Hot Listing: Hobart and William Smith

There is a place on the New York Thruway - vaguely east of Utica - where I always say to myself: “I should have just flown here.” 

On this particular journey, it strikes as expected. I whine with the hyperbolic impatience of the faux put-upon. I finally shrug it off, but narrowly avert a speeding ticket by pumping my brakes in the left lane like the unstable driver’s ed instructor from high school. I rediscover my peace by singing along to Beat Up Chanel$ for the twentieth consecutive time - and I just keep driving. 

Those who know me would surely attest to the fact that I will pretty much do anything - including a deeply boring slog - to visit a fabulous college. And at long last, I’ve finally made it to this one: Hobart and William Smith.

One of the things I sometimes say to people is: “Will you please just shut up and at least look at a small liberal arts college? It could be a fabulous fit.” I’ve been to many (I always take my own advice) - but this one is distinctly special. 

My first full day revealed this with haste. The campus is the stuff of legend - stunning, well kept, and across the street from one of the most beautiful of the storied Finger Lakes. The pace of life at HWS is one built around humane ease, warmth, tactileness, inclusivity. The student population is much more diverse and far less preppy than the stock image in my mind had led me to believe. 

I was gifted a warm reception and rigorous agenda packed with HWS gliterrati.

My main campus tour guide, a senior named Max, shuttled me around like a kindly boss - and at the end of our ambling conversation, I asked him to summarize his time at HWS in one short sentence. His response: “It’s all about community.”

And I heard this all day long - from everywhere, from everyone. The notion that the experience of learning, of being, of expanding, is one that thrives through rich relationships and interpersonal connections. And “life-altering experiences.” Through exposure to the new and the novel and the important. Through the intentional cultivation of dimension, of breadth - and of shared growth. Eavesdropping on an early-morning dance course peopled by a shocking number of athlete types, I heard the professor exult over African drum beats: “Remember, this is the last time you are going to dance with these people, so really make this moment last.”   

One of the most insightful and profound things I heard, however, was from a long-time dean and faculty member (she teaches Russian), who said one of the (many) reasons she chose to spend her life at HWS is because it’s an institution that is really good at helping students see “how very smart they are.” I then basically asked if I could move into the office next door and wash my cashmere sweaters with baby shampoo in the kitchenette.

About midway through my day I realized that many of the people here were “lifers,” or were expecting to be. Meaning, they had worked - or intended to work - at HWS forever. In an age when people are fleeing higher education (and education in general) like a burning building, that says something. 

Part of it is just magic, but part of it is leadership. Everyone I talked to praised President Mark Gearan, who actually left HWS at one point, and then boomeranged back a few years later. He also used to run the Peace Corps. He is known for unusual kindness and approachability, and for being a total mensch - he hosts weekly Friday evening gatherings at his house for the community to relax and engage and connect. But lest you think that warmth equals messiness - guess again. This place obviously runs like butter.  

As an uber impressive VP told me: “HWS gives a little bit of cult energy.” Agree. But in a good way, obviously - like Goop. Everyone, across the full span of people, seems to feel that way. From NARPS to gays to creatives to athletic MVPs. Unity. Belonging. Connection.

To boot, one of the things HWS has really nailed is the intersection of the applied and the intellectual (note: I 100% lifted this from an HWS publication). This was spotlighted by the most impressive career services operation I have seen in many years. They have an army of eleven pros standing by to help students plan a post-HWS existence, and they provide career support to graduates for life. Every current student is guaranteed an internship or research placement - and generous stipends are provided for those that are unpaid or underpaid. The approach here is “white glove,” deeply personal, and champions “soft skills.” The person I met with had spent many decades working at Calvin Klein in Manhattan - chic, well-spoken, incredibly driven, approachable, a font of wisdom and meaningful life experience. She couldn’t have been more remarkable, and I’d be hard pressed to find a better human to launch a 22-year-old into the wild. 

A modern-day deity once belted “money changes everything.” It sure does - and this place would know. HWS has an exceptionally loyal alumni and donor following, and they are currently wrapping up a monumental $400 million fundraising campaign (and it’s looking like they could actually exceed that goal). And as part of this, they received a $70 million gift from a single donor. They also have a new, state-of-the-art, 40,000-square-foot science building being erected in the center of campus, funded by an alum to the tune of $25 million. 

You’d think they would lose some humility - but haven’t. And clearly won’t. They see this success as solidifying their strength and future, and underwriting what they do best: providing a sterling, contemporary undergraduate education with a community full of soul. They also want to ensure access to it - HWS has very strong financial aid, including incredible, landscape-changing merit scholarships. This means that this small liberal arts college is able to attract and retain students from a wide swath of socioeconomic backgrounds, including the increasingly illusive American middle class.

