Why I rejected Yale University admission for a small Bible college instead

This past year, I finally threw away a glossy Yale admissions booklet that had been collecting dust on my bookshelf for four years. I didn’t even realize, until recently, why I had placed it there in the first place — it was a kind of subconscious shrine, a symbol of the future I thought I was destined for. Yale, after all, was everything a high school student could dream of: world-class professors, once-in-a-lifetime opportunities and gothic architecture that seemed to promise wisdom within its very stones. 

When the letters started coming, it felt surreal. But to the shock of many of my friends, I turned Yale down. I chose a small Bible college instead. 

At first, I wrestled with the decision. Like many high-achievers, I had grown up believing that the Ivy League represented the pinnacle of education, the proof that you were among the “best of the best.” To toss that aside seemed nothing but reckless. But as I waited and listened to the counsel of my parents, I began reading more deeply about Yale and its cultural drift. Faculty who expressed dissenting opinions denied tenure. Guest speakers with unpopular views disinvited. A once-proud institution of intellectual diversity increasingly resembling a gated community of ideological conformity. 

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That decision wasn’t about fear, or self-doubt, or even finances. It was about conviction. Somewhere along the way, Yale — and institutions like it — ceased to represent the kind of education I longed for. What once stood for intellectual rigor and freedom has been replaced by fragility and indoctrination. The university that shaped presidents and poets now seems more intent on shaping activists who must be shielded from uncomfortable truths. 

So, what did I choose in turning down Yale? I chose a different kind of challenge. At my Bible college, the sharpening comes not from trading barbs in a lecture hall but from wrestling with eternal questions: What does it mean to be holy? How does one imitate Christ in a hostile world? Wrestling with Augustine or Aquinas is harder than parroting the latest social theory. Learning to forgive a classmate in a clear Christian community is more demanding than winning a dorm-room debate. The world sees this as “safe,” but I see it as sacred.  

And, surprisingly, the diversity of thought within the small college sphere is staggering. I’ve had the honor of dialoguing with people who believe in an incredibly traditional view of the world and others who wish to challenge that notion entirely. One of my professors frequently encouraged deconstruction if it meant that an accurate, genuine faith was reconstructed from its ashes. 

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What doors did I close? I closed the doors of instant credibility, the endless networking opportunities, the powerful name that comes stamped on a résumé. I closed the door to an easy acceptance in elite circles that still believe the Ivy League is the gatekeeper of American success. 

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But I also opened doors. I opened the door to a formation of the soul, not just the résumé. I opened the door to mentors who care more about my character than my connections. I opened the door to a life where truth is not measured by applause but by faithfulness. And I opened the door to the freedom to think, speak, and believe without fear of ideological policing. I’ve attended several diverse conservative conferences that treat their members — left or right — as intelligent, free-thinking individuals with the ability to argue, reason and defend. 

I refused to trade conviction for prestige, vision for prosperity. So, yes, I threw away Yale’s booklet. And with it, I threw away the illusion that success must be dressed in ivy. The education I’ve chosen may not come with marble halls or gilded plaques, but it comes with something better: truth, conviction and the courage to live it out. 

That, to me, is worth more than Yale.