Small College America – Transylvania University

October 4, 2026, by Dean Hoke: In 1775, Daniel Boone helped open the Wilderness Road through the Cumberland Gap. Settlers followed that route into Kentucky, where Indigenous peoples had lived, traveled, and hunted for generations. The westward movement brought both new communities and dispossession. Among the newcomers’ ambitions was something that might seem improbable in a place still far from the nation’s established centers of learning: a college.

Five years later, in 1780, while the American Revolution was still being fought, Virginia’s legislature chartered Transylvania Seminary with Governor Thomas Jefferson’s support. Kentucky was still part of Virginia, the United States Constitution was seven years away, and yet here, west of the Allegheny Mountains, an institution of higher learning had been set in motion.

Today, Transylvania University enrolls 937 students on a downtown Lexington campus. It is among the oldest institutions of higher education in the country and one of the smallest universities to possess such a remarkable national history. That contrast makes Transylvania a particularly revealing subject for Small College America. Its past explains why the university matters historically; its teaching, students, and financial choices will determine what it means in the years ahead.

Transylvania’s History: The First College West of the Alleghenies

Classes began in 1785 near Danville in the home of Presbyterian minister David Rice. The school moved to Lexington in 1789, a settlement becoming a center of commerce and culture in the Bluegrass. In 1799, a new charter established Transylvania University. By the early nineteenth century, Lexington would be called the “Athens of the West,” and Transylvania helped give that nickname substance.

Under President Horace Holley, who arrived in 1818, the university assembled a formidable faculty and became known for its scientific instruction and professional education. Its medical and law schools trained the professionals a rapidly expanding nation needed. The medical department, which closed in 1859, educated thousands of students; institutional histories place the total at 4,385. Henry Clay taught law and served as a trustee. Transylvania was no provincial afterthought. It was a serious educational center in a region that much of the older country still regarded as frontier.

The Civil War disrupted that world. Collegiate instruction faltered, and Old Morrison, the Greek Revival landmark at the center of campus, served as a military hospital. In 1865, Transylvania merged with Kentucky University, formerly based in Harrodsburg, and used the Kentucky University name until restoring Transylvania in 1908. The complicated history of its departments also intersects with the origins of the modern University of Kentucky.

Over time, the institution abandoned the scale and professional ambitions of its nineteenth-century predecessor. What remained was a residential liberal arts university committed to undergraduate education. Transylvania’s history is not one of uninterrupted expansion; it is a history of reinvention. That pattern remains relevant as the university approaches its 250th anniversary in 2030.

Enrollment: A Kentucky University with National Ambitions

Transylvania’s enrollment tells a story of persistence rather than dramatic growth. In 1983, when Charles Shearer became president, the university enrolled approximately 655 students. Enrollment rose past 1,000 during the 1980s and reached roughly 1,150 in 2008. During the past decade, however, its student population has generally stayed close to 1,000. The historical series below shows 963 students in 2016, 1,022 in 2023, and 979 in 2025. Transylvania reports 937 students for fall 2026, a decline from the recent high.

The geography of recruitment is as revealing as the numbers. About 78 percent of students come from Kentucky; 22 percent are from other states, and international students make up less than one percent. Transylvania is a historic national institution whose contemporary student market is predominantly regional. For many Kentucky families, its appeal is precisely that it offers a small, residential private education within reach of home. But the limited geographic reach also narrows the recruiting pool at a time when competition for students is intense.

Transylvania’s strategic ambitions are larger than its current enrollment. An earlier plan envisioned 1,500 students. The Transylvania 2030 plan aims for at least 1,200 full-time students, including possible graduate enrollment. Today, the university remains principally an undergraduate institution. Its challenge is not to recover an imagined era of continuous growth, but to determine what combination of undergraduate recruitment and carefully chosen new offerings can sustain the education it wants to provide.

William T. Young: Rebuilding a University Through Scholarships

No modern benefactor shaped Transylvania more decisively than William T. Young. A Lexington entrepreneur and University of Kentucky graduate, Young built the Big Top peanut butter business that later became associated with Jif. He was also a prominent horse breeder and philanthropist. Although he never attended Transylvania, he served as a trustee beginning in the 1960s and eventually chaired its board for more than two decades.

