I’m on my second tour of duty in rural Iowa. My first academic job—where I was for ten years—was at a fairly well-known small liberal-arts college in the eastern part of the state not far from the population center of Cedar Rapids and the cultural center of Iowa City. Now I’m up near the northwest corner of the state about 2-1/2 hours from both Des Moines and Omaha, Neb., our nearest real metropolitan areas, a far more isolated and rural part of the state.
Thus I have read with great interest the recent essay in The Chronicle Review, “The Rural Brain Drain,” by Patrick J. Carr and Maria J. Kefalas. I have thought at great length about the issues they raise, and have wrestled with my own experiences in rural Iowa for the past two decades. My wife is from near where we are now; after about 20 years away, including stints in a couple of big cities, she is glad to return. On the other hand, I was born and raised in Los Angeles and went to college in its suburbs, so when I moved to small-city Virginia to go to graduate school I felt as though I’d fallen off the edge of the earth.
I have written often and at length here about the challenges of enticing faculty members to come to our part of Iowa. The comments about Carr and Kefalas’s article show why making good hires here can be such a challenge. There is a tremendous amount of anti-rural prejudice in the academy, part of it wholly merited by certain negative aspects of rural life, and part of it more of a reflexive response that dismisses anything aside from culturally sophisticated places like New York City as simply beyond the pale, personally and professionally.
Contrary to those negative sentiments, I actually chose to come back to rural Iowa. Here’s why. First, I believe strongly that my institution offers wonderful opportunities to students from small towns in the area to develop a broader view of the world then they may have had a chance to discover as they grew up. By partnering with community colleges around the state, we are also offering returning students an opportunity to retool, to complete their degrees, and to enrich themselves intellectually and improve themselves economically. We provide a tremendous amount of economic activity in the region, and support the local culture through programming, on-campus events, and other activities.
Rural Iowa is actually very diverse economically, ethnically, and socially. Storm Lake is actually no longer a majority white town, and we have a growing professional class of people from multiple ethnicities. While it’s not the world’s most exciting place—and while I certainly love visiting places like Washington, D.C.; Seattle; and San Francisco—it does have some things going on that make living here at least sporadically quite entertaining. There are a few excellent Asian and Mexican restaurants in town, believe it or not. In addition, we have a beautiful and productive garden on our three acres outside of town, and the barking of our dogs bothers no one. We are considering raising goats and chickens. Our house and acreage cost considerably less than $100,000.
There is surely closed-minded bigotry here. But the worst bigotry I have encountered, by a very considerable margin, was in the largest and most diverse city I’ve lived in since becoming a professor. Some of the most provincial people I have ever met are from New York City—they simply cannot imagine that life is worth living anywhere off of Manhattan Island.
Every day, I feel like we’re building something here. Our students mostly come from small towns within 100 miles or so of campus, and we are sending them all over the world to study, do internships, and learn about other cultures. We hold open doors that they never even saw before they got here, and they joyfully walk through them to exciting and productive lives. Some of them come back to rural Iowa for good, and some never leave. Some go to D.C., or New York City, or Los Angeles, or someplace similar and have great careers.
But like many of my colleagues at similar institutions around Iowa and in other comparably rural places, we will be a key part of whatever happens in small-town America. I’d hope we can plug the brain drain, or at least provide opportunities for those who want to stay to do so on terms under which they can thrive. If that’s something interesting to you, we are hiring.
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9 Responses to The ‘Rural Brain Drain’ and the Academic Job Search
cmsmw - October 1, 2009 at 8:29 am
Nice piece. I too am frustrated by bigotry against rural America in the academy. I live in a fairly large metropolitan area now, but I’ve also spent time in central Iowa and I deplore the prevailing attitude about small towns and people from them (especially about people who don’t express a desire to “get out of Iowa” at the earliest possible opportunity) that I’ve seen from many academics.
greenroof - October 1, 2009 at 11:28 am
I wish I could share in the good feelings and I wish no one offense, but I am at a rural, upper midwest college and I am frequently depressed by the lack of stimulus, the lack of diversity, the lack of opportunity, the lack of quality services,the lack of culture – just generally the lack of a great many “cityfied” things in a college community which consists of a little town in the middle of fields and deserted roadways…our students are generally nice, honest young people, yet they seem cognizant of virtually nothing that is not farm or sports related. I realize that this may sound like “bigotry against rural America,” and it’s not that I think these people here are any better or worse than anywhere else (in fact, in general I find the people in the midwest to be very civil and pleasant) or that I think people are any less knowledgable etc., it’s just that for someone like myself, since I don’t hunt, the country has very little to offer except evening drives around the corn fields and the occasional movie night. I rather imagine that the rural vs. urban debate centers around personality types – if quiet doesn’t bother you, you will probably do okay in the country. No offense to anyone who likes the country lifestyle (good on you if you do), but I have to think that the brain drain has a lot to do with the relative excitement of urban life.And, to be honest, I’m not sure what a young person would do around here with a college degree that is not directly related to agriculture or civil engineering or the like – part of the “rural brain drain” may also have to do with the numbers of college graduates we are producing who want careers in their field.
cmsmw - October 1, 2009 at 1:22 pm
greenroof -You don’t seem to characterize the problem I was describing, in case I came across that way. My problem is with the many people I’ve encountered who stereotype rural Americans and, if they find themselves at a rural institution, make no effort to adapt to the local environment. (More than once I’ve heard people remark that they wouldn’t even want to *visit* certain states.) Nobody can be expected to be perfectly content in every area — I personally enjoy mid-sized “college towns” — but too many highly educated people seem to consider it beneath them to try to enjoy or at least appreciate the places where they find themselves. I don’t get the impression at all that you fit this description. I wish you the best in finding contentment in your living situation, wherever that may be (or turn out to be).
