P. Diddy, education, and opportunity

A few weeks ago, Sean "Diddy" Combs’ son earned a $54,000 athletic scholarship to UCLA. The news sparked a debate about college access and the redistribution of wealth. Even, Bill O’Reilly commented. 

What responsibility does a person whose net worth is nearly one half of a billion dollars have to education as a public good? Does the son of a media mogul really need a merit-based scholarship from a fiscally strapped state school?

Student debt is a hot topic right now, and there are multiple angles to approach the controversy. Some have argued Combs’ son should decline his scholarship, even though he earned it. Financial aid is largely a zero sum enterprise, and Combs' scholarship deprives another student of an opportunity.

I have also heard individuals suggest that all college athletes who go pro should repay their scholarships after graduation. This, to me, seems like the murkiest argument. One former graduate of USC said he tried to get his teammates to repay their athletic scholarships; they scoffed, but he did not explain why. I think it is fair to assume that they felt they earned every penny of their scholarships. How many millions of dollars do universities make from student-athletes? How much will UCLA benefit from having a Diddy attend the school? How much do wealthy alumni donate? Moreover, given our expanding knowledge about football and brain damage, is trading scholarships for the increased likelihood of short and long-term injuries—e.g. trauma, depression, and dementia—ethical? 

When I read about P. Diddy’s son, I immediately thought of a recent interview between Hannah Storm and Kobe Bryant. The notoriously cantankerous phenom talked about maturing as a player and person. He started a charity that has focused on improving the lives of those in need. He discussed the stark contrast that occurred during and after games at the Staples Center. One moment he was surrounded by affluent individuals spending up to $1,500 on tickets to a basketball game and the next he was driving past homeless individuals on Skid Row who were scrounging for a few dollars to buy food. 

If everyone just pitched in a little, he said, we could change lives.

Education is a public good from which we all benefit. What responsibility does a media mogul have to supporting public education? What responsibility do you or I have?

The college hype machine

Teenagers choose colleges based on reputations. The participants in my study often post or talk about wanting to go to universities like Columbia, University of Arizona, USC, or UCLA. Those preferences are not random; they are based on the schools’ images and the students’ reactions to those images. Columbia is an intellectual powerhouse. Arizona has a great basketball team. USC is a football juggernaut. UCLA has a legendary basketball tradition. Unfortunately, reputation doesn’t always equal reality.

Growing up, I cheered for University of Maryland athletics. During my senior year, my father agreed to pay for college. He gave two conditions: First, I had to go to community college for two years. Second, I had to go to the state school. Although I really wanted to attend an Ivy (again, reputation), I loved Maryland. After two years of community college, the choice was easy. In the spring of 2002, the Terps won the national championship. That fall, I matriculated to college. 

Although I love Maryland, the school was the wrong choice. Circumstances changed the week before I began classes. My mother and I were left to finance my education. I commuted an hour to and from campus everyday, and my college experience diverged significantly from most of my peers. During my time in college, I was given little career advice. After graduation, I was left with student loans and no obvious next step.

An undergraduate degree is no longer a golden ticket. 

We often speak in broad strokes: College is important. Go to college. Pick the right school. But, we ignore the details— financial aid, student debt, faculty-to-student ratios, graduation rates (for everyone and for low-income minorities), and career readiness. Those details add up. For a lot of first-generation, low-income college-goers, they are the difference between graduate school and a successful career and returning home and joining the working poor. 

Postsecondary education has become a reality for an unprecedented number of teenagers. What is their reward? Often, they get to spend two years in large seminars where they rarely interact with professors. At best, they are motivated and skilled. They figure out what to do. At worst, they do not receive the support they need and dropout with substantial debts. 

High schools need to do a better job of teaching the right questions to ask, and universities need to be held accountable for the success of their students. This week, a young man I’m mentoring was accepted to USC. He was absolutely ecstatic. I worry he will not have that same feeling four years and five months from now.