Note:
Students from Africa applying to colleges in America were discussing what it means to be doing this while also wanting to take on American hegemony. When asked my view, I said a few trite things. A lengthy, though perhaps no less trite, consideration of the problem follows. It may or may not be of interest to the general reader.
Dear Students of Mr. Dash:
As I understand it, you are feeling a number of pressures at once: What university will I get into? Will this university be "top rated?" Should I decide to go to university somewhere other than America?
Because . . . . Who will respect me and how will I “succeed” given that my parents and my community and my culture care about degrees from America? What kind of personal, familial, and career risk am I taking if I go to college in Africa? How do I navigate the life I want (whatever that might be) against the life I “should” lead, with “should” defined here by history, family, ALA, the media, and all the rest?
Of course, you want a good life. Of course, you want to win the admiration of your parents and friends. Of course, you are smart and capable and want that to propel you towards your best possible time here on earth.
But then wanting those things and the questions above imply other difficult questions: What does success really mean? How much do you owe those around you or who raised you? What do you owe Africa? And even if you knew the answer to one or all of these, what would be the best path to take? Is, for example, the best way to serve Africa to go to school in America, try to gain access to the rooms of money and power there so that you can return to the Continent with both? Or is that corrupting? Or, anyway, is it more effective to gather resources—power and money—in Africa itself?
Here is the good news: No one knows. You can’t possibly get it wrong because you will never get it completely right.
Say that instead of serving Africa you are all about your own bottom line. You want to make it rain on yourself and your family. Great. It sure looks like going to America will be the thing to do since that’s where, relatively speaking, the money is. Except, wait, what if the Savannah Silicon explodes and becomes an even more important player in tech? What if that explosion rewards people who get in early more than it does those who come back in four years from America? The people who got in early at Apple and made a fortune did so far more because of timing than because of degrees. And lots of people who started working in the early days of Silicon Valley simply knew each other due to their shared interest in new technology, not because they had seen each other’s resumes. What if, from what philosophers call a “God’s eye view,” your best move right now is to go to Nairobi and prove to someone Miss Bilha knows that you will do anything in their office so that you can learn and grow? You work hard and are easy to work with and (like Guy Kawasaki at Apple) wind up far ahead of where you would be, at least in terms of earning power, then if you had gone off to college?
I am not saying you should skip college and go hang out in Nairobi. I am saying that the expected path does not always guarantee what’s promised or what is best. No doubt somebody’s mom or dad said to them, “don’t work with that Steve Jobs guy. He’s a jerk and dropped out of school. Go to college and earn a good living.” Oops.
No one knows the future. No one is absolutely sure what is the best path. And what I am suggesting is that you let that uncertainty be a source of calm rather than a source of stress.
Similarly, before you presume education in Africa or not going to a “top-rated” school in the States is some sort of fatality, let me offer you the names of people on campus not educated in the West:
Lisa, Dave Tait, Anne, David Ouma, Mona, Maya, Pelumi, Sumanah, Keza, Ssanyu, Lina, Phenyo, Keshav, Mr. Keen
I got this list from Mr. Dash, who also, by the bye, stayed in Africa for his university. Some of these people I know a little, some I do not know at all. Thus, in no way do I presume to speak for them. But would you say they screwed up? Are they unimpressive? Do they lack capacity? Are not most of them engaged by the work they do with their work with you and your peers? Do they, for the most part, seem happy? And are they clearly worse (or better) as teachers and human beings than the teachers and adults on campus who did go to the West for school? Does Mr. Dash’s knowledge of literature and beauty of expression seem limited to you because he did not go to Stanford? Do you go into Mr. Keen’s class and think: If only this guy had gone to Harvard?
If the path chosen by teachers on campus was not absolutely determining for them, why do you imagine it will be for you?
No doubt all your teachers, wherever they were educated, would like to be paid more like a Silicon Valley executive. But how many of them do you actually believe would trade the work they do just for a pay raise? What I think is that most of these people have "put themselves on the hook” of teaching.
Do you know what it means to be on the hook for something? Like a fish? Caught and being reeled in?
Your parents, for instance, feel on the hook for your well-being. For this, you can hardly blame them and you will feel the same about your kids too, should you have them. Right now you feel on the hook for things that you did not exactly choose: your econ exam or your college essay or getting up in time for class. This can be unpleasant. But unless you are gonna sleep all day, which is a lot less fun than you may think, the problem in life is that you have to be on the hook for something.
