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(04/27/23 10:03am)
Last Thursday, we published what we expected to be one of our least controversial editorials of the semester: another opinion piece centered around work-life balance and managing the pressures of Middlebury’s busyness culture. We’ve opined on this topic before without inciting outrage — so we were surprised to receive a Letter to the Editor entitled “You can’t have your cake and eat it too” that criticized both this editorial and the Editorial Board that penned it.
(04/06/23 10:05am)
For my first seven semesters at Middlebury, there existed a beloved, clandestine spot tucked into the ground floor on Proctor Dining Hall. Affectionately known as “Proc Basement,” this space provided a haven for dancers across campus to hold formal rehearsals or casually work on choreography. The only other studio spaces on campus with a full mirror — the Mahaney dance studios and the boxing gym in the athletic center — exist on the margins of campus. (The availability of those spaces is also fickle; the former is prioritized for the Dance Department and the latter is often utilized for PE classes.) Proc Basement, however, was a centrally located and communal space that provided a creative outlet for anyone who sought it out.
(10/15/20 9:59am)
The illustrious institution of American higher education is a machine that runs on pressure, prestige and promise. But what if these promises — of prosperity, stability and satisfaction — are distressingly false? Colleges, whether subliminally or explicitly, are revered as equalizers that bring students from a myriad of walks of life to a level playing field.
As feminist scholar bell hooks wrote in Teaching to Transgress, “we are all encouraged to cross the threshold of the classroom believing we are entering a democratic space — a free zone where the desire to study and learn makes us all equal. And even if we enter accepting the reality of class differences, most of us still believe knowledge will be meted out in fair and equal proportions.”
Bell hooks outlines a widely held belief that has remained remarkably unyielding. Students fork over hundreds of thousands of dollars knowing damn well they may be up to their knees in debt for the rest of their life. For many, the allure appears worth it — but have these fair and equal proportions ever existed?
“We foster the inquiry, equity, and agency necessary for them to practice ethical citizenship at home and far beyond our Vermont campus,” reads our current mission statement, adopted in 2017. Whether this statement is intentionally crafted for glossy admissions catalogs or not, it’s imperative to note that Middlebury, in their educational doctrine, promises equity. They promise, as bell hooks describes, to beckon us into an egalitarian “free zone.” But there are gaping holes in this promise, holes that are perhaps camouflaged by guarantees of need-blind financial aid — as countless invisible, inevitable price tags emerge during our years here.
At Middlebury, there is an unspoken pressure to frequent the Snow Bowl and to eat out a few nights a month in town. Whatever puffy winter coat is on trend in a particular year costs a couple hundred dollars. You’re expected to afford weekly trips to BevCo to replenish your drink stash, in addition to the conventional costs of textbooks and parking fees. And if you don’t check all of these boxes (and more), you’re “missing out” on the authentic college experience. These pressures are already heightened within a normal semester, and our current circumstances only serve to exacerbate them.
This week, when news broke that J-Term will be conducted remotely and the spring semester will be pushed back, students immediately began planning for those three unanticipated and vacant months. And while it’s unsurprising that the discourse surrounding these plans seem to disproportionately focus on renting Airbnbs or houses in Middlebury with friends, this reality remains increasingly unsettling in terms of access and financial feasibility. I’m not going to fault anyone for trying to salvage the cherished Midd moments that Covid-19 unexpectedly deprived them of, but it’s imperative that we acknowledge how these independently replicated college experiences are widely unattainable. While many shrugged their shoulders in response to last week’s email, gleefully realizing the extended opportunity to hit the slopes and slug PBR away from the watchful eye of PubSafe, others panicked as they reckoned with the affordability of these winter months, or even the potential reality of not having a home to return to.
Over the last 6 months, many have justifiably questioned whether or not the entirety of the college experience in itself is fraudulent. In mid-March, when college campuses across the nation rapidly emptied, students and their families nationwide were forced to reckon with their monumental financial sacrifices — questioning the value of the education they empty their pockets for. This academic year, Middlebury increased tuition by 3.73%, tipping the overall tuition expenditure over the $74k mark. However, only 12% of fall courses are being taught fully in-person. Is Middlebury asserting that contrived online discussion board posts and awkward breakout room silences are equivalent to the authentic classroom experience? Are we paying for a stimulating and fulfilling education — learning because we truly want to — or are we paying for a piece of paper that ascribes a nebulous, flimsy promise of lifelong financial comfort?
