The Board lost trust in our own education

As a high school student I was well known for my peculiar academic predicament: I loved to research, loved to take on unpopular positions, loved to write, saw everything as political and believed any theory needed to be questioned and taken into the real world. My one problem? I couldn't take a standardized test to save my life. Needless to say, by the time I was to apply to college three different people pulled me aside to tell me about this mythical place called "Antioch." A child of New Yorkers raised in Los Angeles, I agreed to move to Ohio. Prior to 1996, I had never seen a corn field.

Seven years after graduating I now teach college students. I have always created my own syllabus. I have always demanded that we read primary sources. I do not give final exams; my students must make original final projects to prove their understanding of the material. In every lecture, every book choice, every interactive exercise, I can see Antioch's holistic pedagogical imprint. It was not an easy three years at the school - personally or financially - but the expectation of critical thinking, and personal and social integrity that was expected of all students not only shaped me, but continues to shape those whom we, as alumni, interact with daily.

Yes, Antioch is broke. Antioch was always broke. It was always part of the mystique. It was like an urban legend - part of the Antiochian lore - like "not drinking the water" or the "fairies in the Glen."

Antioch taught me that we are all part of the "Bootcamp for the Revolution" but it has failed to have faith in those whom it nurtured. The Board of Trustees was not honest with us. Sending glossy postcards soliciting money doesn't work for us. Speak to us about the real financial crisis. Tell us what you need. You taught us to fight. You taught us to think creatively. We may not have a lot of money but we can help. Instead a decision was made behind closed doors and now, we, as alumni are sitting around our email or our cell phones – scratching our heads and stunned and wishing we could call a community meeting.

P.S. this was Shayna Plaut, '00