‘Hampshire’s Not Dead’: Here’s What It’s Like to Be in Its 13-Person Freshman Class

Paul Hayes, The Boston Globe

Devin Forgue knew coming to Hampshire College was a risk.

Having grown up just 20 minutes away from the campus, in Amherst, Mass., he was well aware of its financial crisis, its embattled leadership, and the bleak headlines warning it could be just months away from closing its doors for good.

The college practically asked the 19-year-old, as well as its other early-decision and deferred freshmen, not to attend, fearing that it couldn’t guarantee their graduation. But even with that in mind, Forgue was willing to take a chance on his dream school.

“I found that the possible experience that I might get at Hampshire outweighed pretty much everything that was on the news,” he said.

Forgue’s attendance carried another caveat: He would be one of just 13 freshmen enrolled at the liberal-arts college, which typically boasts classes of around 300.

“I thought, initially, ‘Wow, these kids are going to be really weird,’” he said. “Not in a bad way. But anybody who has decided to attend a college that is going through what Hampshire’s going through has to be driven in a very specific way.”

Hampshire has never been an ordinary institution. Its student-designed curriculum and experimental approaches to learning have long been magnets for nontraditional students, and have produced an all-star cast of alumni, including the filmmaker Ken Burns and the actor Lupita Nyong’o. But the student experience for the baker’s dozen who have chosen to take a chance on the college may be Hampshire’s most unconventional yet.

Unconventionality is what has always set Hampshire apart. But sustaining the model that makes the college unique has come at a hefty cost. With nearly 90 percent of its revenue coming from tuition and fees, Hampshire’s survival depends heavily on enrollment. Its $54-million endowment falls leagues behind its peer institutions, making its safety net practically nonexistent.

Hampshire’s micro class was born on February 1, when its board made a fateful decision: It wouldn’t enroll a full freshman class in the fall. The board viewed the decision as necessary. Others on the campus feared layoffs, interpreting the vote as the beginning of the end for Hampshire.

The college’s admissions counselors fielded constant calls from students whose admissions had been called off. Only 60 students, all of whom had been granted early admission or had deferred admission from the previous year, were allowed in. Thirteen of them decided to follow through.

“These are students who really, desperately wanted to come to Hampshire College, no matter what the risk to them,” said Hampshire’s new president, Ed Wingenbach, in an interview.

Marielle Glasse, one of the 13, was just about to leave for a three-month trip to Paris when she received word that Hampshire might not admit a freshman class. Having deferred a year to complete a project abroad, she hadn’t applied to any other colleges and said she began “stress writing” a college-application essay, just in case Hampshire canceled her admission.

But because she was on the list of deferred students, Glasse was offered a spot in the tiny freshman class. Though she initially had reservations about Hampshire’s financial predicament, she decided to take the plunge.

“The idea that Hampshire is trying to uphold its independent, alternative education where students get to take control of their education that doesn’t rely on an outside source for money,” she said. “Something this independent and self-sufficient — it’s really hard to do, especially when the rest of the world really isn’t onboard with this model of education.”

Glasse, who is focusing her studies on creative writing, was hooked on Hampshire’s student-led, project-based approach from her first campus visit. In high school, she said, she never felt her SAT scores reflected her abilities. But Hampshire, which doesn’t require standardized-test scores in applications, relies mostly on writing samples and recommendations in its admissions process, making it a comfortable fit for students like Glasse.

“When I’m in school, I always try to think outside the box,” Glasse said. “And I was always that kid who really tried to get hands-on projects done. But with the public-education system, it’s really hard to create an individualized education.”

Hampshire’s academic program is defined by three “divisions” that allow students to build upon and narrow their interests over their four years, mostly through project-based learning. While the college does offer “areas of study,” there are no set majors.

“When people ask, ‘What are you studying?’ or what your major is at Hampshire, the joke is that it’ll be a 20-minute answer,” Forgue said.

Forgue, who is studying international relations and anthropology, knew he was in for smaller class sizes at Hampshire. More intimate, discussion-heavy classes were part of the draw. He certainly wasn’t expecting to have only a dozen classmates.

But the class, Forgue said, is already a tight-knit group. Some of the students met informally last spring, when they heard about the enrollment problems unfolding at Hampshire.

“When the news came out that they might not be admitting a fall class, a lot of the early-decision students got together and wanted to have their voices be heard,” Forgue said. “So we collectively wrote a letter and sent it in, hoping it would help our voice be heard.”

In the months that followed the news of a potential merger and the significant enrollment reduction, Hampshire’s campus fell into chaos. During the longest sit-in in the college’s history, students occupied the president’s office for 75 days. By the time the smoke cleared, Hampshire’s president, Miriam E. Nelson, had abruptly resigned, and a third of the college’s board members quickly followed suit.

As the fall semester begins, Wingenbach and other administrators are working to develop a plan for long-term financial stability. An ambitious fund-raising campaign is underway to stabilize the college’s finances.

As students in this year’s freshman class began their first week of classes, they did so both with an acute awareness of the pain and uncertainty that defined last spring and with a sense of optimism in the college’s renewed direction. For Sean Song, a freshman in the game-design program, being a member of the 13-student class is a chance to prove a simple point: “Hampshire’s not dead.”

“At the moment, I think people have a wrong view of Hampshire’s current state,” Song said. “Because, to me, it was just giant mismanagement from the circle of staff in charge of Hampshire. And everyone had the interest of Hampshire in mind. However, they didn’t know where to take it.”

For now, things seem to be looking up at Hampshire. High-school students are already expressing interest in the college, which recently relaunched its applications through the Common App, according to the college. The goal is to restore full enrollment capacity within five years, and Wingenbach is confident the college can bring in close to 300 students next year. There’s just too strong of an interest in a place like Hampshire, he said.

Although there isn’t an application available for students to transfer to Hampshire for the spring semester, Wingenbach said, more than 140 students have already sought to transfer there.

“It shows you this groundswell of interest from a group of students for whom an experience like Hampshire can’t be replaced,” Wingenbach said. “They can’t get this anywhere else. And they really want to come here. And these 13 are just the extreme example of that.”

The college was, after all, founded as an experiment in liberal-arts education. For students like Glasse, that’s all part of what made it worth the risk.

“I was just really inspired,” Glasse said. “And I figured that if something happens, and I can’t finish my education here, I’ll know what it feels like to work for what I want. And then I’ll know what I want, and I’ll be able to chase it.”

Lauren Fisher is an editorial intern at The Chronicle. Follow her on Twitter @lauren__fisher, or email her at lfisher@chronicle.com.