From Rachel Toor
I would like to believe that most of us in academe would agree that equity and excellence are inseparable. Some of us still live in states where we can say that.
There are few institutions that are truly able to fulfill the promise we all want to believe in. When leaders tell me their institutions are both accessible and affordable, I smile and nod and ask about retention and graduation rates.
Look, I know why students at a public regional university like mine don’t make it through in four or six years—or ever. Because most of them are not like M, who lost her mother in 10th grade (just before enrolling in the early-college program Running Start), worked a job on campus and took the capstone course her junior year for no credit just because she was interested. M graduated this month as one of the top students in the department while still working on campus and also doing heavy lifting (literally) 30 hours a week at an Amazon warehouse. Or they’re like Tay, another top student, who was a full-time manager at Ulta. Or like O, who came back to college because working in restaurants for a decade took a toll on their body and they wanted to get a job in publishing.
These young people don’t sleep, and they are driven. But equally invested in going to college are those who are caring for their children, siblings, and/or aging parents. One of my students this spring talked about her abusive, narcissistic husband and her special needs kid. A bunch of others introduced themselves with their own mental health diagnoses. Their lives are harder than those who can spend four years living in dorms and eating in dining halls.
There’s no easy solution except first to realize that a one-size approach excludes many. Today, a former president reflects on why good intentions and the right values aren’t enough.