
Remarks by Jamie Merisotis, President, Lumina Foundation for Education
Association for Institutional Research’s Annual Forum, Chicago, IL
June 1, 2010
Thank you, and good morning everyone. It’s good to be with you today, and to be part of AIR’s 50th Annual Forum. I want to thank Randy Swing for inviting me to join you here in Chicago.
To borrow from the theme of this year’s Forum, I have to say it really is exciting to be among a group of people dedicated to “charting the future of higher education.” That’s also a familiar place for me to be, because the organization I lead is very much focused on the future of higher education and its role in shaping our social, economic, and cultural well-being as a nation.
I also feel comfortable here today because I feel like I am one of you. I started my career as a researcher. My first job was in the Washington office of the College Board as a policy researcher. Less than a decade later, I started the Institute for Higher Education Policy, a think tank devoted to research and policy analysis.
But let’s be clear: you are real researchers—the people who supply and analyze data to drive institutional change. At this point in my career, I guess you could call me a lapsed researcher, or perhaps even a recovering researcher. As the President of Lumina Foundation, I have to cast my net a bit wider than I used to. Still, I understand and greatly value research and the work you do. I also have great respect for the vital role that research can have on driving substantial change in higher education.
I know many of you are familiar with Lumina, so I will dispense with the description of our origins and work. I will say that as a national foundation we have been fortunate to have had a fairly significant impact on the dialogue about higher education at the institutional and policy levels. Part of that might be attributed to the fact that our billion dollar-plus endowment makes us the single, largest foundation in America that focuses exclusively on getting more Americans into and through college. But I frankly think an even more important reason is that we have pursued our mission in a focused way, working toward the Big Goal that you’ve heard so much about, namely: By the year 2025, we want 60 percent of the American population to hold high-quality college degrees or credentials.
So Lumina is much more than a grantmaking organization. We increasingly recognize that we are a leadership organization, and that leadership has a great deal to do with what we see as our responsibility to fulfill our mission and achieve the Big Goal. So we pursue that mission and goal through a variety of catalytic approaches, ranging from the traditional but extremely important approach of identifying and supporting successful practices … to public policy advocacy … to using our communications and convening power to build public will for change.
As the nation’s leading researchers in the field, you know that right now the percentage of Americans with degrees is approximately 40 percent, and unfortunately the youngest generation is being educated at almost the exact same rate as their parents. In the 21st century, we cannot continue this trend.
We know our goal is ambitious. But we feel that achieving it is vital—truly, a national imperative. What’s more, we’re convinced that it is attainable … so long as we work with a variety of effective partners, and work according to a plan.
But we can’t do it alone. And that’s why I’m here today. I’m here to enlist your help, because, as institutional researchers, you have a big role to play in the national effort to reach the Big Goal. Like Lumina Foundation, researchers are in a terrific position to lead. There are many ways in which you can lead, where you can take the risks that others might not be able to take.
For one thing, institutional researchers have a disproportionate impact on the language we use and on how we analyze and address problems in higher ed. Your work has been influential in helping people understand today’s students, and that has a huge impact on policy decisions.
Here’s a good example of what I mean: The term “nontraditional student” that we use regularly in higher education has its origins in research. What researchers were trying to do when they coined it was to describe the characteristics of students who didn’t fit the norm. The term “nontraditional” came out of research and has had an important impact in helping to define students in specific ways. In fact, many of the constructs we use at the institutional level have emerged from varying efforts to sort data and ultimately make decisions.
For a long time, we have used the term “nontraditional” to describe some of the students we serve. Sometimes you’ll hear them called “underserved,” or even, somewhat more aspirationally, “the emerging majority.”
But that terminology no longer serves us well. More important, it doesn’t serve students well. The language is regressive, because it essentially is deficit language that in fact described the majority of today’s students. That language affects policy decision-making, institutional decision-making and institutional structure. It also suggests that the students we serve today are different … atypical … not normal. Despite our best intentions, such use of terminology leads to broad thinking that those students should be put in a special category, when, in fact, we should be seeing these students as the mainstream.
As you know, the typical college student today is not an 18- to 24-year-old who lives on campus. That demographic makes up less than 20 percent of today’s college students.
So we need to rethink how we describe the students we serve now. At Lumina, we have begun to refer to the students of today as 21st century students. And here’s our rationale.
