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Everyone in higher education has heard of "the sophomore slump." At most colleges and universities, first-year students are welcomed, encouraged and provided programs and services designed to help them navigate new academic expectations and build social networks. But they often come back the following fall with an unavoidable question: "So what do I do now?"

No longer new yet usually still without a major (at least at liberal arts colleges) and still seeking a firm social place in the community, many sophomores lack focus and drift. They get into trouble, drop out, get sent home, transfer.

Higher education can no longer ignore the sophomore slump. The sophomore year is the toughest year in college -- it is where retention lives. We have to build upon first-year programs to empower sophomore students to define the questions that will guide their academic journeys, to identify the opportunities and activities that will lead to their desired post-collegiate careers, and to develop relationships with faculty members, staff members and peers who will mentor them along the way. Individual institutions will have to determine their own approaches, remaining true to their mission and values. But retaining sophomores should be the overriding goal.

"Sophomore" derives from the Greek sophos, meaning "wise," and mōros, meaning " fool." Keeping that notion in mind as we envision and design programs for sophomores is probably a good start. Scholars who have focused on the sophomore year, such as Molly Schaller of St. Louis University and Julie Tetley at the U. S. Air Force Academy, have also advocated for a combination of academic and social programs directed solely toward sophomores. Those programs include dedicated housing, enhanced live-in academic advising, career and major-discovery programs, programs that single sophomores out and acknowledge their presence, and courses specifically designed to help second-year students answer vexing questions about their place and purpose on the campus and beyond.

At St. Lawrence University, we have been working on those questions for about a decade. While we have a longstanding and robust yearlong first-year program, like most institutions, we have long known about and acknowledged some of the usual slippage during the sophomore year -- especially between the spring of the first year and the declaration of a major during the spring of the second year. During that time, students, especially young men, often avoid advisers, struggle with time management, and over-embrace new freedoms from parental and academic structures -- all of which results in them neglecting their academic work .

We have, however, taken steps of the sort suggested by Schaller and Tetley. Under the aegis of a 2007 grant from the Teagle Foundation, we worked with colleagues at Colorado College, Connecticut College and Skidmore College to learn about the academic and social circumstances of sophomores at liberal arts colleges, and we then produced a white paper. Based on both quantitative and qualitative data gathered at each college, this paper recommended a variety of initiatives, still quite pertinent, that encourage sophomores to define and explore the goals that animate them within the liberal arts. We began by surveying our students about their interactions with their academic advisors, the challenges they felt, their campus involvements and their overall satisfaction. Those results led each college to initiate high-impact programs focused on sophomores.

While those program offerings varied at each institution, we all reconsidered our advising structures and set about designing complementary initiatives. At St. Lawrence, we created a menu of sophomore seminars and held discussion dinners. The seminars were shorter than usual courses, designed to feel different, and focused on questions of personal values. (Two sample titles: "The Meaning of Life" and "What's Important to Me?") These seminars have continued and, through a 2016 grant from The Andrew W. Mellon Foundation, we are in the process of expanding them as a central element in a program we have called "Sophomore Journeys."

Some of our new Sophomore Journeys seminars feature the same type of practical, hands-on, experiential learning that students so often praise in our successful first-year program. Students learn how to create podcasts and documentary videos or explore techniques for designing and assembling books. Other seminars have community-based learning components, like a book group with community members or a semester-long project with a partner social services organization. Still others will address pressing contemporary issues like the diversity of ways to practice Islam; the impact of the sport on national discussions of race, identity and policy; or how to evaluate the impact of Twitter on a presidency.

Every Sophomore Journey seminar in our rotating menu of courses offers sophomores significant mentoring from faculty members outside the normal structure of office hours through teas and coffees, shared meals and field trips. And every faculty member who teaches a sophomore seminar receives extra training on how to integrate into classroom discussions advice about selecting a major, obtaining internships and pursuing research opportunities, as well as how to talk more comfortably with students about their extracurricular activities and residential and social environments.

Many institutions, not just liberal arts colleges, can adapt these strategies. Where targeted classes for sophomores may not be possible, departments and programs can reshape their foundational courses and expand elective offerings with an appeal to sophomores in mind. Where overtaxed advisers must restrict their focus for efficiency's sake to course selection or graduation requirements, colleges and universities can build peer-to-peer mentoring networks.

