Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: WEDNESDAY, September 15, 1993 TAG: 9309150349
SECTION: VIRGINIA PAGE: A-1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: JIM STRATTON NEWPORT NEWS DAILY PRESS
DATELINE: LENGTH: Long
Millionaire philanthropist Wendy Reves holds the financial keys to W&M's fledgling program in international studies. The school already has hired a recognized scholar to lead the program, but needs money to launch it. So, officials are sharing their vision of a new international studies center with the 77-year-old former fashion model.
Reves meets with top college officials and lunches at the Williamsburg Inn with President Paul R. Verkuil. They eat, they chat, and before the final cup of coffee is served, Reves drops $3 million into the delighted president's lap.
For $3 million, it seemed awfully easy.
It wasn't, of course.
Reves' gift took more than a year's worth of planning, meeting and behind-the-scenes schmoozing. College officials are more than willing to make that investment because now, the Wendy Reveses of the world are critical to public higher education.
In an era of shrinking state support and soaring tuition, it's hard to overstate the importance of a fat wallet in the hands of a friendly donor.
But recent events have raised questions about donor influence over universities and whether schools should be accountable for how they spend private money.
Old Dominion University this month said it would pay former Vice President Dan Quayle $12,500 and author David Halberstam $10,250 to speak on campus. ODU plans to use donations and investment funds. Students complain the money is being wasted.
James Madison University recently leased an 8-year-old prefabricated building from a JMU donor without first seeing it assembled or seeking comparable options. The price: $700,000 over five years. The building arrived badly damaged. Donor Bill Neff is replacing the waterlogged interior but says the school should pay for changes it wants from the original floor plan.
"There's no question that affluent donors can bend a school," says George Keller, an expert on academic management and a senior fellow at the University of Pennsylvania's Graduate School of Education. "It can distort the overall balance of a university."
For decades, private schools have promoted the notion of alumni support. Virginia's state universities are new to the money-raising game. After all, taxpayers have been footing the bill.
"It simply wasn't done," says Anne Pratt, an associate director with the State Council of Higher Education and former W&M director of advancement programs.
Fifteen to 20 years ago, W&M and other universities began to see the benefits. Schools started seeking private donations to pay for otherwise unattainable projects that would provide the much-heralded "margin of excellence."
Fund-raising staffs grew into sophisticated intelligence-gathering operations. Staffers scrutinize census data, corporate reports and other information in hopes of hooking big financial fish. Chief fund-raisers command high-powered salaries. University of Virginia's vice president for development makes about $130,000 a year. His W&M counterpart is paid $89,000.
Today, fund raising is considered a requirement. With state appropriations falling, accounting for only 25 percent of George Mason's budget, for example, college officials rely on private money to soften the blow.
Schools conduct multiyear drives. One of the earliest was a late 1970s campaign at W&M to raise $18 million. That would barely pay for today's campaigns:
A drive, already called a success, to raise $150 million at William and Mary.
A drive at James Madison University, the first of its kind at the school, to raise between $40 million and $50 million.
A $500 million campaign, among the largest ever for a U.S. public university, being considered by Virginia's premier money raiser, UVa.
Those big numbers spark big questions. Private money can make the difference between good and great schools, but who, critics ask, is policing the process? If money wields power in politics, why should higher education be different?
In June, Providence College in Rhode Island beat out five schools to win $5 million from Alan Shawn Feinstein, a wealthy Rhode Islander interested in public service.
Most faculty agree the new Feinstein Center for Public Service will enhance the school's curriculum, but the program wasn't a big priority before Feinstein donated the money, according to Providence psychology Professor Jack Colby.
"Universities like to think they're purer than other entities," says Colby, who favors the new center. "The fact is they're not as pure as they'd like to portray themselves. They're subject to the same pressures as other corporate entities."
Virginia fund-raisers agree schools are under increasing pressure to raise money. Donors gain recognition, they say, but little influence.
"They support the academic direction, they don't dictate it," said UVa's vice president for development, Robert Sweeney.
Private donations have helped set the course at some schools:
Glassboro State College in New Jersey, which trained many of south New Jersey's teachers, is now Rowan College of New Jersey because of a $100 million donation from industrialist Henry M. Rowan. The school is being transformed into a regional engineering and research university.
The University of Richmond started a school of leadership studies because of a $20 million gift from Robert S. Jepson Jr. The school was not a high academic priority before Jepson.
William and Mary is building a tennis center because of a $3 million gift from millionaire sports agent Mark McCormack. It was in the school's long-range plan, but faculty members complained the money could have been better used on academics.
College officials say they typically wind up with two choices: They can graciously accept a donation for a specific project or graciously turn it down.
Sometimes they say no thank you - as W&M did to a gift to establish a religious-studies professorship. The donor wanted a say in who would occupy the position.
But providing there aren't any grossly inappropriate strings, schools generally accept.
"You do try to direct the money into the most immediate needs," says Charles Steger, Virginia Tech's vice president for development and university relations. "But practically speaking, if it's a tennis center or nothing, you take the tennis center."
The danger is that schools may become too enamored with donors bearing gifts. Shiny new programs may benefit a school, but they often do little to ease students' financial burdens.
Consequently, schools must work hard to ensure their academic base isn't neglected. "It requires incredible vigilance," says Melvyn D. Schiavelli, a W&M chemistry professor and former provost. "You've got to have the courage to turn some things down."
by CNB