| Page 2 of 2 < |
The Coed Conundrum
Andrea Phillips of New York, an alumna of Randolph-Macon Woman's College in Lynchburg, lies inside a chalk outline in protest of trustees' vote to begin admitting men. Trustees want to increase enrollment and stop dipping into the endowment.
(By Chet White -- News And Advance Via Associated Press)
Discussion Policy
Comments that include profanity or personal attacks or other inappropriate comments or material will be removed from the site. Additionally, entries that are unsigned or contain "signatures" by someone other than the actual author will be removed. Finally, we will take steps to block users who violate any of our posting standards, terms of use or privacy policies or any other policies governing this site. Please review the full rules governing commentaries and discussions. You are fully responsible for the content that you post.
|
But Peter Sheldon, chairman of Randolph-Macon's physics department who worked on a committee that spent three years planning the school's future, said all of the women's colleges that the panel looked at -- other than those in the very top tier -- were underenrolled at the undergraduate level. Many were dependent on large financial aid packages used as incentives for students, especially Randolph-Macon, which he said had one of the highest tuition discounts in the country. And experts were saying that interest would continue to drop.
Lennon points to a recent national study that concluded that students gained more from their experience at women's colleges than those at coed schools and were more engaged.
And yet, national studies show that fewer than one in three women will consider an all-women school. Some think that they sound socially limiting; some don't see a need for them.
"For women's institutions, going coed is a matter of economic survival," said Sheldon Steinbach, general counsel of the American Council on Education.
That's what Hood College in Frederick concluded in 2002. Hood was losing students and spending its endowment at an alarming rate. This fall, it has 278 freshmen, a record-large class for the second fall in a row; before the switch to coed, it had 109.
All the finances, all the marketing, all the data pointed to one thing, Randolph-Macon's Sheldon said.
Finally, a member of the steering committee voiced it at a meeting in Washington, asking each person at the table one by one whether going coed was the only option. Everyone said yes, Sheldon said. Almost everyone started crying. They stood up and hugged.
They announced that the trustees would vote in September.
"I feel like my parents got divorced, and I'm 3 years old not knowing what to do," sophomore Audrey Hudgins said.
Alumnae swarmed the campus, marching with parasols to invoke the school's 115-year history. The decision came so quickly, many said. One group got a lawyer. People demanded answers about why a school with a $140 million endowment should be forced into such a wrenching choice. Others asked about conflicts of interest on the board as they learned that the school was considering selling assets such as the art collection and vowed to stop donating.
Interim President Ginger Worden said that officials have been open about the decision-making process and that any suggestion of financial improprieties is baseless.
Some students boycotted classes, campus jobs and the dining halls. They filled faculty parking spaces with their cars, some lettered "No boys allowed." And nearly 200 among the 700 students have filled out paperwork to transfer.
An admissions officer said that she has seen a huge surge of interest from both men and women at recruitment events. Some students, such as sophomore Amanda Weller, think it is time to change, and hundreds have chosen not to protest.
But hundreds of others met, some dragging air mattresses out to the lawn in front of Main Hall on a recent night, and talked about why going coed felt like such a betrayal. "We choose college based on the environment we want to live in, what's important to us," 19-year-old Mikaela Sheldt said. "We're looking for a place to start our lives."
She'll transfer, she said; they have lost her trust. "I feel like I don't have a home anymore."
It's nice to be at a place where you can concentrate on looking smart, not looking cute, Hudgins said; many said they like rolling into class in sweats and not feeling self-conscious about the questions they ask.
Hudgins said that all of the traditions that make Randolph-Macon such a close-knit, supportive, caring place will disappear. "What guy's going to make a daisy chain?" she asked. Or paint the post for the even-odd [school class] rivalry, or sing the school songs, or exchange gifts during ring week?
By the end of the week, the number of protesters was dwindling. About 4 a.m. one day, Worden, the interim president, awoke to realize that students were outside the president's house, serenading her with Randolph-Macon Woman's College songs.
She slipped outside and, although they were mad, they made space for her in the line, and they all sang together.