Attention to the sophomore year works: During the decade ending in 2016, St. Lawrence's first-year-to-sophomore-year retention has held steady at about 90 percent. But more than numbers, important as they are, colleges and universities have an implicit pedagogical and moral imperative as teachers of undergraduates. The cost of ignoring the sophomore slump is not just lost tuition dollars when we fail to retain our sophomores. It is less engaged, less motivated juniors; it is seniors uncertain about their futures after graduation. Institutional culture and reputation depend on how we help sophomores shape their own best answers to the question, "So what do I do now?"

Enticing high-school graduates to our institutions implies the responsibility of providing direction and support throughout each of a student's years on campus. On students' arrival and first adjustment, during the years focused on the major, we all know well how to proceed. But now, and most especially, we need to keep focusing on the sophomore year as our "wise fools" seek to find their way -- helping them in discovering passions and direction, finding the modes that work, and leading them where they want to go. That's just what they should do now.

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How to improve retention of sophomore students (essay)

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Everyone in higher education has heard of "the sophomore slump." At most colleges and universities, first-year students are welcomed, encouraged and provided programs and services designed to help them navigate new academic expectations and build social networks. But they often come back the following fall with an unavoidable question: "So what do I do now?"

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The Life-Shaping Power of Higher Education 

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The Life-Shaping Power of Higher Education 

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As I begin my first full semester as president of Pace University after serving for 10 years as president of Oberlin College, I find myself looking to the past and the things I've learned. I can't help but reflect on the extraordinary changes I've witnessed in American higher education along the way.

This past decade has been one of transformation for our nation and our colleges and universities. Barack Obama was twice elected president of the United States. We experienced the Great Recession -- the worst economic downturn since the Depression. Income inequality has grown from a significant problem to a polarizing divide, with ripples felt in every corner of our society. The internet has become the newswire of the world and the center of our economic might, as well as a battlefield where terror is waged and democracy is tested.

Same-sex marriage has moved from limited recognition in a few states to the boldly embraced law of the land. Rather than evolving into a postracial society, we've realized we have a long, long way to go. And after a bare-knuckle election that splintered families and friendships, Donald Trump was elected president of our not so United States. In the words of the Grateful Dead, "What a long, strange trip it's been."

American higher education has also been on a journey. There have been many changes and challenges during my time as a college president. But one important thing hasn't changed: the value of a college education and its ability to transform students' lives.

That life-shaping power sometimes gets overlooked in the shifting landscape of higher education. Colleges and universities are facing an array of economic, demographic and sociopolitical challenges. Among the most significant is the public's changing perception of the purpose and value of a college education. The short version: many Americans think a college degree should be a ticket to a specific job -- the cheaper the ticket, the better.

Campus climate issues have also changed dramatically since 2007. While many small residential colleges exist in a kind of bubble, many of those climate issues mirror what is happening in our society. Race is one example. The realization of a postracial society has not been achieved, and the nation has seen race become a much more contentious issue. The killings of unarmed black men by police officers spawned the Black Lives Matter movement and fueled student activism on campuses across the country. The hatred and bigotry displayed in Charlottesville, Va., undoubtedly will spark difficult conversations and more this fall.

Ensuring free speech is another campus issue that has grown more challenging over the past decade. In the classrooms and on campuses, getting students to discuss difficult issues freely and respectfully remains a challenge.

Of course, no reference to free speech is complete without also acknowledging the mechanism by which it is exercised. Social media and technology have been a decidedly mixed blessing in promoting civil discourse. Read the comments section on just about any news story having to do with one of America's top liberal arts schools, and you'll find no shortage of trolls and vitriolic anti-intellectualism.

