Tag: Higher education access

  • Math can be a path to success after prison

    Math can be a path to success after prison

    Hancy Maxis spent 17 years incarcerated in New York prisons. He knew that he needed to have a plan for when he got out.

    “Once I am back in New York City, once I am back in the economy, how will I be marketable?” he said. “For me, math was that pathway.”

    In 2015, Maxis completed a bachelor’s degree in math through the Bard Prison Initiative, an accredited college-in-prison program. He wrote his senior project about how to use game theory to advance health care equity, after observing the disjointed care his mom received when she was diagnosed with breast cancer. (She’s now recovered.)

    When he was released in 2018, Maxis immediately applied for a master’s program at Columbia University’s Mailman School of Public Health. He graduated and now works as the assistant director of operations at Montefiore Medical Center in the Bronx. He helped guide the hospital’s response to Covid.

    Maxis is one of many people I’ve spoken to in recent years while reporting on the role that learning math can play in the lives of those who are incarcerated. Math literacy often contributes to economic success: A 2021 study of more than 5,500 adults found that participants made $4,062 more per year for each correct answer on an eight-question math test.

    While there don’t appear to be any studies specifically on the effect of math education for people in prison, a pile of research shows that prison education programs lower recidivism rates among participants and increase their chances of employment after they’re released.

    Hancy Maxis spent 17 years incarcerated in New York prisons. He now works as the assistant director of operations at Montefiore Medical Center in the Bronx. Credit: Yunuen Bonaparte for The Hechinger Report

    Plus, math — and education in general — can be empowering. A 2022 study found that women in prison education programs reported higher self-esteem, a greater sense of belonging and more hope for the future than women who had never been incarcerated and had not completed post-secondary education.

    Yet many people who enter prison have limited math skills and have had poor relationships with math in school. More than half (52 percent) of those incarcerated in U.S. prisons lack basic numeracy skills, such as the ability to do multiplication with larger numbers, long division or interpret simple graphs, according to the most recent numbers from the National Center for Educational Statistics. The absence of these basic skills is even more pronounced among Black and Hispanic people in prison, who make up more than half of those incarcerated in federal prisons.

    In my reporting, I discovered that there are few programs offering math instruction in prison, and those that do exist typically include few participants. Bard’s highly competitive program, for example, is supported primarily through private donations, and is limited to seven of New York’s 42 prisons. The recent expansion of federal Pell Grants to individuals who are incarcerated presents an opportunity for more people in prison to get these basic skills and better their chances for employment after release.

    Alyssa Knight, executive director of the Freedom Education Project Puget Sound, which she co-founded while incarcerated, said that for years, educational opportunities in prison were created primarily by people who were incarcerated, who wrote to professors and educators to ask if they might send materials or teach inside the prison. But public recognition of the value of prison education, including math, is rising, and the Pell Grant expansion and state-level legislation have made it easier for colleges to set up programs for people serving time. Now, Knight said, “Colleges are seeking prisons.”

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    Jeffrey Abramowitz understands firsthand how math can help someone after prison. After completing a five-year stint in a federal prison, his first post-prison job was teaching math to adults who were preparing to take the GED exam.

    Fast forward nearly a decade, and Abramowitz is now the CEO of The Petey Greene Program, an organization that provides one-on-one tutoring, educational supports and programs in reading, writing and now math, to help people in prison and who have left prison receive the necessary education requirements for a high school diploma, college acceptance or career credentials.

    The average Petey Greene student’s math skills are at a fourth- or fifth-grade level, according to Abramowitz, which is in line with the average for “justice-impacted” learners; the students tend to struggle with basic math such as addition and multiplication.

    “You can’t be successful within most industries without being able to read, write and do basic math,” Abramowitz said. “We’re starting to see more blended programs that help people find a career pathway when they come home — and the center of all this is math and reading.”

    Abramowitz and his team noticed this lack of math skills particularly among students  in vocational training programs, such as carpentry, heating and cooling and commercial driving. To qualify to work in these fields, these students often need to pass a licensing test, requiring math and reading knowledge.

    The nonprofit offers “integrated education training” to help  students learn the relevant math for their professions. For instance, a carpentry teacher will teach students how to use a saw in or near a classroom where a math teacher explains fractions and how they relate to the measurements needed to cut a piece of wood.

    “They may be able to do the task fine, but they can’t pass the test because they don’t know the math,” Abramowitz said.

    Math helped Paul Morton after he left prison, he told me. When he began his 10.5 years in prison, he only could do GED-level math. After coming across an introductory physics book in the third year of his time in prison, he realized he didn’t have the math skills needed for the science described in it.

    He asked his family to send him math textbooks and, over the seven years until his release, taught himself algebra and calculus.

    The recent expansion of federal Pell Grants to individuals who are incarcerated presents an opportunity for more people in prison to get these basic skills and better their chances for employment after release. Credit: Helen H. Richardson/The Denver Post via Getty Images

    “I relentlessly spent six hours on one problem one day,” he said. “I was determined to do it, to get it right.”

    I met Morton through the organization the Prison Mathematics Project, which helped him develop his math knowledge inside prison by connecting him with an outside mathematician. After his release from a New York prison in 2023, he moved to Rochester, New York, and is hoping to take the actuarial exam, which requires a lot of math. He continues to study differential equations on his own.

    Related: It used to be a notoriously violent prison. Now it’s home to a first-of-its-kind higher education program

    The Prison Mathematics Project delivers math materials and programs to people in prison, and connects them with mathematicians as mentors. (It also brings math professors, educators and enthusiasts to meet program participants through “Pi Day” events; I attended one such event in 2023 when I produced a podcast episode about the program, and the organization paid for my travel and accommodations.)