If we reframe our perspective to think of Middlebury College as a business, then it becomes evident that they expect a return on their investment: hefty alumni donations 50 years down the line, maybe a couple big names that can be touted to prospective students, implying: we made them what they are...we could make you like that too. This begs the question: what is Middlebury actually selling to us? Sleek gray stone buildings and cushy dorm rooms plucked straight out of a Pinterest algorithm? An “exotic” semester abroad sandwiched in between lucrative internships? Or are we solely paying for the promise of profit, as Americans with a bachelor’s degree earn, on average, 84% more in their lifetimes than they would with just a high school diploma? It is becoming increasingly unclear if we are more accurately positioned as hedge fund clients than students, and if our education has become another marketable product instead of an invaluable, unparalleled pedagogical experience.
But what about our investment — does the promise of economic prosperity post-Middlebury actually carry weight? If so, how is this weight distributed? Although a Bachelor’s degree, on average, is worth $2.8 million over a lifetime, Black and Latinx graduates earn nearly a million dollars less over the same span as compared to their white and Asian counterparts.
Therefore we must ask who exactly our distinguished education benefits. Despite the recent, critical underscoring of higher education inequities, this is a precedent that is woven into the very fabric and founding of the American university. Students are now wondering, and no longer hypothetically, what the purpose of their education is. And despite the ubiquitous nature of these unrelenting and panicked questions, the unease among students is far from comparable across class backgrounds. So much is unknown — will our investment actually pay off in a world that becomes more erratically uncertain each day? But one thing we do know now is that we can no longer naively laud Middlebury as a great equalizer — Covid or not.
Lily Laesch ’23 is an Opinion Editor for The Middlebury Campus
(07/03/20 10:00pm)
Update — July 3
AAUP chapter president Laurie Essig said in an email to The Campus that the AAUP would seek to support both Dr. Hernández-Romero and/or the accused professors if either went forward with filing an official complaint. However, she also stated the AAUP’s concern that “the accusations made in the letter were reiterated as factual rather than accusations in [the] letter to the community signed by senior leadership,” referencing the administration’s response. “It is the right of everyone accused of wrongdoing to have a clear and codified process of investigation and if those charges prove to be false or unsubstantiated, to have their reputations publicly restored,” Essig wrote.
——
After departing professor Marissel Hernández-Romero leveled accusations of racism at colleagues in a community-wide email over the weekend, four of the named professors sent an email of their own to administrators Thursday morning denouncing the college’s response to the allegations and calling for due process in determining the legitimacy of the claims.
Thursday’s email, signed by Spanish Professors Enrique García, Laura Lesta-García and Patricia Saldarriaga and Film and Media Culture Professor David Miranda-Hardy, was later made semi-public when it was posted to a popular student Facebook meme group, “Middlebury Memes for Crunchy Teens,” which has over 3,000 members, mostly current and former students.
Screenshots of the email were posted in the group by Sandra Luo ’18 on Thursday evening, with the caption “Imagine… [non-Black people of color] being held accountable for their anti-blackness??? Not at Midd apparently.” Another former student, Brenna Wilson ’20, shared the same screenshots in a Twitter post several hours earlier (their Tweet was public at the time of its posting and had garnered 32 likes by Friday afternoon, at which point Wilson’s account was made private).
It was not immediately clear how Luo, who did not respond to a request for comment by press time, came into possession of the email.
The domain list of the Middlebury chapter of the American Association of University Professors (AAUP) — a national organization advocating for faculty governance and academic freedom — was copied on Thursday’s email. That domain list contains the email addresses of nearly 200 faculty and staff members. In a Facebook message to The Campus, Wilson wrote that “many people got [the email] through AAUP,” but declined to say who had shared the email with them.
It is unknown if the Middlebury AAUP is pursuing a collective effort to advocate for the accused faculty members, and neither chapter president Laurie Essig nor vice president Jamie McCallum responded to requests for comment.