Yet one thing hasn't changed: the value of a liberal arts education. I received an outstanding liberal arts education as an undergraduate, and it continues to shape my career and my life. I firmly believe liberal education is the best preparation a young person can have for the job market and a rewarding, meaningful life as a citizen of our democracy.
Continuing the Great Conversation
Today, however, liberal education finds itself under fire more often than in the past. The primary reason for this -- to borrow a phrase from the movie Cool Hand Luke -- is a failure to communicate. Many colleges and universities that embrace liberal education suffer from a certain degree of self-satisfaction. We know our graduates do well in their lives and careers. We celebrate that within our own communities. But as a group we don't do an effective job of communicating that success to the broader public. We need to better explain what liberal education is. We need to better articulate what we do -- and why it is so important for our country and the world.

That said, the value of liberal arts education can be hard to convey because it can't be boiled down to a simple sound bite or an eye-popping starting salary. The mission of most liberal arts colleges is to educate the whole person rather than training graduates to succeed at specific jobs. Robert Maynard Hutchins, the great American educator who studied at Oberlin College and Yale University and served for decades as president of the University of Chicago, wrote in a famous essay on education titled "The Great Conversation" that the aim of liberal education is human excellence both private and public -- meaning excellence as a person and as a member of society.

Liberal education does that by teaching students to become lifelong learners who are their own best teachers. It enables them to take intellectual risks and to think laterally -- to understand how the humanities, the arts and the sciences inform, enrich and affect one another. By connecting diverse ideas and themes across the academic disciplines, liberal arts students learn to better reason and analyze, and express their creativity and their ideas.

College should do more than get you one job. It should prepare you to succeed in multiple careers. Studies show that current college graduates will likely change careers a dozen times in their lives -- and do so before turning 40. If all they learned in college was how to do one thing well, navigating those changes is going to be tough.

Successful careers and financial gain are just part of the value of a liberal arts education. Its true worth is measured not in dollars but in meaningful lives well lived. Through the years, the breadth, depth, flexibility and rigor of American liberal arts education has enriched countless lives in myriad ways. It has also produced many leaders in virtually every field of human endeavor. Other countries are now embracing the liberal arts in a bid to create employees who are not rigid technocrats but more flexible and innovative thinkers.

Given the global leadership of American higher education, and the global economy's demands for flexible, adaptable employees, undergraduate liberal education is more than relevant. It remains one of our country's great assets.

Is it for everyone? Of course not. But for those who pursue liberal arts education, it can be life transforming.

I see this life-transforming potential across all types of colleges and universities. Some people might consider Pace University an unusual next step for someone who spent a decade as president of a small, semi-rural school in a Midwestern state. Yet while Oberlin and Pace are vastly different institutions, they hold equally impressive records and embrace certain common values and concentrations of study -- and both provide an important liberal arts education.

Despite its modest size, Oberlin College has never had difficulty distinguishing itself from much larger, more recognizable metropolitan peers. It was established nearly 200 years ago with an abolitionist philosophy that challenged the conventional thinking of the time. It would become the oldest coed liberal arts college in the nation and the first to admit students of all races. It would see its first African-American graduate become the first black lawyer admitted to the bar in the state of New York and play an integral role in the early years of Howard University.

Oberlin continues to embrace a progressive legacy. Its campus community is known for its diversity and inclusion, its advocacy of LGBTQ issues, and its social and political activism. In addition, the college has distinguished itself for a commitment to arts and culture through the extremely selective Oberlin Conservatory of Music. It was also an early proponent of study in sustainability and effective environmental stewardship.

With a total enrollment of 13,000 students across three campuses, Pace is significantly larger than Oberlin. Its students hail from all 50 states and 109 countries around the world. Two-thirds study at the university's flagship location, a textbook metropolitan center in lower Manhattan, while the rest opt for its Pleasantville and White Plains campuses in Westchester County to the north.

Long regarded as a commuter accounting school, the university now offers over 100 majors and degree programs and encompasses six schools, including a law school consistently ranked third in the nation for its environmental law program, plus ultracompetitive undergraduate and graduate performing arts programs.

Despite their differences, diversity and gender equality are hallmarks of student populations at both Oberlin and Pace. Pace, like Oberlin, was ahead of its time and admitted women and minorities from the beginning, in 1906. Today, nearly two-thirds of students are women and more than half self-identify as a minority. Unlike at Oberlin, many Pace students are the first in their families to go to college. And while income is just one outcome by which to measure the value of a college education, a study by the Equality of Opportunity Project ranks Pace first in New York -- and second in the nation -- for economic mobility based on students who enter college at the bottom fifth of income distribution and end up in the top fifth.

