Can Antioch here survive woes at flagship campus?

An edgy liberal attitude once made Antioch College in Ohio one of the more hip campuses around. So much so, that by the mid-1970s, Antioch had spawned more than 30 satellite campuses across the country — including one of its largest, in downtown Seattle.

But the failure of Ohio administrators to build a solid endowment coupled with declining enrollment have recently threatened to bring down the entire Antioch system. Three weeks ago, administrators announced last-ditch efforts to save the residential campus in Yellow Springs had faltered — for now, anyway — forcing them to shutter the campus on June 30. The five remaining satellite campuses will stay open.

Without a flagship campus, some question whether Antioch University Seattle can maintain its niche and survive. The fallout from Ohio — including ongoing lawsuits and picketing at campuses across the country — is expected to be a continuing drain on all the campuses.

But administrators here say that mothballing Yellow Springs will eventually save them money and could help usher in a fresh start.

Antioch has always charted its own course — requiring students to incorporate real-world work experience into their studies, eschewing grades in favor of written assessments, and allowing students to help make decisions about running the college.

At the Seattle campus, in a two-story building at Sixth Avenue and Battery Street, there are about 800 students. Most are working adults seeking graduate degrees for advancement or a new career. With all the night classes, the campus doesn't get busy until after 4 p.m. The Ohio spirit remains — a framed recruitment photo declares "NO FOOTBALL! (not since 1927, anyway)."

Deficits in Ohio

Antioch Seattle has been propping up the faltering Ohio campus with more than $250,000 a year, according to administrators. Each year, the deficits in Ohio — and the demands on the satellite campuses — have grown.

Richard Norris, dean of finance at the Seattle campus, said, "the whole thing was going to sink" within five years if trustees hadn't made the decision to close Ohio.

Enrollment in Seattle has fallen in recent years — from 927 students in 2004 to 802 students this year, which administrators blame in large part on increased competition for education students.

That has led to layoffs and a revenue drop last year of $1 million, to $13.6 million, for the university system. The Seattle campus still managed to break even — barely — after paying expenses and helping out Ohio.

Despite those figures, Cassandra Manuelito-Kerkvliet, the president of Antioch University Seattle since last July, remains bullish about the future.

She plans to start a number of new programs, including several collaborations with local tribes, and to increase enrollment by 50 percent in the next five years. She said she will soon need to find a bigger Seattle campus.

Manuelito-Kerkvliet said she knew the challenges Antioch faced when she took the job.

"It's an exciting time for me," she said. "The chancellor has a systemwide initiative to really beef things up and for us to start acting like a system."

But other, less tangible, factors also may play into the future of the Seattle campus — such as how much credibility the Antioch name has lost and what ripple effect may come from removing the system's traditional heart.

"They are trying to build a University of Phoenix clone on the ashes of Antioch College," said Ellen Borgersen, acting president of an alumni fundraising group in Ohio called the College Revival Fund Inc. "I don't think they can survive very long without the anchor of the historic college in Yellow Springs."

Larry Rubin, another alum working to save the Ohio campus, likens Antioch to a business and questions how much faith people retain in a company when it closes its flagship store.

Students here seem unfazed by the situation in Ohio.

"I guess it doesn't really affect us," said Sheina Grossman, 27, who is studying for a master's degree in child, couple and family therapy. "What's happening is kind of sad. But I think Antioch in Seattle has its own reputation to stand on."

Paltry endowment

Antioch's financial troubles date back decades. The college spurned donations in the early part of the 20th century in an attempt to be on the cutting edge. And, unlike most universities, Antioch administrators failed to adequately tap wealthy alumni, leading to today's relatively paltry endowment of $25 million. Other established private colleges typically have endowments in the hundreds of millions or even billions.

As a result, the college's finances have remained precarious, and it has been unable to compete with the scholarships offered by other liberal-arts colleges. Student numbers peaked at more than 2,000 in the 1960s and early 1970s, when administrators decided to reach out to students across the country by opening the satellites.

But in 1973, a devastating student strike shut down the campus for six weeks, and student numbers never recovered.

Recent controversy

In later years, the college found itself defending some quirky decisions.

In 1993, concerns about date rape prompted the university to enact a widely ridiculed policy that required people to get verbal consent for each new level of sexual contact. There was more controversy in 2000 when the university invited convicted murderer and former Black Panther Mumia Abu-Jamal — who some believe was framed — to deliver the commencement speech from his prison cell.

Meanwhile, enrollment at Yellow Springs continued to drop, and the facilities fell into disrepair. As recently as 2003, enrollment was 600, but two years later was down to 373. That year, administrators introduced a new curriculum based, in part, on the one used at The Evergreen State College in Olympia. But that failed to attract students, and enrollment is now 193.

The future of the Ohio campus remains unresolved. Some alumni, backed by wealthy donors, hope to negotiate a takeover in order to keep it open. And last week, more than a dozen Ohio faculty refiled a lawsuit that seeks to block trustees from laying them off and mothballing the campus.

Antioch system Chancellor Toni Murdock, a former Seattle campus president, said part of the vision for the future is to update software and move to a hybrid system where people learn both in the classroom and online.

But Murdock bristles at comparisons with the University of Phoenix, which relies heavily on online courses. She said Antioch will retain traditions, values and a level of teacher-student interaction that schools like Phoenix won't be able to imitate.

"We are all emotionally very drained about the thought of closing the college," said Mary Lou LaPierre, the dean of university relations. "But in Seattle, we will be better off."

Seattle Times news researchers Gene Balk and David Turim contributed to this report. Nick Perry: 206-515-5639 or nperry@seattletimes.com