Sent from Enrique García’s account and addressed to Chief Diversity Officer Miguel Fernández, Dean of Faculty Sujata Moorti and President Laurie Patton, the letter decisively criticizes these administrators, saying that the statement “essentially admitted guilt for us without any consultation or investigation, by qualifying Professor Hernández-Romero’s allegations as ‘incidents of racism’.” The professors, however, did not explicitly deny such allegations in their email.
“We are very distressed by the administration’s failure to take a fair stance in the face of these accusations and before due process was given to the Middlebury POC employees named in the email,” the opening paragraph reads. The signees also note the damage they believe the administration’s statement will have on their professional careers, particularly in relation to promotions and reappointments.
The email also focuses on the identities of the professors themselves, stating that the administrative statement “fails to acknowledge that we ourselves are being disproportionately affected by white supremacy, despite the fact that we are the ones disproportionately advancing the anti-racist cause.” The four professors state their belief that undermining the accused — as people of color, “women of historically oppressed ethnic minorities” and queer people of color — served to exacerbate the silencing of marginalized individuals at Middlebury.
The email closes by outlining the professors’ demands for transparency and apology going forward. They ask the administration to restate the accusations as allegations, as they have yet to be verified, and request an apology both for the administration’s response and subsequent ramifications and for “amplifying” Dr. Hernández-Romero’s email by deleting it from the servers.
The authors of the email did not respond to requests for comment. In an email to the Campus, Hernández-Romero noted her disappointment that the message had been leaked, before writing that she is “more than open to have a conversation they never wanted in three years.”
Student reactions to the four professors’ email, expressed through comments on Luo’s Facebook post, mirrored the sentiment of her caption — criticizing the professors for not appearing to maintain accountability on their parts. Students also denounced the authors’ centering of their own identities, arguing that personal identity does not absolve them of allegedly engaging in anti-Black rhetoric.
While Luo’s post did not appear to make light or humor of the email in the ways a “meme” typically would, alumni had in previous days called for group members to publish content updating them on developments following Hernández-Romero’s original email. The posting of information on the platform meant for “memes” is not necessarily unprecedented — students have previously used the page to air grievances on controversial campus issues and to seek information.
Fernández, the Chief Diversity Officer, announced in a school-wide email on Thursday a plan to offer “anti-racism workshops” to staff and faculty later in the summer.
This is a developing story and will be updated.
Editor’s note: Editor at Large James Finn is a minor in the Spanish department.
(07/01/20 6:12pm)
Marissel Hernández-Romero, departing visiting assistant professor of Spanish and Portuguese, sent an email to the Middlebury community on Sunday evening describing in detail a series of alleged incidents of racism she experienced in her department and at the institution during her three years as a faculty member.
Hernández-Romero, who is Black and Puerto-Rican, presented a weighty critique of systematic marginalization at the college punctuated with descriptions of allegations involving nine faculty members, all referenced by name.
“I came to Middlebury College in 2017 with a positive attitude, and within a month here, my opinion shifted to survival mode. A sense of powerlessness and marginalization took over my perspective of my place here,” read the email’s opening. “I am an outsider. I was hired, but never accepted, nor welcomed.”
The email was sent to all students, faculty, retired professors and alumni, as well as many administrators, student organizations and other individuals.
Hernández-Romero’s email went on to criticize the institution’s treatment of people of color. She states that the institution ignores and oppresses people of color — expecting them to assimilate into a hostile culture of whiteness and exclusivity without professional or personal support.
Her email frames the college as hypocritical — an institution that claims to advocate for faculty of color while protecting tenured faculty who defend “the continued and uninterrogated comfort of privilege under the guise of ‘free speech.’”
The email opened with a claim that Professor of Political Science Murray Dry made a threatening statement in 2017 directed at non-White faculty and administrators, which she interpreted as meaning that “challenging white privilege will bring worse consequences.” Dry denied this accusation in an email to the Campus, also noting that the meeting in question — centered on racial discrimination — was closed and confidential, therefore limiting his ability to discuss it.
“I would also observe that the statement attributed to me by Professor Hernández-Romero does not reflect my views on this important subject,” Dry wrote in the email . “I am more committed than ever to doing the work necessary to help make Middlebury [a supportive] environment for everyone.”