That's just another example of the life-transforming potential of the liberal arts. I am inspired and energized by the changes I have witnessed in American higher education over the past 10 years. As I look to the future as president of Pace University, I am excited by the promise and possibility of things to come and the impact the university will have on the lives of current and future generations of students.

The past decade is proof that higher education is more relevant and essential to our modern world than ever before -- and the value of a college degree has never been greater than it is today. Providing access to such an education for any student who wishes to pursue it strikes me as a goal that any great nation should and must embrace.

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The importance of the liberal arts in transforming lives (essay)

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As I begin my first full semester as president of Pace University after serving for 10 years as president of Oberlin College, I find myself looking to the past and the things I've learned. I can't help but reflect on the extraordinary changes I've witnessed in American higher education along the way.

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The addition of a "diversity requirement" to the curriculum at Hamilton College has gained considerable attention and prompted lively debate since it was announced in May. Starting in the fall of 2017, all students will be required to pass either a course or combination of courses that examine "structural and institutional hierarchies based on one or more of the social categories of race, class, gender, ethnicity, nationality, religion, sexuality, age, and abilities/disabilities" to complete their concentration, Hamilton's equivalent of a major.

The change is especially noteworthy at Hamilton because of the absence of traditional distribution requirements: Besides the classes that students needed for their concentration, they'd had to take only three writing-intensive classes and a qualitative and symbolic reasoning course, all of which could be fulfilled in a variety of disciplines. If you never wanted to take math again, you didn't have to, or if you just hated literature, you'd never again have had to set foot in the English department.

And yet, as a Hamilton student who has very much enjoyed the freedom from requirements and was drawn to the college because of that freedom, I think the new rule represents an important and potentially transformative change.

In ancient Greece, the liberal arts were intended to produce the ideal citizen: a person of intelligence, with sensible moral judgment and the ability to reason. Today the purpose of an education on that model is to create a well-rounded student who can relate diverse fields of study and connect apparently disparate thoughts and ideas. What could be more in line with that model than the goals of the new diversity course requirement?

We modern-day liberal-arts students have the potential to connect different ideas so that they can be applied in different contexts.

At Hamilton, the lack of distribution requirements allows students to have more self-rule in choosing which classes to take. Theoretically, they should already be taking a range of classes within their concentration in order to become that well-rounded, ideal citizen whom the Greeks wanted their students to be.

We modern-day liberal-arts students are equipped with a variety of skills and experiences within our concentrations or majors (and, ideally, outside of them as well). We have the potential to connect different ideas so that they can be applied in different contexts.

Students in every concentration at Hamilton today, and at our peer liberal-arts institutions, can take classes that not only help us understand core disciplinary concepts but also understand how the material we are learning can be applied to seemingly unrelated situations in the larger community.

A student with a concentration in math, for example, can take a class that examines the statistical probability of social mobility of minorities. A physics major can explore how different ideologies and religions view topics like the creation of the universe. Every discipline can be connected to the goal of increased diversity at a college that recognizes its value.

In the fall of 2015, a student group calling itself The Movement sent Hamilton's president a list of demands, including one that called for the curriculum to reflect "Hamilton's mission statement to develop 'students as human beings,' as [Hamilton] prepare[s] them to make choices and accept the responsibilities of citizenship in a democratic world of intellect and diversity."

The group's list went on to say, "Hamilton needs a curriculum that values the importance of understanding issues revolving around systematic power dynamics and inequities. We demand the creation of Diversity Intensive courses."

The new rule is a direct response to this demand, and the college's administration should be praised for working to address the petitioners' concerns. To its credit, the faculty passed the proposal for the new course requirement by a vote of 80 to 19.

Hamilton recognizes that the "ability to write clearly and effectively is a core goal of a liberal arts education"; hence the three writing-intensive classes. It also values "the ability to identify, understand and use quantitative arguments in everyday contexts," so a requirement for a course in quantitative and symbolic reasoning was instituted. Valuing diversity and requiring students to study race, class, or gender identity is no different. All of these requirements will allow us to better connect and communicate with more people, and to help us gain a larger understanding of our field of study.

