A promise, 50 years in the making

At 75, Barton Schott earns his UND degree — fulfilling a promise to his father and discovering the joy of learning along the way

Dressed in graduation garb inside the Chester Fritz Auditorium on Aug. 7, 75-year-old Barton Schott felt two things: adrenaline and relief.

When he walked across the commencement stage at the University of North Dakota, Schott officially finished a journey that had begun more than 50 years earlier.

“To finally cross over and get a degree after working so hard feels really good,” he said shortly after the Summer Commencement ceremony.

But standing in the now-empty auditorium, Schott’s thoughts traveled further back — to the North Dakota farm where he grew up and to the father who was determined that his sons attend UND.

Schott’s three older brothers did just that. When his turn came in 1969, he followed them to Grand Forks. He also had been recruited to play offensive line for UND football.

“My dad really emphasized getting off the farm, and he wanted his sons to go to UND and graduate,” Schott said.

Schott spent two years at UND before transferring to Valley City after struggling with two tough courses. Before he could finish his degree, however, an internship in Wyoming sent his life in another direction.

Then in 1974, his father died, and Schott returned home with his brother to plant the crop their father had prepared. Their mother asked them to stay through harvest, and a bumper crop gave Schott enough money to buy his father’s machinery.

As the years went by stayed on the farm, married and started a family.

But the two courses that had bested him at UND never quite left his mind.

“Fifty years later, I still wanted to take these two classes,” Schott said. “It was still bugging me.”

The way back to UND

For years, returning to UND didn’t fit the rhythms of farm life. But eventually, Schott learned he could take UND courses online.

Suddenly, the two classes that had bothered him for decades seemed doable. At that point, his goal wasn’t getting a degree. Instead it was a simpler plan: take the courses again, pass them, and scratch that 50-year itch.

One of Schott’s first courses back was biology, a subject that had given him trouble during his first go-round. After making it through only 70 questions on a timed, 100-question test, he told his wife, Linsey, that he might need a tutor. But as it turned out, he already had one.

Linsey, a retired special education teacher, helped Schott develop the computer skills online coursework required and taught him new ways to study. His son Andy, who had returned to the farm, also made sure Schott had time to study and take exams.

“I had a really good circle of people around me that encouraged me,” Schott said, something Angela Cary, Schott’s academic advisor, saw firsthand.

“I would always meet with both of them every semester,” Cary recalled of Schott and Linsey. “It wasn’t just Bart; it was both of them, and I felt like they were really a team.”

By the end of biology, Schott had earned an A. He had accomplished what he came back to do and reached a natural stopping point in his education experiment. But Cary had another suggestion.

“You did really well on those,” Schott recalled Cary telling him. “Maybe you want to take another one.”

So he did. Then another. And another.

“And it just kept going like that,” Schott said.

Discovering ‘joyful learning’

Cary said UND’s General Studies degree is particularly well suited to returning students because it is fully online and offers flexibility in choosing coursework.

What stood out to her about Schott, though, was his curiosity.

“It was really the fun part, being able to go through the course catalog with him,” Cary said. “I’d get through a few history courses, and he’d say, ‘Well, how about something else?’ or, ‘How about this subject?’”

And somewhere amid all the studying and exams, something else happened: Schott started having fun.

Because the General Studies degree allowed him to explore his interests, he took courses in American Indian studies, geology, sociology and history. Cary remembered advising meetings in which Schott seemed energized by the possibilities.

“He was really open to everything,” Cary said. “He explored areas where he probably would have never thought about taking a class or getting involved with that subject before.”

Schott said that he loved his history courses most of all.

He connected with UND history professor Eric Burin and took as many of his courses as he could. Burin’s approach, Schott said, encouraged him to move beyond memorizing dates and events and instead investigate what he didn’t already know.

Schott described his experiences in Burin’s classes as “joyful learning.” And like Cary, Burin watched Schott’s curiosity grow with each new class.

“From start to finish, Bart was insatiably inquisitive, courageously open-minded, and admirably reflective,” Burin said. “He wanted to see more, think more, and be more. His tale is an inspirational testament to what’s possible wherever one is literally and metaphorically in life.”

Schott now hopes other North Dakotans will recognize that possibility in his story. He even wrote an essay in one of his English classes about the benefits of online education for older adults and people in rural areas.

“Don’t wait 50 years,” he said with a laugh. “When it starts bugging you, if you can do it, come back. I did the online experience, and it worked out really good for me.”

A promise kept

At commencement, Schott was surrounded by family, many with UND connections of their own.

Two of his three sons are UND graduates, and Linsey earned her master’s degree in special education at the University. For years, Schott had watched family members cross the commencement stage. But this time, they were there for him.

And as Schott crossed the stage, he thought about the person who couldn’t be there.

He remembered his father insisting that each of his four boys would attend UND. Decades later, while working his way through classes, Schott would remind himself that every completed course brought him closer to fulfilling a promise he had made to his dad.

“When I get this diploma, it’ll be for my dad,” he remembered thinking.

More than 50 years after first arriving at UND, Schott felt that his promise had finally been kept.

“I can just feel my dad really smiling and happy that I got this,” he said. “Because it was for him.”