Hot Listings: Dalhousie + King’s

The University of Florida it is not. 

My first impression of Nova Scotia’s Dalhousie University was shaped by caffeine - not advanced planning. On my first morning, I hoofed it from my hotel to their student union, desperately seeking a boost. Once sated with black coffee, I turned around and beheld the building’s vast center stairway - it was painted with the Progress Pride Flag. I had gone from liquid inspiration to actual inspiration in mere moments. 

In the year and change since America got turbulent again, people have increasingly had Canada on the brain - dreaming of a break from the division and rhetoric and bluster and hand wringing. And many parents and students, particularly in the East, at least want to know what the options are. 

And Dalhousie is an ace in that deck. Its academic reputation is strong, and buoyed by their membership in the U15 consortium of top Canadian research institutions. Their curriculum is expansive and rich, their faculty talented, their scholarship outstanding. Programs in engineering, architecture, health sciences, and marine biology attract particular acclaim. Computer science also looms large - and they have an impressive new research facility dedicated to cutting-edge work and innovation in that area. 

The vibe here is both scholarly and extroverted, and deeply collaborative. People are kind and balanced. The student body diversity is stunning. And though the community is relatively eclectic, students are generally quite socially aware. Much of the social life emanates from over 200 student-led societies - focused on everything from academic disciplines to social justice to the performing arts. There is a party scene, but it appears quite measured - and I wouldn’t call this a place to come if you are looking for your own version of Animal House. 

Despite the academic rigor, there is a chillness and humility and unlabored coolness that is refreshing - so very Canadian. It just pops: as I waited for my tour in the ultra-stylish Admission Office, the “classics” radio station thumped out Wannabe by the Spice Girls. 

It was a fitting entree to the rest of the day, as I would soon have the privilege of landing with two student guides who were also poppy and fabulous. 

Abby, from Montreal, effortlessly trotted me around the main campus while elucidating her deep interest in environmental epidemiology. She showcased the impressive physical footprint - including the ultra-mod DalPlex fitness center - and gave me the 411 on moving off campus. She also attested to the vitality and cohesion of the overall community, and noted how responsive the administration is to the needs of the students in its care. 

Jessica, from Ontario, gave me a two hour dunk at the engineering campus - filling me in on everything from co-ops to course sequencing to her involvement with Dal’s Solar Car Team. She also noted the incredible student support offered to undergrads, and that despite being a STEM powerhouse, Dal was a place where people uplifted each other and actively eschewed more typical competitive instincts. She further illustrated this by walking me through the Dalhousie Engineering Capstone Conference happening in the massive lobby of their IDEA Building. Hundreds of seniors excitedly talked about their required year-long group projects to their peers and professors (and me). Energy and brilliance for days. 

And much of it seems to be tethered to the common good. It’s a place for problem solvers, for sure. As one senior administrator put it to me: “This is a place for people who give a s***.” I totally see it. Dal was recently ranked as one of the top 100 universities in the world for progress toward the UN’s Sustainable Development Goals. 

The shape of the Dal experience is given further dimension by their sui generis neighbor: the University of King’s College. King’s is a closely associated university - and the two institutions enjoy a long standing and deeply intertwined relationship. 

King’s is essentially a small liberal arts college with about 800 undergraduate students. It has its own quad, its own housing. It’s as funky as the day is long. It’s scholarly, cerebral. Rebels and thinkers wanted. An intellectually rigorous, boutique experience. 

King’s is famed for their Foundation Year Program, which is a “great books” joyride for first-year students commencing with The Epic of Gilgamesh. Their bookstore is a real independent one that also serves the surrounding area, and is packed to the gills with workout gear for your brain (and classic rugby shirts). King’s is also home to one of Canada’s most venerable journalism programs, highlighting the inseparable relationship between critical thought and public expression. Their hottest social event of the year is Dante-themed - a three floor dorm party with a heaven, a hell, and a purgatory. On the whole: King’s is Canadian Reed. 

But truth be told, I struggled initially with how to pay proper homage to the connection between Dal and King’s. It is sort of a “best of both worlds” scenario; students at King’s can take classes at Dal, and vice versa. Many faculty teach at both, and there are for sure overlapping social worlds. Many facilities are shared. 

But let’s turn up the vibe with two stylish, lush allegories that I just couldn’t pick between: 

1.) King’s is the modish, lightly-tattooed aunt who lives in Williamsburg, works as a fundraising consultant, teaches free prenatal yoga classes, heavily favors wide-leg denim, and plays in a community badminton league in McCarren Park. She’s a well-read humanist, and the sage of the family. 

