Colleges scour China for top students
A star search that may affect US applicants
By Tracy Jan, The Boston Globe | November 9, 2008
BEIJING - Don't be fooled by the teenager's slender frame and wire-rimmed
glasses. His name is Tiger - and he's an American high school student's worst
nightmare.
The 16-year-old junior, as adept at proving geometry theorems as he is at
defending a soccer shot, has set his sights on Harvard University. And
Harvard, on him.
Just last month, Tiger and dozens of China's brightest students gathered
in a five-star hotel blocks from Tiananmen Square for the final round of a
math contest that planted the Crimson flag firmly in the world's most
populous nation. They competed under the watchful gaze of William
Fitzsimmons, Harvard's admissions dean, who has handpicked undergraduates for
three decades.
Students such as Tiger, or Li Taibo in Chinese, represent the future face
of elite American colleges, their greatest hope as they vie to maintain
international dominance. It's especially true for Harvard, as it tries to
elevate the profile of its math and sciences to be on par with its legendary
humanities program.
Eager to cultivate generations of students in this new frontier,
admissions officers from premier American universities are scouring China to
recruit top high school students who may dismiss such colleges as out of
reach and unaffordable. In last month's campaign during the contest, Harvard,
Brown, and Stanford representatives touted liberal arts education, research
opportunities, and American dorm life to students and their parents - even
promising full scholarships. {sure why not have the US paying to educate Chinese students}
"There are no quotas, no limits on the number of Chinese students we
might take," Fitzsimmons told a standing-room-only crowd of more than
300 students during a visit to Beijing No. 4 High School. "We know there
are very good students from China not applying now. I hope to get them into the
pool to compete."
That message is disconcerting for American students toiling to land a
coveted spot in Harvard's 1,660-student freshman class - and controversial
among some educators. But Fitzsimmons and others say they had better get used
to the idea. Applications from China have exploded in recent years as the
Communist country opens up to the world, and they're only going to increase.
Even fifth-graders in Wellesley, Newton, and Brookline, who as adults will
face international competition for jobs, should begin beefing up their
academic résumés if they want a shot at an Ivy League education, Fitzsimmons
said.
"We're trying to send a message to young people, as young as primary
school, to make the most of their studies," he said, "because
they'll be competing with students around the world later on."
The first Shing-Tung Yau High School Mathematics Awards, named for the
Harvard math professor who organized it, drew more than 900 students from all
corners of the country. The 40 finalists who assembled for three days in
Beijing had spent the past six months preparing to shine - not only for the
judges, which included three Harvard professors, but also for the admissions
deans they would meet.
"This is a historic event," Fitzsimmons said. "We're trying
to get out the word that Harvard is world class in math, science, and
engineering, not just in the humanities."
The stakes were clear for the Chinese students and their families at the
contest. Nervous parents and teachers, barred from the hotel conference room
where each team presented their projects, knelt outside, snapping photos of
contestants and judges through the glass doors.
Down the carpeted hallway that reeked of cigarettes, students in school
uniforms adjusted their ties and huddled among teammates, practicing their
presentations in hushed murmurs.
"It might change my life, my whole life, I think," said Tiger,
ranked in the top 10 of his 750-student class.
Raised on an army base on the outskirts of China's capital, Tiger lives at
school in a spartan third-floor dorm room with five other boys. He has never
set foot in the United States. But he visits Harvard often - on the Web,
imagining himself crossing the historic brick campus to class or, perhaps, to
a party.
"Harvard is so beautiful compared to the campuses of Chinese
universities," said Tiger, who crams for the verbal portion of the SAT
from his lower bunk bed. "I want to go because it is said that schools
in the United States inspire you to think, instead of just teaching you what
to do."
The competition served as a vivid reminder of how the global economy is
hitting college admissions, much like it's hitting US corporations. Many US
universities have begun recruiting in China in recent years, but those
efforts have tended to focus on high school visits or university fairs, and
none have generated the slew of Chinese media attention that Harvard garnered
last month.
