Achieving diversity is a complex challenge

The only thing approximating the agony of the college admissions process is watching someone else whom you love endure it. For my sister, senior year and the time of judgment have arrived. She's already suffered through rounds of standardized tests, approached favorite teachers for recommendation, and begun to plot her witty yet profound personal statements. As my sister embarks upon her bid for a spot in the Class of 2009, she joins thousands of other prospective students competing for admission to the University.

All these applicants know some things are out of their control. Independent of high school performance and promise, "accidents of birth" also play a part in the shaping of a diverse freshman class. Children of legacies can expect a boost, while those students who have been able to spend significant time abroad will enrich campus life with their experiences. Geographic minorities may gain an edge by allowing a university to claim students from every state. Trying to turn the system to their advantage, prospective students emphasize those aspects that make them unique.

A friend of mine learned by accident that sharing certain details can earn you a lot of attention. A quarter Hispanic and unsure of which race to check, he indicated Hispanic on an information card for Columbia — the first school he visited — and Caucasian on one for Princeton. While Princeton mailed him the application without fanfare, Columbia called him twice at home in an attempt to make sure he applied.

In a similar grain, a friend whose parents are white South Africans inspired jokes that she could have checked "African-American," since she is of African descent. A third friend who bears an extremely Jewish surname plots to name his child Juan Paolo Gutierres. If the child neglects to check a race box, perhaps the admissions officer will overlook the father's name and be fooled.

These anecdotes make light of but can't completely diffuse the tension surrounding the role of race and ethnicity in college admissions. These factors are perhaps the most controversial reason to award preference.

The affirmative action debate continues in America; some consider the attempt to grant special consideration in employment and admissions unfair and harmful to other candidates. Recent Supreme Court decisions have tended to limit affirmative action, and a 1996 California ballot initiative abolished sexual and racial preferences. The political tide seems to be turning away from such a system of preference.

As Americans, we view education as a means of social mobility. Admission to an elite school like Princeton is a rung on the ladder to the top echelon; as a society that values equality, we want to make that possibility available to everyone of merit. But does the system of preferences currently practiced — especially its focus on ethnicity — actually achieve that end? What does diversity mean, if ability to gain acceptance to a university like Princeton already demonstrates significant access to advantages? Are those in most need of social mobility even reaching the point where they can take advantage of higher education?

A vital part of the Princeton education is interaction with fellow students. As such, the University is justified in its quest to craft a student body with a wide range of experiences, cultures and viewpoints.

But while it's easy to agree upon the importance of a diverse campus environment, there's no easy way to know what that diversity should look like. I don't envy the admissions officers their responsibility.

As for my sister and the rest of this year's applicants, they'll just have to hope that their accidents of birth continue to put them ahead. Emily Stolzenberg is a sophomore from Morgantown, W. Va. She can be contacted at estolzen@princeton.edu.