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(02/26/15 1:51am)
College admissions have been a source of controversy for decades, but the topic has been of particular interest to this campus over the past month. Students and faculty have long wondered which traits the College prefers and whether the biases that shape these preferences are racist, classist or otherwise illiberal. An important result of this discourse is that the opaque admissions process at Middlebury has come under scrutiny.
In my time at this school, admission preferences has been one of many issues people debate. I have heard cries for change echo across Chapel Lawn over and over again, always with the same demand: more transparency. More transparency in the endowment! The board of trustees! The administration! Access to information is proposed to be a panacea for all our social ills and injustices, so I naturally assumed it would be prescribed to cure this admissions ailment. But, by and large, it has not been.
As a student organization that allegedly embodies the ideals of the free press, it is the Campus’ duty to uncover the truth, whether on our own or through the help of others, and to share it with those who need it most. As a member of that organization, I am baffled by the lukewarm response to the Family Educational Rights and Privacy Act. This newspaper has editorialized on the importance of increased transparency many times before. However, now that FERPA has made such transparency possible, instead of doing our duty we are shirking from it.
The change of heart concerning this particular bout with transparency is the result of students seriously contemplating its consequences, perhaps for the first time. People’s feelings could get hurt, social divides could widen, the campus could crumble from instability. But these objections could be raised any time someone calls for transparency. Why is this time different?
Because it is only now that we have what we want that we realize how much we are afraid of it.
The same goes for other organizations that adopt credos of social justice and institutional accountability. Transparency is terrifying for all parties. There are reasons why information is safeguarded other than to mask corruption. So forgive me when I say that it doesn’t take real courage to bang some pots and pans and shout at Old Chapel for more transparency, because it isn’t required for writing a Notes from the Desk either. Real courage means after all the demonstrations end, after all the articles have been written, and the door is finally open, you walk in.
Undoubtedly, what is on the other side of that door is a can of worms. In light of the current buzz around FERPA, Admissions departments of major colleges all over the country are concerned about what opening it may bring. Middlebury’s Admissions department and the Campus editorial board have suggested a few outcomes, ranging from the dubious and irrelevant to the probable and important. However, what is certain to crawl out of that can is more information and more conversation.
To every student who has ever bemoaned the lack of diversity on campus, been outraged that athletes are given preferential treatment or advocated for a more transparent Middlebury College: now is the time to do something about it. Send the Admissions department your FERPA Access request and go in to see your file. One of the sections you will see on that file is a collection of numbers that represent scores for a number of factors that were given to you by the Admissions office based on how desirable a candidate you are. Write them down.
The Campus, in the spirit of good journalism, should work with any willing student(s) of the hundreds that are near-experts in data management software to create a database to which students may anonymously their submit scores and relevant demographic information. From there, we can look at trends and compare the scores of Middlebury legacy students with first-generation college students, of white persons and non-white persons, of athletes with NARPS. This is what transparency can do — if we are brave enough to take advantage of this unprecedented possibility.
If we truly value increased transparency, institutional accountability, and social justice, it is imperative that we use the tools at our disposal to do what we believe to be right. To do anything else would be an utter failure of principle.
(09/18/14 2:49pm)
In response to the changes in the tailgate policy effective this Tuesday, there have already emerged a number of great arguments against this new policy, and some weaker ones for it. I am impressed by the initiative and zeal displayed by my schoolmates, and am equally disappointed by the actions and reactions of the administration. I hope this article in opposition to the policy complements those that have come before mine and helps to further explain why we are outraged.
The combination of the policy changes and, in particular, the defense given by Erin Quinn, Director of Athletics, is disheartening. Whether or not you have ever attended a tailgate or an athletic event of any kind, you should be concerned. Here’s why:
Firstly, the opaqueness of Mr. Quinn’s explanatory letter borders on insulting. Entitlement is a touchy subject on this campus, however it is not unreasonable for students, when addressing the sudden, forced removal of a long-standing and beloved tradition, to demand a serious explanation. Certainly, the College is within its right to abide by the NESCAC alcohol policy (even if we are the only school to do so, as MiddBeat points out), but such a drastic and abrupt change naturally begs the question: why now?
