Jaeden Briley, an 18-year-old in northern Michigan, said she has been accepted to the University of Findlay in Ohio but also knows she could choose a different road after her senior year ends. In her hometown’s rural setting, she has described wanting to remain close to home even as four-year college has long been promoted as a pathway out of poverty. Up North school leaders say the local choice is not only personal, but shaped by how far students must travel for services and how many advanced opportunities are available inside small districts.
Briley’s life in Montmorency County reflects that pull: after feeding animals on the family farm before dawn, she drives about five miles to the highway and then to Johannesburg-Lewiston Area Schools. She said being a veterinarian would typically take about eight years of higher education and could bring at least twice the paycheck she expects from other work, but she has also said she wants to “stay here.” She is considering becoming a welder, describing welding as a way to stay in the region while building a career that fits her community.
Up North leaders say they feel “torn” between steering students toward the best future and acknowledging that many who could flourish in college prefer to remain among the forests, rivers and lakes of the region. Katy Xenakis-Makowski, superintendent of the 600-student district that Briley attends, said, “Our mission is different than schools in metro Detroit.” She said her goal is “to build good humans who can hold jobs and support their families.”
Those conditions, according to an analysis cited in the reporting, are present across much of northern Michigan. About 1 in 16 Michigan students—87,000 total—attend districts that are rural and have total enrollment under 1,000, and almost a third of the state’s traditional public districts fit that description, with many located in areas where down-staters visit in summer. The reporting says the 11 counties with the lowest median income are all in the northern Lower Peninsula or in the Upper Peninsula, and it also describes two rural regions with some of the lowest college enrollment and college readiness scores on the SAT—both in areas characterized as rural.
In those two regions, just over half, 51.2%, of high school graduates enroll in college within 12 months, compared with 59% statewide. The reporting also says students in these districts often show more interest in career tech than four-year college, with schools seeing draws toward fields like carpentry, welding and agriculture. Educators describe how day-to-day life outside school can make additional steps toward college harder, including long travel for routine health care and limited support resources that bigger districts may provide more easily.
In Rudyard Area Schools in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, the reporting says students can miss a full day to see doctors or dentists because the drive each way can take several hours. The reporting also describes situations where students do not have primary physicians and rely on the school nurse; one nurse, it says, regularly drives her kindergarten daughter more than four hours to Grand Rapids for a hearing specialist. In the 200-student Posen Consolidated Schools, the district has a rack of used suits and dresses students can borrow for prom because getting items can require long travel; Posen Superintendent Michelle Wesner said, “You have to drive over two hours to get a prom dress.”
The reporting also points to limits on course offerings and technology access in small districts. It says Johannesburg-Lewiston does not offer in-person advanced placement classes because of small enrollment or lack of a teacher available to instruct them, and it describes that only 35% of districts offer AP classes compared with 90% in districts with 1,000 or more students. The reporting says dual enrollment classes by video depend on connections working, and it describes days when class sessions were left without work due to a community college calling a snow day, along with episodes when students helped teachers troubleshoot attendance online.
An estimated third of students in Rudyard and Johannesburg-Lewiston do not have access to high-speed internet at home, educators say, shaping how instruction works. Missy Tallman, a middle school history teacher in Johannesburg-Lewiston, said, “I don’t give homework because they can’t access those resources at home.” She said she also doesn’t know what’s happening in students’ lives at home and described moving funds around or staff covering gaps when students cannot afford activities. Tallman added, “We’re like a family,” describing how that sense of mutual support helps families manage what bigger districts might distribute through separate systems.
Beyond the classroom, the reporting highlights how Up North culture influences the definition of success and the meaning of education. Ryan Fewins-Bliss, executive director of the Michigan College Access Network, described a northern Michigan culture in which interest in college declines farther north on I-75, saying, “There’s a northern Michigan culture, where there’s disinterest because people have to leave to get education.” He said there is also a “fancy-pants” issue, with people saying, “Oh you’re too good to be here.” The reporting also says only five of 42 counties from Clare County north have higher adult associate-degree attainment than the state average of 42.2%.
Fewins-Bliss said many residents who do not go to college “survive and they’re good people,” but described the added difficulty of paying medical bills and other costs as part of a lifestyle with fewer options. He said the choices, as described in the reporting, come down to “leave or stay and struggle.” For some students, the reporting says staying can look like choosing a smaller district and a nearby set of opportunities, even if it means giving up activities they might otherwise take on.
Ava Ewing, a student whose rural home borders two districts, chose to attend Posen even though she could have enrolled in larger schools, the reporting says. She described giving up extracurriculars and French class and advanced math she could have taken elsewhere because Alpena is “too big,” while also touring Central Michigan University, Ferris State University and possibly to become a nurse, along with considering Alpena Community College. She said she is also considering becoming an electrician or working as a utility company line worker, and she described her community as having enough life beyond school, saying, “People think there’s nothing to do here. But there’s water and the woods.”
The reporting describes Ewing hunting since she was 5, with family camp time during deer and turkey season, and it portrays practical ways young people get connected even when connectivity at home is limited. It also describes local recreation—bonfires with friends and cell service when she goes out into a field—as part of why staying can feel workable. Ewing said she has driven to Alpena for the experience of the city and is unsure about moving to a place like Mt. Pleasant because local scale differences and the number of residents can shape a student’s sense of belonging and future plans.
For districts and state leaders, the question is what support should look like for students who want to stay rather than leave for college. The reporting says those who spoke to Bridge encouraged the state to boost access and choices in career tech, and it compares offering rates in larger districts versus smaller ones. It says among districts with more than 1,000 students, 66% offer career tech education, while among schools with under 1,000, which are common across northern Michigan, just 36% do.
The reporting also describes how Michigan’s spending choices and grant structure shape those options. It says that in 2024-25, Michigan spent eight times more in college scholarships and grants—$558 million—than on career technical education—$67 million. It adds that for 2025-26, career tech received a one-time $70 million boost to expand programs into areas currently underserved, but it says the money is being distributed through competitive grants and local leaders worry their students may be overlooked by districts with more enrollment.
Johannesburg-Lewiston Assistant High School Principal Dan Serba said, “If there’s more training in the trades for those kids, they can make good money.” The reporting also cites Education Trust Midwest, which it says suggests rural schools are short-changed in funding and that the state needs more “weighted” formulas that send more dollars to small rural districts without relying on a “dog-eat-dog” competitive grant system. Serba suggested that the most impactful influx of cash may not be only in schools, but also in business incentives to create better jobs nearby.
Michigan College Access Network’s Fewins-Bliss said any additional support should come without strings attached and that it “has to be regional decisions (on how best to spend funds), and emanating from the schools.” He added that “the minute it looks like the state is doing something, it doesn’t work up there,” describing how people in the region prefer decisions that emerge locally rather than being directed from Lansing.
The reporting includes a perspective from Ethan Purol, who graduated from Posen in a class of 16 and is now a junior at Massachusetts Institute of Technology. He said it was “an incomprehensible change,” describing the number of people he encountered in his freshman dorm relative to his whole town. Purol said he studies mechanical engineering and hopes to work in aeronautics after graduation, and he understands why some classmates chose not to go to college to stay. He said he knows people who could have had college success and asked, “If you can get by and you’re happy, why go to college? I can stay here and weld,” adding that when he is away for years, he sometimes “never see[s] stars,” while home reminds him of what he loves.
The reporting frames the core issue as a difference in how advancement is defined and what success means for rural families. It says Purol told those around him that people choose their paths because “People choose it — it’s what they want,” and he also said, “Everyone has a different definition to what success means.”