    The organization was started in 2015 by Christopher Havens, who was then incarcerated at Washington State Penitentiary in Walla Walla. Havens’ interest in math puzzles, and then in algebra, calculus and other areas of mathematics, was ignited early in his 25-year- term when a prison volunteer slid some sudoku puzzles under his door.

    “I had noticed all these changes happening inside of me,” Havens told me. “My whole life, I was searching for that beauty through drugs and social acceptance … When I found real beauty [in math], it got me to practice introspection.”

    As he fell in love with math, he started corresponding with mathematicians to help him solve problems, and talking to other men at the prison to get them interested too. He created a network of math resources for people in prisons, which became the Prison Mathematics Project.

    The group’s website says it helps people in prison use math to help with “rebuilding their lives both during and after their incarceration.”

    Related: How Danielle Metz got an education after incarceration

    But Ben Jeffers, its executive director, has noticed that the message doesn’t connect with everyone in prison. Among the 299 Prison Mathematics Project participants on whom the program has data, the majority — 56 percent — are white, he told me, while 25 percent are Black, 10 percent are Hispanic, 2 percent are Asian and 6 percent are another race or identity. Ninety-three percent of project participants are male.

    Yet just 30 percent of the U.S. prison population is white, while 35 percent of those incarcerated are Black, 31 percent are Hispanic and 4 percent are of other races, according to the United State Sentencing Commission. (The racial makeup of the program’s 18 female participants at women’s facilities is much more in line with that of the prison population at large.)

    “[It’s] the same issues that you have like in any classroom in higher education,” said Jeffers, who is finishing his master’s in math in Italy. “At the university level and beyond, every single class is majority white male.”

    He noted that anxiety about math tends to be more acute among women and people of any gender who are Black, Hispanic, or from other underrepresented groups, and may keep them from signing up for the program. 

    Sherry Smith understands that kind of anxiety. She didn’t even want to step foot into a math class. When she arrived at Southern Maine Women’s Reentry Center in December 2021, she was 51, had left high school when she was 16, and had only attended two weeks of a ninth grade math class.

    “I was embarrassed that I had dropped out,” she said. “I hated to disclose that to people.”

    Related: ‘Revolutionary’ housing: How colleges aim to support a growing number of formerly incarcerated students 

    Smith decided to enroll in the prison’s GED program because she could do the classes one-on-one with a friendly and patient teacher. “It was my time,” she said. “Nobody else was listening, I could ask any question I needed.”

    In just five months, Smith completed her GED math class. She said she cried on her last day. Since 2022, she’s been pursuing an associate’s degree in human services — from prison — through a remote program with Washington County Community College.

    In Washington, Prison Mathematics Project founder Havens is finishing his sentence and continuing to study math. (Havens has been granted a clemency hearing and may be released as early as this year.) Since 2020, he has published four academic papers: three in math and one in sociology. He works remotely from prison as a staff research associate in cryptography at the University of California, Los Angeles, and wrote a math textbook about continued fractions.

    Havens is still involved in the Prison Mathematics Project, but handed leadership of the program over to Jeffers in October 2023. Now run from outside the prison, it is easier for the program to bring resources and mentorship to incarcerated students.

    “For 25 years of my life, I can learn something that I wouldn’t have the opportunity to learn in any other circumstances,” Havens said. “So I decided that I would, for the rest of my life, study mathematics.”

    Contact editor Caroline Preston at 212-870-8965 or [email protected].

    This story about math in prison was produced by The Hechinger Report, a nonprofit, independent news organization focused on inequality and innovation in education. Sign up for the Hechinger higher education newsletter.

    The Hechinger Report provides in-depth, fact-based, unbiased reporting on education that is free to all readers. But that doesn’t mean it’s free to produce. Our work keeps educators and the public informed about pressing issues at schools and on campuses throughout the country. We tell the whole story, even when the details are inconvenient. Help us keep doing that.

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  • STUDENT VOICE: The path to health equity begins in K-12 classrooms

    STUDENT VOICE: The path to health equity begins in K-12 classrooms

    Imagine a classroom in which young students are excitedly discussing their future aspirations and a career in medicine feels like a tangible goal rather than a distant dream. Now, imagine that most of the students come from historically marginalized communities — Black, Hispanic and Indigenous populations — that disproportionately face higher rates of chronic illness, shorter life expectancies and poorer health outcomes.

    We know that these disparities can shrink when patients are cared for by doctors who share their cultural backgrounds and lived experiences. The problem? Our health care workforce remains overwhelmingly unrepresentative of the communities it serves.

    For many students from underrepresented backgrounds, a medical career feels out of reach. The path to becoming a doctor is daunting, full of obstacles like financial hardship, lack of mentorship and systemic inequities in education. Many students are sidelined long before they consider medical school, while those who persist face an uphill battle competing against peers with far more resources and support.

    To mitigate these disparities, we must look beyond our hospitals and medical schools and into the places where young minds are shaped: our K-12 classrooms. Early exposure to health care careers can ignite curiosity and show students that they belong in places where they have historically been excluded.

    Related: Become a lifelong learner. Subscribe to our free weekly newsletter to receive our comprehensive reporting directly in your inbox.

