e}