Young believed a small college could compete for exceptional students if it offered an exceptional opportunity. In 1982—before Shearer became president—the first ten W. T. Young Scholars arrived with scholarships covering tuition, room, board, and a stipend. The program subsequently became central to the university’s recruitment strategy under Shearer. More than 800 students have benefited from it over four decades. The idea was straightforward: recruit outstanding students to a small university by removing the financial barrier for those selected on merit.

The Young legacy gained fresh importance in May 2026, when Transylvania announced the largest gift commitment in its history: $10 million from an anonymous donor. Of that amount, $9 million was committed to the Young Scholars endowment, with another $1 million available as a match dependent on gifts from former Young Scholars. The announcement tied an initiative born during the enrollment difficulties of the early 1980s directly to Transylvania’s ambitions for its next generation.

Young’s approach was not limited to scholarships. He believed attracting capable students required equally capable teachers. That conviction led to an investment that may be Transylvania’s clearest contemporary academic distinction.

The Bingham Fund: Making Undergraduate Teaching a Priority

In 1987, William T. Young joined Mary and Barry Bingham Sr. to establish a $5 million fund devoted to teaching excellence. That original commitment has become one of Transylvania’s defining academic resources. The separately governed Bingham Fund reports investing more than $30 million in teaching and faculty development since its founding. Its Form 990 reporting identifies $130.6 million in net assets as of June 2024. The fund’s central purpose is to sustain exceptional undergraduate teaching across generations.

The program is more than an annual teaching prize. It supports faculty growth, recognizes excellent instruction, and subjects teaching to review by educators from outside Transylvania. A $25 million commitment over fifteen years supports up to twelve Bingham Endowed Chairs for Teaching Excellence. Eight had been named by 2026. Each receives an additional $25,000 annually during a five-year appointment.

The range of disciplines is important. Among the chairs are biologist James Wagner, philosopher Peter Fosl, artist Kurt Gohde, historian Frank Russell, Chinese-language scholar Qian Gao, biologist Paul Duffin, political scientist Michael Cairo and psychologist Bethany Jurs. The program treats excellence in biology, the humanities, the arts and social sciences as equally central to the university’s mission. Cairo, for example, uses Socratic dialogue to challenge students to analyze international affairs rather than memorize simple answers. The selection committee’s external review gives that teaching philosophy practical institutional weight.

This is where Transylvania differs from colleges whose main academic selling point is simply small classes. Its 11-to-1 student–faculty ratio and average class size of fifteen are attractive, but not rare among selective liberal arts institutions. A dedicated teaching endowment, built over nearly forty years and used to reward and develop faculty across disciplines, is a more specific statement about institutional priorities. It does not guarantee that every class is exceptional. It does explain what Transylvania has chosen to invest in—and why.

Academics: Learning in Lexington and Beyond

Transylvania offers a broad undergraduate liberal arts curriculum, including biology, business, psychology, the humanities, and preprofessional preparation for medicine, law, and other fields. Its proximity to the University of Kentucky creates opportunities for academic pathways and professional connections without requiring Transylvania to operate a large graduate school of its own. For students considering health professions, the combination of close faculty advising and access to a major university and medical community can be valuable.

One of its most recognizable curricular features is May Term. After two conventional fourteen-week terms, students focus intensively on a single course, often taking learning into the city or farther afield. It is not Colorado College’s year-round Block Plan, but it offers a concentrated period for work that would be harder to arrange within a conventional semester.

In May 2026, accounting students visited Lexington’s local-government chambers to understand how public budgets are assembled. Students studying Kentucky history worked with archival records and helped preserve gravestones while exploring how communities remember their past. A sports facilities course took students behind the scenes of Lexington Legends Stadium and Cincinnati’s Great American Ball Park. Those experiences show the value of a university situated within a working city: government, public history, commerce and professional sports can become extensions of the classroom.

The university’s record also offers outcomes beyond anecdotes. Transylvania reports that 48.7 percent of its 2022 graduates entered graduate study within two years, following 48.3 percent for the 2021 class and 42.0 percent for the 2020 class. Its education graduates achieved a reported 100 percent Praxis pass rate in 2022, 2023, and 2024. Those results suggest meaningful preparation for further study and professional qualification, although outcomes differ by major and career path. The university also reports that 95 percent of graduates are employed or enrolled in graduate school within six months, a figure best read alongside its defined reporting methodology.