    Organizations like the Florida State University College of Medicine, with its “Science Students Together Reaching Instructional Diversity and Excellence” (SSTRIDE) program, are leading the way in breaking down barriers to medical careers for underrepresented students. SSTRIDE introduces middle and high school students to real-world medical environments, giving them firsthand exposure to health care settings that might otherwise feel distant or inaccessible. Then, the program threads together long-term mentorship, academic enrichment and extracurricular opportunities to build the confidence and skills students need to reach medical school.

    The 15 White Coats program in Louisiana takes a complementary but equally meaningful approach: transforming classroom environments by introducing culturally relevant imagery and literature that reflect the diversity of the medical profession. For many students, seeing doctors who look like them — featured in posters or books — can challenge internalized doubts and dismantle societal messages that suggest they don’t belong in medicine. Through fundraising efforts and scholarships, other initiatives from 15 White Coats tackle the financial barriers that disproportionately hinder “minority physician aspirants” from pursuing medical careers.

    The impact of these programs can be profound. Research shows that students exposed to careers in science or medicine at an early age are far more likely to pursue these fields later in life. And medical students who belong to underrepresented groups are the most likely to return to underserved communities to practice. Their presence can improve communication, foster patient trust and drive innovation in addressing health challenges unique to those communities.

    These programs can even have a ripple effect on families and entire communities. When young people pursue careers in medicine, they become role models for siblings, friends and neighbors. This creates a culture of aspiration in which success feels both possible and accessible, shifting societal perceptions and inspiring future generations to aim higher.

    But programs like 15 White Coats and SSTRIDE cannot thrive without sustained investment. We need personal and financial commitments to dismantle the systemic barriers that prevent students from underrepresented groups from entering medicine.

    Policymakers and educators must step up. Federal and state educational funding should prioritize grants for schools that partner with hospitals, medical schools and health care organizations. These partnerships should offer hands-on experiences like shadowing programs, medical summer camps and health care-focused career fairs. Medical professionals also have a role to play — they can volunteer as mentors or guest speakers, offering valuable guidance and demystifying the path to a medical career.

    Related: The ‘Fauci effect’: Inspired by front-line health care workers, record numbers apply to medical schools

    As a medical student, I know how transformative these experiences can be. They can inspire students to envision themselves in roles they might never have imagined and gain the confidence to pursue dreams that once seemed out of reach.

    Let’s be clear, representation in medicine is not about optics. It’s about improving health outcomes and driving meaningful change. Building a stronger, more diverse pipeline to the medical profession is not just an educational priority. It’s a public health imperative.

    An investment in young minds today is an investment in a health care system that represents, understands and serves everyone. Equity in health care starts long before a patient walks into a doctor’s office. It begins in the classroom.

    Surya Pulukuri is a member of the class of 2027 at Harvard Medical School.

    Contact the opinion editor at [email protected].

    This story about health equity was produced by The Hechinger Report, a nonprofit, independent news organization focused on inequality and innovation in education. Sign up for Hechinger’s weekly newsletter.

    The Hechinger Report provides in-depth, fact-based, unbiased reporting on education that is free to all readers. But that doesn’t mean it’s free to produce. Our work keeps educators and the public informed about pressing issues at schools and on campuses throughout the country. We tell the whole story, even when the details are inconvenient. Help us keep doing that.

    Join us today.

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  • How some universities are trying to revive the humanities

    How some universities are trying to revive the humanities

    TUCSON, Ariz. — Olivia Howe was hesitant at first to add French to her major in finance at the University of Arizona, fearing that it wouldn’t be very useful in the labor market.

    Then her language skills helped her land a job at the multinational technology company Siemens, which will be waiting for her when she graduates this spring.

    “The reason I got the job is because of my French. I didn’t see it as a practical choice, but now I do,” said Howe, who, to communicate with colleagues and clients, also plans to take up German. “The humanities taught me I could do it.”

    The simple message that majoring in the humanities pays off is being pushed aggressively by this university and a handful of others; they hope to reverse decades of plummeting enrollment in subjects that teach skills employers say they need from graduates but aren’t getting.

    The University of Arizona campus. The university is among a handful of higher education institutions taking steps to revive humanities enrollments. Credit: Mason Kumet for The Hechinger Report

    The number of undergraduates majoring in the humanities at the University of Arizona has increased 76 percent since 2018, when it introduced a bachelor’s degree in applied humanities that connects the humanities with programs in business, engineering, medicine and other fields. It also hired a humanities recruitment director and marketing team and started training faculty members to enlist students in the major with the promise that an education in the humanities leads to jobs.

    That’s an uncharacteristic role for humanities professors, who have tended to resist suggestions that it’s their role to ready students for the workforce.

    But it’s become an existential one.

    Nationwide, between 2012 and 2022 the number of undergraduate degrees awarded in the humanities — English, history, languages, literature, philosophy and related subjects — fell 24 percent, according to the American Academy of Arts and Sciences. It’s now below 200,000 for the first time in more than two decades.

    Related: Interested in more news about colleges and universities? Subscribe to our free biweekly higher education newsletter.

    In response, universities and colleges nationwide have started eliminating humanities departments and laying off humanities faculty as policymakers, parents and administrators put a premium on highly specialized subjects they believe lead more directly to jobs.

    Efforts to revitalize humanities enrollment are widely scattered, however, with surprisingly few examples like Arizona’s, and no guarantee of widespread success.

    “What we are up against is the constant negative storytelling about how the humanities are useless,” said Alain-Philippe Durand, dean of the University of Arizona’s College of Humanities and a professor of French.