The remainder of the accused professors teach in Hernández-Romero’s own department. Those allegations vary in severity — from an interpreted racial microaggression from Professor Laura Lesta García to an alleged comment from Professor Patricia Saldrriaga suggesting that Hernández-Romero was an affirmative action hire. Both García and Saldarriaga directed the Campus to the Dean of Faculty when reached for comment.
Another assertion in the email alleges that Associate Professor of Luso-Hispanic Studies Marcos Rohena-Madrazo addressed Hernández-Romero with an offensive term.
“Professor Marcos Rohena called me ‘pendeja’ in front of a candidate, and two other male professors white passing, Enrique García and David Miranda, found it funny and inoffensive,” Hernández-Romero wrote. “When I confronted [Professor] Rohena, and asked if he would call other white female professors in the department such as he firmly said: ‘no, never.’” (“Pendeja” is a Spanish slang term that loosely translates to “dumbass” in English. The letter “a” at the end of the word denotes a female recipient, therefore making this a distinctly gendered term.)
Professors Rohena-Madrazo and García did not respond to a request for comment. Professor Miranda Hardy declined to comment.
Roughly two hours after Hernández-Romero sent the email, the college deleted it from Middlebury servers, removing the message from the inboxes of those who had received it. This retraction was met with outcry from students on social media, who criticized the removal as an action of censorship that violated free speech doctrines.
On Monday afternoon, seventeen hours after the contentious deletion, Chief Officer of Diversity Miguel Fernández sent a “Message of Accountability,” co-signed by Dean of Faculty Sujata Moorti and President Laurie Patton, to the campus community.
“[Hernández-Romero’s] email demonstrates the ways that individual incidents of racism and our inability to respond to such incidents in a way that addressed the underlying climate both reflect and reinforce racism at the systemic level,” Fernández wrote in his email to the community Monday. “We must be accountable for responding to incidents as they arise and for addressing the culture that enables such incidents to occur.”
Notably, Fernández is one of the named faculty members accused in Hernández-Romero’s email. She claims that he was dismissive when she inquired about race-related policy, an allegation he did not comment on in his message to the community. Fernández did not respond to The Campus’ inquiry.
In an email sent to the Campus, Hernández-Romero also alleged that Fernández ignored emails she sent about allegations of harassment regarding Department Chair Mario Higa. When reached for comment about this allegation, Fernández wrote in an email to the Campus that “I have never failed to take any claim of harassment seriously and to follow through appropriately and empathetically. I am fully aware of my obligations and responsibilities.” Higa did not respond to requests for comment.
According to Fernández’s statement to the community, Hernández-Romero’s email was deleted from the college server “in order to prevent an influx of reply-all messages from the thousands of recipients and the additional harm that might have been caused if anyone responded in ways that did attempt to dismiss or make light of her experiences.”
For many students, the acknowledgement came too late. By Monday morning, Dr. Hernández-Romero’s email had been widely circulated on Twitter and Facebook, and was posted on Instagram by accounts such as @dearmidd, @dearpwi, and @blackatmidd. Many individuals took it upon themselves to disseminate it, such as former sophomore SGA senator Paul Flores-Clavel ’22, who forwarded the email to all students. Student organizations such as SNEG, WRMC and JUNTOS followed suit in distributing the email to their registered domain lists.
Joel Machado ’22 composed an email template for students to send to administrators, which demanded both student oversight for the Anti-Racism fund and that the SLG investigate the faculty accused in Dr. Hernández-Romero’s email. “Rest assured knowing that the student body will continue to hold you accountable to the promises that have been made by President Patton,” Machado wrote in reference to Patton’s recent communications on racism within the Middlebury Community.
Monday night’s town hall on the college’s plans for re-opening in September led to conversation about the allegations that had been disclosed the night before. SGA Vice Presidents Roni Lezama ’22 and Sophia Lundberg ’21.5 along with SGA President John Schurer ’21 gave introductory remarks that called for all students to read the email. President Patton later alluded to Dr. Hernández-Romero’s allegations.
“We need to focus on accountability particularly as it relates to systemic racism and in the ways at Middlebury we must be accountable in addressing that racism,” Patton said. “Our policies of due process and confidentiality require that we cannot address this.” She then doubled down on her commitment to intensive fundraising in these areas.
