What’s worse? Wealthy parents paying hundreds of thousands of dollars to get their kids into prestigious universities and colleges? Or being paid $1,000 to write an admission essay for the son of a wealthy man?
I wrote that admissions essay. I was the “storyteller” in the office of a wealthy family, and was assigned this task. The son had blown his SATs — he never wanted to go to college; he wanted to be a filmmaker — so the family had made a large donation to a well-known Christian college. The donation no doubt would have been enough to admit the son, but the family thought “written proof” of his scholarship would independently justify the college’s admission decision. The son graduated from that college, is now married and living in Los Angeles as a filmmaker thanks to connections made available to him after his father made a large donation to the charity of a former “American Idol” judge.
Needless to say, the stunning college bribery scam now making headlines has both shamed and infuriated me. Yes, the system is rigged, and yes, I participated in the rigging. I said nothing when the father paid someone (who are these people?) to renew his driver’s license, to excuse him from jury duty, to acquire front-row tickets for his kids two hours before a Coldplay concert that had been sold out for months, and to arrange for a proxy to take a required test so he could maintain his broker license. I had signed a non-disclosure agreement. I looked the other way. I was making a lot of money. This family needed me. I was set for life.
Most of you know that when my usefulness to this family waned — no more children needed admissions essays and the father filed for divorce — I lost my admission to this family as well as a steady source of income for 25 years. I also lost connections. As I texted a friend yesterday, I ended up being screwed by a man who asked me to save his son and other family members from being screwed. Among the wealthy and privileged, no good deed goes unpunished.
No, I’m not starving in Venezuela; no, my right leg hasn’t been amputated so I can be extracted from Syrian bombing rubble; no, I’m not dodging bullets in the inner city of Chicago. However, I am a victim of an injustice I participated in — perhaps even sanctioned — and I am ashamed and furious that this injustice starved, crippled and bled out my career.
On Monday, March 4, I made the Lenten decision to forgo liquor of any kind until Easter Sunday. I haven’t had a drink since then. Don’t get alarmed — I never really drank on what I called, “school nights,” and was never drunk on the weekends, but I was concerned by the “psychic space” drinking occupied in me. So now that the liquor is gone, I’ve had more space to think, pray, contemplate, create, whatever. My thoughts have become quite crystal. Prior to March 4, I most likely would have responded to this college bribery scandal with the usual disdain I have for the wealthy who can afford to rig the system. But now I see so very clearly how I colluded, how easy it was for me to sell my soul. It’s not a pretty picture.
Image at top of post: “9/11 Introspective #4,” Jennifer Drucker, photographer; Image at bottom of post: “Nude with Blue Arm,” Ann St. John Hawley, watercolor, 1998. From the private collection of Sharon J. Anderson
First, this fucking plugin will be the death of me. Since its major update, there have been three subsequent updates to fix major issues. Like an idiot, I installed all the updates. The second update worked — which is why you received last Friday’s notification — but the third update to fix minor issues with the second, disabled the second.
I have not idea how to fix this. I apologize.
Second, about the topic of this post . . .
Be honest . . .
Have you ever held your tongue around a wealthy and/or powerful person because you were afraid you’d get fired, etc,? How many times did you stay mute when a wealthy or powerful person or someone over you said something cruel (i.e. racist, sexist, homophobic, etc.) because you didn’t want to jeopardize your job and/or position? How many times have you said/thought, “It doesn’t pay to burn bridges” when the bridge you didn’t want destroyed was a judgmental, self-righteous one that nevertheless kept your options open for brighter opportunities ahead?
Be honest.
I believe that the fact that the email notifications did not work is God’s confirmation that I am a fraud.
Oh, sweet Jesus, the clarity wrought by sobriety! Praise the Lord.
For those of you who believe that injustice has nothing to do with your own behavior or actions — is this how you justify yourself?:
“It wasn’t MY behavior. It was NOTHING I did. I had no choice. I was an employee. I was the Campaign Chairman. I was the National Security Advisor. I was the Fixer. It was my job.”
It doesn’t matter whether the bribe was a half a million dollars or $1,000 — it’s all the same hypocrisy, the same greediness, the same fraud.
Guess I’m just talking among my many fraudulent selves this morning. That’s okay. It’s hard to witness someone spewing venom all over herself. Just look away.
Yesterday when Federal Court Judge Amy Berman Jackson sentenced former Trump campaign chairman, Paul Manafort, she said, “This defendant is not public enemy number one, but he’s also not a victim, either.”
Manafort was not the only one who stood convicted when she said that.
For those of you who need a reprieve from my pathetically self-indulgent comments (“Oh, it’s always about you, isn’t it?” my mother always said), today is the 18th anniversary of the death of my sister, Karen, from MS complications. She died a mean and hideous death, slowly drowning in a sea of her lungs.
You have no idea the discipline I’m using at the moment not to make this comment about me (which of course, I just did).
“I believe that the fact that the email notifications did not work is God’s confirmation that I am a fraud.”
