St. Paul College President Rassoul Dastmozd wins accolades

The lithe man in the pinstripe suit and plaid tie hurries down the corridor, poking his head into classrooms and chatting up students, stopping every so often to pick up a scrap of paper or an empty chip bag and stuff them into his pocket.

The students smile, nod back. They're used to seeing Rassoul Dastmozd, president of St. Paul College, scooting through their hallways and collecting litter as he goes. He is not, as he likes to say, your traditional college president.

"I'm a servant leader. I'm an immigrant kid," Dastmozd said recently in his tidy office, which looks out on the main entrance of the college's low-slung brick building below the Cathedral of St. Paul.

"I relate to our students. There were times, when I was going to college, I slept hungry because I didn't have money."

That was more than 30 years ago, when Dastmozd (pronounced DAHS-most) was an Iranian national working full-time washing dishes and waiting tables while studying engineering at Southwest Minnesota State University in Marshall, Minn.

After years as an instructor and administrator in Iowa and Washington state, since 2011 he has been the low-profile yet determined leader of one of the most highly-regarded community colleges — a school perhaps better known nationally than locally.

Along the way, Dastmozd, 54, also has quietly become an influential voice in St. Paul's business, nonprofit and public spheres, participating on several local boards and an informal economic development partners group that includes some of the city's movers and shakers.

His goal: to build community partnerships for St. Paul College (SPC) from which to draw new students — many of them in low-income homes without higher-education backgrounds — and to forge ties with local employers so that new graduates might find well-paying jobs.

"He's been a great leader for the college," said St. Paul Mayor Chris Coleman, who added that Dastmozd is working with the city and school district on programs to close the achievement gap between white and minority students, who make up more than 60 percent of St. Paul College's student body.

"When you look at the types of jobs and the wages that are paid and the placement that occurs, you have this incredible line from poverty to the middle class going right through the front door of St. Paul College."

As driven as Dastmozd is, students and teachers say that very little escapes his attention — even when it involves how they're doing.

"When I was sick in our commons area … He was the first one to notice me in this crowded space," said Tanaya Walker, who is studying animal science at SPC. "He came up to me and asked if I was OK and he made sure to get me the help I needed."

Said Ed Schones, an electrical technology instructor who represents SPC teachers on the faculty-bargaining unit: "He knows everyone's name, he knows about their programs, and if there are any weaknesses he'll identify it to make it better … He's just a dyno, he really is."

Dastmozd arrived in the U.S. to study engineering in 1979, just as the revolution in his native Iran was heating up. He first landed in Oklahoma City, where he was mistaken for being Latino and beaten up. He stayed only a few months.

"Quite frankly, I didn't understand anything they were talking about," he said.

An Iranian classmate suggested he transfer to Southwest State, a small state school in southwestern Minnesota with a strong engineering program. It proved a much better fit. "Marshall is not the cultural mecca of the world, but it was a safe place," Dastmozd said.

After graduation, he sent out more than 150 résumés before landing an engineering job. But he wanted to teach, and after three years as an engineer he found work as an electronics instructor at Indian Hills Community College in Ottumwa, Iowa.

In 2006 he became vice president for instruction at Clark College, a large two-year school in Vancouver, Wash., that was battling high turnover and faculty mistrust. Dastmozd's job was to heal wounds and advise the new president, a retired U.S. Army officer named Bob Knight.

"He built relations with the faculty, brought in innovative programs and shut down the ones that weren't getting good jobs," said Knight. "He turned the climate around and got people feeling good."

By 2011, and looking to get back to the Midwest, Dastmozd was a finalist for the top jobs at St. Paul College and Century College in White Bear Lake. SPC made him an offer and, impressed with the school's diversity and its urban environment, he accepted.

"It's a very sophisticated place in terms of culture, in terms of people's experience, in terms of people's values," Dastmozd said.

St. Paul College started in a high-school basement in 1910 to train boys in skilled labor. In a city that boasts more colleges per capita than most places, it long has been pigeonholed as the local vocational-technical school.

The shift toward becoming a full-fledged community college began in 1995, when SPC was moved into the Minnesota State Colleges and Universities system. In 2002, it added liberal-arts classes.

All of that happened under former president Donovan Schwichtenberg, who broadened the school's appeal and community reach. Disadvantaged students in the Power of You program could attend SPC tuition-free, and it became easier for students to transfer to four-year schools.

Washington Monthly magazine recognized the college's teaching and program quality when it named SPC the country's top community college in 2010. Its headline: "Shakespeare with power tools."

When Schwichtenberg retired in 2011, Dastmozd took over as president. He lost no time making cold calls on community leaders and educators, promising to build on Schwichtenberg's record.

Since Dastmozd arrived, the college has added seven associate degree and 19 occupational-certificate programs, for a total of 124 programs. He's also bolstered liberal-arts selections, started an honors program and launched a weekend college. Many degrees now can be obtained online.

Last year, Washington Monthly again named SPC the nation's best community college, and a website that ranks colleges — TheBestSchool.org — judged it the ninth-best community college based on student achievement, employment rate and value.

About 11,900 students are currently enrolled, 40 percent of them full-time. The average student age is 29, and Dastmozd pegs the job-placement rate at nearly 80 percent.

Tuition and fees are scheduled to rise only slightly next year to $5,478 — one-third the cost of most for-profit schools, and far less than the $30,000 to $40,000 fare charged by four-year private schools like Macalester and St. Thomas.

After an enrollment jump at SPC of about 70 percent in the past decade, the numbers have dropped in the past year by 3 to 4 percent, reflecting a national trend said to be tied to growing employment. Because two-thirds of its revenue comes from tuition, the college may be looking at an $840,000 deficit this spring if enrollment continues to fall.

But Dastmozd believes that challenges provide opportunities. It's the same attitude that took him from Iran to Minnesota, and why he thinks St. Paul College is a gateway to the middle class for students without easy access to education beyond high school.

Kevin Duchschere • 651-925-5035