The pressure of college in America and making your parents happy pulls at you whether you like it or not. But sooner or later you may want to choose what you want to be on the hook for. This doesn’t make things easy. It just makes the “why” clearer. If you feel on the hook to write a book you will get up in the morning to do it. If you don’t you won’t. If you feel on the hook to work at Amazon because your parents expect you to, you might still do it, especially because it comes with money and status, but after a while, unless you want to be on the hook for working there, it will begin to pull you apart.
Being on the hook is never easy. But it either comes with integrity that motivates you or with the “the world tells me this should make me happy” which undoes you.
What are you willing to have pull at you every day? Will it be someone else’s line that yanks at you with an iffy promise? Like the idea that status makes you happy? Or will you let something pull on you because you want to follow it yourself? Like the way you take care of your family or the things you create?
Generally, money and position pull on us in a less satisfying and yet more powerful way on most of us than do people and purpose and service. As my freind, Scott says: “Life is who you have, not what you have.” But most of us forget this because the world (and our own lusts) tells us it is stuff we should want. Still, if you can think, “the people I will make my life” rather than “the stuff I will make my life) it might take a little pressure off you as you think about where you go to school. Whrever you go there will be people worth meeting, learning from, and making a good life out of.
On balance . . . on balance . . . if I had to guess (and not knowing any of you individually), I would say it makes sense to go to school in the USA and then return to Africa if you can. But, again, as the names of the teachers above suggest, this advice is a generality and not an absolute.
To extend just how generic I think my advice here is, let me compare to how it might have sounded in 1992.
In 1992, as a bright, young, capable person from Nigeria or Gambia or South Africa, it would have made far more “generic” sense to go to an American university than an African one than it does now. Why? Because then Africa was closer to its colonial past, America offered a better educational experience than it does now, and because the internet had not been invented.
Let me pause over each of those points.
Is Africa still in the shadow of colonialism? Of course. When you identify American hegemony as something to struggle against, you acknowledge as much. But if only because you are at ALA and now connected to its network there are more possibilities for you than there would be if you were applying to college in 1992. Unfortunately, if you have no seeds you have to go where the seeds are so you can start planting your own fields. Once those fields begin to grow, though, you can look to them for future crops. That may be a simplified way of thinking of it, but with more opportunities growing in Africa, there is less necessity to go away to reap success.
And unlike in 1992, America is now a broken country. Its political system no longer functions, it is largely run by corporate interest, and its moral center—if it ever had one—has decayed beyond recognition. Yes, one of the last great things about America is that it is home to hundreds of excellent liberal arts colleges, places that would be wonderful for anyone from anywhere to go to school, which is why I say, on balance, going to school there has value.
These campuses, however, are now focal points of the issues tearing America apart. In that context, it may be fascinating and edifying to be African in America as race, gender, class, and America’s place in the world dominate discussion on campus. But then again, it may also mean that you will end up considering American issues rather than being able to focus on your own life in the way you wish to.
But most of all, as Instagram or Tiktok may have alerted you, there is the internet. Not a perfect tool, but one that does mean you can access anyone from anywhere such that you can create networks and possibilities in a way you simply could not thirty years ago. Sure, maybe an email from someone with a Harvard degree opens more doors than one coming from someone with a degree from UTC or no degree at all, and maybe you need an American degree to make sure you can even type an email without getting a guilt trip from your parents, but if the email makes it clear you are creating opportunities for others or offering them value, where you went to school won’t matter. Look at how much those nominated for the Anzisha Prize have accomplished without a traditional resume.
The world is, as some commentators put it, flatter now. To be a writer or an influencer or sell your stuff in 1992 meant someone had to publish your book or give you a microphone or offer you access to their store. You needed to climb someone’s mountain just to be seen. Not anymore.
Again, my point is not that since every passing year means Africa moves further from colonialism, America’s trouble worsens, and the internet means you can do whatever you want. My point is that things change and your own narrative is still in front of you, made by you, not by a college decision. Maybe in thirty years, it will be clear there is no reason to go to school off the continent just as, thirty years ago, it seemed clear you should. Indeed, let’s hope. I hope too you will work towards that so that in 2050, say, someone eighteen-year-old at ALA chooses to go to Duke it is because they want the adventure of a far-off place, not because their parents think it a necessity.
In any case, if things can change so much in a few decades you should not be up at night worrying about whether you will get onto “the sure path” of an American college: that path has changed, is changing, and will continue to change.