    Higher education has largely struggled to counteract this. Presidents and deans use vague arguments that the humanities impart knowledge and create citizens of the world, when what tuition-paying consumers want to know is what they’ll get for their money and how they’ll repay their student loan debt.

    Alain-Philippe Durand is dean of humanities at the University of Arizona, where the number of undergraduates majoring in the humanities is up 76 percent since 2018. “What we are up against is the constant negative storytelling about how the humanities are useless,” he says. Credit: Mason Kumet for The Hechinger Report

    “When you tell them we are teaching the life of the mind, they laugh at you,” Durand said over lunch at the student center.

    “You have people saying, ‘Do we really need this?’ ” he said. “It should be the opposite: ‘Hey, did you know that in the College of Humanities we teach some of the most in-demand skills in the job market?’ ”

    Durand’s department went so far as to put that declaration on a billboard on Interstate 10 in Phoenix, conveniently near the campus of rival Arizona State University. “Humanities=Jobs,” it said, with the college’s web address. Durand keeps a model of it on a shelf in his office.

    The skills he’s talking about include how to communicate effectively, think critically, work in teams and be able to figure out a way to solve complex problems outside of a particular area of expertise. Employers say they want all of those but aren’t getting them from graduates who major in narrower fields.

    Eight out of 10 executives and hiring managers say it’s very or somewhat important that students emerge from college with these kinds of skills, according to a survey by the American Association of Colleges and Universities. Yet half said, in a separate survey by the Business-Higher Education Forum, that graduates are showing up without them, and that the problem is getting worse.

    Related: ‘Easy to just write us off’: Rural students’ choices shrink as colleges slash majors

    What employers want “is people who can make sense of the human experience,” said Rishi Jaitly, who has developed an executive education program at Virginia Polytechnic Institute that uses the humanities to help mid-career managers be better leaders.

    Along with Arizona, Virginia Tech is among a small group of universities taking steps to change the conversation about the humanities. A surprising number are technology-focused.

    These include the Georgia Institute of Technology, which has also started drawing a connection between the humanities and good jobs at high pay. That has helped boost undergraduate and graduate enrollment in Georgia Tech’s Ivan Allen College of Liberal Arts by 58 percent since 2019, to 1,884 students in 2023 — the most recent period for which the figure is available.

    Before then, “we were doing almost nothing to explain the value of the humanities,” said Richard Utz, interim dean. That’s important at a technological institute, he said. “So we started to connect each and every thing we do with the values that these kinds of skills have for [students’] career preparation.”

    A medievalist, Utz uses the example of assigning his students 15th-century Robin Hood ballads. “They read something that is entirely alien to them, that is in late medieval English, so they’re completely out of their comfort zone,” he said. Then they split into groups and consider the material from various perspectives. It makes them the kind of future workers “who are versatile enough to look at a situation from different points of view.”

    To him, Utz said, “the future of the humanities is not being hermetically sealed off, as in, ‘You’re over there and we’re over here.’ It’s making clear that the skills of engineers and computer scientists increase if you include the arts, the humanities, the social sciences.”

    Related: Apprenticeships are a trending alternative to college — but there’s a hitch

    That’s also the idea behind a program in French for medical professionals at Washington University in St. Louis, which recruits students who took French in high school but may not have continued. For some, it leads to studying in Nice and interning at a hospital there, an unusual opportunity for undergraduates.

    “These students, when they come back to the United States, they are accepted in the best medical schools because their dossiers are at the top of the pile,” said Lionel Cuillé, a professor of French who spearheads the initiative. “Those pre-meds take French because it is a clear added value to their first major.”

    The participants in the humanities-focused executive education program at Virginia Tech — in the first two years, they’ve come from Amazon, Microsoft, Boeing, Zillow and other companies — study history, philosophy, religion, classics, literature and the arts. They use these to consider questions about and qualities of leadership and see how what they learn can be applied to technology trends including data privacy and artificial intelligence.

    University of Arizona humanities dean Alain-Philippe Durand keeps a model of a billboard in his office that the department put up on Interstate 10 in Phoenix, near the campus of rival Arizona State, to promote the practical benefits of the humanities.

    “What I was observing around me in Silicon Valley and more generally was a world that was missing that story,” said Virginia Tech’s Jaitly, a former technology entrepreneur and founder of a venture capital firm whose own undergraduate degree was in history. “The superpowers of the future emanate from the humanities: introspection and imagination, storytelling and story-listening, critical thinking.”

    He purposely picked “leadership” instead of “humanities” for the name of the program, he said. “To me, ‘leadership’ is a high-impact word to show and not tell the power of the humanities.”

    With a $1.25 million grant from the Mellon Foundation, Emory University is helping faculty members redesign humanities courses to emphasize their relevance, said Barbara Krauthamer, dean of its College of Arts and Sciences. “We’re not denying the reality of career readiness, of real-world application and of the context of the world we live in now, which is increasingly technological and changing rapidly,” Krauthamer said.

    Related: The number of 18-year-olds is about to drop sharply, packing a wallop for colleges — and the economy 

    Central Michigan University in the fall began to offer a bachelor’s degree modeled on the University of Arizona’s, in “public and applied liberal arts.” It was added after the number of incoming students there who listed their intended majors as English, humanities and foreign languages fell from 179 in 2019 to zero in 2022 and 2023, according to university figures.

    That trend “has a lot to do with the fact that even at a regional public [university], you need to know how you’re going to pay the bills after you’re done,” said Christi Brookes, assistant dean of the College of Liberal Arts and Social Sciences. “It’s a question we’ve ignored.”

