Kids these days...
Meg and I both work at a college. I'm new to higher ed-- this is only my third year-- but Meg has worked at the college level for more than 10 years. I've learned a myriad of things about higher ed that I don't feel like discussing because it isn't necessarily positive (silos, bureaucracy, finances, the disparity among faculty and staff). Instead, today I want to talk about the students, because the student of today is nowhere like the students who graduated twenty or even ten years ago.
I went to a small, liberal arts, women's college in Maryland from 2000 to 2004. I loved it. Sure, there were some issues with a variety of things (the biggest being that we went co-ed my senior year, though now I recognize that was a necessary change in order to keep the doors open.) I lived in a traditional dorm setting for all 4 years, and by that I mean I shared a community bathroom with anywhere from 10 to 30 women, I ate most meals in the dining hall, and I walked from one side of campus to the other to attend practices, classes, meetings, or events. When I think of "the college life", this is what comes to my mind. It helps that the campus at my alma mater is meticulously manicured year round, nary a weed in any flower bed. I remember spring being my favorite time of year because of the daffodils-- it's too hot for them in Florida, but the bright color reminded me of the sunshine at home. I digress.
As a member of the alumni board, I sat in on a "state of the college" address from our very friendly former president who discussed the serious need for dorm updates because "today's student doesn't want to share a bathroom with 30 other people." After my gasp of surprise, (hello, shower beers before parties? The. Best. Ever.) I understood that maybe the more modest of students would want more privacy than my group of friends wanted. But I dismissed that as heresy and just figured, "They're never going to renovate the dorms... too much money, too much work."
Then I began listening to the Revisionist History podcast by Malcolm Gladwell (he wrote Blink, The Tipping Point, Outliers, among others). His "about" section describes the podcast as a closer look and reinterpretation of "something from the past: an event, a person, an idea. Something overlooked. Something misunderstood." Meg and I listened to his episode, "Food Fight" with rapt attention. In it, Malcolm points out differences between two elite private colleges competing for the same students. He says that "one of these schools is trying hard to address the problem of rich and poor in American society--and paying a high price. The other is making that problem worse-- and reaping rewards as a result." It sounds drastic and scary... and parts of it are. But the bare bones talks about students, and their wants and needs. One college dining hall employees a Michelin star chef who uses things like petite micro-greens, grass fed beef, and truffle in his menu regularly; the other college has a more typical buffet for meals. When I was in college 17 years ago, I don't even think micro-greens existed, sustainability wasn't a buzz word, and everyone I knew assumed that cows ate grass because, well, that's what cows do. The last two decades have brought with it a wealth of knowledge, accessible now with just our thumbs. We can find articles, videos, or blogs about the need for organic foods, how global warming will soon cause billions of people to suffer from starvation, or how to make your own cashew butter. People are more informed, and this includes students and their families.
Someone in that podcast made a statement that totally blew our minds-- something so simple, yet an idea that neither of us has ever considered. Most people entering college right now have had their own bedroom for their entire lives. And of most of those people have never had to share a bathroom. I am 35 years old, and the last time I went to my family home was in March when my brother, sister and I helped our parents move into a new house (no husbands or wives, just the three of us. It was nice, and sad. Mostly nice.). My sister and I shared a room (twin beds, duh), and the three of us shared a bathroom. And we all thought that was completely normal life. So because future college freshman have never had to share a bedroom or a bathroom, colleges are facing serious issues in providing "adequate" housing. Obviously, "adequate" housing to me and you is not the same as it is to kids today, but many colleges have not taken that into consideration. How do you survive if you're not meeting the needs of your consumers? Short answer, you don't.
At this college, students seem to "deal" with dorm life for the first year or so, then find a place to move off campus, either at a swanky apartment complex that is within walking distance or at a number of private rentals throughout the town. Colleges lose revenue when students move off campus, both in room and in meal plans. But what is the answer? Dorm renovations cost millions of dollars, and donors may not understand the need to provide "suite" living to 18-year-olds. I think colleges and universities need to put this question into the hands of their students. When we stop asking our consumers what they want, we lose our relevance.