Transylvania’s downtown Lexington location broadens those opportunities. In a metropolitan area of approximately 344,000 people, hospitals, businesses, government offices, and nonprofit organizations offer settings for internships, service, and applied learning. What emerges is not a single signature major comparable to Spelman’s nationally visible STEM pipeline, but a teaching-centered model that connects a small undergraduate community to experiences beyond the classroom.

Student Success

Graduation rates offer a useful check on the promise of personal attention. Transylvania reports six-year graduation rates of 69.0 percent for the 2016 entering cohort, 70.4 percent for 2017 and 71.5 percent for 2018. It is nearing Transylvania’s own 75 percent goal. Among Pell-eligible students, six-year completion increased from 58.7 percent for the 2016 cohort to 64.2 percent for 2017 and 64.7 percent for 2018.

Four-year completion has been more challenging. The 2018, 2019, and 2020 entering cohorts posted rates of 56.6, 48.3, and 55.0 percent, all below Transylvania’s institutionally adopted 65 percent threshold. Transylvania attributes some delayed graduations to its Pioneer Plus pandemic-era program, which allowed affected students to return for a fifth year. The institution has responded with academic support initiatives, including Jumpstart, additional course-based learning support and a Pell Guarantee covering tuition and fees for eligible Kentucky students. The question now is whether those interventions produce sustained improvement.

Affordability and Access: Beyond the Published Price

For 2026–27, Transylvania lists tuition and fees of $50,640 and food and housing of $15,010, bringing direct charges to $65,650. Its estimated full cost of attendance, including books, transportation, and other expenses, approaches $70,000. That price places the university in direct competition with private colleges nationwide, even though its principal recruiting market is Kentucky.

Yet published tuition is only part of the picture. Transylvania reports that 99 percent of students receive financial aid. Merit awards such as the Young Scholars scholarships can transform the economics for selected students, while the Pell Guarantee targets eligible lower-income Kentuckians. These programs serve different purposes: one rewards exceptional achievement, while the other seeks to remove financial barriers for students with demonstrated need.

Net price, student borrowing, and graduation outcomes provide a clearer measure of access than the published price alone.

Athletics: An Important Enrollment Driver

Athletics plays a prominent role at Transylvania. The university sponsors 26 NCAA Division III intercollegiate teams, and student-athletes have represented nearly half its enrollment. At a university with fewer than 1,000 students, athletics influences recruitment, campus life, and institutional identity. The women’s basketball team brought national attention to Transylvania in 2023, completing a perfect 33–0 season with the NCAA Division III national championship, the first in university history. Athletics also attracts students who want to combine competitive sports with a liberal arts education.

Alumni: An Extraordinary Historical Reach

For an institution of its current size, Transylvania has an extraordinary alumni history. Its former students include two U.S. vice presidents, Richard Mentor Johnson and John C. Breckinridge, and two Supreme Court justices, Samuel Freeman Miller and John Marshall Harlan. Harlan’s dissent in Plessy v. Ferguson became an enduring argument against the constitutional acceptance of racial segregation. Stephen F. Austin played a central role in Anglo-American settlement in Texas; Cassius Marcellus Clay became an abolitionist and diplomat.

Those names also expose the contradictions of American history. Breckinridge later joined the Confederacy, while Harlan’s dissent challenged a legal order built on segregation. Jefferson Davis attended Transylvania before transferring to West Point and later becoming president of the Confederacy. He was not a Transylvania graduate. Henry Clay was associated with the university as a law teacher and trustee, not as an alumnus. The university’s influence extended into competing visions of the nation, not a single political or moral tradition.

More recent graduates have made their marks in business, media, and community life. Lance Tucker, class of 1991, became chief executive of Jack in the Box in 2025. Matt Jones, class of 2000, founded Kentucky Sports Radio and built a substantial audience around Kentucky athletics and public affairs. Actor and performer Ned Beatty attended Transylvania, although he did not complete a degree there. These figures illustrate a modern alumni network whose reach is different from that of nineteenth-century political leaders but remains visible in Kentucky and beyond.

