After Remus enacted academic probation (in 2016!!), there were severe consequences. One hundred twenty-five students failed to survive their probation period, so the school was threatening to send them home. This number amounted to almost ten percent of the student body. As a temporary bandage, Dr. Stalwart initiated a “Second Chance” program for students who showed some semblance of progress. The program needed a better name like “Last Resort,” maybe “Do or Die,” or possibly “Get Your Act Together.” Second Chance made it sound like they made a mistake when, in reality, they failed spectacularly. These students should have been released, but the need to keep bodies around to pay the light bill outweighed that moral decision.

This program could potentially save about two-thirds of the students about to be dismissed. Students who showed an iota of motivation were selected for the program. In other words, if students received a D in First-year Experience but failed every other class, they were eligible. These “special cases” were given a faculty mentor to help them get back on track. I was assigned two of these students, and I never heard from either. I emailed and called them numerous times. Still, I only received a recorded message that the phone number was no longer in service. The program barely lasted eight weeks, as no student attempted to contact their mentor. The idea wasn’t bad, and it might have worked if students and mentors had met face-to-face before the semester.

With the Second Chance program failing and retention worsening, the powers at Remus concocted a program that made sense and could succeed if implemented correctly. The initiative was called the Remus Institute of Potential. The idea behind the program was to work closely with incoming students to get them through their first two years since that was where the largest student loss occurred. The project was initially successful under Dr. Fredrick’s direction. She treated all the students like her children. Please don’t take this to mean she was doling out sunshine, rainbows, and puppies. In fact, her mothering style was more like that of Richard Roundtree – she was the baddest mother around. She demanded her children abide by a strict structure, or they would feel her wrath. Her demeanor is also part of the reason why some students called the program RIP: if you didn’t do what Fredrick asked, you might as well fake your death to save your skin from her retribution. Yet, under her leadership, retention numbers steadily went up. In the first year alone, the number of returning students under 60 credit hours went from 23 percent to 36 percent.

Things were looking up as students got proper guidance and figured out what they needed to do to succeed in the academic environment. The student body was stabilizing, and the need to procure warm bodies became less pressing. Student retention continued to trend upward until Fredrick received a call to serve as president of another institution on the East Coast. Things took a turn when Dr. Michaels took over the program. Michaels had a motherly way of caring for her students, but it starkly contrasted with how Fredrick kept the children on the straight and narrow. Michaels was known for passing students in her classes with a C even if they never set foot in her classroom. Her handling of students did not support the program’s success, and soon the numbers began to fall again. This shift contributed to Remus’s further decline, as even the warm-body strategy failed to bring in enough future dropouts to keep every program running at capacity. The only thing that saved Remus was the pandemic and the emergency funds the government gave the school.

I submit that the source of all small college plights is money. Getting butts in seats is one thing, but once they get planted, something has to happen for them to take root academically. Accepting anybody off the street works for community colleges because they have public funding. Private schools do not have that luxury. If the administration doesn’t handle the recruiting aspect of the job properly, the rest of the school will suffer. If a school adopts the warm-body strategy, it must have a robust support system to keep students academically qualified. Without it, the whole operation becomes an exploitative endeavor: students come in with a dream and leave with debt because nobody has sat down with them to explain how the college environment works. Even with proper support systems, students will still fall by the wayside for reasons beyond our control. The entire institution is responsible for keeping students invested. Otherwise, the whole structure crumbles and young people have one less opportunity to stretch beyond their expectations. If small schools regularly went through deep, analytical reflection, they would find ways to keep things fresh for students instead of relying on traditions to get them through. Staying put is the fastest way to wither and die. If Remus is not careful, it will suffer a similar fate.