And while universities are seeking applicants throughout the world,
China's rising influence and the academic devotion of students there make it
especially appealing.
Ushered around Beijing from luncheons to evening meetings during his five
days here, Fitzsimmons played the role of a diplomat.
In speeches to students and dignitaries, he predicted that Harvard's
outreach to Chinese students will foster improved US-China relations that
will ultimately benefit the world. Harvard-educated Chinese, he reasoned,
will probably return to the fast-growing country to help shape its
development as new neighborhoods of high-rise apartments, megamalls, and whole
financial centers spring up on what was once farmland.
The number of Chinese students applying to Harvard has swelled from only
10 two decades ago to nearly 500 last school year. Fewer than 8 percent of
all applicants are admitted. Thirty-five Chinese undergraduates are currently
enrolled.
Applicants from China will increase even more if the Chinese government
allows students on the mainland to take the SAT without having to jet off to
Hong Kong or Taiwan - a mission Fitzsimmons pursued during private talks with
high-ranking party officials.
Professor Yau, chairman of Harvard's math department who conceived of last
month's competition, has returned to his homeland to not only spur the
improvement of math education in China through the contest, which rewards students
for creativity and collaboration, but also to help funnel a generation of
Chinese high school students into America's premiere colleges. He even vowed
to pay personally for the travels of needy students to conquer the SAT.
"I want to help the very poorest students in China make their dreams
come true," said Yau, who won the prestigious Fields Medal and is
considered one of the world's greatest mathematicians.
But that's a difficult prospect for some of his colleagues in Cambridge to
swallow. While he supports international admissions, Harry Lewis, a computer
science professor, worries that Harvard is making it harder for American
students to get in.
"There's a real tension here," said Lewis, former dean of
Harvard College who sits on the admissions committee. "We get tax
exemptions not so we can help build the economy of China, but so we can help
contribute to the economy of the United States."
That being said, Lewis acknowledged that "we're not alarmed enough in
this country about the lack of interest and motivation we're giving to math
education here."
During the contest, in impeccable English, Tiger explained to the judges
his team's research into maximizing the amount of air that flows into a room
by adjusting the angles of the windows.
But he is no math geek. Tiger plays badminton and soccer, heads the Model
United Nations team at one of China's best public high schools, belongs to
its literary club. And in the midst of the math contest, he was elected
president of his 4,000-student school.
Tiger's competitors were just as well rounded, even though extracurricular
activities do not help them get into Chinese colleges, which weigh only
scores on a two-day national exam.
Wang Shun Zhi, whose team devised an algorithm to ease traffic on
Beijing's famously congested streets, leads his school's debate team and
founded the humanism club, in addition to competing on the math and physics
teams. Qin Yipeng, who invented a mathematical model for snow sweeping, was
able to read more than 300 Chinese characters by age 3 and has won prizes in
math, physics, chemistry, and English.
And Li Zhoujia, who equalized water distribution in sprinkler systems to
prevent students from getting soaked through their open classroom window, is
a lead spiker on her school's volleyball team, an accomplished singer and
actress, and editor of the student newspaper.
All envisioned a future at an elite US university. The teenagers passed
out résumés and personal biographies at a reception with the admissions
deans, whom students addressed as "your excellences" and
"preeminent deans."
"Just have fun reading it," Li urged Sarah Clark Donahue,
Harvard's director of financial aid, as she handed over her two-page dossier.
In the end, Tiger's name was not called during the awards ceremony.
"It's OK. It's OK," he said softly in the surreal setting, a
drafty, 600-year-old ancestral temple just outside the walls of the Forbidden
City. Women in traditional dresses ushered dignitaries and academics down the
red carpet as a chorus of ancient bells tolled.
"I just want to know how I can improve," he said. "I expect
there will be a time when my name will finally be called."
The next morning, a Saturday, Tiger showed up at his school's weekly math
club and spent three hours learning about number theory - "just for
fun," he said.