When colleges close, the void they leave behind is more than just physical. It’s a ripple effect that touches communities, economies, and even cultural identities. Vermont, a state known for its picturesque landscapes and tight-knit towns, has become a fascinating case study in this phenomenon. Since 2018, seven colleges have shuttered, merged, or reorganized, prompting a wave of repurposing efforts that range from the spiritual to the luxurious. But what does this transformation really mean? And what does it reveal about the evolving role of higher education in America?
The Rise of the Unlikely Phoenix
One of the most intriguing developments is the reincarnation of Green Mountain College into a Christian institution, Z University. Personally, I think this is a striking example of how institutions can be reborn in ways that reflect shifting societal priorities. Whiskey mogul Raj Bhakta’s decision to donate the campus to Evangelist Tommie Zito isn’t just a real estate transaction—it’s a statement about the values he believes should anchor ‘Western Civilization.’ What makes this particularly fascinating is the contrast between Vermont’s reputation as one of the least religious states and Zito’s ambition to spark a ‘Third Great Awakening’ here. It’s a bold move, but one that raises a deeper question: Are we seeing a resurgence of religious education as a counterbalance to secular trends, or is this just a niche experiment?
From my perspective, this repurposing also highlights the tension between preserving history and embracing change. The campus, with its historic buildings, is now a vessel for a mission that couldn’t be more different from its original purpose. What this really suggests is that the identity of a place is never static—it’s shaped by the people and ideas that inhabit it.
Luxury Resorts and the Economics of Revival
On the other end of the spectrum is the transformation of Southern Vermont College into a luxury resort. This feels like a quintessential example of how economic pragmatism often drives these repurposing efforts. The developers’ vision of a Nordic spa and gilded-age mansion turned resort is undeniably ambitious, but it’s also a calculated bet on tourism. What many people don’t realize is that these projects aren’t just about creating jobs—they’re about redefining what a community can be. A resort might not replace the intellectual vibrancy of a college, but it can inject new life into a struggling town.
However, I can’t help but wonder if this is a sustainable model. Luxury resorts are inherently exclusive, and while they may boost the local economy, they don’t necessarily foster the same sense of community that a college does. If you take a step back and think about it, this is a trade-off between cultural preservation and economic survival—a dilemma many rural towns are facing.
Arts Hubs and the Creative Economy
Then there’s the artistic rebirth of campuses like Goddard and Marlboro, now hubs for residencies, workshops, and performances. This feels like a more organic evolution, one that aligns with Vermont’s reputation as a haven for creativity. What’s especially interesting here is how these spaces are being reimagined not just as venues, but as ecosystems for artists. It’s a reminder that colleges, at their core, are places of inspiration—and that doesn’t have to end when the degrees stop being awarded.
But here’s the thing: while these arts hubs are culturally enriching, they often rely on nonprofit models, which can be fragile. One thing that immediately stands out is the need for sustained funding and community support. Without it, these spaces risk becoming beautiful but underutilized relics.
The Workforce Gap and the Future of Education
The Greenway Institute’s plan to launch a debt-free engineering school in Montpelier is perhaps the most forward-thinking of these repurposing efforts. It’s a direct response to Vermont’s aging population and the mismatch between its workforce and in-demand jobs. Personally, I think this is the kind of innovation higher education desperately needs. By integrating work experience and stripping away extraneous amenities, Greenway is reimagining what a college can be—and who it can serve.
What this really suggests is that the traditional college model is no longer tenable for many communities. As enrollment declines and costs rise, institutions will need to adapt in ways that align with local needs. But this raises a deeper question: Are we moving toward a future where colleges are less about broad education and more about vocational training? And if so, what does that mean for the liberal arts?
The Bigger Picture: What’s Lost and What’s Gained
Denise Smith, executive director of the Vermont Council on Rural Development, asks a critical question: ‘Did we ever consider or value what these institutions were giving or providing to the state of Vermont while they were here?’ This hits at the heart of the issue. Colleges aren’t just buildings—they’re catalysts for intellectual, cultural, and economic growth. When they close, the loss is immeasurable.
But the repurposing efforts also reveal something hopeful: communities are resilient. Whether it’s through religious revival, luxury tourism, artistic expression, or workforce training, these towns are refusing to let their campuses become ghost towns. What makes this particularly fascinating is how each solution reflects the unique needs and values of its community.
In my opinion, the real challenge isn’t just about finding new uses for old buildings—it’s about reimagining what these spaces can contribute to society. As Vermont navigates this transition, it’s setting a precedent for other regions facing similar crises. The question is: Will we learn from this evolving art of transformation, or will we repeat the mistakes that led to these closures in the first place?
Final Thoughts
The story of Vermont’s shuttered colleges is a microcosm of broader trends in higher education and rural America. It’s about loss, but also about reinvention. It’s about the tension between preserving the past and building the future. Personally, I think the most important takeaway is this: the value of a place isn’t fixed—it’s what we choose to make of it. As these campuses take on new lives, they remind us that even in decline, there’s an opportunity for rebirth. The question is, what kind of rebirth do we want to see?