The gist of Mr. Quinn’s answer — “People were behaving badly and it made us look bad; no details, just trust me” — is unacceptable. Such a response would indicate a lack of respect for the affected party even if it were given as initial reasoning, but after being politely pressed for further explanation, the answer becomes a diplomatic way of telling the indignant and bewildered to screw off.
Mr. Quinn cites the Trinity game tailgate on Homecoming weekend as an exceptionally egregious incident. However, the general opinion of students on the Homecoming tailgate and game, who were both on and off the field that day, was overwhelmingly positive. One member of the football team told me it was the best crowd he had ever played in front of. This is not to say that nothing bad happened; I do not know the whole story. However, it does bespeak some serious cognitive dissonance between administrators and students. It also illustrates why seemingly the entire student body did not see this coming.
Furthermore, it is a pernicious precedent to set if the administration simply takes away such a large fixture of student life without due warning or discussion. How confident should we feel in an administration that would rather pass the buck than address an important issue head-on with its students? How comfortable should we feel when that same administration can take away basic elements of student life on what appears to be a whim and do so without much explanation?
But, perhaps what is most worrisome of all is the administration’s deep-seated mistrust of the student body evinced by this one-two punch of encroaching legislation and dismissive explanation. While walking us through the thought process leading up to his decision, Mr. Quinn writes that following the end of last football season, he “felt compelled to ask [himself] what we should do to address this situation”. However, it appears that this compulsion was not all that strong as, to the best of my recollection, there was no effort to ask us how to proceed in the nine months since. Instead of petitioning us for support as the thoughtful adults we seem to be treated as during the school week, the situation was addressed through blindsiding discipline as though we were children or criminals, incapable of being reasoned with and untrustworthy to form a constructive solution.
It is offensive and hypocritical to the utmost degree that administrators would not even consider reaching out to the greater student body for support to address this issue. We have been denied an opportunity to practice the very same values Middlebury proudly trumpets to the world for having so well instilled in us, as well as the ability to govern ourselves as adult members of free society for which the liberal arts education is designed to prepare us. The latter is what brought us to the liberal arts instead of large research universities and the former, this unique set of values, is what brought us specifically to Middlebury. Regardless of how much or little time studying or partying we intended to spend during our stint at the College, the denial of these values is why many of us feel as though we are now at a school for which we did not sign up three years ago.
With all the rebranding efforts taking place over the past few months, it is no secret that Middlebury has become incredibly conscious of its image, possibly more than ever before. Nor is it a secret that fleecing your students of the (read: any) social life they expected at the beginning of their four years is a great way to ruin that image. Squeezing us to the point where we feel that we have to choose between getting a Middlebury education and having a social life somewhere else, works too. What is a secret, however, is why so many of us upperclassmen feel as though, when we reflect on our earliest memories at the College, it sounds like we are describing a completely different school than the one we attend now.
Middlebury students: do not wait until the administrators have gathered their wits enough to invite us to participate in another time-wasting public forum and kill the issue on the stage of Wilson Hall through apathy and political correctness. Seniors, this is our last chance. Voice your opinion now. Share your articles now. Sign your petitions now. Let Middlebury and its former, current and prospective students know we will not let our final year at this school, which we all at one time loved, to be sterilized in the name of a national brand on President Liebowitz’s resume. Fight for your right to party.
Go Panthers.
(11/06/13 8:18pm)
[EDITOR'S NOTE: The following text contains vulgarity.]
There are certain things we cannot discuss openly at Middlebury. Given that we are a small, close-knit community, there is a sweeping obligation to maintain an atmosphere of civility in order to allow the members of our community a sense of security. And, while we do pride ourselves on being an open and progressive campus, there still remain matters better left unsaid in public. However, while we cannot have student and faculty-led discussions with snacks and beverages about “Hottest people in Battell” or “I’m head over heels for my FYC … HELPPPP,” this does not mean students’ interest in having these discussions will evaporate because there is no school-proffered venue for them. These questions burn in the minds of many students. And when you have a group of kids with enough smarts and time on their hands like we have here, there will always be a way found for a will so strong.