Admittedly, my favorite environment in the world is what is sometimes called “the Ivory Tower.” That is, the liberal arts college or university that keeps the big, bad, ugly world “out there” while we in our tower devote our time to contemplating truth, beauty, knowledge, and wisdom. Thus, if it were up to me I would say go to college wherever and never leave.
But as even the name suggests, an ivory tower inherently comes with a price that can be as ugly as a slaughtered elephant, a price you hear as a knock from “the real world.” People like me, who want to sit in a bubble and talk about poetry happily deafen themselves to that knock. We don’t want to hear someone say: “Hey, you in there seem to care more about books, ideas, and enjoying the status quo than you do serving the world. What gives?” Because truth, beauty, knowledge, and wisdom don’t mean much without justice and something about being in a bubble, no matter how wonderful, does not, by itself, increase the level of justice in the world.
That knock of “what are you doing about justice” can be heard in bubbled-up places other than at the doors of American colleges, of course. Often times wealth is also such a bubble. As is ambition or envy. ALA can be a bubble too, as you know. But the uncomfortable knock of justice may be especially resonant when you think of going to America while also being told you are an African leader. You want to advance yourself and your career while “the real world” of your native land stands on your threshold.
Obviously, the theory is that you go into a bubble and come out better prepared to take on that real world, that you will be more able to ‘“succeed” at your goals, whether those are personal or communal, about working for yourself or for the world or both. And I basically think that this is true enough that I hope you will, as I have suggested, spend some time somewhere in the bubble of academic life and not worry too much about the knocks from outside so you can just devote yourself to learning.
But, again, the world is “flatter” than it was in the past and that flat-ness means the value of any particular degree is flatter too.
As a way of extending what I am saying—the flatness of now vs. 1992, hook, path, knock, and so forth—let me mention Seth Godin.
Godin is the current guru of marketing. He has one of the most popular blogs in the world. He is a millionaire tens (if not hundreds) of times over. He does exactly the work he wants to do with exactly the people he wants to work with. He lives in one of America’s most beautiful spots and has influenced hundreds of thousands of people in a positive way. He is married with two kids. I don’t know him but he even seems like a nice guy. So I am going to say that he is “a success.”
Three things about Godin matter to our subject here: First, he deliberately did poorly in college. Second, his career represents how the world can change drastically in a short time. Third, most of you have probably never heard of him.
About College: Godin knew that he was never going to work for any other person. He was never going to have a résumé. He always planned on being an entrepreneur. So he entered into the ivory tower in the true spirit of learning and curiosity and self-improvement, not of “career advancement.” He took as many classes as he could, got bad grades, and thus learned as much as possible without the pressure of “how this will look.” He put himself on the hook to learn, not to “measure up.”
Is Godin’s a path to emulate if you're going to medical school or law school or plan to be an academic? Absolutely not. Those paths require you to jump through very particular hoops he could skip. But his approach is one example of how the known path is not the only path.
Is it “riskier” to go to school in Africa than in America if everyone around you values the latter more than the former? Maybe. But it is surely riskier to get bad grades rather than good ones too. Yet Godin made it work. True, he might have gotten out of school and had a lot of trouble getting a good job. (“Dude, look at these grades, we can’t hire you.”) But he put himself on the hook of working for himself and so knew the risk he was taking. Indeed, at the start of his career, he did a lot of unglamorous work as he figured out how to get his own thing to gain traction.
Second, Godin’s career is yet another example of the fact that taking the known path may keep you from the important path opening up in the world. Briefly, when he started out, marketing meant putting ads on television and radio. You reach a lot of people and work to get 1% percent of those you reach to buy your thing. Godin approached it differently. He says you should create tribes of people around your work so that when you email them about something you want to sell, 10 or 20 percent buy your thing. He has made an extremely successful life out of doing something that was not technologically possible thirty years ago and which no one at even the best schools would have thought made sense.
Now, could Godin have used his smarts and hard work to go down a standard path towards a different kind of good life? Of course. Still, the point remains that what may seem determining to you based on what you are looking at is not as determining as you think.