    The new degree connects humanities courses with the “applied fields” of entrepreneurship and environmental studies. Future combinations are planned with fashion and game design.

    The traditional argument for the humanities, Brookes said, has been, “ ‘Well, it will make you a better citizen and person.’ But what was left out was, ‘What does that look like on a day-to-day basis?’ What we’re trying to do is say, ‘Here’s the connection.’ ”

    Another way some universities are doing that is by showcasing the successes of former humanities students.

    The liberal arts college at Georgia Tech serves up a litany of alumni success stories on its website. Arizona’s College of Humanities has produced a video of graduate testimonials; it features a senior counsel at Netflix, a principal investigator for the first NASA mission to return rock samples from an asteroid, the head of corporate strategy at the meal-delivery service Blue Apron, a diplomat, a Broadway actor and Golden State Warriors head coach Steve Kerr.

    Judd Ruggill, head of the Department of Public and Applied Humanities at the University of Arizona. When parents see examples of humanities graduates in high-profile jobs, “you can see [them] visibly relaxing,” Ruggill says. Credit: Mason Kumet for The Hechinger Report

    When they see examples like these, “You can see the parents visibly relaxing,” said Judd Ruggill, head of Arizona’s Department of Public and Applied Humanities.

    The video is part of a relentless recruiting effort here, which ranges from a pop-up “humanities cafe” on the campus mall where faculty and advisers mingle with prospective majors to a mandatory two-day recruitment workshop training graduate teaching assistants to pick out humanities prospects among the students in required general-education courses. “Talent-spotting,” the college calls it.

    “I think they know we need that push,” said senior Liliana Quiroz, who added Italian to her anthropology major after being prodded by a faculty member. Even then, she said, “My parents didn’t quite understand the benefits. There wasn’t that understanding of the skill sets that represented.”

    But when she got an internship in a marketing department, she realized her humanities experience made her “confident enough to figure it out as I went.” She used self-reliance she learned taking on the challenge of a new language, Quiroz said, and analytical skills she developed reading literature in the original Italian.

    Related: As public colleges begin to merge or shut down, one state shows how hard it is

    Howe, the University of Arizona French and business double major, may not have initially thought French would help her get a job. She simply liked it and wanted to improve her skills — something else that advocates of the humanities say is being lost as colleges keep dropping these programs.

    “I definitely discovered ways that it helped me in my finance career later on, but at the outset it was my passion that drove me to French,” she said.

    Fellow senior Peyton Broskoff combined business administration with applied humanities. She also took a humanities course for which she teamed up with other students to revitalize a community library. That taught her “intercultural competence — just being able to understand and work with people.” It will help her in a future job, she said. “If you can market to different people, that means you can sell more products.”

    Arturo Padilla signed up for a joint program in religious studies for health professionals. The son of indigenous Mexican parents, he plans to use what he is learning to combine traditional wellness and healing with modern medical practices.

    Maxwell Eller has gotten something simpler from his major in classics. “It helped my attention span in a world of YouTube and Instagram,” said the University of Arizona senior. “I felt my knowledge was pretty shallow. I wanted to wrestle with ambiguities.” And learning the grammatical structures of Latin and Greek helped him in his volunteer work teaching English to women in Afghanistan.

    University of Arizona humanities dean Alain-Philippe Durand keeps a model of a billboard in his office that the department put up on Interstate 10 in Phoenix, near the campus of rival Arizona State, to promote the practical benefits of the humanities. Credit: Mason Kumet for The Hechinger Report

    While their incomes in the 10 years after graduation are below the median of all college graduates, students who go to liberal arts colleges, over the long term, earn a total of about $200,000 more according to the Georgetown Center on Education and the Workforce.

    With little overhead, the humanities are also comparatively cheap to teach. Producing a credit hour in English or philosophy costs only a little more than half of what it costs to produce a credit hour in engineering, a study for the University of North Carolina System by Deloitte and the Burning Glass Institute found.

    Still, humanities departments at public universities including Arizona’s are funded based on the number of students they enroll, making their recovery a matter of survival.

    “At some point, we had to do something,” said Matt Mars, a professor in Arizona’s Department of Public and Applied Humanities. “If we think innovation is important, then we need to be innovative.”

    It may take more than that. Some legislators who control the budgets of public universities and colleges have been skeptical of the value of humanities departments, especially those that house such subjects as gender and ethnic studies.

    Some humanities faculty also bristle at the idea that their work is relevant only when combined with more career-oriented disciplines, said Durand, at the University of Arizona. “But you have to be aligned with your students,” he said.

    Younger humanities faculty “get it,” Durand said. “They are willing to do interdepartmental collaboration. They know we can’t do things the way we always have.”

    Contact writer Jon Marcus at 212-678-7556 or [email protected].

    This story on the liberal arts was produced by The Hechinger Report, a nonprofit, independent news organization focused on inequality and innovation in education. Sign up for our higher education newsletter. Listen to our higher education podcast.

    The Hechinger Report provides in-depth, fact-based, unbiased reporting on education that is free to all readers. But that doesn’t mean it’s free to produce. Our work keeps educators and the public informed about pressing issues at schools and on campuses throughout the country. We tell the whole story, even when the details are inconvenient. Help us keep doing that.

    Join us today.

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  • As diversity rates at elite colleges hang in the balance, some students still face increased exclusion and barriers

    As diversity rates at elite colleges hang in the balance, some students still face increased exclusion and barriers

    Diversity rates at several elite colleges and universities have plummeted, a little over a year after the Supreme Court’s restriction on race-conscious admissions. It’s a divisive but unsurprising blow to historically underrepresented students seeking educational opportunity and access.

