This Orange County man hadn’t heard of Stanford until he was nearly a high school senior, now he’s heading toward his MBA there
Bribing, cheating, massive donations and expensive tutoring are only a few ways to get into college. For young people such as Jorge Cueto, there are far cheaper ways.
Like earning a full-ride scholarship. Yes, earning.
You see, Cueto couldn’t have cheated his way into Stanford University if he wanted to.
First of all, his parents raised their son with values, such as the importance of giving back, helping community and that big one that clearly terrifies some big-money celebrities — hard work.
Second, Cueto had never heard of Stanford until he was practically a senior in high school.
That’s right, this kid who bounced around various apartments in north Orange County while his parents struggled to put food on the table and pay rent only learned about one of this nation’s most prestigious universities by chance.
After killing his PSAT, postcards from various schools started showing up in the mail. One was relatively close by in a place called Palo Alto — and best of all, it had palm trees.
“It didn’t look like a school,” Cueto recalls thinking as he sorted through the mail, just beginning the labyrinth of college applications. “It looked like a resort.”
Yet the more Cueto learned about Stanford, the more he figured he would never be able to go. Dad worked double-shift odd jobs and mom cared for other people’s babies just to keep up with bills.
For a kid like Cueto, Stanford might as well have charged an admittance fee of $500,000 — the bribe actress Lori Loughlin allegedly paid to ensure her two daughters got into USC.
Heck, it wasn’t until Cueto, now 25 years old, won a contest for a computer the summer before his senior year that his family saw its first laptop.
But one day a miracle of sorts arrived and Cueto’s life changed forever.
Growing up poor
To contemplate the differences between a family such as the Cuetos and, say, the families of the parents suspected in the FBI’s “Varsity Blues” scam, is an exercise in futility.
The differences reach so deep, they touch the soul.
Where these multi-millionaires clearly have more money than they know how to properly handle, the Cuetos have none.
But when it comes to values, the Cuetos are rich.
Dad (out of privacy concerns, the parents asked their names be omitted) had to leave high school early to help his own parents. Mom graduated high school and then got a license for a home childcare business.
The couple married in their mid-30s, and eventually they were blessed with baby Jorge.
As the years went by, apartments were always cramped. But tight space had its benefits.
Growing up, Cueto listened to his parents figure out how to stretch every dollar, yet still manage to help others and donate clothes to charity.
“I was aware of hard work and everything they did for me,” Cueto explains. Instead of being resentful like some kids, he appreciated his parents’ efforts and found strength in it.
“From a young age, I had the opportunity,” Cueto offers, “to truly respect my parents and I had the motivation to do well in school.”
Unable to afford a computer, Cueto memorized the hours of every local library. He did his homework and studied wherever and whenever computers were available.
Sure, it meant he had to constantly carry around computer discs. But so what?
The more computers he mastered, the closer he figured he was to his dream of working in the tech industry.
Cueto even managed an intra-district transfer and started attending Villa Park High School because he’d heard about its reputation for excellence.
Yet in his most difficult moments, he wondered why he worked so hard. He could never afford a school like Stanford.
Lack of resources
For many, college is almost an afterthought. You go where your parents went, what’s close, or to a school that favors a passion — like skiing.
For others — such as the rich parents who allegedly bribed elite schools — there is only one acceptable destination.
Then there are the students such as Cueto and other first-generation, low-income college students, who now call themselves “FLIs.” For them, it can seem like there is no chance of college.
Cueto describes that mix of poverty and hope: “On the day I submitted my application to Stanford I knew that even if I was accepted my family and I could not afford the cost.
“For an entire week, I waited with a pit in my stomach for my financial aid package to arrive,” he shares. “When it came, I called my mom and dad to the kitchen because I wanted them by my side when I opened it.
“It’s a cliche, but true: The next steps in the course of my life depended on what was inside that envelope.
“With a deep breath and one more glance for reassurance from both of my parents, I pulled out the stack of papers. My hands quivered and my heart raced and then I saw it, the words I had been dreaming of: Zero parent contribution. Zero student contribution.
“Tears welled up in my eyes. I dropped the papers and felt the embrace of my mother on one side and my father on the other. Joy and relief overcame us and poured out of us as we danced in a circle and sobbed.
“Stanford not only gave me hope, it gave me the incredible gift to be able to dream. In that moment, life for my family completely changed.”
Sadly, families caught up in the FBI raid will never share those feelings — and they will never know how far their child could have gone on their own.
Mentoring others
Today, Cueto has a Stanford bachelor’s degree in technology, is part-way through a Stanford MBA, has a Google internship in artificial intelligence behind him and a wide-open future ahead.
“It’s a stark contrast,” he tells me, “from being a low-income student and having to figure out college admission without anyone in your family knowing how to help — and then seeing how people can game the system.
“When college counselors accept bribes, it completely destroys opportunities for FLI students and in some ways it devalues what a Stanford education stands for.”
But instead of whining like a helicopter parent looking for a way to game admissions, Cueto and other students with similar backgrounds are leading a FLI movement that debunks the American myth of going it alone.
Rather than trying to Photoshop faces, these FLI students mentor teens who also are first-generation, low income.
“A lot of students are scared of the application process,” Cueto points out, “even though they have the credentials and grades.”
But there is one student that Cueto simply admires — his father.
After his son was admitted to Stanford, Dad decided it was time to earn his high school diploma. He finished and is now following in his son’s footsteps by taking community college classes in — what else? — technology software.
Sure, learning is rarely easy. But that doesn’t matter in the Cueto family.
What matters is honest work.