For some students, the decision to attend a Christian college is easy: they've always dreamed of going, and they want faith to be central in the classroom. For others, however, the choice is less clear.

Campus Life talked to four students who weren't sure about Christian college, but still chose to go there. Now juniors and seniors, they wouldn't trade their experiences for anything. Why?

Scott Yancy
Junior
Anderson University

All Scott Yancy knew about golf when he entered high school was that its players wore goofy clothes and swung clubs. But when a fellow student made a disparaging remark about a new African-American golfer making waves on the pro circuit—Tiger Woods—Scott felt he'd heard his calling. "He's an amazing player," the student had said about Woods, "but he'll never get to the top because he's black." That night, Scott told his dad he wanted to learn to play golf.

Four years later, Scott was getting some scholarship offers to play at secular colleges. But on a last-minute visit to Anderson University, in Anderson, Indiana, a school which doesn't offer athletic scholarships, Scott "fell in love with the place" and passed up the scholarship money elsewhere, convinced that a Christian college was where he should be.

Scott had a good freshman year at Anderson, playing golf and succeeding academically. So good, in fact, the secular schools came knocking again.

"When I was offered scholarships after high school, I thought that was a one-time deal," Scott says. "But after my freshman year all the coaches who were interested in me before were even more interested. Kentucky State offered to pay full tuition, room and board, and all expenses. They even offered a job with a stipend."

It was a sweet deal, and the chance to play at a higher level excited Scott. He accepted Kentucky State's offer.

At his new college, Scott got everything he'd ever wanted. Almost.

"I got so much publicity and attention at Kentucky State," Scott recalls. "Everything was paid for. I had a four-room apartment all to myself. I was given new shoes and new equipment. We didn't drive to tournaments—we flew. I didn't need anything.

"But it only took me two weeks to see I was missing God. I think you can do well wherever you go, but I just wasn't growing there. I couldn't find a church in the immediate area, I had no Christian friends, and I was an outcast because I didn't go to parties, drink, or get with women."

Scott longed for the people and environment he'd known at Anderson. He knew going back to Anderson didn't make financial sense, but his parents said they would support any decision he made. Scott's golf coach at Kentucky State was less understanding.

"I told him I honestly appreciated everything he'd done for me, but that I couldn't neglect my faith. He went ballistic and asked, 'Why would you give all this up for that?'"

After a semester at Kentucky State, Scott returned to Anderson. He doesn't regret the decision, and though he ultimately wants to play on the PGA tour, he plans to finish his finance major and attend grad school before going for his dream.

"My ambition is to play on the PGA tour," Scott says. "It's what I think about every day. But I also want to start a Christian golf camp. I'd love to bring Christian kids into the game, and I want to give something back."

Janice Olson
Junior
Crown College

When Janice Olson was in high school, she and her mom did not get along at all. They clashed over almost everything, Janice says, because their personalities are so much alike.

"We both like to be in control," she explains. "I felt like I could take care of myself, but my mom would tell me 'do this' or 'do that,' and I would get very frustrated."

So when the time came to apply for college, Janice wasn't interested in any help from her mother. Besides, she knew her mom only had one school in mind: Crown College, a Christian school in St. Bonifacius, Minnesota. It was where Janice's mom had gone and excelled, and where her parents had met.

Janice wasn't sure she even wanted to go to college.

"I wasn't interested in school," Janice says. "I wanted to experience life on my own, but I hated to leave all my friends."

Eventually, Mom—with help from one of Janice's friends—roped Janice into a day trip to Crown. They'd see the campus, attend chapel and a class, walk through the dorms. That was it. If Janice was still dead-set against the school, her mom said she wouldn't need to consider it.

The whole way down to Crown, Janice was beside herself.

She remembers, "We drove through fields for two hours. That's all we saw. I was like, 'I'm not going to like this place. It's in the middle of nowhere!'"

As they drove onto campus, though, Janice's perspective began to change.

"There was this huge pond with a waterfall and a beautiful view," Janice says. "In my head, I thought, 'This is gorgeous,' but of course I had to act like, 'Nope, don't want to be here.'"