    While demographic data is still forthcoming, the challenges these students face to attend certain colleges continue to build. MIT, Amherst College, and Tufts have already seen sharp declines in the diversity of their student populations.

    But not all is lost. Ethnically diverse students have options to express their full identities, and organizations providing services to them have options to support these students’ overall success through postsecondary pathways.

    While assessing the state of race in higher education admissions, we cannot ignore its historical context in colleges in America. Colleges and universities were built by and explicitly served the educational needs of wealthy white men. For too long, the only people of color on campus were the (often enslaved) servants of white students.

    We should also bear in mind that, at elite universities today, the students who are overlooked in favor of race-neutral policies are not the only ones who miss out — students already on campus lose out on the richness that having a diverse array of educational experiences can provide, with their opportunities to encounter alternative viewpoints limited.

    Related: Interested in innovations in the field of higher education? Subscribe to our free biweekly Higher Education newsletter.

    Oftentimes, first-generation, Black, Hispanic and Native American students experience an inherent and often unspoken isolation on campus at predominantly white institutions.

    As a Black Chicana, I vividly remember being the singular student of color in my freshman-year seminar at Michigan State. My experience was not without the awkwardness of questioning my own merit and if I belonged there in the first place. We traveled to Ireland, and due to the humidity, I put on my silk bonnet to protect my hair. It was met with questions and stares.

    Here we are in 2025, discussing the all-too-familiar concept of racial bias in America, while institutions are bound by new laws that result in restricted access for the students whose right to educational access has historically been systematically denied. So what can we do?

    While it requires creativity, students can still highlight who they are in their applications by foregrounding their lived experiences outside of their grades, test scores and academic histories. For example, students can share the intricacies of being a historically marginalized person in America — from being asked to speak English to being pulled over for driving while Black. They can write about their experiences and identities in personal statements and on their resumes and through discussions of their community involvement. Students owe it to themselves to share their personal moments of overcoming barriers in everyday life.

    Related: What’s a college degree worth? States start to demand colleges share the data

    Institutions can ask essay questions that provoke such responses and allow students to share without prejudice or fear of reprisal. Students’ insightful perspectives should be applauded by educational institutions, and the power of their words should be respected.

    Underrepresented students also have options other than the traditional elite universities. Historically Black colleges and universities (HBCUs) and Hispanic-serving institutions (HSIs) are an alternative to predominantly white institutions like the ones mentioned above. Students can make the college experience what they want and need, and it is no different at smaller institutions like Lane College, an HBCU, or Colorado State University, Pueblo, an HSI.

    At these schools, a student’s culture and identity are revered and shared. Educational institutions that see the value in diversity should be reconsidered as the best option for ethnically diverse students.

    And, as educational institutions grapple with the effects of the Supreme Court ruling, they should support the students from historically marginalized populations already on their campuses to ensure that they feel welcome, supported and valued. Building robust affinity groups not only provides current students with communities they can co-create and adapt to their needs, but also demonstrates that the institutions are committed to creating spaces for all students.

    Scholarship providers and organizations that support underrepresented students will continue to play a vital role in fostering diversity on college campuses. Mission-driven organizations like the one I work for, the Sachs Foundation, still help Black students who lack the financial capacity or easy access to attend elite schools like MIT and Brown.

    Students deserve to have their whole selves valued, welcomed and supported when applying for higher education.

    Pamela Roberts-Mora is the chief operations officer at the Sachs Foundation, serving Black youth from Colorado through educational and community programs. She was a first-generation college student.

    Contact the opinion editor at [email protected].

    This story about college diversity was produced by The Hechinger Report, a nonprofit, independent news organization focused on inequality and innovation in education. Sign up for our higher education newsletter. Listen to our higher education podcast.

    The Hechinger Report provides in-depth, fact-based, unbiased reporting on education that is free to all readers. But that doesn’t mean it’s free to produce. Our work keeps educators and the public informed about pressing issues at schools and on campuses throughout the country. We tell the whole story, even when the details are inconvenient. Help us keep doing that.

    Join us today.

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  • Like private colleges, some public college campuses are beginning to close

    Like private colleges, some public college campuses are beginning to close

    RANDOLPH, Vt. — The thermostat was turned low in the admissions office at Vermont State University on a cold winter morning.

    It’s “one of our efficiencies,” quipped David Bergh, the institution’s president, who works in the same building.

    Bergh was joking. But he was referring to something decidedly serious: the public university system’s struggle to reduce a deficit so deep, it threatened to permanently shutter several campuses after dramatic drop-offs in enrollment and revenue.

    While much attention has been focused on how enrollment declines are putting private, nonprofit colleges out of business at an accelerating rate — at least 17 of them in 2024 — public universities and colleges are facing their own existential crises.

    State institutions nationwide are being merged and campuses shut down, many of them in places where there is already comparatively little access to higher education.

    David Bergh, president of the newly consolidated Vermont State University, in the building where he works at the VTSU campus in Randolph. “Public institutions are not exempt from the challenges” facing higher education, Bergh says. Credit: Oliver Parini for The Hechinger Report

    “Public institutions are not exempt from the challenges” facing higher education, Bergh said. “We are already seeing it, and we’re going to see more of it, and it’s particularly acute in some more rural states, where there’s a real need to balance limited resources but maintain access for students.”

    Vermont is a case study for this, and an example of how political and other realities make it so hard for public universities and colleges to adapt to the problems confronting them.

