A few days before winter recess, a student approached Kevin Quigley, president of Marlboro College, with a compelling idea: Rather than continuing to maintain 17 miles of campus hiking and ski trails, why not create a two-and-a-half-mile Nordic ski trail that could accommodate events for high-school and college students? By grooming a smaller portion of its trail system (backcountry skiers could still use ungroomed portions), the tiny college in the verdant hills of southern Vermont could save both money and fossil fuels, the student argued.
The president loved the idea, and the campus community voted to approve it. If all goes well, the new trail should be complete in time for this year’s ski season.
In this special report, we look at diversity through a somewhat novel lens — that of geography. Our coverage examines how a college’s location affects its mission, its ability to recruit students and faculty members, and its campus culture.
A lot of colleges talk up shared governance, but nobody does it like Marlboro, where everyone on campus — from the janitor to the president — can propose changes and vote on them at weekly town meetings. At Marlboro, students are full citizens of the campus community, sitting on committees that evaluate instructors, draft admissions policies, and develop curricula. They even chair the Selectboard, which sets the agenda for town meetings.
Quigley calls the consensus-style governance a “powerful magnet” for the college’s 200 students, who hail from 34 states.
“I can’t imagine a lot of places where a single student could pop by the president’s office with an idea and make it happen,” he says.
The ability to affect change is a large part of what persuaded Quigley himself to trade Bangkok for Marlboro three years ago. A former director of the Peace Corps in Thailand, he saw Marlboro as a place where he could make a difference.
Marlboro, which like many other small colleges in New England has struggled with sagging enrollment, is in the process of “reimagining” its future. Last year it faced a structural deficit of $4 million on a $15-million budget, which it covered through a combination of drawing upon its endowment and record fund raising. But Quigley is optimistic that the latest challenge, too, will pass.
“These enrollment and related financial challenges have been very much part of our 70-year history,” he says. “I do strongly believe that these challenges create an opportunity for major, needed change.”
Another draw for both Quigley and prospective students? The college’s bucolic setting. Marlboro College, built in the 1940s on the footprint of three farms, sits high on a hill, surrounded by woods once traveled by Robert Frost, the college’s first trustee. Many of the buildings — including the main classroom building and those housing the dining hall, admissions, and administration — are converted farm structures.
“It’s a place that resonates with these iconic images that are very fertile in the American imagination — the clearing in the woods and the hilltop setting,” says Quigley. “Both are rich metaphors for the establishment of a community, particularly a learning community.”
That sense of community can be seen the classroom, where the student-faculty ratio is 5:1, and students enjoy close, collegial relationships with professors, Quigley says.
Still, rural Vermont is not for everyone. GPS is unreliable here, and cellphone reception is spotty — though it’s improved a bit since the college installed a small antenna atop the library. The nearest Starbucks is across the state line, in New Hampshire.
The road to campus is paved, but it turns into dirt and gravel a little past the dining hall. And the winters can be brutally cold. When Quigley arrived in Brattleboro for his interview three years ago, the temperature was minus 13 degrees. On his second day on campus, officials offered him two options for getting to a meeting with his predecessor: snowshoes or skis. Quigley, who hadn’t been on skis for more than a decade, chose the snowshoes.
Students who visit Marlboro know right away whether it’s the right place for them Quigley says. For some, it’s just too remote. But for those seeking natural beauty, outdoor recreation, and a close-knit, collaborative community, he says, “it’s often love at first sight.”