In an email to The Campus sent on Wednesday — two days later — Patton stated that “[t]he deletion of the email in no way reduces our need to confront systemic racism, to diminish the deep pain that racism inflicts on individuals at Middlebury, and to hold public discussions as we work toward changing our institutional culture.”
Middlebury’s general counsel Hannah Ross affirmed that she cannot speak on the allegations, as proceedings under the code of Faculty Misconduct are completely confidential. The faculty misconduct code in question states in Section 3 that, "The principle of presumed innocence applies: until the process of review is complete, the faculty member is presumed innocent." It is unclear if any such review is taking place at this point, as Dean of Faculty Sujata Moorti did not respond when asked for comment.
The only faculty member named in Hernández-Romero’s email who was not the subject of an accusation was History Professor Darién Davis. Hernández-Romero alleged that the administration attempted to impose a harassment claim against Davis — who is Black — from her against her will. “I never had any problem with Darién,” she wrote in an email to the Campus.
She did, however, describe receiving a message from Davis she deemed as inappropriate, but that she did not feel uncomfortable or harassed. She did not further describe the contents of that message. In her communications with the Campus, she repeated that it was Higa, not Davis, against whom she had allegedly attempted to file a harassment claim.
Hernández-Romero is not departing Middlebury earlier than planned, as her visiting professor contract was three years long. She has accepted a tenure track position at an institution in New York that she declined to name. She also declined to provide evidence verifying her claims, although she stated that she has indicatory notes, emails, and witness accounts in her possession.
Hernández-Romero says that in the days since she sent the email, students and some professors from other departments have reached out to show their support. At the time of publication, the administration has yet to contact her.
“A lot of Black, Hispanic, and Latinx students have contacted me to show support and to share with me their experience[s] here at Midd, which are heartbreaking,” Hernández-Romero wrote in her email to The Campus. She noted the uproar that students are making on social media, which has become home to a myriad of calls to action on her behalf.
Hernández-Romero’s own statement to students was circulated on Instagram by Lily Colón ‘21.5, a student in her Socio-Culture of Salsa Music class this semester.
“I urge you all to continue denouncing racism until our institutions and people that run them change,” Hernández-Romero wrote. “I imagine for many of you, your experience may mirror mine, and for that I am sorry.” She then went on to reinforce the messaging in her email, calling upon students to listen and act fearlessly as they continue to move through a world seeped with systemic and institutional racism.
Colón, who has maintained a close relationship with her now-departed professor, fortified the feelings of isolation and hurt that afflicted Hernández-Romero at Middlebury.
“The constant teaching they have to do only to be continually undermined and pushed aside by administration and other students didn’t sit well with her,” Colón said in an email to the Campus, in reference to Black faculty and other professors of color. “Her email shows the ways the school failed her to the point where her hope turned into rage and frustration.”
Colón, who was working on a symposium project with Hernández-Romero and one other student, noted that the three of them met often. “I would like to say the email does not begin to cover the frequency or severity of the abuse she received here,” Colón said.
Hernández-Romero described this rage and frustration as beleaguering throughout her time at Middlebury. She stated that she had already been planning to denounce the racism she experienced when the Luso-Hispanic department released their Black Lives Matter statement last week, which she saw as hypocritical.
Dr. Hernández-Romero concluded her email by imploring all members of the Middlebury community to enact change and hold the institution accountable.
“Create a record of all these events, that are not rumors, but real traumatic experience[s],” Dr. Hernández-Romero wrote. “Make noise. Enough of hiding these events, enough of being off the record.”
(06/22/20 4:18am)
CCI announces new “Midd Gigs” program
The Center for Careers and Internships launched Midd Gigs, a new initiative empowering alumni to post short-term projects for Middlebury students and recent graduates. Students can join through their Midd2Midd profile — a module piloted by the center helping to connect students with alumni who can assist them with exploring careers and gaining professional networking skills. Midd Gigs, however, stands on its own as a distinct interim venture.
“A Midd Gig is a 1–2 week professional assignment (paid or unpaid) similar to those given to interns and new hires. They allow you to build your project skills, explore different career paths, and network with our fabulous alumni,” read an all-student email announcing the program’s launch.