    “The demographics of fewer traditional-age college students, the over-building of these campuses, the change in the demand for what we need for our workforce in terms of programs — this is something that’s happening everywhere,” said Vermont State Rep. Lynn Dickinson, who chairs the Vermont State Colleges System Board of Trustees.

    Related: Interested in innovations in higher education? Subscribe to our free biweekly higher education newsletter.

    Public university and college mergers have already happened in Pennsylvania, Georgia, California and Minnesota, and public campuses have closed in Ohio and Wisconsin. A merger of public universities and community colleges in New Hampshire is under study.

    When state university and college campuses close, the repercussions for communities around them can be dire.

    Until this month, local students had a college “in their backyard,” said Thomas Nelson, county executive in Outagamie County, Wisconsin, where the two-year Fox Cities outpost of the University of Wisconsin Oshkosh this spring will become the sixth public campus in that state to be shuttered since 2023, after a long enrollment slide. “We’ve had this institution for 60 years in our community, and now it’s gone.”

    Not only students are affected. In many rural counties, “there really isn’t a lot beyond the university,” Nelson said. “So that’s going to be devastating for the economy. It’s going to kill jobs. It’s going to be one more strike against them when they are competing with other communities with more amenities.”

    Attempts to close these campuses attract the intervention of politicians, who have more control over whether public than private nonprofit colleges in their districts close. After all, “they own the place,” said Dan Greenstein, former chancellor of Pennsylvania’s State System of Higher Education, who — after that state’s enrollment fell by nearly one-fifth — led a reconfiguration that resulted in six previously separate public universities there being merged into two systems.

    Even trying to rename a public university can have political consequences. When Augusta State University in Georgia was combined with Georgia Health Sciences University to become Georgia Regents University, there was a local outcry over the fact that “Augusta” was no longer in the name. Within two years, the merged school had yet another new name: Augusta University.

    “Public institutions are complex structures,” said Ricardo Azziz, who led that consolidation, served as president of the resulting institution and now heads the Center for Higher Education Mergers and Acquisitions at the Foundation for Research and Education Excellence. “They’re influenced by politics. They’re influenced by elected officials.”

    Related: ‘Easy to just write us off’: Rural students’ choices shrink as colleges slash majors

    When the proposal to close campuses in Vermont was met with public and political resistance, state planners backed down and decided instead to merge them, laying off staff and cutting programs. That did not go well, either, and resulted in raucous public meetings, votes of “no confidence,” plans that were announced and then rescinded and a revolving door of presidents and chancellors. Only now, in its second year, has the process gotten smoother.

    Alarm bells started sounding about problems in Vermont’s state universities before the Covid-19 pandemic. With the nation’s third-oldest median age, after Maine and New Hampshire, according to the Census Bureau, the state had already seen its number of young people graduating from high school fall by 25 percent over the previous decade.

    Enrollment at the public four-year and community college campuses — not including the flagship University of Vermont, which is separate — was down by more than 11 percent. A fifth of the rooms in the dorms were empty. And with the birthrate in the state lower than it was before the Civil War, there was no rebound in sight.

    These trends have contributed to the closings of six of Vermont’s in-person undergraduate private, nonprofit colleges and universities since 2016.

    “We’d be keeping our head in the sand if we didn’t think that those same forces were going to affect our public higher education system,” said Jeb Spaulding, who, as chancellor at the time, merged two of Vermont’s five state colleges, in Johnson and Lyndon, in 2018.

    The red ink continued to flow. Two years later, just after Covid hit, Spaulding recommended that three of the five public campuses be shut down altogether — Johnson and Lyndon, plus Vermont Technical College in Randolph.

    Related: Colleges are now closing at a pace of one a week. What happens to the students?

    “What we needed to do was save the Vermont State Colleges System as a whole,” which has 145 buildings for fewer than 5,000 students, Spaulding recalled. That same problem of excess capacity is affecting higher education nationwide.

    “It was well known that we had too much bricks and mortar for the number of traditional-type students that were going to be available in Vermont,” Spaulding said. “We saw all that coming, and we had started a process of educating people and working on what would be a realistic public-sector consolidation plan so that we could actually put our resources into having a smaller constellation, but well financed and up to date.”

    The reaction to the plan was explosive, even in the midst of a pandemic. At socially distanced drive-by protests, critics brandished signs that said: “Start Saving: Fire Jeb.” Within four days, the proposal to close campuses was withdrawn. A week after that, Spaulding resigned.

    “I guess I didn’t realize that in the public realm, you can’t make the kind of difficult decisions that if you were at a private institution you would have to make,” he recounted. “When the politics got involved, then it became clear to me that there was no way that I was going to be able to get that through.”

    Instead of closing the campuses, the state decided to combine them with the other two, in Castleton and Williston, all under one umbrella renamed Vermont State University, or VTSU. In exchange, the blended institutions would be required to cut spending to help reduce a deficit estimated at the time to be about $22 million.

    That decision was almost as contentious. As in Georgia, even the name was controversial. Alumni petitioned in vain for the new system to be called Castleton University instead of Vermont State, to preserve the legacy of the state’s oldest and the nation’s 18th-longest-operating higher education institution, founded in 1787, instead of demoting it to “Castleton Campus.”

    Related: A trend colleges might not want applicants to notice: It’s becoming easier to get in

    Beth Mauch, who as chancellor has overseen VTSU and Vermont’s community college campuses since January, said she gets this kind of sentiment. “There are community members who have had these institutions in their community. There are folks who are alumni of these institutions who remember them in a certain way,” said Mauch. “Really, they are in the fabric of a community.”

