Most high school seniors have extensive lists of requirements for potential colleges: location, cost, class sizes, major offerings. While I looked for colleges two years ago, all of those variables were important, but I seemed to have one other prerequisite: a Presbyterian heritage.
When I was asked what I was looking for in a school, I rarely started with the Presbyterian qualifier, but those interested noticed a pattern quickly enough. “Well,” I’d say, “I’m looking at (different schools).” And, although each institution has a reputation for academic excellence, the unique common denominator was that of a relationship, whether active or more nominal, with one particular denomination– my own.
My eagerness to attend a Presbyterian college may seem to have an obvious explanation. As the daughter of a Presbyterian minister (Warrensburg, Mo.), the familiarity of my home denomination’s theology and practices seemed comforting as I planned to live on my own for the first time. Plus, occasional scholarship breaks for PKs didn’t hurt.
In all honesty, however, there was another, more practical reason for narrowing my search to Presbyterian colleges. It simply made the list of possibilities somewhat more approachable. With hundreds of options, choosing a college seemed an overwhelming prospect, particularly since I was unsure of my career path. By saying “Presby-only,” my list seemed reassuring and workable. It also seemed the perfect match for a person who proudly remembers the moment she learned to spell P-R-E-S-B-Y-T-E-R-I-A-N at the age of five.
But then the decision-making moment arrived. And I enrolled in a Baptist school.
A moment of insanity? During a number of my hardest finals, I’ve wondered if my decision to attend William Jewell College in Liberty, Mo., was just that. But no, I’m confident that enrolling in the historically Baptist college was the right decision for me, albeit a surprising one.
In the end, I chose Jewell for all the reasons that were on my original list. It was close enough to home that I could make emergency trips, but far enough away that my parents wouldn’t make surprise visits. Financially, it was a great deal (and those charitable Baptists even provide scholarships for non-Baptist ministers’ dependents). The academic rigor, particularly in my areas of interest–communication and political science–was enough to convince me that this was the school for me.
But I wasn’t swayed immediately. After making the Presbyterian connection a priority in my search, I found that the major holdout in choosing Jewell was that the college seemed “too much like church camp.” Having a Christian foundation seemed a supportive environment for a college setting, but I feared that Jewell’s commitment to “the ideals of Christ” might conflict with the academic world. Would, for example, my science class, much like the neighboring state of Kansas, avoid any discussion of evolutionary theory? Would other students keep track of my Thursday morning chapel attendance? And, most important in my opinion, would students of other faiths feel like respected equals on our campus?
Obviously, any religiously-affiliated institution would face similar issues, but I wasn’t sure what to expect from the Baptist college. By mere coincidence, William Jewell’s relationship with the Missouri Baptist Convention, an organization of Baptist churches that accounted for $1 million each year of the college’s budget, was receiving in-depth coverage in the Kansas City Star that year. As I pored over articles and editorials during the spring of my senior year, it became apparent to me that the college’s strained relationship with the conservative convention might signify exactly what I was looking for as I continued my education.
While some of my friends and family suggested that Jewell’s appeal stemmed from a desire to see my own, more liberal views realized at the college, I think it was the exact opposite. Rather than the comfort of entering an institution with values similar to my own, it was the active discussion and lively debate regarding personal freedom and Christian duty that made William Jewell’s education seem right for me. Now, I realize that every Presbyterian college would have students with all sorts of viewpoints, but witnessing William Jewell make history as the college struggles to establish its Christian identity was an opportunity I couldn’t ignore. And now, after an official split from the MBC in the fall of 2003, the college’s continuing relationship with the American Baptists suggests the next chapter in William Jewell’s history.
William Jewell College certainly has its faults. As a campus, we still struggle to work toward inclusion and respectful debate on a variety of religious and social issues. The college also is not the place for every Presbyterian student out there. But as I prepare for my junior year, I feel confident that life at Jewell has been the right “next step” in my faith journey.
And maybe it’s just because I still somehow yearn for the Presbyterian connection that has grounded me for so long, but I’m pretty sure I’m finding all sorts of Presbyterian-isms at Jewell. There may not be too many John Knox posters scattered around campus, but the combination of committee work and Scottish bagpipes during special events make me feel right at home.
Emily Wales is a student at William Jewell College in Liberty, Mo.
