UNSCHOOLERS IN COLLEGE

Doubts Now that I’m at College
by Peter Kowalke

Having spent time in a community college, a big state university, an Ivy League college, an alternative college and no college (á la unschooling), it has come to my attention that knowledge may be acquired via many different paths. Despite gross differences in cost, none are consistently better than the rest; I haven’t yet located a place where my intellectual world is rocked on a daily basis. Of course, that doesn’t discourage my search for the perfect learning environment, a place where I’m routinely confronted with completely novel, unimagined conclusions.

Before moving to Hampshire College in Amherst, Massachusetts, I had hoped to find the perfect environment at an expensive, private school. Particularly, I had hoped to find consistently insightful knowledge at an expensive, private school that didn’t resemble an expensive, private school. Already disenchanted by the traditional classroom setting, I was looking for an educational archetype from an earlier age; a place where an eccentric artist or mysterious, sagacious old scholar would espouse for me the untold wonders of life. A guru system with a profound guru was what I wanted, if you like, or at least someplace with many minor, resident gurus who presented profound truths on a daily basis.

I haven’t been able to locate a profound guru, though, nor a school teeming with lesser gurus. And, so far I haven’t been impressed with the difference between a “good” college and one more pedestrian. Only a finite amount of information can be crammed into my head over a 24-hour period, no matter how many particle accelerators an institution owns or published professors are on staff. Even "cutting edge" education has limits, at least with me—maybe I’m a flawed medium. When I look critically at college and what I learn, there really doesn’t seem to be much difference between an expensive school and one that is cheap.

So why, then, am I paying so much for college? Why am I here, at this school that costs more than $30,000 a year? I ask that question frequently.

I’m not exactly dissatisfied with Hampshire College, disillusioned or bitter. When hosting prospective students, I’m quite Pollyanna; my biggest gripe about the college is that our student IDs are cheap and disreputable. So far I love Hampshire College. I have my own dorm room that is carpeted, individually heated and well insulated. The food, despite a bad reputation on campus, probably is a dietary upgrade for me. I never am lacking for nature or hiking trails. Campus resources are adequate, and it is rumored that my library card grants me access to the sixteenth largest library in the country (when combined with the surrounding libraries). Like that old television show, Cheers, everyone knows my name—including Hampshire’s president and all my professors. And, the academics are challenging. I like Hampshire.

Happy as I am at Hampshire, I have to ask if a better system exists. Is this really necessary? I repeat that thought like a mantra. Why is college so different than high school or grade school? If I chose unschooling over high school, why choose college now? Isn’t college a continuation of the school system I rejected?

Even before this recent epiphany, it seemed queer that as an unschooler I would learn by living and then, at a certain age, suddenly decide that an educational method I had rejected was better. With my unschooling skills honed and my intellect sharpened by age, wouldn’t my late teen years and early twenties be the best time for unschooling? If college really is superior, why not skip unschooling altogether and head directly to college? Conversely, why choose college at all if unschooling truly is a viable method? There seemingly is dissonance here, two diametrically opposed ideas battling for my allegiance. Since I don’t waffle in my conviction that unschooling works, I waffle in my conviction that college is necessary.

If college might not be the only option, at minimum I return to all the money I’m paying for a Hampshire education. As a lifelong unschooler, I feel qualified to itemize my college bill and wonder if I could get an identical or better education for a lot less money. What if I gave myself all the money I was spending on college and unschooled instead? Couldn’t I get a whole lot more than I do here at Hampshire? Wouldn’t the education be so much better? Or, heck, couldn’t I get the same education for a lot less money at least?

A good example comes from a pamphlet I was reading this evening about the Salt Center for Documentary Field Studies in Maine. Some administrators at Hampshire were distributing the pamphlets to students. I spent several hours this evening considering the program, since I’m into both photography and writing.