Students may take on multiple projects if accepted, so long as they “can handle the workload and deliver high-quality work,” according to the Midd Gigs guidelines. Throughout the process, students can become familiar with a given industry, create networking opportunities, and strengthen their own leadership and management skills. Participants are expected to follow Middlebury community standards and relevant Covid-19 protocol for the duration of their projects.
SGA reveals community donation matching campaign
The Student Government Association (SGA), in collaboration with the Office of the President and the Office of Advancement, put into motion a community-wide initiative that would match student donations to five organizations committed to racial justice and equity. Last Wednesday, after a week-long nomination process, The SGA announced the five selected organizations: Black Lives Matter, The Innocence Project, Equal Justice Initiative, ACLU Vermont, and the Rutland Area NAACP.
Until June 30th, donations from students, alumni, faculty and staff to one or more of the five organizations will be matched with a gift of up to $250 for each donor, with a total match limit of $25,000. Similar campaigns have taken shape at peer institutions such as Barnard, Bowdoin and Amherst colleges.
The SGA solicited nominations for organizations dedicated to racial justice and equity in an all-student email sent on June 9. The five organizations were chosen from the pool of organizations put forward by students. In the selection process, the SGA prioritized organizations that received the most nominations, but also ensured a balance between local initiatives and national, global organization, according to the SGA’s Instagram account.
The SGA launched the campaign in the wake of worldwide protests against police brutality following the murder of George Floyd on May 25th. The SGA has made clear their intentions to support the Black community at this time. “We know that bigotry, intolerance, and structural inequality will not be solved with a singular institutional action or a one-time donation,” read the email from the SGA. “We hope that this campaign is a step toward fostering a community that is committed to practicing anti-racism at Middlebury and beyond.”
(05/07/20 10:00am)
I’ve spent the past week paging through Jia Tolentino’s “Trick Mirror,” a collection of nine brazen and spirited essays that explore what it means to exist in the messy and delusional world of contemporary pop culture. Under the umbrella of millennial angst, she writes about religion, drugs, feminism and, namely, internet culture.
“As a medium, the internet is defined by a built-in performance incentive. In real life, you can walk around and be visible to others. But you can’t just walk around and be visible on the internet—for anyone to see you, you have to act,” writes Tolentino in her opening essay, “The I in the Internet.” Unfortunately, as ordered by law, we cannot walk around and be visible to others at the current moment. Instead, all of our nuanced layers are being relegated to the digital realm, meaning our online world isn’t just a part of our lives anymore, it is our lives.
This performance is especially dangerous because it is slated to continually reinforce the unspoken rules for how adolescents (and women especially) should strive to be in the hyper-visible world of social media. These guidelines tend to go something like this:
You want your Instagrammed self to be beautiful yet down-to-earth, impeccably put together yet effortless. Your Twitter needs to be funny, but not like you’re trying too hard — therefore candidly and gloriously self-deprecating. The version of self that appears on your LinkedIn profile should be, in essence, employable, but not obnoxious. Your Tinder profile, which may be glanced at for just a couple seconds, should make you appear desirable yet natural. God forbid your Spotify listens are #basic, but they shouldn’t be too #indie either.
All of these online selves merge to create the amalgamation that we are told is the ideal twenty-something adolescent: to be witty but self-aware, mature but entertaining, undoubtedly humble but unquestionably gorgeous. This ideal twenty-something individual should encounter struggles, but only cute and palatable ones, lest their real trauma compromises their imperfectly perfect internet presence.
I, too, am guilty of trying to squeeze all of my selves into these elusive boxes, of attempting to flawlessly position myself atop this impossible tightrope. And, if pulling this endeavor seems challenging and daunting, there’s no need to worry, according to the social media deities, because registering more accounts (see: the finsta) is free. I know that it’s absurd that I have 2 Instagram accounts and 2 Twitter handles. This instinct is deeply ingrained in the pressure of catering one’s self to different audiences, all of which provide distinctive forms of validation. As Tolentino says, “People who maintain a public internet profile are building a self that can be viewed simultaneously by their mom, their boss, their potential future bosses, their eleven-year-old nephew, their past and future sex partners, their relatives who loathe their politics, as well as anyone who cares to look for any possible reason. On the internet, a highly functional person is one who can promise everything to an indefinitely increasing audience at all times.”
