I hate being called a “legacy.” I had never heard the expression used in the way colleges do until I started attending college. When I was young, my mother would say that if I ever attended Smith College, I would be the fourth generation to do so. She and my grandmother never pressured me to go, but when I informed my grandmother that I had accepted my admission to Smith, she cried tears of joy. So let me be clear that my disdain for the word is not some internal manifestation of shame about my family. (I swear, Mom, really it’s not.) I’m proud and feel very blessed that I am a fourth-generation Smithie. It is fun knowing the houses that my predecessors slept in and going to the classrooms they learned in too. Yet the term “legacy” does not reflect my feelings or experiences. It might seem silly to be so stuck on one word, but in that word, I find a culture of elitism, snobbery, and a dismissal of everything but the academic institution that demeans both those who aren’t “legacies” and those who are.
Let’s start with the dictionary definition of “legacy.” In Merriam-Webster, the first definition of legacy is “a gift by will especially of money or other personal property.” In light of all the college admission scandals that rocked the U.S. this year, the use of the word “legacy” seems problematic in its relationship to money. It conveys the idea that this student is either let in because of the money given by relatives before or, that because of the student’s acceptance, the relatives will give more money. Either way, it indicates a classist assumption and paints an unflattering picture of why Smith College might want generations of families to attend.
The second definition of “legacy” in Merriam-Webster is “something transmitted by or received from an ancestor or predecessor or from the past.” I hate the idea that I might be nothing more to Smith College than just a version of my mother or grandmother. I’m not going to bring what they brought to the college. Although it is cool to be on the same campus, and I’m grateful for my chance to learn at a wonderful institution, I refuse to walk in exactly the same footsteps as my relatives who came before me. I study different things, I came from a different place, and I’m not exactly sure what it is that I’m supposed to be “transmitting” from my great-grandmother. Smith College is a different institution now than it was then, and I am not her, my grandmother, nor my mother. “Legacy” carries the idea that I am only here because of them: something I desperately hope is not true. In a Gazette article written this year, Smith College spokeswoman Stacey Schmeidel wrote in an email that legacy students “are admitted at only a slightly higher rate than other applicants.” So, hopefully that fear is unfounded and just an unfortunate association with the term “legacy.”
With all of these problems with the word, why continue to use it? There is another perfectly good word already in use. When a student is the first in their family to attend college, they are First Gen students. They carry on amazing legacies of their own families and of other first generation students. Giving a snooty title to those whose families have attended Smith, rather than doing other things, seems to honor only one type of family history. Although it is a history I’m proud to be a part of, giving it a special name seems stupid. Why not just call it “generational Smithies” or something similar? That’s an accurate description, without all the elitism. Although I’d love to connect with other generational Smithies and to hear their stories, if it’s associated with the word ‘legacy” so that Smith College can feel important — count me out.
