Franklin and Marshall College

Date: May 16 2004
Major: Undecided (This Major's Salary over time)
There are tons of mixed feelings about this school, and it's important to recognize context and who's stating these views. You may find that many of mine are not applicable to you, or that some widely-held views by others are lacking in focus.

Okay, to start with…

Franklin & Marshall itself:

F&M's a work in progress. I'd put it that it's striving to make the jump from "good to great", and not having an easy time at that. It's a daunting job, really. I do remember reading documents asserting that the school's financial progress stank in comparison with that of its peer institutions, and as a result of non-growth it lost a lot of ground. In more specific terms, the school really goes wanting for a strong giving-alumni rate; its endowment has been, I believe, officially dubbed as "unacceptable" for a school of its calibre and is now one of the prime objectives in the College's new plan. What's wrong with F&M's alumni, then? Nothing, really; they all seem to lead good lives and many are grateful to the academic formation they've received. That's not to say, though, that they're following in the footsteps of Ross Perot; although the College certainly has spawned millionaires, they've been, I gather, few and far in between. The graduates are more than capable of providing a great life for their families, but don't have those spare greenbacks to hoist an entire tertiary institution on their backs.

What accounts for this financial slip-up, then? Word has it that the College had a long line of academically superlative Presidents with inadequate business sense. Academics, in their best form, are romantics who would never stoop to treating a small liberal arts college merely as a lifeless, money-pumping business. The other side of the coin, of course, is that their idealistic vision fails to fully take material form for lack of riches or a national reputation. The good news is that the college has taken a revolutionary step by appointing an MBA (rather than a PhD) to the presidency. Jonathan Fry, former Vice-Provost (I'm not sure, it's been a while since I read the biopics) to UPenn, has wasted no time in formulating a comprehensive and ambitious plan to revamp the school, preserving what it does well and face-lifting its blemishes. More specifically, he plans on raising its solid but modest regional reputation to a national level, to improving the Faculty:Student ratio, aggressively pursue funding and beefing up the endowment, improving town-gown relations via commmunity service and raising the standards of the Admissions office. There's a more complete mission statement somewhere on the school's website, available for download (refer to the "White Paper"). He began in '02, and the first serious changes should be readily noticeable by '06 or so.

Okay, so you've seen the money. Now, what is it spent on? Without a doubt, the College's greatest asset is its faculty. Their list of credentials is impressive, and from some conversations with them, they're more than happy with their compensation and their professional prestige. US News clocks F&M in the mid-30's for liberal arts colleges (oscillating between 33 and 38), but the quality of its faculty is more like top 15. The faculty themselves have but a few gripes, though these are certainly telling: a disappointing student body, and a prejudice held from large research institutions that professors at small LAC's are incapable of research, only of teaching. These, unfortunately, pan out in ways that I for one find regrettable: many professors are out to prove that they're researchers (actually, that's not fair; many of them genuinely love their field and are making serious contributions—read their books, they're worth it), but without facilities like those found at the UC's or the Ivies, their work isn't the kind broadcasted on CNN. This isn't necessarily a bad thing, though; genuine scholars have more respect for academic journals than mainstream media, and F&M profs certainly are regular contributors to such publications. The problem with this is that a student can sometimes feel cheated out of the hackneyed

teachers first and foremost

moniker that so many LAC's adopt, and that it's being sacrificed for something not so great (you don't hear of people bringing home stories of Nobel laureates, Fulbrights, MacArthur's etc). Nevertheless, one does feel a certain swell of a pride at seeing your professor's name on a bookshelf in Barnes & Noble, knowing that this very professor is willing to sit down and talk to you about perhaps anything and everything. Some go too far and tell you things you don't really want to know (a 50 year old's sex life, for instance), but those are isolated cases and I'm sure there's a lonely crook on every school's payroll.

The only real and noteworthy stain on an otherwise excellent professorate is that they do seem to adapt their teaching styles to the kind of students they have. This might seem to be a good move as a matter of principle, but in practice it's just a big waste of resources. You have this (insert any top-notch university—Harvard, Swarthmore, Berkeley, Oxford etc) educated professor, in a class that rarely exceeds 25 students, but feels compelled to read off lecture notes rather than engage in a discussion because the students have evidenced time and again that they're drones who would rather copy into their notebooks than participate in discourse. Or, even worse, the professor's scandalously discouraged from attempting to run a discussion after hearing what sorts of nonsense certain students (often Pre-Law, loquacious yet inarticulate) love to hear themselves spew. As a result, you end up wondering what you're doing there; the professor knows your name (which only translates into more efficient attendance records—yes, they do take attendance) but apart from that, there's no real contact unless you resort to Office hours (which usually only host the

so where are you from?