And that’s not to say that Midd Kids aren’t performative in person. When I arrived on campus, I experienced a fair bit of culture shock. I was expecting the crunchy-ness of Vermont to dampen the stifling East Coast preppiness I had hoped to avoid. Mostly, I was wrong — my plans to wear sweatpants to the majority of my classes dissipated as I was confronted with the seemingly perfect personas of my peers. This encapsulates an overarching pressure of the Middlebury experience: the expectation to do everything well but to also do it effortlessly, a dichotomy that shapes internet culture, too. We brag about how late we stayed up writing that paper but we somehow still look perky and ready to seize the day at Proc breakfast.
Luckily, in the real, non-online world, we get the opportunities to see each other's genuine selves, despite the ridiculous façades of busyness that plague higher education. We can tell by even the smallest mannerisms when our friends are happy or hurting — or when our professors are in a good mood or a bad mood. On campus, there is an intimacy and vulnerability present that doesn’t hinge on likes or retweets. Set against the backdrop of the Green Mountains, we see it all — the tears, the fatigue, the annoyance, the pain. But we also see the heartfelt joy, the jubilant pride and the uninhibited gratitude. Now, however, this authenticity has been lost, unable to be emailed or Zoom-ed or DM-ed.
The human experience was never meant to be replicated digitally. The vibrant occurrences and interactions that remind us what it's like to be, well, alive, have become fragmented without the help of proximity or context. We’re left solely with our fabricated online selves, steeped in faux-happiness and performative attention-grabbing. “The internet is governed by incentives that make it impossible to be a full person while interacting with it [...],” Tolentino writes. “Less and less of us will be left, not just as individuals but also as community members, as a collective of people facing various catastrophes.”
Amidst these terrible and strange circumstances, we have a chance to consciously rethink our online worlds. Already, we are seeing social media become a little more reflective of our IRL authenticity. It’s less filtered, less contrived. But this is only the beginning, and overhauling the internet machine most of us have bought into won’t be a simple task.
I’ll admit I don’t have the answers. As I’m sure is the case with many of you, if you see me on College Street or in Proc lounge, I won’t have my hair tucked into a perfect messy bun, stomach pulled in and shoulders back, outfit matching, while looking ineffably at ease — like what any Instagram feed might have you believe. It’s more likely that you’ll pass me falling very, very, painfully on ice, rushing late to class unable to see because I’ve forgotten to put my contacts in and my shirt is inside-out. (Of course, I’m doing all of these things and worse in lockdown, but you don’t see it — what Tolentino refers to as “selective concealment.")
Let’s face it: the internet, in all of its feverish madness and glory, was meant to supplement our everyday lives, not exist on its own. But right now, it’s kind of all we got. This, more than ever, is a decisive time for us to parse through the factors that have led us to create such disparate on and off-line selves. Until we figure out a way to accurately express our faults, eccentricities and emotions in a digital format, we’ll continue to fight an uphill battle between our true identities and our idealized self-image.
Lily Laesch ’23 is one of The Campus’s Opinion editors.
(04/30/20 9:56am)
Early this fall, on a quiet evening, Community Council Co-Chair Roni Lezama ’22 was in his dorm room doing homework when he received a call from Baishakhi Taylor, the dean of students and Lezama’s fellow Co-Chair of Community Council.
“Where are you?” he recalled her saying. “Come to Old Chapel.” Lezama, fearing the worst, hopped on his bike and zipped across campus as fast as he could, just as the sun was beginning to set. But when he arrived at Taylor’s office, it was clear that no school-wide, calamitous emergency had taken place. Instead, Taylor just wanted Lezama’s advice to ensure student voices were represented in the midst of confusion and pushback in response to the announcement regarding the installation of new security cameras.
To Lezama, this immediate inclination has characterized Taylor’s overarching mission as Middlebury’s Dean of Students — to have each and every voice within the student body inform her decisions. Known for responding to emails in mere minutes, she has been described by those who worked closely with her as exceptionally communicative and uniquely receptive.
