This year was my 11th and final year at Parker, and over those years I have learned quite a bit about this institution. My advice to those who are considering ‘joining the Parker community’ is this—do not send your kids to Parker.
When I reflect on my time at Parker, the best moments were not because of the school itself but because of the teachers here. I must say that some of the faculty and staff at this institution are single handedly responsible for shaping who I am as a person. I owe them a great deal and explicitly believe that their wondrousness is in spite of Parker and not because of it. It is the faculty and staff that have kept me here at Parker and the only reason I fight and express my faults is the school. My faults with the school lie in its foundations, its administration, and the culture it breeds.
Among Parker’s selling points is its mission statement. The mission declares that “Francis W. Parker School educates students to think and act with empathy, courage and clarity as responsible citizens and leaders in a diverse democratic society and global community.” However, my impression as a student here is far simpler: the mission is admission. Many of Parker’s administrative choices, particularly in the Upper School, prioritize the college prospects of graduating students first. Time and time again the school chooses to bolster the paper profile of the student body over making the choice that ensures a richer, discursive, academic experience. The AP policy has helped make this plain. Ms. Zeller’s official policy on AP testing states “many highly selective colleges and universities do not accept credit for coursework completed before matriculation.” However, many Parker students do attend schools that utilize AP credit. This policy, however, makes total sense for a school that prioritizes ensuring admission to ‘highly selective and selective colleges’ over ensuring students are set up for an academic future that allows them to spend less on their education or take it to higher heights. This is not the most egregious example of the school prioritizing admissions over education, but it stands out because it was one of the only ones I’ve seen ignite the student body. It is a window into the school’s priorities.
Take, for example, the recent expansion effort and the subsequent campaign for Ward approval. As part of this petition, Parker hosted an alderman-run community meeting on the project. As a part of student government time, Dan Frank and Cory Zeller took the stage and requested that students appear at the Ward meeting to voice their support for the project. This is a technique in politics called Astroturfing in which you make an idea or movement appear more grassroots than it is. This does not usher in a “diverse democratic society.” In fact, it does the opposite. It makes the community voice more difficult to express.
As part of the expansion, the school announced the removal of sixth grade as an entry year. If the mission of this expansion is truly “access,” this change is ridiculous. Now for most people to gain access to Parker resources, you must either join in high school or pay for 14 years of Parker. At Parker’s current rate, assuming a 3% inflation rate and no increases in tuition of 14 years, it costs $822,014 to send a kid to Parker for 14 years. Starting in middle school, however, incurs $371,196 in tuition. That means if a family is financially able to pay for middle school and high school, they would need at least 45% financial aid to attend Parker. This figure does not include any raises in tuition price, the inflationary effect of high school and middle school being chronologically later than elementary school. If this expansion aims to increase access to Parker, this does the opposite. When I asked about this at student government, Dr. Frank told me they planned to increase financial aid to offset this. However, Parker’s website claims the expansion will grant 55-65 new students financial aid in addition to the 185 that already do. That 185 represents 20% of the student body, so clearly this adjustment does not fully account for the major change in the financial commitment to Parker. This is among the many shiny promises that Parker makes that fail the moment they are put up to any scrutiny. The expansion is representative of Parker’s use of promise and a commitment to financial aid that is actually an excuse to open more spots to the wealthiest among our community and make Parker more difficult to access otherwise.
This is not an isolated incident. Events like the Parker Party or Civic lab also stand out as a way that Parker uses financial assistance and DEIB to launder its reputation and the reputation of its wealthiest customers. As a previous Weekly Editorial put it: “‘DEI’ is now part of the product being sold to legacy and connected Chicago families.” Come here and we’ll give you that progressive sheen to enhance your glamorous life, as if “equity” and “democracy” were other brand names.
On top of how the school conducts itself on an administrative level, the school fosters a community that doesn’t “act with empathy, courage [or] clarity.” As our new SG president puts it, there is a “wicked culture” at Parker. One I believe has been allowed to grow and fester by the administration. In my 11 years in the Parker community I have seen instances of sexual harassment, racism, misogyny, and more go under-adressed by the administration. The responses that do exist, much of the time, exist to protect the school as an institution and business and not its students or community members.
I have chosen a small sample of the stories I have gained at this school and there is a longer list that I did not write for the sake of brevity and repetitiveness. It has been my experience that Parker’s administration and the institution it supports fails, time and time again, to deliver the promises that brought many here in the first place. Though I believe individuals do carry the lofty torch set forward by the mission, I believe the school as a location, business, and institution does not.
When you walk into the halls of Parker you are promised a progressive education that supports its community and you walk out jaded and painfully aware of what this institution actually serves to do—ensuring the future of the wealthiest in our city. With this in mind I amend my declaration—if you truly care about academic engagement, community engagement, and an honest administration, don’t send your kids to Parker.
