The Reviews Are Mixed As College's Drama Wraps

President's Exit Prompts Anger, Relief

WILLIAMSBURG -- Of course it ended with a bang. Gene R. Nichol's abrupt resignation as president of the College of William and Mary last week was the dramatic end of a dramatic tenure, one marked by change and controversies, by idealism and skepticism, by fights over sex and religion and money.

On this historic campus, where magnolia trees drop shiny leaves on the worn brick paths, many say it was inevitable. The school, they say, got caught in the tug of war in a changing Virginia, the same cultural battles playing out in the General Assembly and in the Republican presidential primary last week.

Some say Nichol's departure came down to something much simpler: wrong guy for the job. Leading a university is a complex and demanding role, one that requires academic leadership, political savvy, fundraising skills, the ability to juggle numerous constituencies, financial know-how and a thick skin.

Whether he was forced out by wealthy donors, conservative alumni, politicians or his performance, one thing is certain: The campus has been changed by his presence. Nichol, who had been dean of the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill School of Law and ran in the Colorado Democratic primary for U.S. Senate, is known for his charisma, his eloquence, his fierce commitment to free speech -- and his ability to polarize.

Nichol e-mailed a long letter to the campus Tuesday, writing that the rector had told him his three-year contract would not be renewed this summer and that "serving the college in the wake of such a decision is beyond my imagining." He resigned, effective immediately. And he said the board offered him money if he would agree to say that ideology was not the reason for his departure, an offer he refused as censorship.

Nichol's opponents, including some alumni, Republican state delegates and conservative activists, were relieved: In their view, the small public liberal arts school had been saved from a loose cannon pushing his liberal agenda and tearing down cherished traditions.

The school became an embarrassment, said senior Joe Luppino-Esposito, with the controversies Nichol caused overshadowing its strong academic reputation. The way Nichol resigned was typical, he said: putting his own agenda ahead of the good of the school by bolting mid-semester, sending out a bitter message and implying that the offer of a transition package was an attempt to buy silence.

Nichol's equally passionate supporters, including many students and faculty members, canceled classes and slipped homemade valentines under his door. He was a visionary leader, many said, pushing a recalcitrant Southern school into the future. He had worked to make the school more welcoming to people of all races, more affordable for low-income families, more fiercely protective of academic freedom.

"Students love him," said senior Trevor Albert, who had climbed a tree to look out over the hundreds, perhaps a thousand or more, students who crowded around Nichol's house Tuesday night to show support. "He opens up a lot of possibilities for students, opportunities for us to express ourselves."

Board members will come to Williamsburg this week to talk to the campus community. Rector Michael Powell, interim president W. Taylor Reveley III (who went to work Tuesday morning as the law school dean) and the provost all reaffirmed the school's commitment to increasing racial and economic diversity, internationalization, and civic engagement.

Nichol's energy, vision and ability to connect with faculty and students are among the best he has seen, Powell said. But it was as an executive that Nichol fell short, Powell said; despite evaluations and suggestions for improvement over many months, he simply didn't manage the institution as effectively as the board had hoped.

And once the controversies started, they didn't stop.