Enter, Middlebury Confessional. Though the College does not own the website, to what degree are they separate? Certainly, it is a public domain that any Middlebury student can access. However, it is not like other higher-profile cesspools of the wild, wild web — like Barstool or Reddit — wherein the vast majority of participants are speaking to matters of national, if not global, import, and a personal connection between the persons of interest being discussed and the pseudonymous, faceless accounts discussing them is highly unlikely; Middlebury Confessional is a beast of our own creation. It could not exist without the College because the College is its sum and substance. In theory, MiddFesh is a forum designed by the members of our small community to (ideally) discuss important matters that we are otherwise incapable of discussing in public, whether due to social ineptitude or a general feeling that the parties interested in these conversations would be unable to conduct them safely in open discourse. This, unfortunately, is not the reality. Instead of the haven for tough issues and the soapbox for voices left otherwise unheard that I perhaps foolishly presume the website was intended to be, it has become a gossip forum in which students are largely either targeting specific individuals or groups for defamation or propositioning each other for sex — hardly the bastion of important dialogue it could be.
The claim that the website, which is entirely dependent upon the College community for its vitality and in which most students can find their name, is somehow disconnected from campus is dubious. It feels more in form and in purpose like an extension of the College, though in the website’s summary of its Privacy and Terms of Use agreement, it laughably asserts that the content posted does not reflect “the opinions of Middlebury College.” Of course, they meant the College as an institution but the irony does not go unnoticed.
But, if the website is indeed an appendage of campus discourse, why do we treat the content posted as though it were on the other side of the globe? These comments are being written by students here and are being directed at other students here. Furthermore, the significant dearth of “secrets” during the summer months indicates that most postings are occurring while students are on campus: in their dorm rooms, in the library, perhaps even on computers that the school owns.
There was a recent incident in which a number of students wrote a message on another student’s whiteboard that included the message, “you say you’re gay but we know you’ve never fucked a guy … so we’re gonna fuck you till you’re straight.” Clearly, these words are threatening and horrific. The school responded, later and with less gusto than some would have hoped. Nevertheless, the administration launched an investigation into the matter and sought out to find and to try the perpetrator(s). Yet, when somebody last year posted to MiddFesh on a forum on which a certain student’s sexuality was being speculated that if said student were gay, the commenter would “hatefuck him for being a conservative in liberal’s clothing,” nobody batted an eyelash. The student to whom the commented was referring did not take up any complaint. But, the question deserves to be asked: if he or she were offended by this content, could the student do anything about it? Or, on another note, if the same message posted online were written on another public space with high traffic from Middlebury students, like in the middle of College Street, would we still be quiet about it?
The crux of this rant is not to condemn the people who use Middlebury Confessional or even to discourage its usage — the website has important social value, whether used to discuss “Most precious takeaways from Middlebury” to “Where can I get LSD?” Rather, it is by acquiescing to the violent hate speech on MiddFesh while simultaneously making it a campus-wide news event on other occasions, that we create a double standard and thereby fail our fellow Middlebury men and women.
Privacy is unrealistic on the internet nowadays, just look at the front page of any newspaper for the past month. That which transpires on the web is inextricably linked to the welfare of our school, as evidenced by the outpouring of hate from the flag-pulling incident on a national scale and the dialogue on campus regarding to homophobic content of Chance the Rapper’s lyrics on a much more intimate scale (with a large portion of this dialogue taking place on MiddFesh). Though this is primarily the responsibility of the Middlebury Confessional’s administrators as comments like these violate their Terms of Use agreement, if the school is as interested in preserving the air of respect and civility as it claims to be, it would be in its best interest to be consistent with the precedent it has set regarding hate speech and at least investigate students who publically threaten to “hatefuck” other students. But, at the same time, we cannot and should not rely on the administration to identify and solve these community problems for us. So, therefore, the more important question becomes: why are we silent?
(05/08/13 8:53pm)
On November 4, 2008, members of the American democratic process took one giant step towards racial equality by electing the first black President of the United States, Barack Obama. Just one day earlier, on November 3, members of the Middlebury community checked their emails and found plans for a new Center for the Comparative Study of Race and Ethnicity in Carr Hall.
