I took a mini Spring Break. Part of the itinerary was a one day guided fishing trip using belly boats on a small lake. The target was bass and panfish. After lunch I met my guide, a young man fifty years my junior, at the appointed spot—a small “fisherman’s” parking lot in the middle of nowhere. We sorted out our equipment, donned our waders, and hauled those belly boats one half mile to the lake.

After a couple hours of casting, paddling around, and talking about a wide range of subjects—including portaledges and exploring canopy biodiversity–I was very impressed. Carson had a newly minted Associates degree. He had earned that degree at the modest cost of $20,000 and had less than $5000 in debt. He was personable, hard working, loved learning, and had a wide range of skills—the perfect formula for success.

Turns out not to be the case. I was about to learn another lesson about post-secondary education. We were in a section of the state called Ohio Appalachia-Central. It consists of eight counties in Southeastern Ohio in the foothills of Appalachia. When you think of “Appalachia” the first word that comes to mind is “poor.” I went to high school in this area sixty years ago. Intuitively it was clear to me then that the “smart move” was to-get-the-hell-out-of-Dodge. The obvious way you did that back then was to go to a four-year college. (If community college was an option in that part of Ohio in those days, I didn’t know about it.) Well Appalachia-Central was poor then, and it is poor now with few opportunities for young people.

Carson had gotten some good advice from his Mom—“You are going to need post-secondary education to get ahead in today’s economy, but don’t get too much in debt.” Understandably he opted for the local community college which had a wide range of programs, and where he could cut expenses by living at home. He went to school, loved it, did well in his studies, and graduated.

Unfortunately no one gave him the following advice:
1) You need to identify a marketable credential that interests you.
2) If your community college has little or no job placement services, that’s a red flag.
3) Your financial opportunities will be severely limited if your plan is to stay in the area.
Carson went the ever popular “choose what you love” route, and he loved outdoor recreation, i.e. rock climbing, fishing, backpacking, etc. (He has a great story about how he met his girlfriend when she “ran him to ground” in search of matches on the Buckeye Trail.) It was natural, no pun intended, for him to gravitate to the Natural Resources program, and he ended up majoring in Ecotourism & Adventure Travel. This is a tad better than Art History if your objective is to become financially self-sufficient, but not by much.

Upon graduation he was able to find a job, but it’s not going to work out as a career. In Ohio tourism is seasonal. Right now he is working seven days per week. In the winter it’s going to be slow to nonexistent. This type of work doesn’t pay well in general, and Ohio is not exactly a premier outdoor recreation destination. He’s barely getting by, while working his butt off, and can’t replace his dilapidated truck. He doesn’t have the time or money available to go back to school. We brainstormed some ideas where he and his girlfriend, with a similar educational background, could move elsewhere and start their own company. He’s an impressive young man. I think he will succeed.

When I got home I did some research on his community college. Enrollment has been dwindling. The school is on their third president in less than three years. With the exception of a few programs there are no job placement services. The lesson here is “do your homework” before you apply. Just checking accreditation is not enough.

Today that community college has a branch in the town where I went to high school. Given my financial situation at the time, if that branch had been there when I graduated, that’s probably where I would have ended up.