The program would send me to Maine for a semester, where I’d learn advanced journalism and photography skills through hands-on field study. Basically, I’d craft National Geographic-like stories for the Salt Center’s regional publication about people and their lives. For a second, I seriously thought about applying to the program. It sounded great! Then it dawned on me that I would be paying Salt $7,000 to recreate my early teen years. As a teen, armed with no more than an old Macintosh, a point-and-shoot camera and a hand-held tape recorder, I had published a monthly magazine strikingly similar to what Salt was advertising. The guidance and field study in Maine undoubtedly would improve my journalism, but at what cost? And, who said I couldn’t learn as much by relocating my little magazine to Maine? I don’t discount the learning, but I ask why an institution is uniquely qualified to administer such a program when unschooling provides comparable opportunity?

The mildly painful truth is that I don’t trust unschooling enough to forego college. After twelve school-age years as an unschooler, I’m still not maverick enough to rebuke the giant social construct that is institutionalized education. What if I skip college and find that I cannot get a job? Not possessing a reset button, I’m unwilling to experiment with myself to that magnitude. Instead, I compromise. I’m using an “alternative” college that approximates unschooling. I did that during my unschooling years, too, when I was unschooling but enrolled at the Clonlara School (a private school in Michigan that validated my work and gave me grades and a transcript). The difference between Clonlara and Hampshire, though, is that Hampshire limits me and costs more in one year than Clonlara did in 12.

Even though I am in college, and know why I am in college, I can’t help but imagine what I’d do if I had more chutzpa. If I unschooled through college, what would be my approach?

For starters, I would steal an idea from Hampshire and find an advisor, someone willing to chat on a regular basis about my studies and my overall direction—someone who isn’t family or heavily biased. The advisor would "ask the tough questions," provide deadline pressure, and make sure I don’t dilute my plans on account of laziness. I really wanted someone like that as a teen, and he or she would be even more important during the college years. Or, so I imagine—I haven’t really ever had a mentor.

Also among my cadre of supporters, I’d locate mentors in the various professional fields I’m considering. In my case, a physicist, a journalist, a photographer, etc. A handful of mentors willing to talk shop and answer questions would be the defining element of my college unschooling program, were I actually to leave college for more unschooling. I can order textbooks, instructional material and curriculum through the normal homeschooling channels. There is nothing inherently difficult about gathering adequate material. What makes college different than high school or grade school, in my experience, is access to individuals who supplement the material by answering questions and providing feedback.

If a handful of mentors could be found, people who would answer questions and introduce me to others in the field, the other facets of college easily could be reproduced. To foster independence, I could travel extensively and/or conduct my educational experiment with friends or family in other states. If my social life dwindled, I could fraternize with students at a nearby college (or move near a college if I felt isolated and desperate). If lab equipment became important, I always could audit a course or two at the community college. Plenty of institutes and summer programs exist, too, like the Salt Center. College unschooling probably would have unforeseen challenges, but I’m pretty sure the challenges wouldn’t be insurmountable.

The more I think about unschooling myself through college, the more I wonder what I’m doing in college. It is overly expensive and probably no better than unschooling. It might even be worse, but I won’t know that until I’m done with Hampshire and have a proper point of comparison.

Hampshire is a good college, but I’m unsure if college makes sense at all. I’m starting to realize there’s no magic learning opportunity, no learning resource any better than those I had as an unschooler. The longer I’m away from unschooling, the more I realize it doesn’t get any better than that. Often, other learning opportunities are worse: worse in quality, or worse just in relative value for my buck.

Hampshire College is a safe bet, but in my first few months here I’m revisiting my unschooling roots. Hampshire encourages students to think outside the box and ask the tough questions, confident that such lines of inquiry will lead back to its campus. For someone like me, though, such questions lead far, far away from college. They lead me away from traditional schools, sure, but also away from alternative learning environments like Hampshire.

I’ve lived the best educational system I know for the last 20 years. So, why am I still in college? I’m in college because nobody I know regrets college, but plenty regret not finishing it. College is safer than unschooling, even if college is expensive and less educational.

By Peter Kowalke. Originally printed in the January-February, 1999 issue of HYPERLINK Home Education Magazine. You can contact Peter through his web site, Grownwithoutschooling.com.