It’s admissions time again — this month admissions staff at the nation’s elite institutions are cooped up for days, scrutinizing hundreds of college applications. It’s also legacy time again….

Yale has the Bushes, Basses and Whitneys. Harvard has the Astors, Roosevelts and Kennedys. Throughout the history of American higher education, the nation’s most prestigious colleges and universities have employed legacy policies that preference the children of privileged alumni. In fact, during the early 1900s, prominent graduates of the colonial colleges, fearing that their sons would be displaced in admissions processes, forced the hand of college administrators in myriad ways, such as threatening to withhold donations and using their connections with university higher ups to pull strings. Conversely, according to Dr. Marcia Synnott, the “demand of upwardly mobile sons of Jewish and Catholic immigrants” for admission to the nation’s elite institutions initiated “an institutional crisis, involving not only existing limitations of classroom space and campus housing, but also questions of educational purpose — of whom to educate and why.”

In the 1960s, as pressure toward racial integration intensified, acceptance rates rapidly increased for children of alumni — in some cases, to as much as three times higher than that of the past (Duffy & Goldberg, 1998). Given resistance on the part of historically White institutions to enrolling Black students during the civil rights era, legacy policies may have furnished an excuse to reject racial minorities without resorting to the quotas that had been used to exclude Jews and Catholics earlier in the century (Gasman, 2007; Thelin, 2004). As a result, Synnott writes, colleges became “citadels of Anglo-Saxon culture” and developed extensive legacy policies that continue to be used today. The primary consequence, however, lies in the exclusion of groups whose parents did not attend elite institutions of higher education.