jruiz - October 1, 2009 at 6:56 pm
I think there are downsides to a small, rural school. I taught at one years ago, and was told by a colleague the first couple weeks I was there, that if I wanted tenure or promotion, I would have to join the local Rotary Club or Kiwanis. I asked him what on earth that had to do with my performance as a faculty member, he candidly replied “Absolutely nothing. But that’s the way it is.”I actually loved the school, loved the area, and the people were great. A wonderful relief after having taught in NYC. But such a demand for advancement was a bit too much.
david_r_evans - October 1, 2009 at 7:06 pm
j, I’m the VPAA, for whom there might actually be a reason to join Rotary, Elks, Kiwanis, or some similar organization, and in 15 months no one has even vaguely suggested that I do so. Though I know you don’t intend to do so, you imply that this kind of thing is ubiquitous to small rural schools, and obviously it’s not.However, we’re both debating from a single data point.
frog111 - October 1, 2009 at 9:57 pm
The people who are commenting on this rebuttal piece appear to have NOT read the original brain drain piece. In that piece, it was argued that the best and brightest from small communities often have little reason to return the rural community. The arguments here are about the typical Chronicle reader, most likely an advanced degree in the humanities or arts, who refer to the midwest as flyover country. For these readers, a tenure track job in any rural environment is akin to moving to hell, rather than the broadening and enlightening experience it could be. One has to question who is more intolerant, the local rural inhabitants, or the displaced academic desperate for a tenure track job.
jruiz - October 1, 2009 at 10:48 pm
“Though I know you don’t intend to do so, you imply that this kind of thing is ubiquitous to small rural schools, and obviously it’s not.”Not at all. I believe I specifically referred to the school I was teaching at. I also lauded the school and the area. My son was born there. My point was to bring up what might occur at a small school in a rural area.
laoshi - October 2, 2009 at 10:12 am
I’d move to Iowa to teach, without regret. My parents began their courtship in a small town in Van Buren county, before moving to Chicago. They never lost their connections to Iowa, visiting the countryside for many years. I find the people down-to-earth, intelligent, and receptive to teaching. Not jaded like the city dwellers. And there’s still a lot of houses with unlocked front doors. The only problem I see is that brain drain mentioned in the original article; many young people flee. But go to any college town, such as Iowa City and Fairfield, and you’ll find a good mix of all age groups. Oh yeah, don’t forget the catfish fry!
theoldgeezer - November 14, 2009 at 1:09 pm
As I read and commented on the original article, I feel compelled to respond to this, as well. Read both carefully, and the original premise is that the brightest and most creative of the population from rural areas leaves and moves to the urban areas, leaving the less capable behind – causing an intellectual dimunition of the entire rural intellect and capacity. People ARE gregarious, to some degree at least, by nature. Thus, it is common to seek community, neighbors, and association. By the law of averages, this means the average person is NOT going to, given all other things equal, choose the remote or rural and quiet life. However, this does not inherently create “brain drain”. Instead, academia has centered itself around the notion of “city is better”, and every facet of culture in academia promotes this brain drain, by a million messages, some overt, some covert. I note with some hilarity that one of our local community colleges has a “diversity” celebration and even a student government office devoted to it. Yet, our mix of population and students is such that “white” is barely a majority. We have a natural diversity, but that’s not even recognized. Why? Because “diversity” has come to mean “not what you are or not what you live in” – no matter WHAT that might be. This tiny facet of campus culture, along with a million cultural messages about how your life and culture and status is inferior (not by saying it is, but by implying everything else is superior) turns out people who seek an education to better themselves, but turn out with an indoctrination by academic culture instead, and often leave seeking “conformity” to the culture they have had shoveled at them and force fed for years, often completely integrated into the “learning” that is strictly academic and mixed as part of the database of knowledge one must have to be competent at whatever life skills are being sought. We don’t see degrees anywhere, that have titles such as “Rural entrepreneurism”, or classes named “rural medicine specialties”, or “small town leadership” or any other such academically focused education designed to improve the actual conditions in rural or small town America. Rather, much of college or university academic message is focused on pointing out and avoiding said “deficiencies”. Academia, sadly, hasn’t even the capacity to teach such things. You can’t learn such skills in any university. No great academic minds write books on such things. Instead, it’s purely about specialization and narrow focus – designed to make you a misfit for the needs of rural professionals and thus, seek your future in the city. I run a high tech business, I am a network engineer. But if I showed up on the farm dressed for success, the farmer would laugh me off his property, as unserious about helping him. No, my “dress for success” is to dress in real work clothes, drive a real work vehicle and understand the needs of a rural farmer in terms of how my global networking can benefit him. What university class teaches this? None. Just read the responses to this and the article it is in response to, and notice the not veiled references to many things where rural and small town life is considered ‘deficient’. Entertainment, culture, food, and how many consider these things burdens to be endured until they can be “whole” again in a city. Nothing, however, is going to change, because, as I pointed out, an entire intellectual and cultural shift will have to occur in academia before this can change. Before rural schools start educating to meet the specific needs of the people they serve, before universities turn out people who are masters at and want to be rural entrepreneurs and before the culture on campus neither brainwashes nor indoctrinates that rural and small town living is deficient can any of this change. The entire focus of academia is designed to grab the best and brightest and take them from small town and rural life, and appropriate them for its own benefit elsewhere. It is all fine and good, then, for academics to realize the results of what they have painstakingly shaped and molded for a couple centuries. It is more like intellectual integrity, though, if anything changes. It won’t happen. There is no longer much integrity in academia, who has become far more focused on politics, power, and wealth, than in service to the people they are supposedly attempting to better.