These words evoke images of quaint communities and velvet robes of the academy in thoughtful coexistence. Yet the flesh and blood reality of any relationship between a diverse town (i.e., city officials, community leaders, and residents with demographic influences related to socioeconomics, politics, religion, ethnicity, age, etc.) and a gown (i.e., a college or university replete with distinct attributes derived from institutional heritage and mission as well as community makeup) provides a window into the complexity involved in defining the scope of the exchange.
Often unions of paradox, such partnerships are wrought with challenge and intricacy based on vying viewpoints. Most, if not all, towns contend with the competing value of an elevated reputation and recognition derived from being home to a university versus the perceived cost affiliated with goals related to increased enrollment and construction plans. On the university side, administrators bristle at the seeming lack of the town’s willingness to comprehend the intrinsic value of the university and its commitment to local issues by virtue of proximity and outreach efforts.
Although aware of the prestige and perks offered by the university or college, townspeople are frequently annoyed by students who may be boisterous, incensed about building sites that contribute nothing to the city’s tax base, and aggravated by traffic gluts created by large bodies of students and faculty. Conversely, people in higher education institutions may feel the townspeople exhibit antagonism, do not appreciate their efforts to educate the populace, frequently do not support the college’s events or athletic offerings, and do not offer students or faculty special services.1
How then can any city and institution of higher education forge mutually beneficial ties that speak to shared vision rather than self-serving agendas? How can both remain authentic to mission and committed to engagement?
For nearly 800 years, local politicians and campus leaders have attempted to answer these questions. The earliest descriptions of the town and gown relationship date back to 1249 and are characterized by rivalry, violent clashes, and looting.2 An infamous altercation between University of Oxford students and residents of the city that now bears the same name occurred on February 10, 1354, beginning with earnest celebration and ending in the death of several young people and ransacking of the colleges.3 Today’s town and gown landscape looks far calmer, but the issues that bind as well as divide are multifaceted. Beyond the tension that arises over a bustling campus, rancor erupts over the “perceived walls dividing insulated centers of higher learning (the ivory towers of the academia, the bubble) from the ‘real world’ of everyday life.”4 College critics also point to schools’ tax-exempt status (a real sore spot), classifying the standing as a free ride that reaps financial benefits for the institution without legitimate community activism or the application of university expertise to matters beyond the campus’ confines.5 Personalities can also fuel friction between municipality and university.
In response, academic representatives quickly cite the institution’s positive economic impact on the town. Although exempt from property taxes, Pennsylvania’s Bucknell University boasts about the almost $2 million paid in state income, local wage, and some property taxes on property not used for educational purposes, and estimates that as the city of Lewisburg’s second-largest employer, direct expenditures exceed $80 million.6 The University of Southern California’s figures are even more robust: $3 billion annually.
Economic impact aside, alleged elitism together with visible expansion efforts strain even the best relationships. Consider when Boston University, Boston College, and Northeastern University, Boston, attained national prominence in the 1970s and ’80s and embarked on aggressive development endeavors, displacing area residents and businesses in the process. “It wasn’t a case of [schools] simply moving into a neighborhood and becoming part of it – it was taking people who lived there and moving them out,” said Thomas O’Conner, noted Boston historian and Boston College professor.7 Similar scenarios played out across the country and continue to this day in Atlanta, Georgia, and Boulder, Colorado, among others.8
But many college presidents are committed to changing this assessment, enacting approaches that champion good stewardship, or as William Hednut III, senior resident fellow at the Urban Land Institute in Washington, DC, calls “good cityship.”9 Fashioning strong and mutually supportive connections with the community is feasible, according to Steven Sample, Ph.D., president of the University of Southern California, when following a few simple principles:
The first is having the willingness on both sides to make a full-fledged, no-holds-barred commitment to partnership. The second is localizing and focusing community outreach. The third is having a well-thought-out strategy. The fourth is having mutual respect for each other. And fifth is having a dash of entrepreneurial spirit looking for new ways to solve old problems, and taking some risks in doing so.
“Our neighborhood effort is not a matter of noblesse oblige,” said Sample. “Rather, it is an approach that says: We live here together. We are neighbors. We have some resources that can help the neighborhood.