The 100 Doors to Success mentoring program adds a practical, present-day dimension to the alumni story by connecting graduates with students seeking advice, professional exposure, and opportunities. For a small college, the personal accessibility of alumni may matter as much to students as the fame of a handful of names.

Financial Resources and the Question of Sustainable Scale

Transylvania has invested significantly in its campus over the past decade. Dalton-Voigt residence hall opened in 2015; Bassett and Pioneer halls followed in 2017. The William T. Young Campus Center, completed in 2021, added contemporary spaces for dining, wellness, and student activity. Those investments improve the residential experience, but they also reinforce the need to fill residence halls and support fixed operating costs with a relatively small enrollment base.

Philanthropy has helped Transylvania sustain an educational model that would be difficult to support from tuition alone. The university’s Form 990 for the year ended June 30, 2025 reports $157.4 million in endowment funds, up from $130.2 million four years earlier, despite a decline in fiscal 2022. The filing describes approximately 550 individual endowment funds supporting scholarships, academic programs, and enrichment. It also reports that just 4.4 percent of the endowment was board-designated or quasi-endowment, with the balance classified as permanent or term endowment. These resources provide long-term support but are not interchangeable with cash available for day-to-day expenses.

The Bingham Fund illustrates both Transylvania’s strength and the need to distinguish its resources carefully. It files a separate federal tax return, yet the university’s Schedule D reconciles consolidated audited financial statements by removing Bingham Fund activity from the university-only Form 990. Its assets should therefore not be added mechanically to university endowment figures. The university reported $216.8 million in net assets and $57.8 million in liabilities at June 30, 2025; these figures, like its endowment balance, describe financial position rather than an operating surplus.

Transylvania’s strategic plan calls for greater enrollment and investment resources as the university approaches its 250th anniversary. For its next president, the question is how to translate a substantial but largely purpose-restricted capital base into reliable scholarship support, strong teaching and a sustainable operating model. The university’s financial history gives it advantages many similarly sized colleges lack; enrollment and recurring tuition revenue will determine how effectively it can use them.

Transylvania 2030: The Next Leadership Test

President Brien Lewis took office in July 2020, just as the pandemic unsettled higher education. He has announced plans to depart in summer 2027, placing the university on the threshold of another leadership transition before its 250th anniversary. Board leadership includes Christopher Young, continuing a family association that has influenced Transylvania for generations.

The Transylvania 2030 strategy raises consequential questions. Can a university with 937 students reach a target of 1,200 full-time students, including potential graduate students, without weakening the personal academic experience it prizes? Can it broaden recruitment beyond Kentucky while remaining accessible to Kentucky families? And can it translate its unusually well-funded teaching commitment into student outcomes that distinguish it from other liberal arts colleges?

Those decisions will shape the next reinvention of a university that has already survived more than two centuries of change.

Beyond the Brochure: Pumpkins, a Naturalist and a Curse

Each autumn, hundreds of carved pumpkins glow on the steps of Old Morrison during PumpkinMania, a tradition launched in 2011. Families from Lexington join students and alumni in a setting where nineteenth-century architecture becomes a stage for a distinctly contemporary celebration. It is hard to imagine a more photogenic reminder that Transylvania belongs to its city.

The campus has an even stranger story. Constantine Samuel Rafinesque, a brilliant and famously quarrelsome naturalist, taught at Transylvania in the early nineteenth century. After an unhappy departure, stories circulated that he had cursed the institution. People believed his remains were brought back to Old Morrison in 1924, and questions about the bones only added to the mystery. Today the university embraces the eccentricity: its mascot, Raf, is a bat. Between a supposed curse, a naturalist’s tomb and a sea of Halloween pumpkins, Transylvania has more than enough material for an unforgettable campus tour.

Why Is Transylvania University Important?

Transylvania challenges the familiar geography of American higher education. A college emerged west of the Alleghenies before Kentucky became a state and before the United States adopted its Constitution. It educated physicians, lawyers, and political figures whose influence extended across a growing and divided nation. That history alone makes it worthy of attention.

