Honors Colleges: Readers Respond

Last Friday I mentioned that TG has received offers of admission to the honors colleges of several flagship state universities, and she wasn’t sure whether to assume that honors colleges are substantively different from their host universities or if they’re just marketing gimmicks. I asked my wise and worldly readers for their responses, in hopes that they’ve seen things I haven’t seen.

I’ve said it before, but I have the best readers ever.

Unsurprisingly, variations on “it depends” were the most common. Most of the responses were positive, though; even the relatively skeptical ones noted that HC students often get first dibs at registration, which is nothing to sneeze at in the context of many large universities.

Several reported variations on what one reader wrote: “Honors College provided great opportunities in the first couple of years but faded in importance and became more of a burden when approaching graduation.” I could see that. The first couple of years are when the separate dorm leads to friendships with academically ambitious peers, and when the interdisciplinary seminars (assuming they exist) tend to matter most. In the later years, students start to peel off more into their majors. A few folks even mentioned that their kids had to drop out of honors college programs after a while because the requirements of the HC program weren’t compatible with completing the major within normal time. That seems like a design flaw, but colleges are complicated enough that I could see how that would happen.

Another reader put it succinctly: “Other than scholarships, I believe the Honors College is, like college in general, what you make of it.” Both points are well-taken. Scholarships are lovely and are not to be taken lightly. And we’ve all seen students manage to glide through substantive programs seemingly unaffected. It may be parental bias, but I’m not worried about TG trying to coast. That’s not how she’s wired. I want to ensure that wherever she goes, the raw material is there for her to make something great of it.

One respondent who works in residence life wrote that “honors programs provide students a _community_ of other ambitious and smart students. In many cases, this community-building happens even before students move in.” I like this point a lot. A university with tens of thousands of students can be overwhelming to someone who had, until then, lived in a house of three or four people. Having a smaller community as a home base can offer a sense of belonging. Getting the balance between safety and exploration right is as much art as science, but the idea of having a familiar group to retreat to in between adventures outside seems to make sense. It’s a similar argument to the appeal of Greek organizations, except that this one is organized specifically around academic ambition.

Another reader referred me to the National Collegiate Honors Council, with which I was not familiar.

One reader noted that the contrast between the small, intense classes in his honors program and the cavernous intro classes he took outside the program convinced him to transfer to a small liberal arts college after the first year. That’s the kind of story that shows up in statistics as a failure, but I’d say it’s actually a success; he was able to figure out what he wanted and go for it. That’s sort of the point.

Another mentioned undergraduate research, though I suspect that’s more common in the STEM fields than in the humanities. I’d like to be wrong on that. (In the context of undergraduate research, one reader referred to the honors college as a sort of “dating service” that connected ambitious undergrads with the faculty who are eager to work with them. The metaphor is problematic in obvious ways, but it’s also kind of great.)

Finally, Ron Lieber wrote to take issue with my characterization of the way he covered honors colleges in his book, The Price You Pay for College. He denied using the word “traps,” which is true. I should not have used quotation marks. Still, I stand by the substance of my interpretation. Part three of his book is titled “Value: things worth paying for,” and it covers school size, counseling offices, undergraduate mental health centers and “peers worth friending.” Part four offers a contrast; it’s entitled “Money-saving hacks that will tempt you.” Such temptations, in his telling, include community college, honors colleges, military service and gap years. In the context of the overall thrust of the book, as I read it, the “hacks” in question were offered as being much less than they’re cracked up to be, and even potentially dangerous. As someone who has spent the last two decades in the community college world—unapologetically—I was put off by being relegated to the category of “hacks.” There are many paths to success and many definitions of it; better to offer each the respect it is due.

TG doesn’t know where she’ll land at this point. She has yet to hear from several of the places to which she applied. When we have the responses, and the financial offers, on the table, then we’ll have that conversation. But I have to thank my wise and worldly readers for offering much more nuance and depth to the topic than I could bring myself.