I have no idea if I got into this university because I was a legacy, but I can say for sure that it’s the reason I applied here. I grew up in Virginia, a state with its own fantastic public university, and I went to a small high school in New England that sends, at best, a handful of kids to UNC each year.
If my mom hadn’t gotten her MBA at Kenan-Flagler and fallen in love with Chapel Hill in the process, I’d probably be trudging along in the March slush at some obscure liberal arts school up North right now. I couldn’t be more grateful to be here.
When trying to unpack the reasons behind my visceral sense that legacies should matter, I thought it might be wise to start by understanding what the word means, outside of the context of college admissions jargon.
But far more interesting than the word’s entry in the dictionary were the two sets of synonyms I found under “legacy” in the thesaurus.
The first entry includes words like “inheritance,” “birthright” and “gift.” The second set is along the lines of “consequence” and “spin-off.”
A legacy policy that simply bestows admission on otherwise under-qualified students seems like it would be associated with the first set of synonyms. But one that is seen as a way of strengthening the connections and continuity of generations of Tar Heels is more like the second category — to use one of the words I found in the thesaurus, an “up-shot.”
To me, UNC’s legacy policy falls into the latter category. It is more of a gesture than an admissions practice. And it’s pretty benign when compared with other forms of entrenched nepotism that genuinely contribute to the exclusion of specific groups of people from institutions.
Admissions director Steve Farmer put it this way in a recent article in the Carolina Alumni Review: “In rare occasions, it can be a tiebreaker; in practice, that just doesn’t happen that often.”
UNC’s legacy policy doesn’t run counter to the University’s larger goals of providing an excellent and accessible education to the state’s residents. Instead, it’s a nod to those who cherished their time here and hope to see their children have similarly magical experiences. It’s about connection, not exclusion.
