In a way, it seemed appropriate that the paperwork came on a Friday. The small Catholic college Anna Maria College, which is nestled in the rural hills of Paxton, Massachusetts, officially declared Chapter 11 bankruptcy, confirming what many on campus had suspected for weeks. Those who had been paying attention were not surprised by the filing. It simply proved it.
A business or organization does not always immediately vanish under Chapter 11. It rearranges itself. While it devises a strategy to pay creditors over time, it is still able to borrow money and continue to operate in some restricted capacity. According to court documents, Anna Maria has between 200 and 999 creditors, each with assets and liabilities ranging from $10 million to $50 million. Among the bigger debts were nearly $1.6 million owed to the U.S. Department of Education and over $1.3 million owed to Sodexo, the company that managed the college’s dining halls and facilities.
Seeing those figures presented in a court document has an almost unremarkable quality. However, the campus behind them was depleted more quickly than anyone had anticipated. In April, the college declared its closure. The next month saw the conclusion of academic operations. After being informed that they would not receive severance pay, faculty members learned in early June that their layoffs would occur even sooner than anticipated. Former associate professor of health and forensic sciences Kay Marden referred to the bankruptcy as “the logical conclusion to this disgustingness.” Although it’s a direct evaluation, it shows how quickly everything collapsed.
Pupils were also caught in the middle. Despite being scheduled to be disbursed more than a month prior to the announcement of the closure, stipends and scholarship funds, which were partially funded by the state and partially by a nonprofit, never materialized. Anna Maria graduate Alisha DiTaranto stated unequivocally that she does not anticipate ever seeing that money. It’s difficult not to interpret that as resignation instead of anger—the kind that arises when one is sufficiently let down.
This has deeper roots than most people are aware. A state incentive known as the Quinn Bill, which provided officers with financial rewards for obtaining degrees, once attracted a constant flow of students to Anna Maria’s law enforcement programs. The pipeline dried up in 2009 after Massachusetts cut that funding. That same year, the college changed its focus to athletics, adding football and relying on financial aid packages to maintain enrollment. For a while, it was effective. It was short-lived.
The endowment has a narrative of its own. It was only about $5.8 million in fiscal year 2022, which is insignificant when compared to nearby Clark University, which reported $522 million in 2025. Anna Maria’s endowment fell to $1.4 million by the following year. According to reports, administrators withdrew $2.36 million from restricted endowment funds—money donors had designated for particular uses—in order to pay for operating expenses in 2025.
According to Laura De Veau, a researcher at Boston College who specializes in college closures, Anna Maria lacked flexible capital. “They kicked the can down the road, probably two academic years too far,” she replied. She claimed that there was insufficient political will to put an end to the situation prior to the crisis.
The college is currently attempting to sell its 260-acre campus, which is valued at about $41 million. However, because it is located in a rural area of Paxton rather than close to a city, it is more difficult to find a buyer. The Association of Governing Boards’ Larry Ladd has observed this trend in the past: universities that hang on too long and prioritize optimism over logic. Apparently, Anna Maria ran out of both.
