NCSA travels the country every day to educate student athletes, families and coaches about the recruiting process. Most of the time we talk to athletes that have already decided to play sports in college. However, since recruiting starts early than ever, sometimes we talk to athletes who are still on the fence if they want to pursue an athletic scholarship. For those students I wanted to share an essay from a Columbia Women’s Basketball Athlete, Lauren Dwyer. She does a great job conveying why so many high school athletes aspire to continue their athletic career in college.
A notion floats around campus that athletes get accepted to Columbia because of our athletic capabilities, implying that we didn’t have to work as hard for this opportunity as the non-athletes. I’d propose a different way of considering the situation based on priorities, values, and merit.
When we host recruits—high school basketball players we want to come to Columbia and play for us—we tell them why we came here, championing all the benefits that come with attending Columbia. My generic spew: It’s the best of everything—Division I athletics, an Ivy League education, the best city in the world with the feel of a tight-knit campus community, plus innumerable resources and opportunities at your fingertips. This paints quite a rosy picture of life here—we usually mince the details about the challenges that come with this perfect-on-paper experience.
Pressure is everywhere at Columbia—no one escapes it. Imagine also feeling the need to prove yourself to everyone around you at every turn. It can get exhausting, but we’re athletes—we don’t like to reveal any weakness.
I see two worlds that we student-athletes mainly occupy: Columbia University and Division I athletics. In both worlds, we are anomalies. In both worlds, “smart athlete” is almost considered an oxymoron.
But that’s what we are—it’s what we have to be. We are expected, just like every other student here, to perform in the classroom to the best of our ability. Further, we have to prove that our best academic efforts rival those of our non-athlete peers, despite the fact that we take the same classes, get graded according to the same scale, and have the same requirements—minus physical education, that is. We get enough of that on a daily basis. Thus, in every class, we work for the elusive A+ and to dispel the stereotype of the “dumb jock.”
A notion floats around campus that athletes get accepted to Columbia because of our athletic capabilities, implying that we didn’t have to work as hard for this opportunity as the non-athletes. I’d propose a different way of considering the situation based on priorities, values, and merit. I wasn’t born worthy of D-I basketball player status. Nor was it a tradition passed down to me. My dad does like to swim, but even though I love him for it, it is sometimes painful to watch him rebound for me. Before every game, my mom tells me, “Have fun!”—which I appreciate and do my best to accomplish, but it’s far from a pep talk. In other words, I didn’t get to where I am today because of natural-born talent—I got here by working hard at something I love. I made basketball my priority during high school, just as some of my peers made music or community service or new business ventures their priority. Every Columbia student has something extremely special about him or her, and I consider my specialty to be my love for basketball.
In the other world, Division I athletics, we have to prove our passion for athletics. It confuses other D-I programs that we would give education such value. While basketball is my top priority, my education and future are always on my mind, too. Other programs see these as “distractions,” but Columbia sees them as necessities. Because of this, every time we step onto the court, run onto the field, get in the water, or whatever, we have to prove that we can excel simultaneously at both academics and athletics. We have to show that we deserve to compete with the other D-I programs in the country, while also taking full, challenging course loads. Here, we work to contradict the stereotype of the physically inferior scholar.
This is the duality of being a Columbia athlete. We come to the gym after pulling an all-nighter to finish a paper so we can give it our all in the early morning conditioning workout we have before classes start. We play a game against our rival and then sprint across campus to make it to our discussion section in time. We take the LSAT, MCAT, and GRE, and do interviews while sipping on recovery shakes and icing our injuries. We don’t do it for money, we don’t do it for fame—we don’t do it for anyone but our team and ourselves. We love our sport, we love our team, we love our school. We want others to have this rewarding experience as well, so we sell our recruits on these notions, trusting that they will bear the challenges with the same grace that our predecessors have shown for generations. We know the words to our school song so we can support the entire athletics community, singing raucously, “Roar, Lion, Roar!”
The author is a Columbia College junior majoring in American studies and English and comparative literature.