There’s something strange
other students will do that I’ve be-
gun to notice. Occasionally, I’ll
mention my merit scholarship.
This isn’t a frequent occurrence —
while I believe financial transpar-
ency is important, I generally think
it’s in poor taste to go out of my way
to mention my scholarship to other
students. Still, it will come up from
time to time in conversation.
I can’t, I have to go to an event
for my scholarship tonight.
Oh, we know each other
through my scholarship.
Strangely, people will assume
what I really mean is need-based
financial aid. One time, I worked
up the courage to call someone out
on this: No, it’s not financial aid, I
retorted. I have a merit scholarship.
The acquaintance I was speaking
to was immediately apologetic and
explained that they thought I was
really talking about financial aid
because they knew I had grown up
low-income — and because so few
students receive scholarships from
the University of Michigan.
I don’t think people have any
malicious intent when they subcon-
sciously swap the terms “scholar-
ship” and “financial aid.” Never-
theless, it points towards broader
issues with merit scholarships; to
many of my peers, and especially
those who know about my fam-
ily background, I just don’t seem
like the type of person who would
get a merit scholarship. In fact, it
seemed like my financial need was
almost antithetical to the idea that I
could receive a scholarship—a tacit
acknowledgment that merit, as we
commonly understand it, is really
just a proxy for wealth.
My merit scholarship sent me
to college; I doubt I would be at the
University of Michigan without it.
While I’m incredibly grateful for
the donors who have supported
my education, I’ve begun to see
my scholarship as a symptom of a
broken system. More often than
not, scholarships are awarded to
students who need them the least:
Research at New America, a think
tank based in Washington, D.C.,
found that “about two out of every
five dollars these schools provided
in institutional aid went to students
the government deemed able to af-
ford college without need-based
aid.” Harold Levy, former New
York City schools chancellor, ar-
gued in an op-ed for CNN that this
current system of “taking scarce
financial aid dollars from low-in-
come students to give to students
who don’t need it amounts to Rob-
in Hood in reverse – robbing from
the poor to give to the rich.”
So then why do schools still
offer merit scholarships when they
know they aren’t really working?
This nonsensical approach to fi-
nancial aid, in my view, stems from
a narrow idea of what merit really is
— flashy awards, a lengthy resume
of internships and volunteer ex-
periences, near-perfect standard-
ized test scores — and the way that
it ultimately benefits wealthy and
privileged students at the expense
of their less affluent peers. In a time
where college is increasingly unaf-
fordable and socioeconomic mo-
bility is declining, the implications
are clear: It’s time to abolish merit
scholarships.
***
In March of my senior year
of high school, I received an email
from the University’s admissions
office. Initially, I thought it was a
scam. The email was short, my first
name was misspelled and it was of-
fering something that seemed too
good to be true. But it wasn’t. I
was awarded the Stamps Scholar-
ship, a full-ride award named after
the same wealthy donors who fund
the Art & Design program at the
University. All admitted fresh-
men are automatically considered
for the Stamps Scholarship; the
admissions office passes along in-
formation about students who may
be a good fit and that pool is then
narrowed down to a final list of re-
cipients.
I don’t think I fit the profile of
a typical full-ride recipient. I don’t
say this to be humble — I think I
worked hard in high school and
earned my spot at the University.
But nothing about me was truly
exceptional compared to my peers.
I had good grades, but only in the
context of my low-performing rural
high school. I did well on standard-
ized tests, but was far from a perfect
score. I did plenty of extracurricu-
lars, but didn’t achieve any sort of
national recognition for them.
Merit is a floating signifier,
something that can point to what-
ever combination of attributes is
convenient at a given moment.
GPA and test scores, although
deeply flawed, can provide some
objective benchmark of achieve-
ment, although merit scholarships
typically take a more holistic view
of students, considering their ex-
tracurricular activities, leadership
positions and volunteer experi-
ence. It’s been widely researched
that affluent students score higher
on standardized tests. What’s
more difficult to articulate is the
relationship
between
essays,
extracurriculars and wealth. Re-
searchers at Stanford University
found that the content and quality
of applicants’ essays had a stron-
ger correlation with household
income than SAT scores.
Although this connection is
subtle, once you see it, it’s hard not
to notice it. The kinds of flashy ex-
tracurriculars, moving personal es-
says or prestigious national awards
that put students on the track to
merit scholarships are all a func-
tion of access: who goes to a school
that can offer those opportunities,
who can afford to travel to national
competitions, who can take a lead-
ership position because they don’t
need to work, who has adults in
their life that can help them with
their essays (or worse, who can
hire an admissions consultant).
HALEY JOHNSON
Statement Correspondent
Design by Iris Ding
2 — The Statement // Wednesday, April 12, 2023
Merit scholarships sent me to college.
Now, I think we need to abolish them
Read more at MichiganDaily.com