To Whom It May Concern,
With the tenth anniversary of my graduation upon us, and your constant solicitations for money ever since, I think a full refund of tuition circa 2002-4 is long overdue. Higher education is a business like any other and, in this case, I liken Reed College to Bed Bath & Beyond. What you are selling falls into the ‘beyond’ category; the examined life, a life worth living. Your product is critical thinking (though why someone needs an institution to teach them how to think is beyond me). The great thing about BB&B is that they will refund anything with a receipt no matter how much time has passed, sometimes even without. I trust that you will do the same.
My biggest learning episodes at Reed took place outside the classroom, but there are two key insights that were never mentioned on the green lawns of Woodstock Boulevard: life is all about money and, despite what another infamous Portland author might say, you are your job. If you cannot commodify your passion, whatever that happens to be, it quickly leads to service positions in the hospitality industry. I’ve been known to moonlight as a waiter or bartender and the vast majority of my coworkers are from like-minded liberal arts colleges. Problem is that the current model for elite education (i.e. reading books and talking about them) does not prepare students for any jobs. It does prepare them to serve from the left, clear from the right, and anyone who’s ever worked a day will understand exactly what that means. This is not the good life as promised.
In my experience, individual classes, lessons, and online tutorials prove infinitely more valuable than a full-time degree program at mere fraction of the cost. It did occur to me to visit your career center while going through the motions of writing a senior thesis; I was the only student there and left with suggestion of directing a play someday. Contrary to popular belief, I’m not a theater kid. In society where progress is generally measured by dollars and cents, my Reed diploma would have to be assessed with a negative balance. It’s rarely used in job interviews, much less on assignment, and undergraduate degrees are so commonplace now they barely stand on their own. The most successful Reedies all seem to dropout or never formally enroll in the first place.
That said, I know there are alumni doing notable things around the world. Your magazines and postage paid envelopes always find me, despite the fact that I’ve transferred to more apartments than colleges at this point. But for every token student out there, I’m willing to bet we have many more living in southeast Portland, still drinking PBR. I’ll even wager my refund on it. Again, not asking for room and board since I thoroughly enjoyed the country club lifestyle at Reed; just tuition. The small fortune expended in youth could make a big difference today. I want to get married, buy property, start saving for my child’s education at a large public university or, better still, trade school. It would be nice to make some gesture toward paying back the debt incurred by going to Reed in the first place. I will take a check, though cash is preferred. Your alumni fund knows how to find me.
Regards,
Adam Zuniga
Class of ‘04