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.