But the more important question for small-college leaders is what Transylvania represents today. William T. Young and the Bingham family helped make undergraduate teaching an enduring philanthropic priority. The Bingham Fund, faculty chairs, and hands-on learning opportunities show how an institution can invest deliberately in the educational experience it wants to be known for. The university also illustrates the limitations of relying on reputation alone: respectable graduation rates coexist with gaps in completion, and generous philanthropic resources coexist with enrollment ambitions not yet realized.

The lesson is not that every small college needs a fund as large as Bingham’s, or a history stretching back to the Revolution. It is that an institution’s distinctive promise must be more than a slogan. It must be visible in faculty work, student opportunities, measurable results, and decisions about the future. Nearly 250 years after its founders imagined a college beyond the mountains, Transylvania faces another frontier: demonstrating why its intimate version of higher education remains compelling for the next generation.

Dean Hoke is Executive Producer and co-host of Small College America and Managing Partner of Edu Alliance Group, a higher education consulting firm based in Bloomington, Indiana, and Abu Dhabi, United Arab Emirates. He formerly served as President/CEO of the American Association of University Administrators (AAUA) and has worked with colleges and universities in the United States and internationally throughout his career.

Dean is also a Senior Fellow at the Sagamore Institute in Indianapolis, where his research focuses on the economic and social impact of small colleges in rural communities. He is a co-author, with Chet Haskell and Barry Ryan, of the forthcoming book Small Colleges at the Crossroads: Strategic Paths to Growth, Partnership, Merger, or Responsible Closure, scheduled for publication in Fall 2026.

Hope Is Not a Strategy: What’s Actually Working for Small Colleges

Editor’s Note By Dean Hoke: This winter, Small College America completed its most ambitious season yet—13 conversations with presidents, consultants, and association leaders who are navigating the most turbulent period in higher education history. What emerged wasn’t theory or wishful thinking. It was a working playbook of what’s actually succeeding on the ground. This article synthesizes the five insights that matter most.

When Hope Meets Reality

Jeff Selingo doesn’t mince words.

“Hope is not a strategy,” he said bluntly in Season 3 of Small College America.

Jeff Selingo, a Best Selling Author and higher education advisor, named what every small college leader knows but hates to admit: the old playbook is dead. The demographic cliff isn’t coming—it’s here. Traditional enrollment models are broken. And no amount of wishful thinking about “riding out the storm” will change that.

But here’s what surprised me across 13 conversations this season: nobody was sugarcoating reality, yet the conversations weren’t depressing.

They were energizing.

From Frank Shushok describing how Roanoke College built a K-12 lab school that creates a pipeline from kindergarten forward, to Teresa Parrott explaining why Grinnell took over a failing daycare center instead of issuing a mission statement about community engagement, from Gary Daynes doubling down on Salem College’s women’s mission when conventional wisdom said to go co-ed, to Kristen Soares navigating 2,500 California bills every legislative session—Season 3 captured something rare.

Leaders who have moved past denial and into action.

What emerged wasn’t abstract strategy consulting. It was concrete, operational intelligence from people doing the work. Here are the five insights that separate institutions that will thrive from those that won’t.

1. Stop Marketing, Start Building Pipelines

The traditional enrollment model—recruit high school seniors, get them to visit campus, send them glossy viewbooks, hope they choose you over 47 other colleges—is dead. Small colleges know this. But most are still acting like better marketing will solve it.

It won’t.

As Selingo pointed out, “At some point you have to come up with another segment of students if you’re tuition dependent because there just aren’t enough of those students to go around.”

Translation: You cannot market your way out of a demographic crisis.

The institutions seeing results aren’t the ones with slicker viewbooks or better social media strategies. They’re the ones building actual infrastructure for new student populations.

What does that look like in practice?

At Roanoke College, President Frank Shushok has approached enrollment not as a marketing problem, but as a pipeline design problem.

Roanoke’s lab school creates a K–12 pathway while simultaneously solving a community need. Students who attend the lab school encounter the college early, come to trust it, and see it as part of their educational journey long before senior year. That’s not recruitment—that’s ecosystem building.

The same logic shows up in Roanoke’s employer partnerships. The T-Mite Scholars program flips the traditional internship model: students complete two internships, receive a guaranteed job interview upon graduation, and receive tuition support from the employer. That’s not workforce development with a side of enrollment. That’s workforce development with enrollment as the byproduct.

