The first time I saw the Hampshire College campus was in the winter of 1970. I was a recently minted Ph.D. in history and was excited that I had been invited for an interview to this not yet opened college. I wasn’t sure where to go so I drove up the long driveway only to realize I had reached the unfinished main campus which did not yet house any offices. As I turned to drive back to the road, I looked across Route 116 to the Holyoke range in the distance. There, standing in front of the hills were two beautiful strong trees emerging into view as the clouds lifted after a short rainstorm. “Oh my God,” I thought, “it’s the tree of knowledge and the tree of life.”
And it some ways it was a metaphor for so many things to come. I was hired as a member of the founding faculty and became part of a group building something first envisioned by faculty from the other colleges in our valley and then further fleshed out by Franklin Patterson, the first president. The weeklong orientation for the faculty was organized around the theme of “What is Relevance?” “Imagine,” I told my husband at the end of a long day, “we are solving the question of relevance when we don’t yet know where the pencil sharpeners will be.” It was a heady time.
And then the students arrived. In an instant I realized that I would have the privilege of working with these creative and talented 18-year-olds who had little patience for academic shibboleths. First year students were expected to do a project, which we called Division 1, in each of the interdisciplinary schools. One student said “I will do my projects on boats. I love boats.” How would that work? “Well,” he answered, “there is the physics of boats and ships moving on the water. That’s natural science. For social science, I will research some aspect on the history of shipping, and for humanities and art, I will write about ships in a painting that I love.” My memory might not be perfect after 56 years, but the sense of awe and appreciation I felt for the possibilities of Hampshire remain firmly etched in my mind. These questions from students led us to develop methods for teaching that expanded well beyond conventional ideas of interdisciplinary work.
Over the years as a faculty member and the first Dean of the Faculty, there were many hard times — financial problems, arguments over reappointments and promotions, sit-ins by students who wanted us to make a perfect world and blamed us when we couldn’t. But the passion for good work, the thrill of seeing a shy 18-year-old turn into a remarkable young adult defending a senior thesis with authority and passion, the pleasure of working with colleagues in multiple fields to give new meaning to inter-disciplinary studies is what stands out above all. I remember an advisee of mine returning for a visit some years after he graduated. “I came to tell you that I graduated from medical school and completed my residency.” “Congratulations, that’s terrific,” I said. “No,” he countered, “what’s terrific is that I completed the program with my values still intact. And I thank Hampshire for helping me do that.”
Six years ago, Hampshire faced an existential crisis and almost closed. Thousands of alums stepped forward to prevent that from happening. Remarkable people who had used the creative skills they learned in ways we never dreamed of. Yes, in law and medicine, but also in entrepreneurship and new academic areas and the arts and invention and the world of social justice. It was breathtaking.
This time it was the perfect storm. The decision not to take a new class in 2019 continued to haunt the college. Covid and a hostile environment for higher education in general and alternative education in particular only deepened the problems. A series of admissions and financial crises created a mountain too steep to climb and now the board of trustees felt they had no choice but to close the college.
It’s a great pity that there will no longer be a place where innovation and questioning of educational truisms will be front and center. The smart and creative students will find somewhere else to go, but they might not easily find an atmosphere that celebrates their odd questions, willingness to step outside the lines, their questioning of authority (sometimes annoyingly) to produce work and ideas that no one knew they were capable of.
The announcement of the closing of the college was heartbreaking, but I know the legacy of Hampshire is not yet over. We will continue to learn and benefit from those who helped shape the place over five decades and benefited from that experience. I know I will continue to be touched and impressed by their contributions.
Working at Hampshire for 36 years was one of the great privileges of my life.
Penina Glazer was a founding member of the Hampshire faculty and served as its first Dean of Faculty and Provost.