The Chronicle of Higher Education January 8, 2011 At Paul Quinn, Students Till the Soil to Cultivate a Better College Students at Paul Quinn College harvest spinach in the college's garden. Fresh produce from the garden is sold to people in the college's Dallas neighborhood, which lacks quality grocery stores. In autumn, most colleges' football fields are covered with a thick carpet of grass or artificial turf and are adorned with yard lines. But the football field here at Paul Quinn College was carved up by plowing and planting. This past fall, portions of the college's gridiron were covered with sweet potatoes, watermelons, peppers, rosemary, and sugar snap peas. While organic gardens have become staples at colleges across the country, the garden at Paul Quinn is a special source of pride for many of the 200 students at this historically black college. The fertile football field is the college's answer to the neighborhood's lack of a grocery store. It's also a rallying point in a battle against Dallas's plan to expand a nearby landfill. Most important, the garden has become a symbol of the college's effort to sustain itself after nearly losing its accreditation two years ago amid a host of financial problems. Since then, President Michael J. Sorrell has worked to improve the quality and quantity of students at Paul Quinn, as well as to increase fund raising and corporate support. The efforts have kept the college from failing altogether, though it is still far from thriving. "For us, it is a way to bring to life our mission," Mr. Sorrell said of the garden and the students' activism against the landfill. "We don't have to send you a fancy brochure to talk about leadership; our students are talking it, they're walking it." Paul Quinn College traded its football field for a farm. The college's president had ended the football program: "Were the players graduating? No. Were the majority representing the college in a way that made us proud? No. Were they winning? No." Paul Quinn College traded its football field for a farm. The college's president had ended the football program: "Were the players graduating? No. Were the majority representing the college in a way that made us proud? No. Were they winning? No." Falling Short As challenges go, starting a garden on the campus, even a garden the size of a football field, might seem like small potatoes-especially compared with Paul Quinn's other difficulties. About six weeks after Mr. Sorrell took over as president, in 2007, the college received a letter saying that it was being put on probation by its regional accreditor-it was just one step away from losing accreditation. The accreditor, the Southern Association of Colleges and Schools, had identified dozens of areas where Paul Quinn had fallen short. Two were of particular concern-unstable finances and governance-because they're often indications that a college won't make it. "The letter told me something I already knew: We were not a high-performing school," said Mr. Sorrell, who came to Paul Quinn after a career as a consultant to professional sports teams and corporations. Accreditation from a regional or national accreditor is required in order to receive federal student aid. A serious threat to accreditation often sends an already-ailing college into a downward spiral in which students and members of the staff and faculty flee. That's exactly what happened in 2009, when the Southern Association revoked the college's accreditation and enrollment fell from more than 400 to about 150. The loss of accreditation was brief, however, as a court order temporarily restored the college's status. Paul Quinn remains on probation with the Southern Association, and in 2011 a different accrediting body, the Transnational Association of Christian Colleges and Schools, approved the college. Meanwhile, Mr. Sorrell took a knife to the college's budget and administration, slashing nonessential programs and services. "We approached the institution the same way that you would approach the transformation of a failing business," he said. "We identified core competencies and the areas that we had no business in." Mr. Sorrell outsourced the college's accounting office and other business operations, renegotiated contracts with vendors, put more emphasis on raising money, and increased student costs. Since the 2008-9 academic year, tuition and fees, not including room and board, have gone up nearly 23 percent, to $12,450. On top of that, he cut the football program, which had a dismal record and was losing about $750,000 a year. "When you look at that," Mr. Sorrell said, "you have to say, What is the return on the investment? Were the players graduating? No. Were the majority representing the college in a way that made us proud? No. Were they winning? No." New Growth Paul Quinn's campus is in a southern suburb of Dallas called Highland Hills. The campus is surrounded by modest, and sometimes shabby, single-story ranch houses-a far cry from the glitzy, glass-covered skyscrapers downtown or the wealthy enclaves of Texas-size houses that are portrayed in the popular media. The Mount Tabor Baptist Church is nearby, but so are the E-Z