2.) King’s is the Best Supporting Actress who, despite being given less screen time, makes up for it with flawless delivery, a distinct point of view, and exceptional talent - thus elevating the whole film to masterpiece level. Paging Dianne Wiest. 

I think they're both apt. But however you put it, it’s a remarkable partnership - which equals a remarkably special opportunity for students. 

Now for the (happy) elephant in the room: Dal and King’s both benefit from a massive fiscal advantage versus many colleges in the US. When all is said and done, they cost just north of $40,000 (USD) per year for US citizens, depending on the division. Yes, I’m completely serious. As a reminder: Vanderbilt will soon cost $100,000 per year. So you could fly a private jet back and forth to Dal and eat Patrossian beluga for lunch every day and still come out way ahead. 

And lest we forget the surrounding roost: Halifax. Canada’s fastest growing city, and an emerging North American tech hub. Fun, cool, safe. Relatively affordable (compared to Boston and other coastal American hotspots). Global diversity everywhere. Incredible food. Totally walkable. Great art. And importantly: both Dal and King’s have enclosed campuses - so you get both city and community. 

And I find that it’s that community connection that a lot of young Americans are looking for right now - it indeed seems increasingly elusive for many. That intense but natural sense of belonging. Of being valued. Of being seen. Of being accepted. Of kindness. Of letting yourself be. Of letting other people be. 

I was at Dal and King’s for only four days, and even little old me felt that way. And it wasn’t just the super gay stairs - it’s what they told me; where they lead me. 

Dal and King’s feel like a rare and precious safe harbor - just north of the border, but totally within reach. 

Hot Listing: Elon University

For most of my life, my preconceived notions about North Carolina were more or less limited to chewing tobacco and Jesse Helms. 

And I’ve never had much use for either. I care deeply about dental hygiene and find homophobic bigots generally distasteful.

But Jesse is long dead and my teeth look great. So it was inevitable that this moment would find me: speeding west from Raleigh in the driver’s seat of an ice blue vintage Saab, Godmother in tow, on my way to visit Elon University.

Sure, several people from my high school attended college here. As a long haul counselor, I’ve delivered several fabulous kids to its doorstep. And its reputation is quite strong in the “industry.” But it had long stood as one of the few colleges I had never visited in person - the enigmatic haze of the rural South always vaguely clouding its place in my mind.

But here I am - finally, if not a tad begrudgingly. 

Though ultimately: shame on me. Because this place is fabulous.

Straight out of the gate, the visit experience is tight, impressive and well choreographed (one of the best I’ve ever had) - but also so full of genuine heart. The campus is as immaculate and gorgeous as the day is long - it’s actually a registered botanical garden. The sense of place on these grounds is acute, remarkable - almost fantastic.

And they gifted me a fabulous t-shirt that is really quite slimming - very GQ. Is James Perse making their merch?

If that wasn’t enough, here are three key reasons to love Elon (even more):

1. It’s a sensational value. Full cost of attendance here hovers at just under $67,000 per year. It’s a bargain these days (which is shocking, I know). At many similarly profiled private institutions, the price tag runs roughly $25,000 more per year, sometimes more. Mic drop.

2. It has one of the best Musical Theater programs in the country. What can I say? I’m a sucker for splashy production numbers and a bit of easily resolved drama. Elon grads have been populating key theatrical roles - particularly on Broadway - for many years, including in Dear Evan Hansen and Tina. I also think the strength of this program adds another vivid dimension to the institutional culture and helps support a particular diversity in the community at large. You know: the kind of people that will, sporting a cropped tank top, belt Flowers as they sprint down a primely located Fitness Center treadmill - and then glitter bomb your whole Comp. Lit seminar, just for the hell of it. Sorry, Jesse.

3. Elon is showing up for Jewish students. It was one of only two schools to recently earn a solid “A” on the Anti-Defamation League’s new Campus Antisemitism Report Card. The other was Brandeis. This feat is so very important right now - and one made all the more remarkable given its Bible Belt location.

I would be remiss if I didn’t take a hot moment to state the obvious: the academics here are outstanding. And in my opinion, pretty underrated nationally. When you go you will learn about their finely articulated commitment to critical thinking and experiential learning, and their uniquely impactful model for fostering faculty/student mentorship relationships. This last bit is worth its weight in gold. 

Accordingly, it's my sincere belief that the cultural center of this community is not the bravado or snobbishness that sometimes befalls selective colleges. Nor is it needless, exhausting academic competition (which is mishegoss anyway). 

It’s the people. And wonderful people, to boot. The enclosure of the campus and its relative isolation only makes those connections - those people - better, it would seem. And the community: much more of a tightly held embrace.

