Everything is going crazy.
Or so I think, while sitting in the audience at this year’s Board of Trustees Retreat, held just up the mountain from Middlebury at our Bread Loaf campus in Ripton, Vermont. The Board is meeting this fall to discuss the viability of the traditional liberal arts model as we move into the next twenty or thirty years. In the time leading up to last year’s financial collapse, the world of higher education saw unprecedented spending on the part of colleges and universities as increased competition for students and rankings led to a veritable arms race for academic domination. Unfortunately for them (and, by extension me – and us), much of this expansion was financed by heavy borrowing and overspending on endowments, so when the rug was pulled out from under us by the global economic meltdown, institutions were left scrambling to bring costs back in line with their budgets. Middlebury has been affected by the meltdown in just as many ways as any other college, but from the crisis we’ve taken the opportunity to completely reconsider undergraduate education and how it is provided. Which brings me back to where everything was going crazy.
I was sitting in the Little Theatre on the Bread Loaf campus as various constituencies from the college made presentations about how to reframe the education we provide and ensure that Middlebury can remain a leader in higher education well into the future. I had been invited by Dean of Students Gus Jordan as one of four student representatives at the meeting, an opportunity to meet the trustees, help shape the direction of the school, and, being a senior, to drop subtle hints to the trustees about my job prospects next year. So, aside from trying to look as employable as possible, I was there on behalf of the student body to make sure that our voices were heard, too. I sat with two of the my student colleagues – we had placed ourselves as close as possible to the roaring fire in the fireplace, as, it being the Bread Loaf campus and thus normally used for summer programs, the theatre did not come with the benefit of insulation, and it happened to be an unseasonably cold day in October. The mountains surrounding campus were dusted in white, a spectacular sight, albeit one better enjoyed from the confines of a warm room than a freezing barn filled with most of the campus’ movers and shakers (shaking, in this case, mostly from the chill).
Temperature aside, the conversation was lively. While students are hardly insulated from the realities of the outside world – and particularly how those realities influence our experience here – the retreat still offered the chance to see beyond the message put out by the administration and to understand exactly how Middlebury got to where it is and how it might continue into the future. I’ll spare my readers any discussion of the boring interworkings of the school budget or its specific challenges (plus, I’m pretty sure that I was sworn to secrecy and would be removed in the dead of night if I spilled the beans), but what I did find particularly interesting is the thought of how one might structure an undergraduate education if given a clean slate.
As the Board considered proposals that ranged from simple changes to complete evolutions in the college process, I found myself wondering how it is that I might have chosen to structure my education, if given the choice. I think we all take for granted that college is a four year process, and one that is more or less the same wherever you go. It’s easy to get caught up in that system, but for everyone – and especially prospective students that might feel that they’ve been running on the same educational treadmill their whole lives – it’s important to keep in mind the purpose of an education. Although my three and a half (and counting…) years here have been some of the best of my life, I did find myself considering whether I might have gotten more from a different program of study. How would my experience have changed if I had gone abroad earlier? If I had done more work outside the classroom? If college wasn’t four years at all, but three, or five? The possibilities were endless.
Which is part of why considering what college might be – what Middlebury might be – was so provocative. As a senior, I sometimes feel this curmudgeonly urge to make sure that things stay the same, to preserve Middlebury as I knew it as a freshman and as I know it now. But I do need to keep in mind that things change, and always have, and that perhaps Middlebury might be able to accomplish more by changing from what I have come to expect. So as I listened to each new proposal – all seemingly crazier than the last – I tried to maintain some sense of objectivity and be more focused on practicality and less on nostalgia.
In the end, few real policy changes emerged from the retreat – after all, it was provided more as a provocative thought experiment than anything (and provocative it was), and everyone realizes that institutional changes happen slowly, and only after careful consideration. A day of debate in the frigid confines of the Bread Loaf campus hardly qualifies as such, although it is a start. Any major changes will take time, but it is important to keep the future in mind.
As the day wound down over dinner and drinks in the (thankfully) heated Bread Loaf Inn, I had the chance to talk to many more of the trustees individually and express opinions outside of the planned program of events. Getting to know the trustees and administrators of this school has been one of my greatest privileges this past year, and our conversations reveal them to be far more clued in to the students’ concerns than many might imagine. So while I was at first taken aback by what seemed radical changes in how one looks at college, I realized that if there is anything I took from the day with the trustees – the inside knowledge of the school, the influence over its future course, but sadly no job offers – it is this: they are listening.