I grew up in the suburbs of a big city, a major metropolitan — part of a megalopolis, in fact, if you’re a somewhat corny person into such terms of art, as I very much am. But most of my adult life has been spent in the rural west, and a long stretch in Alaska, in towns ranging from around 1,000 people on a busy day to a comparatively bustling 45,000. My current home here on the rolling hills of the Palouse is shared by somewhere just under 25,000 other souls, and it has one key, all-encompassing difference than any other rural place I’ve lived: It’s a college town.
College towns are different. Especially in rural areas, they stand out from other places. The downtown of my little city is lively and alluring – none of the boarded-up doors and decaying facades you’ll find in a few of the towns in which I’ve lived. We have more restaurants than I can count, and bike trails galore. Unemployment is low. The parks are well-maintained, the potholes get fixed. More importantly, there are notable employers outside the university – an economic modeling company, an advanced manufacturing company, among others – that clearly benefit from the close proximity and interplay with higher education.
A recent article in The Atlantic, “Could Small-Town Harvards Revive Rural Economies?”, puts it finger (somewhat bluntly) on this phenomenon. In a country where megalopolises in a few key areas dominate, and where the vast middle is struggling to stay vibrant, rural towns with higher education institutions are sometimes thriving, often hanging in there, and nearly always at least have opportunities.
It’s worth reading. I gravitated toward a key couple points. As the article notes, one doesn’t just start college campuses from scratch – a couple hundred years into the development of higher education in this country, the market is pretty well full. Now, what those campuses look like, and how they’re able to respond to and drive the imperatives of their communities, that’s an exciting challenge in our current day.
There’s a lot in this conversation that I find a little … silly. The title’s tantalizing promise of “small-town Harvards” seems emblematic of a lot of our national media’s inability to reconcile their view of higher education’s value and importance to the actual mission, values and outcomes offered by the hundreds and thousands of useful institutions that aren’t residents of the Ivy League. We don’t need “small-town Harvards,” or regional MITs, at least if we’re talking about highly selective, highly affordable ivory towers. We do need small-town Harvards if we’re talking about accessible, affordable institutions that promote education, research with on-the-ground applications, and economic development for the region.
Great news – in many cases, we already have them. But I won’t get to soliloquizing on the virtues our public research universities here. It’s clear that higher education institutions, especially four-year institutions, have to prioritize economic development. Be nimble enough to seize on an emerging industry important to the area – my institution is making headway in computer science and cybersecurity, for example, which are economically important in the region. Many institutions are already positioned to do so – research universities, for example – and those that aren’t probably have areas of opportunity. So I fundamentally agree with article’s conclusion: “Rejuvenating rural economies is difficult, but there might not be a need to create whole new universities in a saturated market. One solution is already there: launching new programs at existing colleges and universities based on where jobs will be.”
I also think higher education institutions generally have to do a better job of promoting their impact on quality of life, economic development and access to opportunities for those who want and need them. Public confidence in higher education is dimming, abetted by an array of factors, many of them coming from a place of bad faith (I’ll leave it at that). A dynamic institution that proactively connects with the community and partners to meet needs and drive new growth can be a useful ambassador for higher education writ large. I’d hope that helps turn the tide, however incrementally.
In the meantime, the weekends will find me on the bike trails.