10 minute chats). On the other hand, when a professor does brave an in-class discussion, it comes across as forced, due to the frequent long spells of silence from the students.

Alright, so what's the deal with the students? They really are the stinker (from an institutional viewpoint) of the school; sure, there are certain retarded administrative policies, but more often than not they've been prompted by commensurate and repeated idiocies from the students. Here are two typical student profiles. The Public High School student: Top 8-15% of their class, just below the students who get into Penn or Tufts; 1200-1280 on their SATs (usually low 600's on both rather than a 700+ & 500+), a sparing number of AP's or Honors courses (rarely scoring 5's), and a few activities. Earnest, hard-working kids who deserve a place in college, but didn't cut it for more reknowned institutions. They spend much of their time resigned to making the most out of their experience here (which is admirable), and a significant portion of the remainder on trying to overcome their insecurities by comparing themselves with other students, reminiscing over past high school glories, or griping about the SATs (which are all kind of low) . Then there's the Private School student: attended an elite private school and graduated without a shred of distinction; was accepted by mere virtue of their preparatory school. There are two smaller student archetypes that deserve mention. The "I'm-the-first-person-in-my-family-with-college-potential" type and then there's the "I-got-into-Brown-but-I'm-dirt-poor" type (many of whom are international, and almost all are here on the Marshall scholarship). A large percentage of the students are athletes (DIII, except for wrestling), but despite it being DIII, most varsity teams are certainly not open to all (a moderately criticized and, from what I've been told from other schools, a highly atypical practice). Students here are generally somewhat sociable and average-looking; the dating scene is kaput. Social life hinges heavily on the Greek system, and judging from their behaviour, most students have never drank before college. One can't help but getting the sense that most students here tried but failed to be popular in high school—and are trying to do it again in college, having found others just like them. They've come to a suburban LAC because they're afraid of the city, of the real world, and wish to postpone it by immersing themselves in a High School-like environment for just a little while longer. There's a strong divorce between the two aspects of students' lives: school and fun. It's as if though the students have adopted the premises that "school is work, I do it for my degree, and can never be fun" and that fun "is beer, I must make a big effort at partying hard, and because school is not fun, to have fun, it must be as different from school as possible".

The student body also sports some pretty poor demographics; 2% Hispanic, 3% African American, 3% Asian American. The 6% international student population is misleading; they're almost all entirely from the Asian sub-continent, Turkey or Bulgaria. In my class, there was only ONE student from mainland China. Remember too that these figures are applied to a student body that stands at around 1850; 2% of that is what, 36? 9 students per class? Ouch.

Okay, so that's enough about the school itself…

If you've noticed, the above includes little of my personal experience, which is to follow now. If it's been too much to read, I understand…

I'm an international student, and I read earlier on that someone wrote that most int'l students here speak noticeably non-native/fluent English. This is indeed true, and it came as a surprise to me; in my experience prior to F&M, US-bound internationals spoke perfect English; I've met only a handful here apart from myself who easily pass as Americans. Don't be misled, though; the English spoken by the int'ls is fine, just heavily accented. It takes a while to get used to, but they're actually a huge asset to the school. Actually, the few people I've met with comparable testing results to my own (1400+, high AP's etc—as I said, they come up in conversation) were invariably the int'ls. I mention this not because I think these figures are of particular importance; merely because I thought (until getting here) that they were a rite of passage into college.

I must add that I'm not continuing at the College; I'm dropping out, and I'll ply my luck elsewhere, somehow. A huge factor of undeniable importance in my decision is no fault of F&M's, but rather, it's just the entire East Coast: too cold, gloomy, rainy and lifeless. What can I say—I'm a hotblooded creature and after making that initial mistake, I know what I need. This, however, might not be a problem for you at all. The fact that people here get erections or wobble their knees at the prospect of beer might not bother you either; who knows, maybe you've been deprived of alcohol too. But for those of us from Europe (and some parts of Asia), alcohol's commonplace, and certainly no big deal. It's something to do, but it doesn't govern our self-worth (well, Mediterraneans are rightfully proud of their red wine, but I think you'd agree that that's different…). Again, this might not be your case.