If my fellow students and I don't gain a greater appreciation of diversity in our classrooms, we certainly aren't going to learn it in our beloved but tiny, homogeneous Clinton, N.Y. I believe it is Hamilton's job to teach its students about the blend of all the beautifully unique groups of people and cultures in our state, our country, our world. This new requirement is a welcome step toward that goal.

Henry Shuldiner, a sophomore at Hamilton College, has spent this summer as an editing intern at The Chronicle.

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The addition of a "diversity requirement" to the curriculum at Hamilton College has gained considerable attention and prompted lively debate since it was announced in May.

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Colleges face scrutiny -- from would-be students, their parents and politicians -- over whether they are preparing students for careers. Gloria Cordes Larson has focused on these issues at Bentley University, a business-oriented institution that also takes pride in the general education students receive. Her new book, PreparedU: How Innovative Colleges Drive Student Success (Jossey-Bass), is something of a guide for colleges -- including those institutions far less focused on business than is Bentley -- to how to respond to the demands in this area. The book is also a critique of higher education, suggesting that many academics have failed to focus on these issues. The name comes from programs at Bentley that Larson has championed.

Larson responded via email to questions about her new book.
Q: What are the current practices that aren't working, that are resulting in some graduates failing to find a good spot in the job market?
A: When I speak with business leaders, I find there is a disconnect between how colleges educate undergraduates and the reality of how business operates today, particularly in regard to positions where the required skills cross traditional job-description boundaries. A business graduate, for example, needs to know the technical skills of their discipline, but that is no longer enough on its own. Critical thinking, complex problem solving, empathy, creativity and communication skills are all necessary in today's work environment. This is why more and more schools are finding creative ways to integrate the arts and sciences with professional and technical skills.

Employers are point-blank telling us they need college graduates who have mastered soft skills in addition to the hard, industry-specific technical skills. They are looking for employees who understand big data or business development, but according to research from Bentley University's PreparedU Project, a whopping 92 percent of employers rank critical thinking and the ability to analyze issues as "important" or "very important" to success. Additionally, 87 percent of those employers emphasize the importance of verbal and written communication and presentation skills, and 91 percent want employees who can work collaboratively within a team. To fulfill that need, universities must provide opportunities, as part of the educational experience, that teach students skills like team and relationship building, understanding emotional intelligence, and participating in leadership roles.

Career services is a crucial element to a graduate's success. A mistake that students and some universities make is introducing career services on the way out the door as graduation and "real life" near. That's too late. Career services needs to start as soon as students arrive on campus.
Q: How should the curriculum be changed to make students better prepared?
A: This question goes to the core of the book and what everyone in higher education should be asking themselves -- how can we best prepare today's young adults for a successful career and a happy life? This is especially important at a time when a fast-changing global and digital economy is forcing students to prepare for jobs after graduation that may not even exist yet. The key is to be innovative and adaptable -- these are skills that can be taught. I believe it all begins with an approach that combines left-brain and right-brain thinking, integrates hands-on learning experiences, and exposes students to the technologies that will give them an edge in specific industries.

This combination of left-brain and right-brain thinking is happening all over the innovation economy in companies large and small, and it's far past time higher education gets on board. At Bentley that translates into a mix of business with arts and sciences. One example is Bentley's liberal studies major, in which business majors add a second, liberal arts major. Students might combine a major in economics and finance with a liberal studies major in earth environment and global sustainability, leaving them well suited to develop a business plan for a growing solar power company. Or someone might put together a left-brain interest in accounting and a right-brain interest in ethics and corporate responsibility; there is no doubt Wall Street is in need of investors and business leaders like that. These are real examples I've seen among recent Bentley graduates.

