Vermont - Green Mountain College

There were no rainbow flags when I attended. 

I attended Green Mountain College in Poultney, Vermont my first year of college. I recently learned the school is ceasing to operate as a college after a 185-year history. I will share my time in Vermont, not so much to "memorialize" my year of education there; in fact some of my experience is part of my permanent scarring which I will reveal, but that year was formidable in positive, negative and just realistic ways. I did a lot of growing at GMC and not really because of the school at all.

My Mother and I did a tour of New England colleges in the fall of my junior year of high school. This was a rite of passage, certainly a tradition in our family and as important, if not more, to my Mom as to me. I still remember leaving Morristown, New Jersey on I-287 North, connecting to the New York State Thruway and working our way into New England. I remember the Trip-Tik that I had gotten from AAA and all the maps, which were something I loved and collected as an earlier kid. Remember, we had no GPS. I have images in my head and the actual images in storage, of bed & breakfast inns, country shops and frigid coastlines in Maine. We did this tour in late fall and my Mother's late 80's LeBaron convertible was not a brilliant idea. It was in the teens to 0 at a couple places and as fun as that car could be, it did not fare well in wind-blowing cold.

My Mom always had "whitewall" tires but that is the car. 

Rather than walk through all of this journey, I will skip to arriving in Poultney, Vermont. First, we have family history here. My parents met at this school. My Mother attended Green Mountain College her first year before transferring to the University of Pennsylvania. Back then, they only gave the SAT twice a year and she missed them due to illness, and while she had outstanding grades, was a state record swimmer and on the Olympic team, she needed a school that would accept her without the test. I believe Green Mountain was a girls-only school when she attended. I recall her saying her bridge game improved dramatically during her time there. The Dean of Students when she was there in 1960 was still there almost 30 years later and still remembered her. It only was always a small school, with some 500 students when I attended. The campus was classic New England with red brick colonial buildings, lots of tall old trees, acreage, and was in a small town. But it was archaic, even for the time. There was no cable TV in the dorm rooms, with only one TV in the basement. I had a television but reality was nearest TV stations were in Albany and Burlington, each over 75 miles away. Rabbit ears didn't really cut it. Never mind you were not getting your MTV. Your entire dorm shared a payphone. Each dorm had 3 floors, each room most often having a roommate. You were not able to get your own phone line. Cell phones were not quite there yet and certainly not a college kid commodity. But some picture in my mind began to roll and I proclaimed to my Mother at dinner that evening "I have to live here. It's like being in a foreign country." I have a feeling millenials  and GEN Z kids would look and think very differently. If they want remote, they want Africa or South American rain forests, not northern New England. They want the real deal as long as they have internet.

I first went back to Green Mountain College by myself in late summer for some testing. I was greeted by Jimmy Hendricks, the Asst. Dean of Admissions I believe was his title. Jimmy couldn't have been 10 years older than me most likely. I was 18, so an adult. But, as he noted, I had yet to matriculate into the school. He was of authority, I was barely an adult by 2 months and a yet to be student. He was living in a combined two dorm room suite for the summer. I told him I was going to take off and see Lake George. He said to stop by his place later. I asked him if he liked Bailey's. Never mind it was illegal for me to have it. He said it was fine. I perfectly knew this wasn't a mentoring meeting, or was it? We got incredibly high on either hash or pot (definitely not within any guidelines) and did a good job on that Bailey's. We proceeded to have what I recall as a pretty intense sexual encounter. It had quite an impact on me. Bullied and not always popular, fucking with the BMOC (big man on campus) - certainly the most desired staff member of the small college - all while I was debating my "coming out" was affirming. He was sexy, charming, "good stock" and "well-bred" and my guess had likely "not lived up to the expectations" of his parents and had found this rather perfect gig isolated in the middle of nowhere, yet near everywhere in the Northeast. Perfect fit for the admissions office at GMC greeting mostly students that hadn't also quite found their place. Kids that were good enough for college, but something was holding them back generally from being elsewhere. These could be learning disabilities to self-inflicted party syndrome. I had other options, but decided this was the place. I wanted to return to a smaller school having left a private school after 10th grade for a very large public school. I think also that the idea that my parents met there was nostalgic, even if they separated during my year there. I had always lived in major metropolitan areas so country living might serve me well.  It started with Jimmy. It was all like I was sold a 'bait and switch' when I think about it. The thrill was short-lived.

From the moment I walked out of Jimmy's door, it was a major mistake to have spent the evening with him. I had felt desired and it was made clear to me before I left that this wasn't to be continued. He went out of his way to ignore me other than the simple, mandatory "hello" from the moment I arrived in September. It hurt and pissed me off. It further degraded me. I was mature for my age, but I certainly didn't have it all figured out.