    Beth Mauch, chancellor of the Vermont State University system and the state’s community college campuses. “Really, they are in the fabric of a community,” Mauch says. Credit: Oliver Parini for The Hechinger Report

    That close relationship between the universities and their communities only resulted in additional friction when 23 full-time faculty positions were cut, out of the then-existing 208. So were an equal number of administrators and staff. Not only were there more beds and buildings than were needed for the number of students, there were too many faculty compared to other comparably sized universities, a planning document said.

    Neighbors of the campuses, and their elected representatives, didn’t see it that way.

    “The people that work at the colleges are local. Everyone knows people that work at these colleges,” said Billie Neathawk, a librarian at what was formerly Castleton University for more than 25 years, and a union officer. “They’re related to people. Especially in a small state like Vermont, everybody knows everybody.”

    The layoffs went through anyway. There were also cuts to majors. Ten academic programs were eliminated, 10 others changed locations and still others were consolidated. That meant students at any campus could take the remaining courses in a format combining in-person and online instruction that the system dubbed “In-Person Plus.”

    Lilly Hudson is a junior at Vermont State University, whose consolidation means some programs are being offered online. Hudson prefers learning in a classroom but liked being able to take a class online from another campus that wasn’t available on hers. Credit: Oliver Parini for The Hechinger Report

    Lilly Hudson, a junior at Castleton, said she prefers learning in a classroom. “It’s just such a difference to be able to see people and meet your professors and go in person,” said Hudson, who is majoring in early education. But she was also able to take a class online from another campus that wasn’t available on hers.

    That can be an underappreciated upside to mergers, said Greenstein, now managing director of higher education practice at the consulting firm Baker Tilly. “You can only run as many programs, majors and minors as you can enroll students into,” he said. But by merging institutions and letting students take courses from other campuses online, “now they can go from 20 programs to 80 or 90.”

    While that seemed a step forward, the consolidated university’s inaugural president, Parwinder Grewal, next announced that, to cut costs, its libraries would go all-digital and give away their books, the Randolph campus would no longer field intercollegiate sports teams, and athletics on the Johnson campus would move from the NCAA to the less prestigious U.S. Collegiate Athletic Association.

    Related: Universities and colleges search for ways to reverse the decline in the ranks of male students

    This proved another blunder in a state so fond of its libraries that it has the nation’s highest per-capita number of library visits, and where rural communities rally around even Division 3 athletics. Faculty and staff unions and student government associations on every campus voted “no confidence” in the university’s administration. Athletes transferred away. Grewal was loudly booed when he met with students.

    “There was a hot streak there where, every email, we were, like, now what’s going on?” said Raymonda Parchment, a student who was halfway toward her bachelor’s degree at the time.

    Raymonda Parchment, who just graduated from Vermont State University, is grateful that a plan to close some public campuses was reversed. “If you can’t afford to go out of state for college, and you can’t afford to pay for maybe a dorm for a couple of years, where does that leave you if there’s no school within commuting distance?” she asks. Credit: Oliver Parini for The Hechinger Report

    The library and athletics decisions were eventually reversed, too, and Grewal was out before he’d served a full year. But the damage was done. When the new university finally debuted, at the start of the 2023-24 school year, freshman enrollment was down by about 14 percent from what it had been at the separate campuses the year before.

    “I know a lot of friends whose programs were consolidated and shuffled around,” said Parchment, in an otherwise empty study room on the snow-covered Johnson campus. “That was probably the biggest change for students that had direct impact on them. Some people’s programs don’t exist anymore. Some people’s programs have been moved to a different campus.”

    Vermont is still working out the kinks, said Bergh, the system’s current president, who was the president of private, nonprofit Cazenovia College in New York when it closed in 2023.

    Although first-year enrollment went up about 14 percent this fall, he said, “We’re still surfacing places where our systems aren’t talking to each other as well as they should be, and that we need to correct.”

    Parchment likes that it’s easier now to move from one campus in the system to another, without having to go through the red tape of the transfer process. She graduated at the end of the fall semester after moving from Castleton to Johnson to be closer to an internship.

    And no campuses were ultimately closed, as had been proposed — a relief to students, prospective students and community members, Parchment said. “Because if you can’t afford to go out of state for college, and you can’t afford to pay for maybe a dorm for a couple of years, where does that leave you if there’s no school within commuting distance?”

    Hudson, the Castleton student, whose father is a sixth-generation farrier — a specialist in trimming, cleaning and shoeing horses’ hooves — agreed.

    The campuses are “in the middle of an area where there’s a lot of rural towns,” she said. Keeping them in operation means that students nearby who want to go to college “don’t have to pick up their lives and move.”

    But Spaulding, the former chancellor, warned that public higher education budget and enrollment problems aren’t likely to subside, in Vermont or many other states.

    “I don’t think the storm is over by any stretch of the imagination.”

    Contact writer Jon Marcus at 212-678-7556 or [email protected].

    This story about public college closings was produced by The Hechinger Report, a nonprofit, independent news organization focused on inequality and innovation in education. Additional reporting by Liam Elder-Connors. Sign up for our higher education newsletter. Listen to our higher education podcast.

    The Hechinger Report provides in-depth, fact-based, unbiased reporting on education that is free to all readers. But that doesn't mean it's free to produce. Our work keeps educators and the public informed about pressing issues at schools and on campuses throughout the country. We tell the whole story, even when the details are inconvenient. Help us keep doing that.

    Join us today.


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