I've been disappointed with the campus. It's not that it's ugly (it isn't) or run-down; it's that the layout exacerbates the school's flaws. The administrative and academic buildings are separated and distanced from the residence halls (of utterly average quality), which makes the barrier between social/residential life and academic endeavour all the more insurmountable. The walk to class is uncomfortable and feels like a rat race; everyone walks in file along one path towards class and then comes back. One of President Fry's goals is to alter this circumstance (refer to Locust Walk at Upenn).

I've read that some praise the Co-Ed dorms and what not. Sure, this is great, and absolutely standard pratice—this isn't a trait particular to F&M, but rather, what one expects out of college. Trust me—in my effort to find life beyond F&M, I've spent many a weekend chilling at other colleges.

The City of Lancaster, by the way, is no college town at all. Formerly ranked as one of the safest cities in the nation, the fastest-growing populace in the commonwealth of Pennsylvania has picked up a slum or two, makes students feel unsafe at night, and is the unnamed protagonist of local-yet-famous band Live's "Shit Town" song, written for and about Lancaster.

Alright, why did I leave? It doesn't sound like I hate the school, right? I don't, not at all. But I certainly hated my experience here. Although I met many a caring and excellent professor, I was unable to ignore the traumatic experience of being talked down to and summarily disrespected by a few of the bad apples. That some of them have since been fired was not a consolation to me. I came to college as a young adult (well, okay, I was 17, not 18, but you get the idea), a receptacle and vessel for information and progress, and at the very least I was expecting to be treated and spoken to in function of my discourse, not of my status as a lowly undergraduate (wait, aren't all of us undergraduates?). I've found that instead I was talked AT with lulling, benevolent and patronizing babyshit. The rhetoric is that kids are the future; if high schoolers are still dismissed for being minors, the same shouldn't be said of college students. The thing is, maybe it was just me. But I just found this disappointment to difficult to ignore. Following suit, I underwent an unmistakably negative transformation; having always been known as lively, passionate, enterprising and colorful, I withered into a quiet, despondent, disengaged hollow King Log who spent too much time mindlessly getting in shape, and, in the words of a friend of mine, was

becoming quite uncreative

Upon leaving F&M, my mood and spirits immediately soared, and I've been trying to get in touch with who I used to be, before the vortex of sloppy looseness here disfigured me.

Okay, that sounds weird. Put another way: I was under the impression that if tomorrow an exposion blotted the entire campus off the map, nothing would be missed, no future leaders, artists, thinkers or great services would be deprived from the world. That didn't make me feel too good about my existence and sense of purpose (which I had in reasonable supply when I enrolled in '02). The conviction that I would graduate as a less interesting and capable person than the freshman who entered was proof enough for me that I had to leave. And I had to drop-out; transferring out is is tremendously difficult—nobody's interested in helping you bring your plans to fruition. Students will literally stop talking to you if they know you wish to transfer ("what, this place isn't good enough for you? You think you're better than us?" is what the mutter under their breath) and professors hold you in a different light, not necessarily a good one. I've already mentioned my discombobulation, so as you can infer, my dreams of transferring went down the drain. I'll find something, though. The College also dashed the hopes of a friend of mine (a scholarship/deans-list student) by inexplicably not getting his paperwork done on time, and then nonchalantly notifying him that "the deadline has passed". Honestly, you expect guidance counsellors to screw up in some 1%-attends-college-rate highschool in ghetto LA or Northern Philadelphia, but not in a conservative LAC with a 40,000 and rising yearly price tag. I don't know, I was seriously underwhelmed. Plenty of other students felt the same way, but felt no hope to even try to remedy their situation. In time, I grew to feel their same sense of futility. Or is it just, as I said, underwhelmed?

My parting words of advice (before asking you to reconsider whether or not you want a small LAC—I believe a large university that offers more independence is generally, though not categorically, a better choice):

If you wish to be a distinguished star amongst this mediocrity and take advantage of proximity to fantastic PhD's who are more than eager to encourage an inquisitive undergraduate (provided that they're hardworking, first and foremost), you should seriously consider F&M. I know many a bright student here who has admitted that they enjoy being a big fish in a small pond, which affords them the opportunity to develop their leadership skills and build in confidence. The paucity of competition can certainly be a good thing; after all, it is (rather, the lack of male testosterone) the main basis behind empowerment at women's colleges (and we know what sort of success Wellesley indoctrinates). However, if being a less distinguished member of a more distinguished population is more important to you (and provided you're looking for an East Coast LAC), I'd seriously recommend you look at Haverford or Vassar. They are much closer to embodying that lightly aforementioned dream of what a small, liberal arts college should be. F&M is taking steps to get there, and I believe (and hope) it eventually will.

The thing is, I just couldn't wait.