I went to a small, liberal arts, women's college in Maryland from 2000 to 2004. I loved it. Sure, there were some issues with a variety of things (the biggest being that we went co-ed my senior year, though now I recognize that was a necessary change in order to keep the doors open.) I lived in a traditional dorm setting for all 4 years, and by that I mean I shared a community bathroom with anywhere from 10 to 30 women, I ate most meals in the dining hall, and I walked from one side of campus to the other to attend practices, classes, meetings, or events. When I think of "the college life", this is what comes to my mind. It helps that the campus at my alma mater is meticulously manicured year round, nary a weed in any flower bed. I remember spring being my favorite time of year because of the daffodils-- it's too hot for them in Florida, but the bright color reminded me of the sunshine at home. I digress.
As a member of the alumni board, I sat in on a "state of the college" address from our very friendly former president who discussed the serious need for dorm updates because "today's student doesn't want to share a bathroom with 30 other people." After my gasp of surprise, (hello, shower beers before parties? The. Best. Ever.) I understood that maybe the more modest of students would want more privacy than my group of friends wanted. But I dismissed that as heresy and just figured, "They're never going to renovate the dorms... too much money, too much work."
Then I began listening to the Revisionist History podcast by Malcolm Gladwell (he wrote Blink, The Tipping Point, Outliers, among others). His "about" section describes the podcast as a closer look and reinterpretation of "something from the past: an event, a person, an idea. Something overlooked. Something misunderstood." Meg and I listened to his episode, "Food Fight" with rapt attention. In it, Malcolm points out differences between two elite private colleges competing for the same students. He says that "one of these schools is trying hard to address the problem of rich and poor in American society--and paying a high price. The other is making that problem worse-- and reaping rewards as a result." It sounds drastic and scary... and parts of it are. But the bare bones talks about students, and their wants and needs. One college dining hall employees a Michelin star chef who uses things like petite micro-greens, grass fed beef, and truffle in his menu regularly; the other college has a more typical buffet for meals. When I was in college 17 years ago, I don't even think micro-greens existed, sustainability wasn't a buzz word, and everyone I knew assumed that cows ate grass because, well, that's what cows do. The last two decades have brought with it a wealth of knowledge, accessible now with just our thumbs. We can find articles, videos, or blogs about the need for organic foods, how global warming will soon cause billions of people to suffer from starvation, or how to make your own cashew butter. People are more informed, and this includes students and their families.
Someone in that podcast made a statement that totally blew our minds-- something so simple, yet an idea that neither of us has ever considered. Most people entering college right now have had their own bedroom for their entire lives. And of most of those people have never had to share a bathroom. I am 35 years old, and the last time I went to my family home was in March when my brother, sister and I helped our parents move into a new house (no husbands or wives, just the three of us. It was nice, and sad. Mostly nice.). My sister and I shared a room (twin beds, duh), and the three of us shared a bathroom. And we all thought that was completely normal life. So because future college freshman have never had to share a bedroom or a bathroom, colleges are facing serious issues in providing "adequate" housing. Obviously, "adequate" housing to me and you is not the same as it is to kids today, but many colleges have not taken that into consideration. How do you survive if you're not meeting the needs of your consumers? Short answer, you don't.
At this college, students seem to "deal" with dorm life for the first year or so, then find a place to move off campus, either at a swanky apartment complex that is within walking distance or at a number of private rentals throughout the town. Colleges lose revenue when students move off campus, both in room and in meal plans. But what is the answer? Dorm renovations cost millions of dollars, and donors may not understand the need to provide "suite" living to 18-year-olds. I think colleges and universities need to put this question into the hands of their students. When we stop asking our consumers what they want, we lose our relevance.
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