I find it unnerving that this practice is so rampant. Those who feel this is a relatively isolated problem that will in all likelihood have no bearing on their lives should reconsider. It is precisely this culture that has facilitated the current economic crisis. Spoiled children with no sense of accountability become greedy adults in powerful positions--precisely because people were willing to earn their degrees for them for a fee--who make poor decisions that affect us all.
To those struggling, academically gifted current students and graduates I say YOU are part of the problem. Just because you can do something does not mean that you should. Here in Taiwan, I once visited a study abroad company during my job-hunt. Once I deduced that the company wanted me to "help" students by doing their application essays for them I swiftly declined its advances. I could have made money that way, but what would that have meant for deserving candidates in the States or other countries who were submitting their own work for consideration. Why should a good and diligent candidate lose a spot to someone who is unqualified, underserving and very possibly lazy? Should we really enable these over-indulged, petulant people to succeed academically so they can use their connections to rise in the business world and tank their businesses and the economy along with them?
'TUTORING' RICH KIDS COST ME MY DREAMS
Email To A Friend
Please fill in the following information and we'll email this link.
In Evan's penthouse, surfers carved across the screen of his 51-inch television, next to a poster of "Scarface." The former clothes model handed me his assignment: to describe utopia. "I couldn't ask for a better life. I mean, was my soccer coach," Evan said, naming a famous studio head.
Despite living in utopia, during the session Evan purchased an ounce of weed and a bag of Xanax. His WASPy girlfriend washed down a pill with some Smart Water and offered me one. I declined. Evan sent me home with his $3,000 PowerBook to write his paper because he was "too busy" to work. Before I left, his girlfriend hired me to write her paper on "Do the Right Thing." I drove home at midnight, once again missing my chance to hit the music scene and battle my stage fright.
No matter. After I scored an A on Evan's paper, he promised to pass my demo on to a legendary music producer--a family friend. He also promised a few leftover pairs of designer jeans. He never mentioned either again, and I knew I'd been played. The only help Evan offered came in the form of new clients, such as his roommate, who had one-night stands with strippers and said things like "Why should I care about some little black girl?" in regard to Toni Morrison novels.
When my streak of A's ended after I scored a B-minus on Evan's paper about clanship in "My Big Fat Greek Wedding," I never heard from him again. His teenage sibling, for whom I composed countless high-school English papers, revealed that Evan had replaced me with a classmate.
That summer break, my boss referred me to a junior at a private Christian university who couldn't spell "college." Come fall, the kid leased my brain three hours a day, five days a week. Depressed, I lounged around in my bathrobe until he finished class, then waded through rush-hour traffic to demoralize myself. One day, my Ford Bronco lost all power on the freeway and I could have died. I hadn't played a gig for seven months. I could barely pay my bills because I refused to take on more paper-writing clients.
Last spring, two months shy of my client's graduation date, I snapped while staring at a term-paper assignment on Margaret Thatcher. "I can't do this anymore," I mumbled. I had completed nearly two years of college for him. He replaced me with a teacher about to earn his Ph.D. who charged $15 less per hour than I did.
Discuss