Radcliffe Must Sell Harvard Education in the Provinces

Under the hanging clins of Shepard Street, around the neatly presented lawns of the Quad, a creeping revolution has taken place. The much-lampooned typical Radcliffe girl is a vanishing American. No longer is she is stringy-haired, scrawny thing with, as c. c. Cummings wrote, "her un eyes safely ensconced in thick glass." Jaded Harvard experts testify to her new good looks; a wide-eyed 'Cliffe administration lauds her broadening extra-curricular interests in the tersely-worded paragraphs of official reports.

Yet the administration denies that there has been a change in admission standards. The emphasis on scholastic ability remains. But more often than not, the school girl with the best grades is now the editor of the paper or the president of the student council.

Mrs. Kathleen Eliot, director of admissions for the past nine years and now assistant dean of instruction, says simply that there is "a changing teen-age culture in the United States" which accounts for an increased emphasis on attractive appearance and more well-rounded interests. Guidance programs in the schools are far better than in the past, and the high-school girl now has magazines written for her own age group that tell her how to dress, how to study, and how to behave in society.

I.Q. Higher Each Year

Statistics prove that the Committee on Admissions still considers scholastic ability of paramount importance. The average I.Q. of the entering freshman class has risen each of the nine years that Mrs. Eliot was director.

"If we should want to emphasize other characteristics, how could we go about doing it?" is the stock answer she gives to all accusations that a change in standards has occurred. "It's impossible to judge from participation in extra-curricular activities, because at some schools, it is obligatory for every girl to hold office before she graduates so she can put it on her college record," Mrs. Eliot says. "We're not fooled by that."

But there is another group beside the prodigals--President Jordan calls those in this category his "gambler's group"--whose achievements have not yet equaled their potentialities. He says, "Each year we deliberately gamble on a fair number of young women who may not rank impressively by the criteria we have so carefully established but who none the less seem to the Committee to possess interesting personalities or to have cutting edges to their minds." A four-year study of the "gambler's group" proved they are worth the risk. Their academic record is equal to that of the student body as a whole.

Admissions decisions are made by a committee composed of both Redcliffe officials and outsiders, who are brought in to insure that the local administrators do not cater to any subconscious prejudices. Rejections are especial difficult, for the committee realizes that in most cases they are eliminating choices that could possibly be as valuable for the college as the girls who are accepted. Most applicants these days can meet the academic requirements.

Selecting a class of 250 girls with the qualities that Radcliffe wants is not easy. Now that the college is more than ever a national institution, It is essential that each class have members from every section of the country and from every economic stratum.

And in the last five years, the college has realized that it has a selling job to do. It must make the bright young girl in the Boise high school want a Harvard education.

Radcliffe has built an effective sales team with a one-two punch. The "one" is publicity director Joan Projansky '49, the "two" is dean of college relations Mildred P. Sherman '21. Last winter and spring, Miss Sherman invaded the Wild West preceded by a carefully laid barrage of releases from the publicity office.

Tulsa was typical. Lunch with Tulsa University officials. A speech at a private school. Tea with alumnae. Dinner with principals and college advisers of the high schools. Questions. Answers. Result: applications from a region before almost untouched.

The same pattern was repeated over and over throughout the West.

Two Sales Points

Two sales points are featured. The first is that Radcliffe is a university, not a college like Smith, Vassar, or Wellesley--the three schools most westerners think of first when Eastern education is mentioned. The second is that the Radcliffe-Harvard brand of education is not co-education but co-ordinate education, with Radcliffe remaining an autonomous small college.

Surprisingly, social life does not seem to be a key selling point. A survey made recently indicates that 90 percent of present Radcliffe students are here because of the Harvard faculty.

Seven College Conference

Another aid in drawing students from west of the Mississippi has been Radcliffe's membership in the Seven College Conference. Composed of Wellesley, Smith, Vassar, Barnard, Bryn Mawr, Mt. Holyoke, and Radcliffe, the Conference recruits girls and gives scholarships to all seven schools. The combination was born of necessity; by splitting the cost seven ways, seven times as many girls will hear the gospel. Radcliffe's administration is not altogether satisfied with the Conference, however. Applicants from the West are still largely from private schools, while students from public schools are especially wanted.

But they know there is no panacea for the admissions problem. It is a major feat for a school virtually unknown outside the New England area only ten years ago to become a representative cross section of the country. Yet Radcliffe has come a long way toward accomplishing this. Vigorous administrators are going out and selling a type of education. And they think the market is good.