Stigma to Community College

Stigma is Due to Failure, Not Success.

(And what to do about it.)

Two lifetimes ago, right out of high school, I moved out of my parents’ house and enrolled in a tier-two state university but I did not have the maturity and other characteristics to succeed. The same thing happened the next semester when I gave it less than the old college try at my local community college, which was just a few miles down the road from my parents’ house (which I moved back in to). At no point did I think community college was a step down. I simply enrolled because of proximity. I could walk, ride my bike, or take the bus if I was feeling particularly lazy.  

I knew coming out of high school I had no skills any employers were looking for. Growing up I religiously watched the Wild, Wild West and Batman and so I had always wanted a career in federal law enforcement or national security. I started to fill out applications for the Secret Service, only to stop when I got to the part when they wanted to know what my Bachelor’s degree was in and where I was awarded that degree.

And so, I turned to the Army for a myriad of reasons, one being that I was able to get a job in military intelligence and another being that part of the GI Bill that would help pay for college. 11 years after failing two different types of higher education I returned to that same community college.

Now, the University of Washington was a 20-minute bus ride across the Evergreen Point Floating bridge and a bus pass was included with the tuition. But even closer was the community college. Ultimately, I wanted to earn a BA in History from the University of Washington then go on to earn a Master’s degree in something yet to be determined. I was playing with the idea of medieval history.

I was not a math major but I did realize that if I went to the community college first and then tried to gain entrance to the UW as a Junior, I would have a more difficult time gaining entry then if I tried to start as a freshman. I was not sure how many students were admitted as Freshmen, but I knew that the number admitted as Juniors were dependent on the number of those first and second year students who dropped out. So, if the university had room for 5,000 Freshmen but only 1,000 dropped by year three, the school would only admit 1,000 as Juniors. Therefore, I would have a better chance of being accepted into the state’s flagship, tier one research institution by trying to gain admittance as a Freshman.

On the other hand, the finances were limited. The GI Bill I was under was not as generous as earlier or current GI Bills when it came to education. Furthermore, I seriously questioned my ability to succeed. I was 0-2. Granted that was 11 years earlier, but still I asked myself if I had what it took to succeed and if I did not, I wanted to discover that as inexpensively as possible, thus I elected to enroll in the community college.

I never felt that I was doing myself a disservice. That I was somehow cheating myself out of two years of a flagship experience. Those ideas never crossed my mind. What did cross my mind was the messy, financially and emotionally draining divorce I was going through. That community college had counselors. That’s what they called them Counselors. They were actually psychologists. The college had psychologists available for students. Talk about a benefit that I needed. Between my experiences in the Army and the divorce, I needed help. I guess most students were squared away emotionally because I was able to see the psychologist twice a week, every week.

Then on a whim I ran for a position on the student government. I was unsuccessful, but the person who did become the president hired me to be the student liaison to Olympia -the state capital, on issues pertaining to community colleges. So once a week I drove to Olympia where I met with state representatives and discussed legislation that was in the pipeline as well as the needs of community college students.

This was during the Clinton administration and so the Pell Grant and Work-Study were both well-funded. I got a job working for the head of the theater department, designing sets and learning about lighting and working a sound board. I even wrote a one-man play about the first hour I realized I was going through a divorce.

I never had any doubts about the quality of the instructors. Never wondered if they had “only” a master’s degree. Their lectures were captivating. They were interesting story tellers. No multimedia. No PowerPoint with embedded video. Just well-told stories. I did not have to take any math classes and I only had to take one science and one English class. Every other class was a History class. How that happened is a story for another time. I developed close friendships with several faculty members. I was 29 after all. 

First class was 7AM, and once cases were over (I think by 11), there was the Work-Study, clubs, organizations, trips to Olympia and those visits to the counselors. So much to do. Such a vibrant campus! Nothing about my community experience said second rate, the high school with ash trays, or the 13th grade. 

Not only did I succeed, I excelled. I finished my AA in just one calendar year and I was successful in being admitted into the state’s tier one research institution as a Junior. You know what’s interesting? Nobody ever asked me “Where did you graduate from high school?” or “Did you go to a community college before coming here?” That stuff was not important.

Nowhere on my schedule did it say “former community college student.” We were not segregated in the government documents room of Suzzallo Library, or a special section at Husky Stadium or at Starbucks. I never had a professor ask about my academic past. At the community college I took three types of anthropology classes with a wonderful professor. One day at the University of Washington I ran into him, because he was teaching there as well and that’s when I was introduced to this thing called “adjuncts.” I think that’s the real stigma in higher education, but that’s a different essay.

I hung out with fellow veterans at my community college. One went to law school, another history major went to medical school, and one got a degree in plasma physics. I do not know what that is.

I would not trade my time at the community college for the university. The time to obtain my AA provided me to with so much opportunity for growth in so many aspects of my life. Opportunities that just did not exist at the University of Washington with a student population of 75,000.  

I do not see, hear, smell, taste, or feel a stigma about going to community college. Of course, I could be deaf and blind to the trolls because I chose to become part of the system that educates the vast majority of Americans (and quite a bit of international students, too)!

I knew I wanted to teach, but I was unsure as to which level. But shortly after I began attending that community college, meeting up with other veterans for coffee before our 7am classes, with all of the enrichment programs, personal assistance programs, and wealth of success stories I heard from the faculty, I decided that I wanted to teach at a community college. I am exactly where I wanted to be because I attended a community college.

I think any stigma associated with community colleges is not in completion, in having that degree on your cv along with the other degrees, certifications, and accomplishments. I think the stigma is because so many students do not succeed and thus community colleges get branded as institutions that are unsuccessful in their mission of educating people. I think that people do not realize that community colleges are open enrollment institutions, and they do not realize that many state universities are also open enrollment. We are low hanging fruit. And so, the stigma is not on the successful students, such as myself now but on myself in 1982. Community colleges are the dumping ground for the ill prepared to succeed (me in 1982) is maybe the perception? Is that the stigma?

If so, then I would invite you to attend a graduation ceremony in May and then a few years later when they graduate with their BA and BS degrees.

The bar is low to gain admittance into an open enrollment institution: does the check clear? If so, you’re in! But the passion, excitement, and tenacity that I experienced as a student at my community college in 1994-1995 are the same as I see among my colleagues today. Some major differences are that we have a better understanding of content delivery, learning and assessment.

So, how do we tackle the stigma of the community college student who fails? We need to address the reasons for failure, which are many to include a lack of soft skills (maturity, dedication, perseverance, resiliency and grit), a lack of proper nutrition, the ability to pay for the insanely rising cost of books. We cannot say that a percentage of students simply lack the intellectual abilities to succeed in college. 

Life is too complex for the single villain theory. Rather we need to address the holistic reasons for failure. Double the Pell Grant. Bring back Work-Study for everyone. Ensure that students have the choice of taking OER classes over for-profit book classes. Open up food pantries, or even better open a cafeteria that serves at least one hot square to every student each day. A sliding scale day care so more people can afford to attend college. There is much we can do to address the stigma that people do not have what it takes to succeed at community colleges and maybe that community colleges are not doing enough to meet the needs of their unique student populations.

Justice Louis Brandeis said something like “Sunlight is said to be the best disinfectant.” In other words, let’s identify why these stigmas exist, then tackle them in a public and aggressive manner until the realization exists that community colleges are your most bang for your buck, you’ll get more personalized and individualized care and attention, and those community college professors are just as accomplished as those at your local university.

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it!