Beyond these choices of major or field of study, hands-on experiences are crucial to better prepare students, whether via external internships, corporate immersion classes on campus with real companies, study abroad or community-based service-learning opportunities. A combination of several of these experiences is ideal. These real-world experiences allow students to see how their studies, skills and interests play out in the realities of work and life. In fact, I think internships and service learning should be mandatory for all students, regardless of major.
Q: Bentley has a focus on business. How do your ideas play out at a liberal arts college?
A: In the book, I quote Clark University's president, David Angel, as saying, "Liberal arts education can't stand still." The truth is, no one in higher ed can stand still. Higher education's traditional separation of left-brain and right-brain domains needs to disappear. Fortunately, that change is beginning to take hold. The hybrid model that dissolves the traditional barrier between business and liberal arts education is being done successfully at a number of different institutions, from Ivy League schools to community colleges. It can absolutely be applied at liberal arts schools.

Clark University is a great example. Clark has made good on its vow to not stand still by overhauling its curriculum and introducing a new model of liberal arts education that it calls Liberal Education and Effective Practice. This approach integrates world, workplace and personal experiences with a liberal arts curriculum. By integrating projects and internships, alumni mentoring, research, community engagement and cross-cultural exchanges with classroom experiences, the program fosters critical thinking, effective communication, creativity, teamwork, a strong ethical framework and the resilience and persistence to get things done. This what students need to thrive in today's complex, ever-changing world.

Another example: at Davidson College, a liberal arts school, they believe career services should be a core part of the student experience. It starts the first week of first year, when students do a Myers-Briggs assessment to figure out who they are, what drives them and where they want to go. There it is again, the dissolution of that traditional line between careers and liberal arts. I think that's the right approach.

A report released in 2011 called " Rethinking Undergraduate Business Education: Liberal Learning for the Profession," by the Carnegie Foundation for the Advancement of Teaching, examined 10 schools, including Bentley. Called the BELL project (Business, Entrepreneurship and Liberal Learning), the report concluded that "each of these domains [liberal arts and business or practical learning] must serve as both crucible and catalyst to animate the educational potential of the other." Bentley had at that time incorporated our "fusion" education model, linking business and the liberal arts, as well as our liberal studies majors. This learning model highlighted by BELL has become an important differentiator at many leading colleges and universities in order to properly prepare their students.
Q: Many these days argue for online education as an alternative to traditional higher education. You have an entire chapter on the value of place-based education. Why is physical presence so important?
A: I am very passionate about this -- which is why I devoted all of chapter 5 to it. If a student can attend college on a campus, the totality of their personal experience is much richer. Place-based education -- the campus -- is where students, professors, mentors, peers and activities come together for a holistic experience, greater than the sum of its parts and suited to that time in life when young people are largely becoming who they will be for decades to come.

The internet and online courses provide a superabundance of information, but wisdom and intellectual growth still depend on the relationships of teachers and students. When living on campus, students have the opportunity for advanced learning including time management, learning limitations, gaining new perspectives and getting outside your comfort zone. Graduates need to possess the courage to take risks, the creativity to innovate, a strong moral compass -- all things you get by living independently on a campus with new people and new experiences.

I realize that place-based education is a privilege. Not everybody can live on a campus for four years, whether because of financial circumstances or commitments to work or family. That's why it's so important that the higher education system offers off-campus students a range of options, including part-time study and financial aid, as well as online learning.
Q: Some faculty members fear that efforts to make students better prepared for jobs will undercut general education. How would you reassure them?
A: I would say to them that this is not an either/or situation. It's possible to prepare students to engage in successful careers after graduation while also giving them a great general education. It's not vocational or narrow to say the real world -- and preparing students for it -- matters.

Our faculty at Bentley don't see this as pitting general education versus preparing students for careers. They are the ones who most "own" our model of integrating business with the liberal arts and its resulting success -- for the past eight consecutive years, over 98 percent of our graduates have a job or attend graduate school within six months of graduation. The reality is that this is what students and families are concerned about. Research from the University of California, Los Angeles's Higher Education Institute tells us that 85 percent of first-year college students say getting a better job was a major reason for attending college. These are numbers we cannot ignore.

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A university president discusses her new book on how colleges can prepare students for success

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Colleges face scrutiny -- from would-be students, their parents and politicians -- over whether they are preparing students for careers. Gloria Cordes Larson has focused on these issues at Bentley University, a business-oriented institution that also takes pride in the general education students receive.