College admissions scandal hits home

<p>It could have been me.</p><p>As I shoveled organic garden compost into buckets to transport to my daughter and son-in-law’s house, I mulled over the charges of fifty people in federal court as part of a nationwide conspiracy to illicitly gain admission for high school students to top colleges and universities.</p><p>“Oh, how could a parent go that far?” I thought as I dug up the rich soil from Chloe’s raised garden that I had volunteered to move to her new rental home, so she would feel at home raising fresh produce. (Chloe and Michael work long days and had moved the previous Saturday.)</p><p>Among the 50 charged were television stars Felicity Huffman of “Desperate Housewives” and Lori Loughlin of “Full House” and “Fuller House.” Many parents apparently paid $200,000 and up to $6.5 million to have their children admitted to various colleges and universities.</p><p>Both moms were charged with conspiracy to commit mail fraud and honest services fraud. But as I carried the buckets of pure black gold to my CRV, I began to question why I was so appalled about the college admission scandal, which the FBI designated “Operation Varsity Blues.”</p><p>I scoffed to myself: “Parents can be such helicopters.”</p><p>Twenty-four hours later, I found myself in a text discussion about the scandal with my daughters. For some inane reason I asked the question, “Did I ever show my love in a way that was maybe … going overboard?” I expected maybe one child would come up with something after a few hours — nope, my phone was dinging excessively like the New York Stock Exchange bell rings at closing time.</p><p>Alex immediately responded how I helped her laminate her “free admission tickets” that she colorfully created and printed. She then handed them out to her fifth-grade classmates for an amusement park she developed for an assignment in which she had to develop a plan and budget for a $1 million dollar business project.</p><p>In my defense, I did NOT make the $1 million dollar assignment and I am sure I highly suggested she build an orphanage instead of an amusement park.</p><p>My mean first-born — aka Alex — brought up the boxes of Capri Suns I bought, which we rarely drank because of the high sugar content, so she could finish sewing her Capri Sun beach blanket (terry cloth on one side) and Capri Sun purse for 4-H. Her sisters were LOL-ing and chiming in with their own, “Mom is just like Felicity Huffman and Lori Loughlin” stories.</p><p>Anyway, the three daughters that I gifted with life, probably don’t remember that I always bought the Capri Suns on sale and that MY sewing machine was used for such a time as this!</p><p>Alex then reminded me that I actually bought her a goldfish so she could have a visual aid on a science study on dorsal fins — also in the fifth grade. I do not remember this.</p><p>Chloe, the doctor for whom I moved mountains of dirt, chimed in. “So many Capri Sun’s!” she said. Then Chloe HAD to remind me and amuse her sisters.</p><p>“How about the child-size navy-blue blazers she bought so we could win the science fair, and all the scalloped scissors to create good posters?” Again, in my defense, I admit Chloe was only seven, but they did wear those blazers to church too. And I will never be ashamed for teaching my children how to create a nice display — plus I was scrapbooking back in the day, so the 32-pair of special scissors came in handy.</p><p>My third-born, Phoebe — aka mom’s traitor — was LOL-ing in agreement with the scalloped scissors and added that I helped her add rhinestones to junior high Rube Goldberg project, in addition to a high school physics project involving throwing an egg off the roof to see if it survived.</p><p>Again, I do not remember these, as physics and math were always out of my realm of helpfulness. Although,I may have purchased said rhinestones. But again, to my defense, I do remember her egg was one of thirty that actually survived the toss and it looked good.</p><p>So Felicity and Lori, I get it. I never realized if I added up the cost of buying a fifth-grade goldfish, sheets of lamination, navy-blue blazers, scalloped scissors and twelve years of rhinestones for Phoebe, I was also trying to aid my children’s success.</p><p>I think what makes me most proud is when my eldest commented seriously on the college admission scandal, “It’s just sad that the parents think that is what’s most important.”</p>