By the end of their visit, Janice had the distinct impression that this was the place for her. She had desperately not wanted to like Crown, but, she had to admit, it was great. The students were friendly and the professors were personable. Janice had always been interested in making some kind of Christian ministry her life's work, and the school offered several majors to prepare her for that goal. Plus, it was close enough to home to visit now and then, and far enough away to give her a feeling of independence.

So Janet decided to go to Crown. She had second thoughts until the day she arrived as a freshman, but since then, she's never regretted it. She's found her own niche majoring in Christian education and being involved in extracurricular activities like student government and working at the admissions office. And her relationship with her mom has actually improved.

"We never learned to communicate in high school," Janice says. "Now we talk on the phone, and I appreciate her. I've realized what she's done for me and my family, and I'm so thankful. When I go home, she loves it. She'll make me any dinner I want!"

After graduating at the head of her high school class, Caroline Hahm, now a senior at Biola University, applied to some of the most prestigious colleges in the nation. One that topped her list was Cornell University, an Ivy League school in Ithaca, New York. She'd been to a lacrosse camp there and loved the campus. She was also impress by the wide range of majors, and the first-rate professors. When her acceptance letter came, she felt her dreams had come true.

Caroline enrolled at Cornell the summer before her freshman year to take some classes ahead of time. It was a special opportunity, since most incoming students wouldn't come until the fall, and Caroline really enjoyed it. But at freshman orientation week before the fall semester, everything changed.

"There were thousands of students on campus," Caroline recalls. "I had gone to a small private high school, so it was pretty overwhelming. The whole week was just party after party. I had a difficult time adjusting to my new roommate. She said she was a Christian, but she didn't live it out. She was also a heavy smoker, and because students aren't allowed to smoke in the halls, she smoked constantly in our room."

The friends Caroline had made that summer lived across campus and had completely different schedules, so she rarely saw them. She found a church she liked, but it wasn't close to the school and it didn't have a college group—a way Caroline had hoped to find Christian community. The stress of being lost in the crowd and studying day and night led to a 60-pound weight gain in her first year. If that weren't enough, she ended up with mono.

"It was a hard transition, but I did adjust," Caroline says. "I joined an a cappella singing group and eventually found Christian brothers and sisters who really took care of me. College life was OK."

Still, by her junior year, Caroline was having second thoughts about her major—pre-med—and Cornell. In high school, she'd contemplated a future in missions, but had pushed that aside when she went to college. Now she wasn't sure what she should do, so she decided to take a semester off to figure things out.

Caroline went on a short-term missions trip that semester with Youth With A Mission, and while it didn't settle anything conclusively, it convinced Caroline that Cornell was not where she should be. She took another year off from school.

When she finally did reapply to colleges, Caroline chose all secular schools close to home in New York, except for one—Biola University in La Mirada, California. She had heard about Biola from another student on her missions trip, and while it sounded exciting, Caroline didn't think she was ready to live across the country from her family. Plus, transferring to a Christian school this late in her college career seemed like too much of a change. But something in her told her to apply anyway.

That something won out. When fall rolled around, Caroline packed up and headed west. Over a year later, she doesn't regret her decision.

"I believe Biola was where God was leading me," she says. "I came sort of lost and dumbfounded, but since then, it's been amazing. I love that the professors are so committed to the students. I've even had professors take me out to dinner. That's unheard of at Cornell.

"It was tough explaining to friends back east why I would leave Cornell for Biola," Caroline adds. "They think if you go to a Christian school that means you can't hack it at a really good school, a secular school. But that's just not true. There are students here who were accepted to the best schools and chose Biola. I don't feel like I've left an academic setting for a less academic one."

Sure, Caroline knows a degree from Cornell would have looked good on her rÉsumÉ. But she believes her time at Biola is better spent, and her education more well-rounded.

"My decision sits well with my soul," she says.

Copyright © 2001 by the author or Christianity Today International/Campus Life magazine.
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