This gets to the third point about Godin: Despite the fact that lots of entrepreneurs and most business students have heard of him, and despite the fact that he has his blog and has written twenty books, you have likely not heard of him. You’ve heard of Beyonce and Brad Pitt and Harvard and Stanford. And so has everyone else. So everyone makes those their North Star and just assumes you should do the same. Most ALA students want to go from Joburg to America. Cool. But in its way, that means you are all seeing the Beyonce of college and your future because of how bright the top American colleges are in your sky. Yet as Godin demonstrates, you can get all the “stuff” (money, success, influence, a good life, even fame) without anyone outside of your group being able to see the light you give off. For those who know him, Godin is a star. For everyone else, he is just a guy. Fred Swaniker is “famous” as an educator, entrepreneur, and shaper of Africa’s future. But would any of your parents have heard of him before ALA came onto your radar screen?
Turn this around for a moment too. How many beautiful, wonderful, meaningful things exist in your home or in your heart that no one has heard of? How many people, places, and ideas have value even though you have to get a little closer to them to see the light they give off?
In a way, what Mr. Swaniker did was say, “let’s put some electricity through African education and let it glow,” just as Godin did for email marketing. Yeah, I know, Mr. Swaniker went to Stanford, but if you read about him you will see that he was on the hook for African Education long before he went to California. Thus, had he not gone there, while maybe there would be no ALA, he would be doing something to give his life and our world purpose.
Remember, too, that because you are young you are much smarter than all the older people, me including, giving you advice.
We want you to be safe and you want you to be alive. We want you to look good in family portraits. We want to be the hero of your own story. We want you to show how impressive African Leadership Academy is at getting kids into top schools. We want you to lead the African continent, and the world, towards a new era of prosperity and peace. We want you to have a comfortable house, a way to take care of your family, a big T.V., sharp clothes and someone to kiss before you go to sleep. We want you to go to a place where you make great friends and jump out of bed each day ready to go to classes that feel designed exactly for the person you want to be.
And so on . . . because when people give you advice they do so with what they want in mind and so what they think you should want. That means lots of contradictory voices coming at you, voices you likely hear from inside as well.
Maybe we old people and the world shout at you out of love and concern. Maybe we tell you what to do out of our own mangled agendas. Probably both. We are human after all and so just as fallible and silly as you.
But, if you can, keep in mind that the life you live is yours to live, not anyone else’s.
So . . .
What do you want?
What do you need?
What do you demand?
Since you have to be on a hook, be on the one you choose.
Since you need to follow a path, carry your own compass and define the North Star that will guide you.
Some stops along the way may be of help to you. It may help you to go to Rochester more than the University of Nigeria. But it is not binary and if you keep yourself on the hook for what you care about you will be give yourself and someone else too light.
With a little of what I have said already, let me add a few more points meant to be more concrete and helpful.
Towards my basic thesis—that external entities granting you access and approval may matter less than what you put yourself on the hook for—remember that lots of people have become rich and famous who are super unhappy while lots of people have managed to make a good life without going to Harvard or Stanford.
If you are putting all your eggs into the basket of “top-rated” you should probably know this video.
“Whoever fails the most wins,” Godin says, and it is the key to being a successful entrepreneur, writer, creator, or influencer.)
Work hard and be easy to work with. That comes from the late-night comedian Conan O'Brien and I've never heard a better path for actual success.
Keep in mind that America is just a place, with people. Your job, and theirs, is to put one or two people ahead of yourself, do something cool, and leave the world slightly better than you found it. That may require taking on American hegemony directly. It may mean swerving around it altogether. Likely it will mean something between.
Nothing solves everything. Getting your health clinic started or playing guitar as your career or working at McKinsey will all include stress and tears. That's good. The alternative is to be in bed all day, which is fine for a morning or two, but not for a life. What you want to take note of is if you're long, hard, tiring day gives you energy by the end or if it just wears you out. Do you feel your soul expanding or getting twisted in knots? Are your tears because you cannot satisfy someone pulling you with their hook or is it because you just wish you could follow the one you have put yourself on more effectively?
Mary Oliver says this:
You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees,
for a hundred miles, through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal
love what it loves.
Note that she does not say: Don’t be good. She says you do not have to be good. Good as the world, your parents, or ALA defines it may be wonderful. But if it is not the hook you want to be on or keeps you from thriving and helping others, well then, you do not have to be good.
And if I can offer one truth I think accurate about all the people I have met and known, rich or poor, black or white, young or old, it is that if you let yourself be the kitten of who you are, the puppy of who you want to be, things will be O.K.
Let the soft animal of your body love what it loves and no test, school, grade, or even broken heart will matter in the long run. And certainly where you go to college will be fine too.
Good luck and please feel free to call on me if I can clarify anything here.
Ted