The folks I met here were eclectic, but all electric - extroverted, smart and really approachable. Not a whiff of pretension. Personality and openness and kindness must be in the water. Fun, random strangers smiled at me on paths and held doors for me in just about every building. My tour guide, Owen, was a popstar, and even the other people on the tour were saucy and connective and smart and stylish - they were people I’d be friends with.  

Speeding east on I-40, I accidentally cut off a guy in a huge F-150 with a Don't Tread on Me bumper sticker. Sorry, sir: I should have stayed in the right lane. But I was lost in thought: “had Elon been there the whole time?” Well yes, it had. So perhaps it was me. My own smallmindedness. My own rash judgment. Or perhaps, like most things and people: it’s only gotten better and more welcoming with age. 

So go see Elon. Because the moment has come to stop being afraid of the deep South. And I volunteer to go first.

Hot Listing: Clark University

I didn’t even go here, and yet, somehow: I always end up back here. 

My introduction to Clark University started rather young. I was born up the street, and my father was once a mover and shaker in this burg. His professional life connected him to Clark and its leaders - and while he did this or that in nearby offices, I eagerly toddled around this green in my favorite patchwork OshKosh overalls and Miss Piggy t-shirt.

Later, I went to packed college fairs in the gym and rolled my eyes as my classmates gratuitously fawned over various reps. Multiple people in my life wanted me to go to college here - but I vetoed that. I needed bigger - and considerably further from home. After all, what college student wants to bump into their dad while browsing Stop & Shop’s selection of cheap champagne on a Thursday morning? I definitely did not.

But rather ironically, I have spent much time worshiping at this altar in my subsequent life as a college counselor. I’ve visited Clark about seven times in the last dozen years. I’ve brought new staff here on kitschy field trips as part of their onboarding. I’ve sent some of the most wonderful young people I’ve ever met to college here. And I’ve had brilliant friends who have worked here.

So one frosty day last week, I swathed myself in two-ply cashmere, hopped in my Mini, and came back to Clark. To be honest, I was overcome by envy: many juniors and their families are venturing out for the first time into the world of campus visits. They are crucial to any college search. And endlessly fun.

Per usual, my time at Clark dazzled. First, a fabulous information session wIth top-shelf talent that compellingly telegraphed the school’s identity and ethos. Then came an equally fabulous tour with a hip, fun and particularly insightful Geography major named Maire (pronounced Mara). She had the 411 on everything from queer affinity groups to the required capstone project. Definitely a quintessential “Clarkie.” All totaled, my visit was a fabulous reminder of the unrivaled power of place - and of tactile, human experience - in the college search process. 

I could go on and on. But I won’t. Instead, I will, for the first time, use a listicle (rueful apologies to all of my Newhouse professors who are now likely to spit on me in public). 

Three big reasons to love Clark:

1. Killer academics. Many of my students have come back raving about the classroom experience and intellectual culture here - not to mention: they’ve all said how rigorous it is (I think one kid described it as an “ass kick,” but in the great, Barry’s Bootcamp way). Access to brilliant faculty is assured - connections that often parlay themselves into fruitful mentorship relationships and undergraduate research opportunities. And the research at Clark has always been phenomenal - the Pill was discovered here.

2. Civic impact. Worcester is a great city - with both opportunities and challenges. Clark has leaned into both. This is no haughty ivory tower. They’ve invested. They’ve connected. They’ve embraced. The students genuinely care about the community, and work heartily and purposely to enhance it. And it enhances them - and Clark - in return. 

3. It’s an incredible value. The yearly cost of attendance here is lower than many of its peer institutions - by as much as 20% per year. Over four years, that's a ton of money. They also have robust need-based financial aid, and some of the most generous merit-based scholarships in the business. They also pioneered a groundbreaking offering where you can opt to attend for a fifth year (very often with a full tuition scholarship) - and then you earn a Master’s Degree, too. I mean, hello? Is this thing on? 

And there are many more laudable qualities to celebrate.

But because I can’t help myself, I will give you one more. A bonus, because I like you. 

Here it is: I always leave my visits to Clark feeling genuinly excited by possibility. I feel happy. I feel full. It has a certain positive energy, a certain magic that just arrives organically. And it embraces you, elevates you, charges you, surprises you. Like when you are at Coachella and Beyonce brings Kelly and Michelle on stage for a hot blast of Lose My Breath. 

I think it's mostly because of the people I always seem to meet here. Kind. Good. Dynamic. Aware. Curious. Bright. Engaged. Unpretentious. Fun. Poppy. Interesting. Together. Capital P People. Great people to learn with, work with, be friends with. 

Great people to help you form your formative years. And I think you will find, as you go through life, that this is the best value of them all.