I tried to immerse myself in life in Vermont. My 1st week there I went canoeing with large numbers of new students though I seemed to be the idiot that always tipped the canoe; not sure if I didn't do so intentionally. I wasn't big on quarry jumping. Diving into slate seemed a bit idiotic. Plus, I have always been accident prone. I did some not be a total wimp, but sure enough we had multiple kids off to the hospital. Cow tipping just seemed mean and gross. Fields of shit in the dark and pushing over smelly, innocent animals - no thanks. A big group started stealing road signs. This became very problematic on twisting, winding dark, narrow roads in Vermont and literally caused at least one fatal accident. That brought the Vermont State Police into our dorms and they literally ransacked each and every one of our rooms. At least 3 kids were arrested that day, including a couple of shit-heads. I smiled happily as they were handcuffed and walked out of the building. I am sure at least 2 of them also were behind my stereo system being stolen during the holiday break. The school wouldn't even let me file a police report about it saying it was my fault for leaving it during the holidays. What a bunch of bullshit! I got into skiing but broke my collar bone and dislocated my shoulder putting me out of commission by winter break. If you don't ski in the 6 months of winter in Vermont, the year gets real long, real quick.

I did get a job freelance writing for the Rutland Herald, the 2nd largest paper in Vermont. I wrote the first article on college AIDS policies in New England colleges, that being my biggest accomplishment. I rather enjoyed creating controversy when I covered a town hall and reported what a school principal or superintendent (it's been a long time) had said after some school vandalism occurred and he said I misreported his words, which I most definitely did not and was backed up by local residents.

Final Commencement Article in the Rutland Herald. The paper seems to have survived.

I spent time talking to locals, mostly getting served at a bar over the state line, walking distance in New York. The drinking age changed that year and GMC provided the bar in Poultney with a list of everyone who made the "cut off," which I did not, but I had a good fake ID doctoring my old  Michigan license. I met many farmers who had moved from places like New Jersey because they couldn't stay and farm there any longer. At the time, there was growth of people building vacation homes throughout the state, mostly from NYC, Boston and the suburbs around them. There was some resentment from some locals, a few making comments like "I think you should have to be at least a 2nd generation Vermonter to live here." Since the state has a declining population now, I wonder if they still feel the same way.

The bullying from high school continued at GMC, starting and growing within a month or so of my being there. I had friends, but I also had some really nasty haters. It got continually worse as the year progressed. Once I was out of escaping to the slopes, I began escaping to the countryside and spending almost every weekend I could either in Montreal, Boston or New York. Occasionally, I would end up in other places like Albany and Syracuse.

Some drunken evening, I told a girlfriend or 2 girlfriends in confidence of my experience with Jimmy. My one memory is telling the story to one close friend, a FWB (though not really a term then) after having sex who was among the first to know I was gay or bi. At that time, I definitely was the latter. I really enjoyed sex with women. The other was with 2 girls I hung out with who were also from NJ, just different areas than myself. Maybe it wasn't a one tell. I do know I talked with all 3 about it. I know the Jersey girls, not the FWB, who was from Quebec, spread the word around the campus more effectively than Twitter, Facebook or Instagram could now. If my life wasn't already difficult, it was now absolute hell. "Only in your dreams", "you're a sick fag". Even those that wanted to have some faith in me believed I must have been mistaken and imagined the whole thing. You imagined getting stoned and fucked on an isolated campus in August by the Assistant Director of Admissions? Is there something in the air up there I should have been warned about? If so, dammit, let me have my window air conditioner. Oh, Jimmy had one...

I did try and confront Jimmy, his boss and the Dean of Students that got back to my Mother after I was being ostracized by the student body. It was a futile effort. If anything, I felt all the more insecure and unprotected. I talked to my Mother about it, but she was an alcoholic, beginning a divorce and asked me questions like "did he penetrate you?" I made it clear that he did and she said she would think about what to do and it never came up again.

One night a short but rough and tough guido from somewhere around Boston came into my friend's dorm and just jumped me in rage, calling me a "fucking fudge packing faggot" and whatever other names, and was literally hysterical. Being called names is child's play, but this was the 1st time I saw true hate and knew I was in true danger of being really hurt. My friend, who was a tall, clean-cut boy from Connecticut seemed more startled than me. While I don't know that he was a decisive champion of LGBT rights in 1988 and I am doubtful he had ever been in a physical fight before this, he grabbed the other guy, threw him up against the wall and when the guy wouldn't simmer down, clocked him. There was my real hero. I am not even certain of his name. We buried the event under the carpet as if it never happened and I was more embarrassed or ashamed than anything else. It had only been a few weeks since I started coming out on campus. I did so now that my secret was out and I was leaving.

I fell in love with Montreal during my time in Vermont. It is a foreign county. They speak another language. I also realized I am a city mouse, not a country mouse. Glad to have had the experience, but it really wasn't me. My time in Montreal made it easier for me to leave GMC strong as I was accepted there. I left GMC for Concordia University. Those are many entries to follow.

GMC's 155 acres, 400 seat theatre, 654 residential spaces for students and all else is for sale, including the carbon neutral heating system installed less than a decade ago. My memory is of a very nice campus in a very sleepy town almost exclusively dependent on it. Wonder what they will do now? There is my one part of gay that says "OMG, it's the Harvey Milk College or whatever" but I actually am not really a believer, especially today in such things in such places. If anything, I'd like to make it "hater U" and re-train white supremacists. You could easily fortress the campus while giving them a rather OK life, possibly now even with cable. Let them continue with what GMC was doing in sustainability and turn their acts into something worth listening to and encouraging...

 A military base closure can destroy a small city as a small college can a small NE town

One thing for certain, I don't think this as somewhere I want to go "home again." It would have conjured up many memories good and bad to begin with, now it's all just sad.

Green Mountain among latest small colleges to close
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