In many ways, American higher education was built for the 19th century student—some might even say the student of the 18th century. Borrowing its tradition from medieval Europe, the system was designed to educate a favored few: the sons—and yes, back then it was almost exclusively the sons—of the wealthy elite.
Of course this has changed over the decades, most dramatically in the last half of the 20th century, thanks in part to the GI Bill and the development of the community college system. These and many other advances have opened the college doors much wider, to be sure.
Still, even though the number and diversity of students entering the doors of college have increased, significant gaps remain for too many students.And even more challenging is the fact that too little has really changed behind those doors. Our systems, structures and practices have not adapted quickly enough to properly and productively serve this new group of 21st century students … a group more diverse and variable than any 18th or 19th century college professor could ever have imagined.
The 21st century student runs the gamut—racially, ethnically and socially. They’re recent high school graduates and second-career retirees. They’re part-time distance learners and full-time resident students, GED completers, certificate seekers, evening MBA students, and the list goes on. At Lumina Foundation, we think “21st century student” is the most inclusive and best term for addressing this disparate group.
A month ago, I had the privilege of delivering the commencement address at Miami Dade College, the largest college in the nation. Miami Dade has 170,000 students on eight campuses, and less than 10 percent of these students fit the definition of a “traditional” student. This means that 90 percent of these students are 21st century students. What was once nontraditional is now very much the norm—and we need to recognize that fact and act on it.
Coming up with a different way of describing these students is not just a semantic exercise. It has a real impact on decision making.
Consider the financial aid system. The financial aid system is still largely predicated on the idea that the student attends full time. That is a fundamental assumption of many financial aid programs. We don’t take into account immigrant students. We don’t take into account in a meaningful way the child care needs of adult students. There’s some provision for those things, but they are add-ons, not core components. And as add-ons, they are often the first thing to go when economic conditions worsen, or priorities evolve, or leadership changes.
Let me challenge you: In your roles as institutional researchers, you need to be the point of pressure. Don’t leave it to the government or to institutional administrators. You have the power to actually influence decision making. Your opinions are the ones that should be heard in discussions about policy issues like IPEDS and other federal and state-based data systems. You have a way in, because you are the authorities, and history tells us that your work will drive the decisions that ultimately inform the laws and regulations.
Clearly, no one-size-fits-all system of higher education will serve today’s 21st century students. And that means it won’t serve us as a nation. To reach the Big Goal, America needs all kinds of students to succeed, and they must succeed in far greater numbers. That means we need a student-centered system—one that is flexible, accessible, accountable and committed to quality.
Periodically, I come across articles suggesting that we should steer certain students away from college. Let me quote from a May 16 story in The New York Times:
“College degrees are simply not necessary for many jobs. Of the 30 jobs projected to grow at the fastest rate over the next decade in the United States, only seven typically require a bachelor’s degree, according to the Bureau of Labor Statistics.”
That may be true. Not everyone needs a bachelor’s degree. But surely, if we are to remain competitive with the rest of the world, our goal should be to maximize the potential of every person. We need a well-educated, well-prepared workforce that is given opportunities for advancement and fulfillment.
As that New York Times story also noted: “Four years of higher education will translate into a better job, higher earnings and a happier life. … People with college and graduate degrees generally earn more than those without them, and face lower risks of unemployment, according to figures from the Bureau of Labor Statistics. Even those who experience a few years of college earn more money, on average, with less risk of unemployment, than those who merely graduate from high school.”
In other words, despite the confusing and potentially damaging language at the beginning of the article—that “college degrees are simply not necessary for many jobs”—in fact, education beyond high school is no longer a luxury. It’s a prerequisite. Clearly, we need a system that meets each student where he or she is and offers the support needed to succeed. It must ensure quality by fostering genuine learning, not mere program completion. It must truly prepare students for work—and for life—in an increasingly global society.
In short, we need a system that acts as an effective engine for the development of our most precious national asset: human capital.
A quick look at the numbers will demonstrate how desperately we need such a system. Studies by noted labor economist Tony Carnevale predict that, by 2018, 63 percent of all jobs will require some form of postsecondary education or training. Compare that with the mid-’70s, when less than 30 percent of jobs required anything beyond a high school education.
Every person in this room also knows that Census estimates predict that by 2050, the citizens who used to be called “minorities” will constitute the majority of Americans. And in the interim, our school-age population is expected to grow by 19 million … 17 million of whom will be Hispanic. Our own demographics underscore the urgency of developing our human capital engine.
