A premature snowfall a supersaturated
load of the white stuff from the north that topples trees and soaks ice-cold
through the most waterproof bootsblankets the campus. But when it comes
time for dinner, a dozen residents of Patterson dorm leave their boots
in the closet, put on their slippers, and go downstairs to a classroom
on the first floor where they find hot pizza, plain and pepperoni, awaiting
them. There they sit, chowing and chatting, until the School of Education's Michael Schwartz enters, a fine drizzle clinging
to his overcoat and a lot of good reasons on his mind why these freshmen
should consider majoring in education.
Schwartz is featured speaker for "Dinner With the Department"one
of several regular features of the new "Universe Through the University"
program for freshmen residing in this Southwest Residential Area lowrise.
What these first-year students sharebesides a dorm, camaraderie and enthusiasm
for College Pizza cuisine is the predicament of being undecided about a
major.
Historically, such indecision has spelled trouble for first-year students.
Studies show that those without a clear idea of why they are in college
have the least academic success, and are often the first to drop out. Add
to hazy academic goals the university's daunting size, and you have 1,000
undeclared freshmen a year feeling as tossed and aimless as leaves on an
autumn wind. As housing services director Michael Gilbert notes, "Students
leave because they never connect with the University at a personal level."
In hopes of retaining some of those who leave -last fall for instance,
22 percent of the previous year's freshmen did not return -the founders
of the "Universe Through the University" program have posited
that students who live together, study together, and wrestle together toward
a decision about majors may be more likely to find their niche before discouragement
sets in.
Schwartz helps himself to a slice and asks the students what they think
they might do with a degree in education. One young womanwho, as evidenced
by an empty basket and an economy bottle of Tide at her side, is clearly
making good use of her timesays she wants to be a high school guidance
counselor. An earnest-looking coed wants to know the difference between
a teacher and a professor. A young man in a Federal Express tee-shirt and
a nose-ring confesses the rather old- fashioned ambition to be an English
teacher.
Schwartz, himself once an English major who fell in love with teaching
as a Peace Corps volunteer in Africa, gently puts in a word for pragmatism,
pointing out that there are always more jobs for teachers of math, physics
and chemistry. Students leaving the talk have a lot more than pizza to
chew on.
The idea of creating a cohesive, comprehensive place for this population
of first-year students had been bandied about for years. Proponents knew
that launching such a program would require an elaborate choreography of
faculty, funds and physical resources like housing. Last spring, when Patterson
dorm in Southwest was slated for renovation, their chance came. Patterson,
recalls Michael Gilbert, is a promising site for fostering freshman bonds.
Compared with the towering highrises whose long shadows fell across it,
Patterson's four floors were highly desireable; incoming students consistently
express a desire to live in a more modestly-scale building.
Over the summer some $480,000 was put into revamping the entire building
and constructing a state-of-the-art computer lab on the first floor. A
drop-in center was located in the basement where students can go and talk
with advisor Karen Blumlein about everything from academics to personal
issues. (And do a load of laundry while they're at it.) Two required classes
are held in the dorm itself. One of them, "Twenty-First Century Challenges,"
is the program introducing different majors, bringing faculty like Schwartz
to the students. The other, "College Writing," hones writing,
note-taking, and time management skills. "These are the building blocks
of a successful college experience, an many students arrive on campus without
them," says "Patterson program" coordinator Carol Rogers.
This spring semester, students could choose coursework in fields such as
philosophy and comparative literature offere in classes of no more than
24 studentsclasses that "students elsewhere on campus would be struggling
mightily to get a seat in," says faculty advisor to the provost John
Cunningham.
In short, the Patterson program was designed to be a kind of one-stop-shopping
version of college life. As in other Residential Academic Program halls,
the concept was to give students "a safe home base to operate from,"
said Gilbert. "Once they have the confidence they're going to succeed,
then they can go out and explore the campus more and more."
Letters went out last spring offering beds in the shiny new dorm to students
who had been accepted, but had not yet declared majors. One of them was
Shaun Wilkinson of Salisbury, a long-limbed youth who was first in his
family to go to college directly from high school. Having briefly entertained
the idea of art school, Wilkinson decided to come to UMass on the strength
of the Patterson program: "I liked the idea that the floor would be
all freshmen, and that they would be in the same predicament as me,"
he says. As it turned out, the program wasn't enough to provide the academic
focus this student needed. After a semester on campus, Wilkinson decided
to transfer to UMass Lowell, closer to home.
"It will be interesting to see what the actual retention rate is,"
says sophomore Dan Stiefel of Lowell, who lives on the second floor of
Patterson as an "academic program assistant"a role-model, sounding
board, and academic mentor to thirty freshmen often stressed about getting
it all done. Stiefel is a student of a more focused breed, a BIOTAP student
whose passion is genetics and who envisions a future in business or medicine.
But he sees living with "people who are on the same wavelength"
as the main ingredient in collegiate success, and that is what the Patterson
program provides. "I see the Patterson students talking about their
schedules and classes together in the halls," says Stiefel. "And
I don't think that kind of interaction is going to come to a halt at the
end of the year."
Set up as a pilot program, the "Universe Through the University"
will ultimately be assessed by taking an honest look at the percentage
of participants who declare majors and remain at the university. An essay-writing
exercise required of the students last September will be repeated this
spring, in an effort to gauge the payoff on the program's investment in
crucial academic skills.
The goal is not just to keep students at UMass for the sake of keeping
them, says John Cunningham. Queried at the beginning of the year, 77 percent
of the undeclared freshmen said they were sure they'd get a college degree,
but only 32 percent were certain they'd get it at here.
For a university committed to access as well as excellence, that's enough.
"You don't want retention only, you want appropriate retention,"
said Cunningham in January, looking west from his Whitmore office over
the snowbound playing fields. "You want to truly know the students
and their chances for success on this campus."
-Ali Crolius