Pawn, lots of fast-food restaurants, and small industrial businesses that rely on the nearby McCommas Bluff Landfill, such as a truck wash and a scrap-metal dealer. But students and college leaders say a big problem for the campus and the surrounding neighborhood is what is missing: a real grocery store. While convenience stores and small grocers carry a few basics, a Wal-Mart that is nearly nine miles from the campus is the closest place to buy fresh, wholesome food. For college students who are still hungry when the dining hall is closed, the convenient choice is to grab a greasy hamburger from a drive-through, rather than make a 15- to 20-minute drive for healthy alternatives, said Patrick Hillard, a senior from Fort Worth who is studying business administration. "I know the midnight-shift worker at Jack in the Box," he said. "I could say, 'Chris, this is Patrick,' and he would know what I will order." The college has tried for more than two years to lure a grocery store to the area by offering free land, but no businesses have taken the bait, said Mr. Sorrell. Frustrated, the president got the idea to turn the unused football field into a garden, and in January 2010 he put Elizabeth Wattley, director of service learning, in charge of the project. A grant from PepsiCo paid for half of the garden's start-up costs, and students have provided much of the labor. Though most of the students and Ms. Wattley had no real experience in agriculture, the garden yielded about 2,500 pounds of food this year, providing produce for the college cafeteria as well as for neighbors-the college donates 10 percent of the produce to the community. Some of the vegetables and herbs have been sold to Dallas restaurants and to chefs for the Dallas Cowboys. Not More Trash Another challenge for the college emerged in September, when the city council passed an ordinance requiring all of Dallas's trash to be brought to the city-owned landfill nearby, instead of to the nearly dozen privately owned landfills around the region. The measure is expected to generate an extra $18-million annually in fees for the city. The city approved the measure despite opposition from the National Solid Wastes Management Association. The group has filed a lawsuit to halt the requirement, which it argues will significantly increase costs to garbage haulers. Meanwhile, Paul Quinn's students and administrators argue that the new law will also increase traffic, noise, and pollution near the campus, and will bring more of the kinds of trash-related businesses that are already in the neighborhood, ratherthan the mix of companies that would really benefit the area. Dexter Evans, a junior majoring in legal studies, noted that the city had not done anything to improve access to healthy food, but was willing to send more trash to the community. "The trash has to go somewhere," he said. "But if you're going to put this extravagant dump here, let the rest of the neighborhood thrive." The city has tried to quell the controversy with a million-dollar economic-development fund for the neighborhood, but Mr. Sorrell said that there was no clear focus or oversight for managing that money. The college president has tried to turn the fight into a teachable moment, and he has worked alongside students to rally the campus and the community around the cause. Over the summer, more than a dozen students joined about 200 neighborhood residents to organize opposition. In October scores of students and residents protested at a city-hall meeting, and a march in November attracted about 500 students and community members. So far, however, the city has refused to budge. While Paul Quinn may well lose its battle with the city, the fight has attracted some positive attention for the college, which is improving its financial situation. Fund raising has increased from about $550,000 in the 2007 fiscal year to nearly $4-million in 2010. That included a $1-million gift meant to pay for demolishing more than a dozen campus buildings that were not in use, a step that will reduce the college's maintenance costs. But Paul Quinn's troubles remain significant. It has been on the Education Department's list of financially troubled institutions since at least 2006. And nearly 40 percent of students default on their student loans within three years of graduating, according to federal data. Most troubling, enrollment has increased by only 50 students since the college nearly lost its accreditation in 2009, and is now a little more than 200, a number that's difficult to sustain, especially with an endowment of less than $3-million. "We know you can't strive to be a 200-person school," Mr. Sorrell said. "We need to communicate hope. There really isn't a track record of institutions' doing what we're doing." SANDRA M. PHOENIX Executive Director HBCU Library Alliance sphoenix@hbculibraries.org<mailto:sphoenix@hbculibraries.org> www.hbculibraries.org<http://www.hbculibraries.org/> 404.592.4820 Skype:sandra.phoenix1 1438 West Peachtree Street NW Suite 200 Atlanta, GA 30309 Toll Free: 1.800.999.8558 (Lyrasis) Fax: 404.892.7879 www.lyrasis.org<http://www.lyrasis.org/> Honor the ancestors, honor the children.