Just to give you an example of the situation in one state: The Public Policy Institute of California reported in June 2008 that immigrants account for 72 percent of all Californians with less than a high school education.
Right now, college attainment rates among many groups of 21st century students—including adults, first-generation college-going students, low-income students and students of color—are significantly lower than those of other students. These achievement gaps, which have endured for decades, are now actually widening.
Clearly, if we hope to prosper as a nation, this can’t be allowed to continue. We must address and overcome inequities.We will certainly fail to reach the Big Goal if we don’t see these students as essential to our efforts to increase college attainment.
Your role as institutional researchers is absolutely critical to that effort. After all, before inequities can be addressed and overcome, they must first be clearly identified and quantified. It is you, in your capacity as IR officers, who play the vital role of pinpointing the gaps in student performance. It is you who make it possible to properly analyze—and to improve—the programs designed to close those gaps.
You are the people—in some cases, the ONLY people—who provide the data and create the context in which progress can be made. We need you desperately.
In higher education today, there is a very real and active example of this type of data-driven work. It’s playing out all over the nation, thanks to an effort that Lumina has long supported and that many of you know well: Achieving the Dream.
Achieving the Dream is dedicated to making the student success agenda a priority at community colleges and with state and national policymakers and stakeholders. The initiative, which recently became an independent nonprofit organization, works to boost student success by providing:
Achieving the Dream is active in 130 institutions in 24 states and the District of Columbia and serves nearly 1 million students. Lumina provided funding for the startup of Achieving the Dream in 2004, and our grants also have included significant support for research—including a three-year, $1.9 million grant to AIR. Your organization is using that money to develop online training courses for institutional research personnel at community colleges.
Achieving the Dream is working at the national and state levels to change priorities, rules, regulations, and resource allocations to make it easier for community colleges to implement practices that improve student outcomes. The goal of Achieving the Dream is to focus colleges and others on understanding and making better use of student outcome data. In so doing, AtD intends to create an education policy environment that encourages innovation and rewards institutions for moving greater numbers of students to degrees and credentials.
I want to be clear about this particular point: Lumina’s aim in Achieving the Dream, and in all of our work toward the Big Goal, is not simply to increase the number of graduates. We want to help foster generations of well-educated students who can make a life as well as a living.
To do this, to attain the Big Goal, we know we need to make steady and simultaneous progress on three fronts: preparation, success, and productivity.
By preparation, we mean that students must be prepared academically, financially and socially for success in education beyond high school. It's important to emphasize that all three areas—academic, financial and social—must be addressed as rough co-equals in the pre-college preparation effort. Research shows that if any of these three aspects is ignored or underemphasized, the road to college becomes very rocky—and, for many, impassable.
When we talk about success, we’re saying that college attainment rates must increase significantly, and that means students must be properly supported so they finish their programs. This includes all of those 21st century students I referred to earlier—not just certain categories or groups.
Finally, by productivity, we mean that higher education must become more efficient, more innovative and more cost-effective. These gains in productivity are vital because they will increase capacity and allow the system to provide high-quality education to many more students.
So, that’s Lumina’s approach: working simultaneously on all three outcomes—and with a variety of partners—as a means of reaching the Big Goal of 60 percent attainment of high-quality degrees and credentials.
And if there’s one thing we have learned in the work we’ve done so far, it is that we won’t reach the Big Goal unless we concentrate now on taking risks that will lead to the dramatic results that are needed. Part of that involves taking the lead in defining and articulating what the outcomes of higher education are and should be. And part of it lies in taking charge of the debate by describing who we are serving—those 21st century students of today and tomorrow, not those of yesterday.
As institutional researchers, we look to you to help refine and clarify the terms of the national discussion about higher education—because we know that the environment will constantly be evolving and presenting us with new challenges. Our nation needs many more highly qualified, college-educated citizens, individuals who are truly and fully equipped for success. You and your colleagues are absolutely critical in this quest. You’ve done it well for decades—and you deserve our praise and thanks for that. But now your work is even more vital, and it is going to grow in importance if we are to truly succeed.
As I’m sure you’ll agree, these are challenges we must meet, not merely for the students themselves, but for all of us as a society.
Thank you for the opportunity to be here, and thank you for the important work you continue to do every day on behalf of our students, our higher education institutions, and our nation.