Monday, Nov. 30, 1981

Those All Male Alma Maters

By Claudia Wallis

Those All-Male Alma Maters

A handful of U.S. colleges that didn't go coed

It is homecoming day at Virginia's Hampden-Sydney College, and the playing field, ironically called Death Valley, is alive with the old-fashioned spirit of amateur competition. No TV cameras or pro scouts here. Sprawling on the sidelines, students and alumni sip beer, bloodies and bourbon as the home-town Tigers are tamed 7-6 by the Generals from Washington and Lee. It seems a perfect postcard of an all-American scene. But look a little closer. A few details are amiss. The pep band in the stands has only male members. There is not a curvy cheerleader in sight.

Welcome to a world where only men are usually welcomed. Hampden-Sydney (enrollment: 770) and Washington and Lee (1,332) are among the nation's oldest colleges. The first was established six months before the Declaration of Independence; among its founding fathers: James Madison and Patrick Henry. The second, dating from 1749, was endowed by George Washington himself and later headed by Confederate General Robert E. Lee.

Both schools are proud of their traditions and uncommonly true to them. They have never gone coed or been closely affiliated with a women's college. Today, only three other secular, four-year liberal arts colleges can make the same claims: Wabash College (enrollment: 780) in Crawfordsville, Ind., and two state-supported military schools, the Citadel in Charleston, S.C., and Virginia Military Institute in Lexington, Va.

All five are survivors of the 1960s sexual revolution in education, which was powered by the women's movement and the notion that coeducation provides a more "natural" setting for learning. One male bastion after another opened its doors to female students: Yale, Dartmouth, Princeton, eventually even West Point. For the remaining handful of all-male schools, the next few years were very hard indeed. Washington and Lee, in 1978, had to accept 70% of its applicants to fill a class of 380, and the average SAT test scores for entering freshmen were at a low point. The war in Viet Nam and pacifism at home made things even worse for military-oriented institutions. The Citadel almost closed down one of its four barracks in 1974. At V.M.I., Admissions Director Colonel William Buchanan concedes, "the bottom fell out."

The outlook for the all-male colleges is far brighter today. At Washington and Lee, applications are up 40% since 1978. The Citadel has seen a 63% increase in a single year. Quality of incoming freshmen has also improved. At V.M.I., for instance, the average 1981 combined SAT score has jumped to 1,048--36 points higher than it was a decade ago and well above the national average of 890. This fall 18 National Merit Scholars matriculated at Washington and Lee; three years ago there were only three.

How did they do it? "By holding the line," snaps Colonel Dennis Nicholson, a vice president of the Citadel. "We didn't alter a thing." Academically that is true. What most of the five schools did do, however, was to sell prospective students and parents harder on the traditional virtues of the small, all-male college. Among them: a teacher-student ratio of 12 to 1 or better, a conservative curriculum (Hampden-Sydney was the last U.S. college to drop its classical language requirement) and sport programs in which, as W. & L. Admissions Director Bill Hartog puts it, "you don't have to weigh 250 pounds and run a four-second 40-yard dash to play football."

Harder to define, but powerful, is the pull of fraternal camaraderie. "The guys at all-guys' schools seem a lot closer," observes W. & L. Junior Sparky Anderson. Others enjoy maintaining a certain formality, sartorial and otherwise, with the opposite sex. Says Art and Politics Major Steve Andrews: "I like the idea that when a girl walks on campus, she's wearing a skirt."

Those seeking the rigors of a military education express relief at being able to "forget about girls and the outside world," as Harry Bitzberger, president of the V.M.I, graduating class puts it.

Says he: "There are enough strains on you here already." Indeed, V.M.I, students are still expected to toe the traditional rat line, a punishingly rigid code of behavior made famous by the 1938 movie Brother Rat (featuring Ronald Reagan). The Citadel has only slightly eased its own version of the code. At meals, for example, freshmen, or "knobs," are no longer required to sit at attention and request each helping from an upperclassman.

Despite their apparent comeback, debate on whether or not to admit women continues, though less hotly at the two military schools. There, cadets tend to agree with a vehement V.M.I, official: "There is no such thing as a Sister Rat, and there never could be." At the other schools, opinion is divided. By one estimate, 60% of the students at Wabash are against coeducation, the faculty is split evenly, and alumni are 95% opposed.

Washington and Lee Religion Professor Lou Hodges is among those who are "now and forever hoping that we would become coed." At all-male colleges, contends Hodges, "women are seen as a source of entertainment and pleasure, something one consumes as one consumes sports cars." Hodges also believes that women make a positive contribution in the classroom, both because they add to the diversity of viewpoints and, he says, because they tend to take their schoolwork more seriously than men. Hampden-Sydney Junior Tom Robinson agrees: "All-male schools breed bigots and chauvinists."

These points are disputed by the defenders of unisex education on grounds that coeducation provides the wrong sort of competition in class, and too much sexual distraction elsewhere. Argues Hampden-Sydney Professor Alan Farrell: "You cannot deal with abstractions in the presence of your sexual half." Biology Professor William Shear was a staunch proponent of coeducation when he came to Hampden-Sydney. Now he is convinced that "good students are more likely to reach their potential" and shy ones to learn to express themselves, when there are no women around. Comments from a number of students seem to support Shear's view. "When there are girls in the classroom you're afraid to participate," says Hampden-Sydney Sophomore Mike Marousek. Adds Junior Chip Morton: "Here, you don't have to impress anybody."

Women's colleges also experienced difficulties during the coed revolution. But many of them survived because, unlike all-male schools, they had little trouble articulating a reason for being. Studies by Radcliffe's Matina Horner and others suggest that women do not have the same opportunities, or do as well academically, when they share classrooms with the opposite sex. The same may be true for men. Writes Educator Alexander Astin in Four Critical Years: "Students of both sexes become more academically involved, interact with faculty more frequently, show large increases in intellectual self-esteem."

At the heart of the debate, however, there may be as much sentiment as pedagogical fact. Hampden-Sydney President Josiah Bunting III speaks of "a certain ease, a familiarity, a want of sexual tension from Monday to Friday night that I find altogether healthy and inspiring." But he adds, "There are no data to prove that because a college is all-male then certain benefits accrue to its graduates." What it boils down to, he confesses, "is we like being all-male.''

--By Claudia Wallis. Reported by Anne Constable/Atlanta

With reporting by Anne Constable/Atlanta

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