Commentary

The Fallacy of the “Phillips” Glory

The “Phillips” of high schools is the Gucci of the fashion industry, the caviar of the dishes on a menu – a rarity of high quality. The name conjures the image of prodigies discussing philosophy over dinner tables, walls in the athletic building slouching from too many accolades, and students borrowing piles of books from the library. The name “Phillips” acts like an adjective that describes the towns of Andover and Exeter; a word that transforms a mediocre town into glory everyone chases after. In spite of the prestige, doubt inevitably arises. What truly lies beneath the veil of glory over the two Phillipses?

Since I matriculated at Phillips Academy last August, people have commented on how “intelligent” I must be to attend the alleged “best” high school in the United States. My Korean friends sent direct messages on Instagram, expecting me to answer the seven wonders of the world (or perhaps the eighth: how does Phillips admission work?). The “Phillips Academy” sticker on my laptop cover served as an impenetrable shield; the Big Blue hoodie acted as armor. Bypassers peeked curiously at the blue merch, looking into my face and back down as though judging whether I looked smart enough for the school. Frankly, each time such glimpses hit me, I felt special, as though my attendance at the niche-ranked second-best high school in the United States transformed me into a George Bush or a John Fitzgerald Kennedy Jr. However, after several months of exploring Andover beneath the blindingly shiny surface, I realized that the name-brand of Andover truly is merely a name-brand. 

Phillips Academy’s average annual admissions rate stands at nine percent, one of the lowest among private high schools in this country. Applicants pour their souls into their applications to prove their competence: writing essays on their “unique” journeys, submitting extracurricular activities, and providing athletic highlight videos. Diverging from expressing ourselves, all applicants desperately aim to prove that they trump the 91 percent of other applicants. Puppy-eyed applicants, including my past self, expected Phillips Academy to be an Olympus crowded with geniuses in all fields, athletes with the highest honors, and angels with warm hearts. Even though many students at Phillips Academy do own commendable hearts and exceptional brains, I often ponder whether these characteristics are exclusive to the highly ranked boarding schools. The Bronx High School Of Science, a public school in New York City, is the top school in debate according to the National Speech and Debate Association. Boston Latin School, another public school in Boston, is ranked first among high schools in Massachusetts by the US News. Likewise, though the Phillipses have more zeros in a bank account to fund their students, the prestige of the school is irrelevant to the capacities of the students.

Judging and defining students’ capacities by the Niche ranking of the school destroys our genuine evaluation of others. First impressions play a significant role in our view of others; likewise, quick assumptions about individuals based on their educational institutions hinder our capacity to sincerely engage with others. This fallacy applies to colleges and high schools: attending an Ivy League or one of the top ten boarding schools does not necessarily mean you are more intelligent than students in community colleges or public high schools. Perhaps one’s acceptance and matriculation may prove that one was passionate enough about your education to apply for a resourceful school with a top-notch education. Alternatively, it may suggest that the students were raised in a privileged background with enough wealth and connections to consider applying to such institutions.  However, matriculation does not prove any other facets of an individual. What matters more is how one utilizes resources and works towards their passions. Independently volunteering for a neighborhood’s elderly home due to the lack of community engagement opportunities in school or creating a debate team in a public high school for the first time expresses one’s capacity to construct opportunities for one’s passion, disregarding the socioeconomic and mental boundaries that may suppress us. The question must be “How did you utilize the given resources?” rather than “What educational institution do you attend now?” 

Numerous Phillips Academy and Phillips Exeter students enjoy assuming that they can easily beat teams from public high schools in competitions. It is now time for the two Phillipses to admit that we are not our Niche rankings. Rather, we should actively listen and understand people before making flimsy assumptions.