(UNDATED) Now, on the eve of 12th grade, comes my son’s “year of the alphabet.”

First the SATs, then the ACT, and then paperwork focused on IU, UNC, UC, OC, BC and other schools designated as R, T or L (reach, target or likely), all followed by a decision whether to go EA (early action).

We are all trying not to stress. Good luck to us.

Some of my son’s classmates know this college application process is the tangible payoff for their over-involved parents. A thick envelope from an elite school will be parents’ prize for choosing the right preschool, sports league, music lessons, summer camps and summer internships — not to mention playing Mozart during pregnancy and quizzing their child on vocabulary while driving to school.

Some parents have invested thousands of dollars in test-prep tutoring. If the first scores aren’t adequate, they will direct their child to take the test again. And again.

Parents will hover over forms and deadlines. Some take a leave from their jobs to manage their child’s college application process. Some will even write their child’s admission essay.

Students are wound tight. Not because they see their academic and intellectual futures coming into focus, but because they worry about failing their parents. A 600 math score on the SAT, when only a 700 will do, can feel like a busted childhood.

How did it get so crazy? How did college come to be about parents and their bragging rights, egos, feelings of accomplishment? I suppose it’s the logical extension of the “soccer mom” who shrieked at her 8-year-old to “score one for Mom!” Or the dad who made good grades a condition for receiving his love. But it’s still nutty.

Children aren’t a project for which parents get a grade. College admission has nothing to do with the parents’ accomplishment, and not much to do with a young person’s progress through life. As our son’s college counselor wisely told him, you can learn, or mess up, at any college. Every college has both good teachers and slugs, interesting classmates and party animals, people who relish ideas and people who are already counting the bucks.

Unless you’re totally shallow, you don’t pick a partner by where he or she went to college. While employers give some minor attention to pedigree, what counts is capability and performance. In the races that matter — feeling good about yourself as a person, being a responsible citizen, being a lover of souls and a decent neighbor, making a difference with your life — college brand counts for little.

Sure, we’d like our son to attend a good college, but for reasons of intellectual challenge and academic excellence, not because it scores one for us as parents or guarantees a successful life for him. In the end, it’s his deal. Whether college years are a time of personal and intellectual growth or wasted opportunities will be up to him.

I see college as an adventure, not a scorecard on his childhood or our parenthood. I hope our son will grow his mind, broaden his interests, read widely and deeply, try and fail and try again, and be challenged at every turn, to prepare him for life.

None of that depends on winning the “year of the alphabet.” As with everything in life, it will be worked out one day at a time, according to who he is as a person. Character trumps credentials every time.

(Tom Ehrich is a writer, church consultant and Episcopal priest based in New York. He is the author of “Just Wondering, Jesus,” and the founder of the Church Wellness Project, http://www.churchwellness.com. His Web site is http://www.morningwalkmedia.com.)