Which School Did you go to?
Ah, Sri Lanka—the land of breathtaking beaches, delicious tea, and, of course, the all-important question when meeting someone new: "Which school did you go to?" Because, obviously, that’s the only thing that truly defines a person.
This question isn't just small talk. No, no. It’s an instant social MRI scan. Your school isn’t just where you spent your childhood avoiding homework—it’s your DNA, your caste marker, and your ticket (or barrier) to the upper echelons of society.
But here’s the real kicker: none of this was ever in your control.
Historically, Sri Lanka’s major schools were as exclusive as a VIP lounge in a Colombo nightclub—if your parents didn’t have the right credentials, you weren’t getting in. So, when you answer the infamous school question, you’re instantly assessed, categorized, and possibly judged on where you stand in the social hierarchy.
But wait—there’s more! Beneath this first layer of school obsession is another, juicier layer. Your alma mater determines who considers you “their kind”—who will do business with you, befriend you, and help you climb the social ladder. If your school matches theirs, congratulations! You’re now “mates.” If not? Well… good luck.
And don’t even get me started on the power of the school tie. If you were lucky enough to attend one of the “right” schools, simply wearing the tie is like flashing a VIP pass—it opens doors to job opportunities, business deals, and elite social circles. No wonder those who didn’t get this golden ticket tend to, shall we say, resent the system.
Your entire future—your career, your social standing, your business prospects—was decided by a choice your parents made when you were about five years old. Your ability, intelligence, and potential? Irrelevant. What matters is whether your parents were rich enough, connected enough, or lucky enough to send you to one of the “right” schools.
But here’s the plot twist: this entire system is a hand-me-down from our British colonial rulers. The Brits may have left, but their snobbery stayed—and, like diligent students, we mastered it. Ironically, the British have moved on from this nonsense. Over there, favoring people based on school ties is seen as archaic, outdated, and, frankly, a bit embarrassing. Yet here we are, clinging to it like a long-lost relic, like immigrants in a foreign land desperately holding onto their old ways.
However, Sri Lanka is finally catching up. The sacred “old school tie” tradition is starting to crack. Cricket, once dominated by Colombo’s elite schools, is now played at the highest levels by kids from all walks of life. Politics? For the first time in history, we’re seeing leaders who didn’t emerge from the same prestigious schools.
The private sector has also thrown a Googly. A new breed of professionals—many educated abroad, and so-called “overseas schools” are now taking over top corporate positions that were once monopolized by Colombo’s “big school” alumni. They were raised with a different education system, a different work ethic, and—most importantly—a lack of interest in outdated schoolyard loyalties.
And what about universities? Ah, old habits die hard. Even in higher education, students from elite schools still tend to form their own exclusive circles, sometimes making life harder for those outside their club. Back in the 1970s, Sri Lanka’s medical schools were packed with students from these prestigious institutions, forming tight-knit groups that left outsiders feeling like… well, outsiders. Resentment? Naturally. Tribalism is hardwired into us, after all.
So, why do Sri Lankans always ask, “What school did you go to?” the moment they meet someone? Because it’s more than a question—it’s a social sorting mechanism, a handshake, and a status check all rolled into one.
And the biggest irony? It has nothing to do with individual ability, intelligence, or merit. Your fate was sealed the moment your parents filled out your school application.
Of course, this is just my view. Maybe you think differently. Maybe you’re one of the lucky ones who never had to answer this question with dread. Either way, let’s talk. Just be ready to tell me where you studied. 😉
comments to pdjprem@gmail.com
Jayantha Premachandra
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