An Enlightening Trip to the Countryside

By Peter Onear

I have an advantage working as the vice president for government relations at a large state university. Actually, four advantages. I have an ego-enhancing high profile in my local community and among a certain group of people at the state level. I have access to a number of pots of money that can be used for staff, expenses, and dues. I have people who report to me about government relations for at least part of their jobs. I make a pretty good six-figure salary.

I just hurt my arm patting myself on the back.

What I'm trying to say here is that I realize I am fortunate to be doing the job I'm doing. It's interesting. It's fun. And I get to travel regularly to bizarre outposts of civilization like Washington.

However, not everyone who works in governmental relations in academe has quite such a grand time. For some administrators, it's not only work; it's also survival. That was brought home to me the other day when I accompanied my president on a trip to visit a suburban community-college president 40 miles away from our campus.

President Smith (not his real name -- but this is a real story) presides over a community college that enrolls about 5,000 full- and part-time students. We toured the very attractive campus with him, met a couple of his senior staff members, and had lunch.

But the pleasant nature of the encounter didn't fool me; community-college campuses aren't happy-go-lucky places. To be sure, two-year colleges are doing God's work educating many disadvantaged students who don't have much money, and struggle to work a few jobs to pay tuition and feed their families.

But the fact of the matter is that most students at community colleges are enrolled there only because (1) their parents and/or spouses are insisting on it; (2) they are unemployed or minimally employed and desperately need some education; or (3) their bosses are making them take classes to stay employed.

There's a certain grimness about most community-college campuses, and I don't mean that as a criticism. Perhaps grimness is an unnecessarily grim word. Nevertheless, students at two-year colleges are serious and purposeful, and have neither the time nor desire to hang out at the student union.

At lunch, I asked President Smith whom he employed to do his government relations. He hemmed and hawed for a minute. I thought, perhaps he's embarrassed that he's in the presence of a real government-relations specialist. But then I realized that it was more likely he was embarrassed to admit he had no government-relations staff. He was forced, by necessity, to stoop to doing government-relations work himself.

President Smith confessed that he regularly went to the State Capitol to plead for funds for his college as well as for other two-year colleges in the state.

Aha, a difference: Community colleges may not be identical with one another, but they see themselves much more as a system or at least peas in the same pod. Unlike state universities, which compete with each other for funds, two-year colleges truly believe that a rising tide raises all community-college boats.

President Smith went on to say that more than half of his college's revenue comes from a county tax levy that he has to constantly watch and protect. Therein lies another difference with big state universities.

Wait a minute. How can I arrange for one of those levies?

He further said that a large chunk of his college's revenue comes from training programs for the employees of local businesses and industries. Yet another difference: Public universities fret regularly about the well-being of their undergraduates, but who cares if students in community-college training programs are happy and well-adjusted? The students just see the training as job security, and their companies are paying the bill.

Can my university get into that business? No, we can't -- because 10 years ago one of the former presidents of my university abandoned community education and business training as beneath the aspirations of a "major research university."

President Smith also reluctantly admitted that his college pays for state lobbyists at the Capitol who, at least once a year, come up with funding for a project or building that more than justifies their fairly modest fee.

Hmm, I'm thinking, what have our lobbyists done for us lately?

All in all, our visit with President Smith was a sobering adventure in learning what community colleges do and what universities don't do. To be fair, community colleges don't have to contend with some of the political pressures inherent with universities.

For instance, President Smith's community college is not surrounded on four sides, as is my more-urban university, with neighbors demanding the many things that neighbors demand. As far as I could tell, President Smith's nearest neighbor is a quite scenic golf course.

Neither are President Smith's local legislators, unlike ours, demanding that his institution produce cutting-edge research that will promote both the local and state economies and create new jobs.

Also, his trustees don't expect multimillion-dollar earmarks to come flooding in from Washington even in the years when there are no earmarks appropriated.

As we returned to our university in the early afternoon, my president and I discussed our visit. Obviously, our purpose in going was to cement our relationship with the college. After all, President Smith sends more of his students to our university to complete their baccalaureate degrees than to any other university.

But it was instructive for us to see that there was much more to the community college than just feeding our university enrollment machine. Sure, it's easier for an institution to handle 5,000 students than 25,000. It's easier to work with a few dozen faculty members than a few hundred. It's easier to maintain five fairly new buildings than 50 mostly old buildings.

However, just because a community college is smaller scale doesn't mean it's less important. And just because the president does his own government relations doesn't mean that he does a less effective job. It was good to get away from our university for a day. Especially when I realized that I needed to return and work harder just to stay ahead of President Smith.