The decision to provide a venue to the college community to encourage discussion about race and ethnicity at such a pivotal point in American history was no coincidence. Founder of the Center and now Dean of Students Shirley Collado cited the 2008 election and the accompanying discourse as an impetus for the Center’s founding.
In an interview with the Campus given at the time of the organization’s announcement, Collado said that students and faculty participating in the Center’s programs would not only “do an intellectual analysis of what’s taking place with race and politics in America, but how that is affecting us as a community.”
Five years later, Obama remains in the White House, but the leadership in the CCSRE is changing. Professor of American Studies and the Center’s incipient director Susan Burch is stepping down after five years of fostering the organization from a collective dream into a full-fledged institution that is woven into the fabric of the College.
This past Friday, the CCSRE held an open house to celebrate Burch’s work and to introduce fellow Professor of American Studies Roberto Lint Sagarena to the pre-existing community and potential incoming members as the new leadership for next year.
The Center, whose mission is to foster “interdisciplinary and comparative approaches for understanding formations of race and ethnicity and their effects on human relations,” employs the help of faculty, staff and students alike to convey its message.
There are two different types of official associations with the Center: participating faculty members and affiliated members. The former fulfill their commitment to the organization and its mission by teaching classes in which the examination of race and ethnicity play a central role (there were 11 offered this semester). The latter are persons who simply have a vested interest in the work of the Center, demonstrating their dedicaiton by taking classes offered by participating faculty members and attending activities sponsored by the Center.
Next year, Sagarena will step into Burch’s place as director. When asked about his plans for the organization, Sagarena mentioned the idea of adding an Ethnic Studies minor as well as growing the organization by increasing funds, sponsoring more events and adding more members.
“But, really, I’m just going to do my best to fit into the shoes of Susan,” Sagarena added. “She has done so much for this place—my most important goal for the years to come is to pick up where she left off.”
“When I first got here, the Center didn’t have a director or any real, effective leadership,” said Gabby Arca ’13, an affiliated member of the CCSRE, who attended the torch-passing ceremony on Friday. “Now, because of Susan, we have this incredible space for events, for meetings, for even just casual conversation, which might be the most impressive part about [the Center], because that’s what it’s all about: getting people to talk about these issues.”
Through Burch’s leadership, the Center has come to constitute a consortium of 38 faculty associates and nearly 100 affiliated members. Previous events have included a lecture from Peabody Award winner Majora Carter, brown bag lunch discussions with professors from other colleges and an entire symposium concerning race and ethnic constructs and their relationship to citizenship and immigration.
Not all of the events are brought in from the outside — many associates of the Center lead discussions, give presentations and hold forums displaying their own work.
“Of all the incredible presentations and talks and events I’ve seen since I first got involved with the Center, the most memorable would probably be Susan explaining her own work,” said Carllee James ’13, an affiliated member of the Center.
In addition to her managerial duties, Burch has authored and co-authored a number of books on the role of deaf individuals in the context of American society over the past decade. Her latest work, Unspeakable: The Story of Junius Wilson, interprets the life of the book’s namesake, a deaf black man who spent 76 years of his life in a North Carolina state mental hospital during the Jim Crow epoch and examines the complicated intersections of race and disability.
Burch’s works are available in the College Bookstore as well as on Amazon.com. To get involved with the organization, send an email to CCSRE@middlebury.edu with a few sentences that describe your professional and research interests, and how they might intersect with the goals of the organization. To learn more, stop by Carr Hall for details.
(05/01/13 8:55pm)
Tucked quietly away in the underbelly of Gifford Residence Hall, the Gamut Room, a venue for student art, music and food, has been just kinda hanging out for more than 40 years.
If you can find it, either by way of the Gifford amphitheater or the building’s basement, upon entering your attention is immediately demanded by the walls. Across every square foot of plaster lies a buffet of intricate and imaginative student artwork including 20-foot long pencil sketches, impressionistic paintings of the female body and a structural pillar wrapped entirely in tin foil. The combination of the room’s exhaustive art installations and the poor natural lighting makes for what somebody more cynical could call an artistic dungeon.