Oh, Sharon! No! No! No! Yes, you did something fraudulent. I have done so too. I suspect there’s not a one of us among your readers who hasn’t committed fraud in one way or another, though most of us don’t have our fraudulence hit us in the face with a major news story! I suspect, as well, that few of us are as honest about it as you are. To name yourself a “fraud,” however, or to name any of the rest of us as frauds is to fail to see the “whole” of yourself and of the rest of us. “Labels” are never healthy. They squish us down to one aspect of ourselves and can leave us wallowing in guilt. I don’t believe that God has any box of labels wherever it is that God is. That God slaps one of those labels on us and that’s that. I so believe that God sees all of who we are, the good, the bad, the ugly, and still–still!–shines God’s face on us. That bright light does sometimes show up our weaknesses and failings, but it also shows us the way of confession and lights the road to wholeness and healing. And YOU, in this honest piece, have pointed us all to the road of wholeness and healing. Thank you!
So sorry the notifications aren’t coming through. Thank you for catching this and letting us know. Hope this can get straightened out!
This is a very powerful post, Sharie. I have read it three times and still cannot find the right words to respond. I do not equate your writing of the admissions essay with the actions these parents in the news took in order to get their children into prestigious schools. You were just trying to survive in a corporate world filled with greed. Your boss should have never put you in that position. Shame on him. Give yourself a break, Sharie. xoxoxo
No, you’re not just talking among your many fraudulent selves, and you are not a fraud! (Neither God nor any of us think so.) I’m saddened to think of Karen’s death, but the good thing about this anniversary is that it brings her to mind, hopefully with warm memories as well as sad.
I can’t think of a time I’ve held my tongue around powerful or wealthy people, simply because I’m never around powerful or wealthy people. You know I hold my tongue around my husband’s entire family, since they’re hard core Republicans, but that’s because (1) I’ll never change their opinions and (2) I don’t want to cause a rift in the family. And I rarely feel the need to speak my opinion anyway, as you also know.
Sorry to say I didn’t receive the notification in either In box or Spam.
I’ve been out walking which has been a challenge because a couple of weeks ago, I apparently sprained my right knee while on a long walk and had to walk home 4 miles. I should have called someone, but Adrienne was out of town and it was 7:30 in the morning. Who wants to get out of bed THAT early on a Saturday to drive into the middle of bum-fuck nowhere and pick me up? But I’m paying the price for it now. Anyhoo, I tried walking a little farther today, but I’m still hobbling. Before the sprain, I was walking a 17-18 minute mile. Now, it’s 26-27 minutes. Doesn’t help my overall disgust with myself and life.
Thank you Carol, Merrie Lee and Wendy for posting. Another beloved who doesn’t like to post sent an email. I’ve read all of these comments. Like my right knee, it’s going to take a while for me to not feel awful about helping a wealthy person game the system, not to mention, fuck me.
Guess how many people — especially those with limited means — who are convicted of fraud, etc. get off free because she/he testified, “I was just doing what my boss told me to do.” That’s right: ZERO. Hannah Arendt was on to something in her book, “Eichmann in Jerusalem.” Evil isn’t mostly powerful. The devil is too clever for that. Evil is mostly banal, perpetrated by ordinary people simply following instructions they feel kinda creepy about following, but then they wrestle with justifications, decide to close their eyes and hold their noses, and follow those instructions, anyway.
It’s called capitalism, sin, greed, comfort, whatever and we’re all complicit.
Sorry you are feeling convicted. You were hired to do a job. It is the person who paid you who committed the fraud, as it was with the parents of the students in the news. Also, if the “fix” was already in with acceptance by significant donation, the college’s own integrity is to be questioned.
I’ve never worked for or with the rich and powerful. I have however resigned from a volunteer board position because I thought both the director and board chair were sleazy.
No notifications here either and I am sorry for the aggravation it is causing you. We were hit by “snowmageddon” yesterday and we have just finished a shoveling party with our neighborhood to clear the three foot drifts on everyone’s sidewalks and driveways.
I’ve also been trying to troubleshoot the email notifications problem. Sent a long email to the developer very early this morning, but have heard nothing. Am bracing for an email reply that says I have to know some sort of code/command/magic trick to fix this glitch.
I lost my relevancy about 10 years ago.
I posted my comment before seeing your last one. I still say it’s not on you. Your whole job as a storyteller for that family was to make them look good and you were great at it! Yes, it is a travesty that they didn’t deserve it. If I recall you wrote book reviews for your boss who had never read the books and any number of other things. I don’t believe you are to be convicted for that. It was your job. As with most things it is only in hindsight that you can see what a shitty well paying job it was. The question is, how many people out there are selling their souls every day because they need a job and it is what they’ve been assigned? Many people have to choose between doing what is asked or starting over and as you know, sometimes that is not only a difficult choice, but no choice at all.
Just now seeing Beth’s comment. I read about the snow cyclone in the Washington Post and was wondering if it blew into your neighborhood. Guess it did. A shoveling party sounds fun.
How very wise and lucky you have been never to have to work for or with the rich and powerful. If you aren’t born into wealth and power, it’s hard to walk away once you get a taste. It goes down so easy and so insidiously. Money buys a hellavu lot of self-esteem, at least initially. Once you realize that you paid for this self-esteem with your soul, you’re left with neither self-esteem nor a soul. But hey — I’ve got a retirement account!
So I remember that you wrestled with the assignment at the time. I like Carol’s thoughtful reply. We ALL are complicit with our society’s faults in so many ways–most we do not even recognize. I like our church’s confession that asks for forgiveness for things done and undone and for things done on my behalf. If we accept our sins, we also need to accept forgiveness so that we can keep going.