This pipeline mindset also appears at scale in California, as described by Kristen Soares, President of the Association of Independent California Colleges and Universities. California’s Associate Degree for Transfer (ADT) program creates guaranteed, transparent pathways from community colleges into four-year institutions—no credit games, no hidden requirements, no “we’ll evaluate your transcript and get back to you.” Just clear bridges that actually work for the students who need them most.

Notice what these examples have in common: they aren’t marketing campaigns. They are operational partnerships designed to reduce friction and create consistent flows of students.

As Shushok observed, “I think what you’re starting to see is some incredibly creative, adaptive, and agile institutions—because it requires a level of courage and resilience and tenacity.”

The bottom line is straightforward: if your enrollment strategy is still primarily marketing-driven, you’re playing the wrong game. Build infrastructure. Create pipelines. Solve real community problems.
The students will follow.

2. Is Your Mission Statement Hurting You

Teresa Parrott, Principal TVP Communications dropped what might be the most important insight of the entire season: small colleges need to shift “from mission to impact.”

What she means matters right now.

Most small college websites lead with mission statements like “We develop well-rounded citizens who think critically and serve their communities.”

It’s lovely. It’s inspiring to people who already work at the college. And it’s entirely unpersuasive to everyone else.

Legislators don’t care about your mission. Prospective students’ parents don’t care about your mission. Community members wondering why they should support you don’t care about your mission.

They care about what you actually do.

Compare generic mission language to Grinnell College’s approach. When their town’s daycare center was failing, Grinnell didn’t release a statement about their commitment to the community. They took over the daycare center. When the community golf course struggled, they stepped in to sustain it.

As Parrott put it, “They are so embedded in their community that they really are almost a second arm of the government.”

That’s not rhetoric. That’s concrete, documentable community impact.

Or take Gary Daynes, President of Salem College insight about resource sharing at Salem: “It makes zero cents to build a football field. Seems like you could share with the local high school.”

Simple. Obvious. Rarely done.

But when colleges actually do it—by sharing theaters, athletic facilities, cultural resources, and programming—they become infrastructure their communities can’t imagine losing. They become politically and economically essential.

The shift is this: Stop leading with what you believe. Start leading with what you do.

Not “We believe in service.” Try “We trained 45% of the nurses in this region.”

Not “We value community.” Try “We operate the only daycare center in town.”

Not “We develop leaders.” Try “Our graduates run 23 local businesses and employ 400 people.”

The institutions sufficiently community-embedded to make these claims are politically protected. The ones still leading with inspirational language become vulnerable the moment budgets get tight.

The takeaway: Your communications team shouldn’t be writing mission statements. They should be documenting measurable community impact and leading with it everywhere.

3. Lean Into What Makes You Different

Selingo said it most directly: “There is more differentiation in higher education than we care to admit, but the presidents haven’t leaned into that enough.”

Translation: You’re already different. You’re just afraid to say it loudly.

Daynes decided to reaffirm its commitment to educating girls and women. That’s not chasing the market—it’s the opposite. But Daynes explained they looked at their data and realized the women’s college identity was a strength, not a liability they needed to downplay.

Faith-based institutions are deepening their religious identities rather than treating them as mere historical affiliations that make the college vaguely Methodist or nominally Catholic.

Health-focused campuses are building employer pipelines instead of trying to be liberal arts generalists who happen to have a nursing program.

The pattern is clear: institutions trying to be less distinctive are struggling. Institutions doubling down on what makes them unique are finding traction.

But here’s the critical part Daynes emphasized: distinctiveness has to be operational, not just marketing.

If you’re a “community-engaged college,” you need actual programs embedded in the community—shared facilities, pipeline programs, workforce partnerships—not just a tagline on your website.

If you’re “career-focused,” you need employer partnerships with real job placement data and students who can point to specific outcomes.

If you’re faith-based, that identity needs to shape curriculum, student life, residential programs, and institutional decisions in ways students and families can see and experience.

When distinctiveness is only branding, students and families see through it immediately. When it’s operational, it becomes your competitive advantage.

The takeaway: Generic positioning is a slow death. Find what makes you genuinely different, operationalize it across your institution, and communicate it relentlessly.