“The matte black ceiling doesn’t really help either,” says Bjorn Peterson ’15.5, the current president of the Gamut Room, but the lack of daylight doesn’t bother him too much because the nighttime is when the room really comes alive. Peterson, who runs the organization alongside seniors Tshering (Ty) Yudon ’13 and Teddy Pendergast ’13, is following a multi-decade tradition of leadership. In recent years, however, most of the presidential duties have consisted of just keeping the organization alive, though it wasn’t always this way.
The Gamut Room got its start back in the late 60s with two students: Rick Doste ’70 and Don Delano ’69. Doste, who had used the room in Gifford basement for months as a place to practice piano, was the talent, and Delano, who saw the campus’s need for a late night food outlet, was the money. The two opened the room as a venue where students could come in the wee hours of the night to hear Doste play and purchase snacks to fuel their incessant studying.
The Gamut Room, as it soon came to be called, experienced a period of social and quasi-political growth in the 70s as the room transitioned from a casual hangout spot to the epicenter of campus counterculture — providing a site for liberated personal expression and activist discourse.
It underwent some physical growth, too. Originally, the room was located on the other side of Gifford until the residential hall was redone a few decades later. There were two separate venues: the “Tea Room” and “The Bandroom.” The former was a quieter lounge area where the proprietors of the room would sell tea and, mostly, wine at $0.35 a cup, seven nights a week to a student body that was governed by the looser drinking laws of an era long passed. The latter, as its name would suggest, was much louder, providing a boisterous arena in which students could release all their energy pent up during the College’s famous epoch of political activism in the form of band concerts and debates. Then, when the dorm underwent renovations, the two rooms moved to the south side of Gifford and joined forces to become the singular Gamut Room we have today.
While the Gamut Room may not vend wine to students anymore, the Gamut Room does serve other items. In fact, most of the venue’s programming consists of a variety of students making their own food in the Gamut Room’s kitchen and selling it to their friends.
“When Proctor’s closed and you’re still hungry,” Peterson explains, “we want the mindset of the campus to basically be like ‘Oh, wait, the Gamut Room is still open and they definitely have food! I don’t have to starve!’”
Their weekly schedule comprises gastronomically gifted students preparing light fare that spans the spectrum of college cooking. For example, Monday nights start at seven with LOCALmotive, the duo of Annalise Carrington ’15 and Jordan Collins ’15.5 preparing healthy, gourmet dishes that emphasize the use of local ingredients, until the team of Clara Gottesman ’15, Aly Fassett-Carman ’15, Abby Karp ’14 and Ellen Kerchner ’15 takes over with their Crepe Night, making delicious thin French pancakes to order with just about any topping or filling under the sun.
In addition to student cuisine, the Gamut Room puts on concerts once every two weeks. Former headliners have included rising campus bands Alpenglow and Will Cuneo & The Heartbreakers. It also hosts The Moth, a monthly event dedicated to the art and craft of storytelling in which students and the occasional professor regale each other with tales from their own lives pertaining to a common theme, like “Food” or “Rude Awakenings.”
However, there is a growing concern that the space isn’t being allowed to realize its full potential. The reason? Frankly, consensus seems to be that not enough people know about it.
“It’s such an underappreciated spot on campus,” said Katherine Kucharczyk ’16, a regular attendee of the LOCALmotive shift. “The food is delicious. The atmosphere is so cozy. I really hope people at this school will give this place the recognition it deserves.”
Kucharczyk isn’t alone in her worries. Even President Peterson is concerned about the attendance.
“We need more shifts,” he said. “There are a ton of opportunities for kids to share their talents here — we just need to make sure they know about it.”
The Gamut Room does not advertise in the events calendar with the school. To get involved with the organization, you can email Bjorn at bapeterson@middlebury.edu or view their schedule at go/gamutroom. Or, if you’re near Gifford anytime after the dining halls shut down, why not duck in and say hi? As Peterson says, “If the door’s open, you’re always welcome.”