At the end of my day, I literally collapsed into a stylishly patinaed wing chair in the Admission Office, but was brought back to life by the arrival of their charismatic - but laid back - Dean of Admission. In many ways, he was the embodiment of HWS: down-to-earth, whip smart, and clearly knows what he is doing. A kind person, who is also good at being a person. I got the sense that he is not someone obsessed with admission “book cooking” or hustling for the cold meaninglessness of rankings. Instead, he wants the right kids for his community, because he knows that it's the people who are the heart of this place. Clearly, he’s figured out how to get them. HWS just had the largest applicant pool in its history, and is about to welcome its largest incoming class in nearly a decade.

In the end, he helped me fully connect the dots: what this place has that so many of its peers are missing is real momentum. At a time when so many liberal arts colleges are closing, slowing, or merely hanging on - HWS is getting stronger, better. It’s thriving. It’s brimming with excitement, promise. Beautiful, natural, prismatic light at every turn.  

Its moment has not passed. It’s right now. And I’d bet the house that it lasts.

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: SMU

Plot twist: I’m currently in the back of a 7-Eleven in Dallas double fisting lime cucumber Gatorade. 

Nor have I paid for it yet. The bemused owner is saying something that I can’t quite make out - blame Jade’s Midnight Cowboy blaring on my AirPods. My huge Lotuff tote has capsized on the floor, spilling Clinique lip balm and a copy of Joan Didion’s Salvador onto the tile. 

I dare to think that he’s seen this before. 

Don’t worry, I eventually pay for my items, and slip a fin into his tip jar. 

But I’m willing to countenance this minor indignity, and the 100 degree heat that necessitated it. Across the street, my latest obsession - Southern Methodist University - stands shrouded in lushness and enigmatic lore. 

For in the Northeast, SMU still raises some eyebrows, and an initial attraction usually yields to skepticism. A fellow guest at a chic Brooklyn wedding - upon hearing about my forthcoming visit - simply noted: “it’s brave of you to go by yourself.” Fair; but in our divided America, a Texas address will elicit that reaction regardless of what actually lies there. 

And what lies here is an eclectic powerhouse with seemingly endless opportunity. 

A la AP English, here are three pieces of evidentiary support for that declaration (prepare to swoon): 

1.) The City of Dallas. Sorry, but this is not Texas. At least not by its most rueful definition. Dallas is a sophisticated, cosmopolitan, open, friendly and deeply diverse city. I saw more Zimmermann kaftans than MAGA hats. It’s also a corporate, medical, and cultural mecca - which significantly bolsters the strength of the SMU experience. My fabulous tour guide - Symone - noted that students generally complete an average of two to three internships over their four years, which many times facilitate a seamless transition to adulthood (read: employment!) upon graduation. But importantly: SMU’s position in Dallas does not come at the expense of a tightly-knit community or campus-centric vibe. 

2.) SMU has resources for days. It has an endowment worth more than $2 billion. This translates to ample support for the fabulous undergraduate academic experience, the state of the art physical plant, and the attraction and retention of top faculty - not to mention the maintenance of a baller merit scholarship program. It also means it can weather pretty much any storm. And today: there are lots of storms. 

3.) The Meadows School of the Arts. In my opinion, Meadows is an exceedingly distinctive, supremely quality asset - a VVS stone in an already glittering crown. Meadows houses some of the best visual and performing arts programs in the country. There is both serious talent and serious support for that talent. Dance is a particular strength. Colin, the kind and accomplished sophomore who graciously shuttled me around their mammoth facility for an hour, was awarded an SMU grant to choreograph and stage his own exhibition in Dallas this summer. Roughly 10% of SMU’s overall undergraduate population is enrolled in Meadows. And let’s just be honest: creatives always bring texture - and a certain joie de vivre - to the party. 

Detractors are quick to label SMU a “country club,” whatever that means in the vastly changed social ecosystem of today (perhaps snotty or exclusive or monocultural?). But I’m sorry: I just don’t see it. 

The campus is definitively stunning, and the landscaping perfectly coiffed. 

There is - for sure - a subset of people here who are well put together, stylish (God forbid), and dare I say: a bit “flashy.” There are definitely a few Birkins and G-wagens around. And if you can’t handle that, then well: this may not be the place for you. 

But in the end, the truth is that this place is far more dynamic and far more multi-dimensional than people realize. 

Seventy percent of SMU undergraduates are receiving some sort of financial aid (either merit and/or need-based). A third are students of color, and 60% hail from outside Texas. There are sizable LGBT+ and Jewish contingents on campus, and they appear to enjoy widespread acceptance - both culturally and structurally. 

And I just get the sense that community wide: the people are genuinely kind and open-minded and approachable. 

It also feels - to this independent observer, anyway - that this place is at a transformational moment, with a strong tailwind at its back. SMU was recently admitted into the choice Atlantic Coast Conference, and people are going bananas for the Mustangs. They are also a newly minted “R1” research university (the most coveted Carnegie classification) - which means the scholarship happening here is notably innovative and incredibly strong. 

