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Whose Choice Is This, Anyway?
My parents and I just didn't see eye to eye on my college decision.
by Brett Swearingen
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One night during my junior year in high school, Dad sat me down at the dinner table to discuss how my college search was going. Pulling out a notepad, he asked me to list the schools I was considering. He looked a little confused after the first school I mentioned. Then when I finished my list and he realized I hadn't included any engineering schools, he got upset.
"I thought you wanted to be an engineer!"
"Well, I changed my mind," I responded.
He then launched into a half-disappointed, half-angry reply about how I was running away from my strengths.
It was hard to argue with his logic. I knew I was good at math. A career in engineering would make good use of my natural abilities. But I'd already thought through that possibility and decided that working endless equations sounded dry and boring. That's why I'd switched the focus of my search from engineering schools to liberal arts colleges. The problem was, I'd failed to mention my change of heart to my mom and dad. Not a smart move.
For the rest of the evening, my dad and I argued. I tried to convince him of the merit in liberal arts. He told me bluntly I was planning to "waste" my education.
That night I couldn't fall asleep. I kept replaying the same stubborn questions: Who does Dad think he is? I'm choosing a college, not him. What's his problem? At the same time, I was trying to smother the empty, confused feeling in the back of my mind that said my dad might be right. I might be making a mistake.
Eventually, with a little help from my mom, my dad accepted my decision to attend a liberal arts school—but that didn't end the conflict. When the applications I'd sent for began to arrive in the mail, my mom would hand them to me and often comment, "We'd never let you go there." But I ignored her. Her disapproval actually made me more determined to stubbornly bull my way into the school of my choice. My attitude only invited more detailed objections from my parents. "That's too far away! That costs too much! That school isn't Christian!"
One by one they eliminated most of the schools I was considering. But I didn't let that phase me. I had worked hard in high school, and my grades showed it. So I thought I deserved to go to the school of my choice. Ignoring the obvious financial power my parents had over my college decision, I waited for them to come to the same conclusion.
For most of my senior year, my parents and I locked horns. I sent my applications in, two of them to schools that didn't fit my parents' rules, and ignored most of what they had to say. They kind of ignored me, too.
In mid-April we had to call a truce—the final decision had to be made. I found myself staring back at them from across the dining room table, feeling tense and defensive. They began by asking me to name my top choice. I was shocked to discover that their choice was the same as mine!
"When we toured the campus, I could just see you fitting there," my dad admitted.
Wait a minute. Was this really my dad talking?
"My only problem with the school is the price. I just think some other schools are a better deal financially."
I knew it! I knew this was too good to be true.
I couldn't hold back my frustration any longer. "I've done my part," I said to my dad. "I've done everything that could be asked of a high school student. Doesn't that mean I deserve to go to the school of my choice? I mean, isn't that what the American Dream is all about? For crying out loud, what more do you want from me?!" I left the table, awkwardly slamming my chair into its place.
Retreating to the basement, I left my parents to sort out their financial concerns. They're not being fair! my mind screamed. As I paced back and forth across the room, I tried to sort through my anger and bitterness. What was it that had made me so upset?
For the first time in the whole decision-making process, I realized that I wasn't really being fair to my parents. They were, after all, my parents, and I wasn't respecting their role in the decision. I also realized I had forgotten that God was ultimately in control of the situation. Once I confessed my lack of trust in him and agreed to surrender to his plans for me, I began to experience peace about the situation.
Soon, my parents told me I could go to my first choice school. I was overjoyed, of course. And even now, after completing my first year there, my parents and I agree it was the best decision.
Looking back, the mistakes we made are much easier to see. First of all, our family communication was terrible. Choosing a college should have been a team process, but we turned it into a battle. I should've been more vocal about what I was thinking, and my parents and I should have talked more regularly to make sure we were on the same page.
Secondly, I had unreasonable expectations because I compared myself to others. It seemed like other students with grades and achievements similar to mine had better opportunities—they were going to expensive, big-name schools. So I selfishly thought my parents should provide for me to do the same. I was jealous and prideful, and that was destructive in my relationship with my parents.
Last and most importantly, God was left out of the picture. In all my prayers about college, I never once mentioned my parents. I prayed only that God would show me his will. I never prayed with my parents, either. God needed to be the prime focus of our mutual decision, but unfortunately, he never entered our conversations. I'm convinced that praying together during the tense moments before the final decision would have calmed both sides. Prayer helps us see the big picture, with God in the center, instead of looking at issues through our own selfish interests. Sadly, my parents and I neglected the promise of James 1:5: "If any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to him."
Even though we stumbled through the college search, making mistakes right and left, something good came out of the process. My parents and I learned a lot about each other. And after it was over, we found the journey had deepened our relationship.
Brett is a college sophomore planning to major in either political science or history.
Tips to Ease the Tension
Here's help for communicating with your parents.
1. Begin early. Waiting until the last minute to begin your college search will only put you and your parents on edge. So cut down on potential conflicts by starting your search as soon as possible.
2. Discuss expectations. What do you want in a school? What do your parents want for you? How do your expectations differ? What compromises can be made so that both you and your parents are satisfied?
3. Talk often. As you sort through school catalogs and browse college Web pages, you'll probably develop a better idea of what you're looking for in a school. Share your discoveries and your thoughts with Mom and Dad. This will cut down on the kind of surprises that can cause conflict. Your parents will also feel more confident about a decision they've walked through with you.
4. Visit schools together. This is especially important if Mom and Dad will be paying for or helping you pay for school. When you visit, you and your parents will have a chance to ask lots of questions—including ones about financial aid. College is a big investment—your parents deserve to know where their money is going.
5. Pray together. In "Whose Choice Is This, Anyway?," Brett named prayer as a crucial part of the search process. Not only will God grant wisdom to those who ask for it (James 1:5), he grants peace to those who "present their requests" to him (Philippians 4:6-7).
—Amber PenneyCopyright © 2000 by the author or Christianity Today International/Campus Life magazine.
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