4. Real Partnerships vs. Press Releases

Shushok nailed the mindset shift small colleges need to make: “Partnerships are everything in this moment. And once you get past that you’re competing with any of these entities, you start to realize, no, these are partners.”

K-12 schools. Community colleges. Employers. Local governments. Hospitals. These aren’t competitors or nice-to-haves anymore. They’re essential infrastructure for institutional survival.

But Daynes offered the crucial warning: “It’s easy to sign MOUs. It’s harder to sustain them.”

Read that again.

Translation: Your partnership announcements don’t mean anything.

What matters is actual student flow. What matters is shared staffing. What matters is programs that operate year after year, not photo ops at signing ceremonies where everyone shakes hands and nobody follows through.

Ask yourself right now: Do you know how many students transferred in from your community college “partners” last year? Do you have dedicated staff managing those relationships, or is it an extra duty for someone already overwhelmed?

If you don’t know those numbers or don’t have dedicated staff, you don’t have partnerships. You have press releases.

The partnerships that work have dedicated staffing to manage relationships and smooth student transitions, clear metrics measuring student flow rather than signed agreements, operational integration where partner institutions actually share resources, and financial skin in the game from all parties.

Roanoke’s “Directed Tech” program with Virginia Tech counts the senior year as both undergraduate completion and the first year of a master’s degree. That’s not a partnership; that’s structural integration that changes the economics and value proposition for students.

California’s ecosystem, where UC, CSU, community colleges, and independent institutions work together on workforce development, isn’t an inspirational collaboration story. It’s an economic necessity backed by 2,500+ pieces of legislation every two years, as Soares noted.

When the state is writing hundreds of bills requiring coordination, you can’t fake it with a handshake and a press release.

The bottom line: Count your partnerships that produce actual student flow and resource sharing. If that number is zero or close to it, stop announcing new partnerships and start making the ones you have actually work.

5. Liberal Arts is Workforce Development (Stop Being Defensive About It)

The false choice between liberal arts and workforce preparation came up in nearly every conversation. And every single guest rejected it.

Shushok’s framing was the clearest: “Technical skills get you the first job. Human capacity skills enable 15 career reinventions.”

Think about that.

In a world where AI can write code, analyze data, generate reports, and automate technical tasks, what becomes more valuable—technical skills that become obsolete in five years, or the ability to adapt, think critically, communicate clearly, work across differences, and solve novel problems?

As Shushok put it, “We might find that the liberal arts, the humanities, the small colleges, if we allow ourselves to be shaped by this moment, are exactly what the doctor ordered for the 21st century.”

The problem: small colleges are still communicating defensively about the liberal arts instead of offensively.

Stop saying “The liberal arts are ALSO important for careers.”

Start saying, “The liberal arts are the ONLY preparation for a 40-year career in an unpredictable economy.”

Stop apologizing for not being pre-professional.

Start explaining why pre-professional education is increasingly obsolete in an age of AI and constant technological disruption.

And most importantly: build the bridges so students can actually see the connection.

That means boards that understand finance, politics, and operations—not just fundraising. CFO leadership that addresses structural challenges honestly. Political engagement that mobilizes entire institutions, not just government relations staff. And communications teams that function as impact documenters, not mission statement writers.

Kristen Soares noted that 92% of California’s clinical workforce is trained at private colleges. That’s not despite the liberal arts foundation—it’s because of it.

Nurses need critical thinking to make life-and-death decisions in ambiguous situations.

Mental health counselors need empathy and adaptability to serve diverse communities.

Teachers need communication skills and the ability to think on their feet.

The liberal arts aren’t tangential to workforce needs. They’re central. But you have to stop defending them and start operationalizing the connection in ways students, families, and employers can see.

The takeaway: The liberal arts are perfectly suited for workforce needs. Stop defending. Start operationalizing. Build the bridges.

So what do you actually DO with all this?

Season 3 didn’t just surface problems—it revealed a working playbook. Here’s what leaders who are successfully navigating this moment have in common:

  • They’re building infrastructure for new student populations instead.
  • They’re documenting measurable community impact and leading with it.
  • They’re deepening what makes them genuinely distinctive.
  • They’re measuring student flow and resource sharing.
  • They’re operationalizing the connection to careers.

