[Hank 91]

I've had lots of conversations about this with my Stanford friends. My four years at Stanford were the best four years of my life up to that point, and the University is obviously still a brobdingnagian part of my life today. I would give anything for my children to have that experience, but NOT ONCE have I ever said these words to any of my children: "When you grow up and go to Stanford..." It might be better that my children don't feel those expectations directly, but they have eyes. They see the Stanford football helmet in the office, the Stanford football that runs my life in the fall, and the Stanford t-shirts and sweatshirts that fill my drawers. They also know that all of my best friends in life were dormmates of mine at Stanford.
My oldest daughter is in the eleventh grade and considering colleges, but she won't have the numbers for Stanford, and I doubt she'll apply. I could never be disappointed in her -- she's amazing in so many ways -- but I regret that she won't get to spend four years in such an amazing place.

On a related note, I remember a conversation I had while walking into the Rose Bowl before a game with UCLA two years ago. A teenage kid, clearly in high school, was walking through the tunnel with his mother. He noticed the "Stanford Alumni" printed on the back of my Nerd Nation t-shirt, and earnestly asked me, "How do people actually get in to Stanford?" I just shrugged my shoulders and said, "It's like getting struck by lightning, and we all know it."

[Hank 91]

I've had lots of conversations about this with my Stanford friends. My four years at Stanford were the best four years of my life up to that point, and the University is obviously still a brobdingnagian part of my life today. I would give anything for my children to have that experience, but NOT ONCE have I ever said these words to any of my children: "When you grow up and go to Stanford..." It might be better that my children don't feel those expectations directly, but they have eyes. They see the Stanford football helmet in the office, the Stanford football that runs my life in the fall, and the Stanford t-shirts and sweatshirts that fill my drawers. They also know that all of my best friends in life were dormmates of mine at Stanford.
My oldest daughter is in the eleventh grade and considering colleges, but she won't have the numbers for Stanford, and I doubt she'll apply. I could never be disappointed in her -- she's amazing in so many ways -- but I regret that she won't get to spend four years in such an amazing place.

On a related note, I remember a conversation I had while walking into the Rose Bowl before a game with UCLA two years ago. A teenage kid, clearly in high school, was walking through the tunnel with his mother. He noticed the "Stanford Alumni" printed on the back of my Nerd Nation t-shirt, and earnestly asked me, "How do people actually get in to Stanford?" I just shrugged my shoulders and said, "It's like getting struck by lightning, and we all know it."