One Family's Road Trip

For me, the green hills of upstate New York are more than a lovely landscape—they are a beloved seat of learning. As the 17-year-old product of a big public high school in Pittsburgh, I wanted something different for college. I found it at Colgate University, a leading liberal-arts school nestled in the Chenango Valley. The beauty was inspiring. More important, so were the professors. They produced first-rank writing and research, yet remained dedicated to becoming intellectual mentors and, in my case, lifelong friends.

When it came time for the summer college-tour circuit, I wanted my daughter, Meredith, to see this and become enchanted. After we checked in to the Colgate Inn, I walked up to the campus alone and sat contentedly on a bench in the silent quad. Meredith called home. "Mom," she said, "I've never seen Dad so happy. But there's absolutely nothing here!"

Our time on the rustic roads didn't help. Just east of school, a woodchuck darted in front of our rental car. We heard a sickening little crunch. Meredith's hysteria ceased by the time we reached Middlebury in Vermont. Between Williams and Amherst in western Massachusetts, she hit the radio's search button. Nothing. We had reached the edge of the audio universe. It was called the Berkshires.

I resigned myself to Meredith not applying to Colgate because of the ick factor: her dad, after all, had been a toga-partying student there. I switched to rooting for Middlebury. It was a lot like my alma mater, and I was delighted when she got in. Foolish father. In her heart of hearts, my daughter had no intention of spending a New York minute in the country, no matter how superb the teaching. She claims to have been deeply undecided. Maybe, but I think that she sat still for this particular tour—we call it the "Woodchuck Trip"—mostly for dear ole Dad.

Meredith is now a junior at the University of Pennsylvania. She is an expert on taxis, restaurant and nightclub etiquette, and the deciphering of course-offering directories the size of phone books. She has renowned professors and hard-charging classmates. And I've never seen her so happy.

Here is the lesson for parents. The college search isn't about you. Take the kid where she wants to go, not where you want her to go. And if you do tour the countryside, rent a car with satellite radio.

Howard Fineman is NEWSWEEK's senior Washington correspondent and columnist.