Shushok’s insight about “recalibration versus balance” might be the most critical leadership lesson of the season. As he put it, “Balance is not a destination, but constant recalibration.”

Small college leadership today isn’t about finding the right strategy and executing it for five years. It’s about continuous adjustment based on what’s actually working.

That means:

• Boards that understand finance, politics, and operations—not just fundraising

• CFO leadership that addresses structural challenges honestly

• Political engagement that mobilizes entire institutions, not just government relations staff

• Communications teams that function as impact documenters, not mission statement writers

As Daynes reflected, “I love small colleges. There are folks of intense gifts amongst the faculty and staff who have chosen to be the places that they are.”

That’s the source of optimism throughout Season 3.

Not naive hope that things will get better on their own.

But grounded confidence in devoted people willing to do hard, creative work.

Jeff Selingo’s blunt assessment—”Hope is not a strategy”—wasn’t meant to demoralize. It was meant to liberate.

Small colleges that thrive in the next decade will  be the ones that:

• Build operational infrastructure for new student populations

• Document and communicate measurable community impact

• Operationalize distinctiveness throughout the institution

• Create partnerships that produce actual student flow

• Connect liberal arts to career outcomes without defensiveness

• Recalibrate constantly based on what’s working

The leaders in Season 3 aren’t waiting for permission or hoping for a miracle. They’re building lab schools. They’re taking over daycare centers. They’re sharing facilities with high schools. They’re creating guaranteed pathways to graduate programs. They’re documenting their impact and leading with it.

They’re doing the work.

And they’re proving that hope—real, grounded hope based on action rather than wishful thinking—comes from building things that work.

Looking Forward: Three Conversations to Start This Week

If you’re a president, provost, trustee, or senior leader, here are three conversations you can start right now if you haven’t already done so :

1. With your enrollment team: Ask them to map every actual pipeline you have for new students—not marketing campaigns, but structural pathways that produce consistent student flow. If the list is short or non-existent, that’s your answer. Start building infrastructure, not marketing plans.

2. With your communications team: Ask them to document your measurable community impact in the last 12 months. Not what you believe or aspire to do—what you actually did. How many jobs did you create? How many nurses did you train? What facilities do you share? What problems did you solve? If the answer is vague or mission-statement-heavy, you have work to do.

3. With your board: Present them with a simple question: “If we could only communicate three things about our institution to prospective students, legislators, and community members, what would they be?” If the answers are about mission and values rather than concrete impact and distinctive programs, you need to shift the conversation.

These aren’t theoretical exercises. They’re diagnostic tools that reveal whether your institution is still operating from the old playbook or building the new one.

Selingo was right: hope is not a strategy. But action, infrastructure, partnerships, impact, and constant recalibration is a playbook that works.

—

Season 3 of Small College America featured conversations with 13 leaders in the field of higher education. Thanks to everyone who participated, and especially my co-host Kent Barnds and my Producer and lovely wife Nancy Hoke.

  • Raj Bellani, Chief of Staff, Denison College
  • Gary Daynes, President, Salem College
  • Josh Hibbard, Vice President of Enrollment Management, Whitworth University
  • Dean McCurdy, President, Colby Sawyer College
  • Jon Nichols, Faculty member and author
  • Teresa Parrott, Principal TVP Communications
  • Karen Petersen, President, Hendrix College
  • Michael Scarlett, Professor of Education, Augustana College
  • Jeff Selingo, Best Selling Author and higher education advisor
  • Frank Shushok, President, Roanoke College
  • Kristen Soares, President, Association of Independent California Colleges and Universities
  • Gregor Thuswaldner, Provost, La Roche University
  • Jeremiah Williams, Professor of Physics, Wittenberg University

The conversations continue.

Small College America returns in February with a new season featuring candid discussions with presidents, faculty, and leaders navigating the most consequential moment in higher education.

Hosted by Dean Hoke and Kent Barnds, the series explores the evolving role of small colleges, their impact on communities, and the strategies leaders are using to adapt and endure.

Listen or watch past episodes on Apple, Spotify, YouTube, and many others, or preview what’s coming next, and follow the series at www.smallcollegeamerica.net.