And importantly, SMU - which has long stood against discrimination - is currently in a protracted legal battle over their 2019 decision to disassociate from the regional Methodist conference over that church’s deeply discriminatory policies. The church keeps coming back for more - take a hint, girl: I think it’s over. But SMU appears in it to win it, and good on them and their board for standing up for what is right. 

In my three days here, SMU has reminded me that colleges - just like people - can be both high style and high substance. 

And in my opinion, SMU is just criminally undersold. Frankly, it’s just a few smart card plays away from being the new Tulane. 

So pony up, peeps. And for the love of God: stay hydrated. 

Hot Listing: University of Pittsburgh

Much like wearing four-inch Christian Louboutins to the supermarket on a Tuesday morning, attending a “city” college can read as bold, glamorous, idiosyncratic. Similarly, it often comes with some stark - and potentially uncomfortable - trade-offs. 

Many times, you don’t get an enclosed campus or tight community. It’s super expensive, both to study and to live. There isn’t a palpable, unified sense of school spirit. There is a feeling of detachment from the experience of college, and sometimes: a cultural coldness. Your life can prematurely drift into that of a 25-year-old junior copy editor - one with a measly salary who routinely puts Top Ramen on her parents’ credit card. 

But the University of Pittsburgh seems - rather remarkably - to have escaped these trade-offs. 

The sheer, 1920s regalness of their campus belies a community teeming with energy and togetherness and passion - and one that is markedly diverse. I saw every conceivable type of person over the 48 hours I was decamped there - from pink-haired art students to Vuitton-clutching sorority girls. Every self was everywhere. 

And shockingly, they all appear to get along and have a good time together. Students seem to gather at the numerous centralized green spaces on campus, which give the environs cohesion, and the community a tighter, tactile vibe. Schenley Plaza was my chosen pitch, where more than one spikeball landed on my copy of Vogue, prompting kind regrets from the offending athletes. 

The niceness, and down-to-earth approachability of the people, initially caught me off guard - I forgot that Pittsburgh is Midwest adjacent. But tons of random students and faculty said “hello” to me as I rolled out for my morning coffee. Do note: I live in Boston, where most people only talk to their neighbors to threaten them about their errant leaves and lax sorting of recyclables. 

There is also Pitt gear everywhere. Like everywhere. People obviously love the place, almost obsessionally. It’s also a bonafide D1 athletics powerhouse - a true rarity among urban colleges. 

But it was my fabulous and smart private tour guide, Kira, that finally put it all together for me. “Morale is just unusually high at Pitt,” she told me as we stood in the shadow of Cathy (the hugely iconic “Cathedral of Learning"), “everyone here just really wants to be here.” She’s right. And you can feel it. 

Here are three more reasons to love Pitt: 

1.) Hail to Rolling Admission. I’m sorry, but this is every College Counselor's dream. You can apply starting on August 1, and you’ll get an admission decision within six to eight weeks, sometimes faster. But, buyer beware: that does not mean that Pitt is “easy” to get into. It certainly is not. But if you do apply early in that rolling period, and if you are lucky enough to land a spot, a colossal weight will be lifted off your shoulders during your senior fall. 

2.) Bulletproof Health Sciences. Preemptive disclaimer: all of the academics at Pitt are outstanding. But the strength of the health sciences warrants a moment of pause. Pitt has one of the best undergraduate nursing programs in America. They offer myriad “GAP” programs, where undergraduates receive guaranteed admission to the University’s health-related graduate divisions, including their dental school and physician assistant program. Pitt’s medical school and its associated teaching hospital are world renowned. And back in the day, the Salk vaccine was discovered in these halls. 

3.) Cost of Attendance. We’re at the precipice of many institutions - including some of Pitt’s peers - costing $100,000 per year. I’m sorry, what? Conversely, Pitt’s total cost of attendance for out-of-state residents this year was just a hair north of $60,000, depending on the enrolled division; and they also have some generous merit scholarship opportunities, too. It’s the steal of the century - and one that is bolstered and secured by their baller endowment, which clocks it at roughly $5.5 billion. To boot, the cost of living in Pittsburgh is considerably lower than in Boston, New York City, and Washington D.C. 

I’m going to end by being slightly nasty, but in the loving RuPaul’s Drag Race sort of way. As I loaded my duffle and tote into the Uber for my ride back to the airport, and took in the grandeur of the Soldiers and Sailors lawn one last time, I thought: “why would it make sense for someone to pay more than 50% more per year to go to one of the slightly tonier East Coast “city” schools over this?” For, in my humble opinion, Pitt is actually better in many - if not all - ways. 

See, I told you: slightly nasty. Albeit valid. Ru would be proud. 

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.