“I can’t even put into words how accessible she was to students,” Lezama said. “There was a sense of urgency, but not from an optics perspective. She actually cared about what students were thinking about.”
Such instincts, in essence, make clear the sorrow that many are feeling in response to the news of Taylor’s departure. President Laurie Patton, in a school-wide email earlier this month, announced that Taylor would be leaving Middlebury to assume the position of Dean of the College and Vice President of Student Life at Smith College, a private women’s college in Northampton, Mass. and member of the Seven Sisters, effective July 1. As an assistant professor of Gender, Sexuality, and Feminist Studies and the faculty mentor for the BOLD Women’s Leadership Initiative, women’s education has been paramount within Taylor’s own life.
“I came to the U.S. to study women’s studies,” Taylor, who grew up and completed her undergraduate education in India, said. “More than ever, I would like to focus on women leadership at an institutional level, and I’m grateful that Middlebury prepared me for that.” She also cited accessibility to her family as another motivation for the transition. The majority of her family lives in India, and proximity to a major airport — Boston Logan in this case— has proven to be even more critical in the context of her father’s passing last year. Her husband works in Washington, D.C.
Before coming to Middlebury, Taylor served as the Associate Dean of Trinity College of Arts and Sciences at Duke University, where Patton was her mentor and supervisor. Taylor was also a faculty member at the Duke Center for South Asian Studies and the program in Education.
A focal point of Taylor’s tenure at Middlebury has been fostering a productive, harmonious relationship between academic and student life. Once a week, she fielded advice and facilitated conversation with her student advisory group, which is composed of students representing different grades, interests and backgrounds.
“No process is perfect, but I’ve tried to get us to a more student-centric approach,” she said. “It’s about how we continue to meet student needs in a holistic and integrated way.”
Student Government Association President Varsha Vijayakumar ’20, who worked closely with Taylor, expressed gratitude for her insight and support during her presidential term, specifically citing her balanced feedback, institutional knowledge and general openness.
“She’s really good at tapping into our thoughts and is really keen on listening to our fears and what excites us,” Vijayakumar said. “She harnesses that and truly takes it into account.”
For Vijayakumar and Lezama, Taylor has stood out as a member of administration who has routinely kept them and other students in the loop regarding the goings-on in Old Chapel. While Taylor may have paved the way, they hope this precedent will continue.
“She was not afraid to separate her role as an administrator and [her role], dare I say, as a friend,” Lezama said, also noting her consistent support for first-generation and low-income students. “She just wanted to care for and support you, and if she couldn’t do it through her powers as an administrator, she would use whatever devices she had.”
Vijayakumar also believes that having closer, more personal relationships with administrators will only serve to help promote more productive and empathetic conversation.
“[Baishakhi] should be the rule, not the exception,” Vijayakumar said.
Lezama believes that the next dean of students will have big shoes to fill when it comes to student advocacy and administrative clarity. “I’m really going to miss her,” he said.
Meanwhile, Taylor’s advice for her successor is simple: “Listen closely to the students.”
(04/02/20 10:00am)
“Are you coming home tomorrow?” I texted my mom on my third day of social isolation, still in a hazy state of heartbreak and denial and seeking a familiar comfort.
A minute later, she responded: “This makes me sad. I don’t think so.”
Not the answer I wanted, but the one I knew was coming. As an internal medicine physician at the Seattle Swedish Medical Hospital, my mother had finished her four shifts for the week. And yet she still had to stand by on call, waiting.
At the time, internal hospital projections said it would be 10 days until Seattle — where the first American coronavirus death took place — looked like Italy. This wasn’t hard to believe: All over the city, hospitals had canceled all elective surgeries and non-essential appointments in order to transform entire wings to prepare for the coming influx of Covid-19 patients. On a soccer field where I used to play, they’d begun construction of a 200-bed field hospital. By all accounts, it would be mere days until the healthcare systems were overrun and overextended — and so my mom stayed, to linger amidst the strange calm that preceded the terrifying, inevitable storm of patients.
After I left for college, my family moved to North Central Washington, with my mom commuting in and out of Seattle for work. Now, she remains in the city alone, unable to return to her family, and each day that passes without her feels like a tremendous loss. It may be safer for me out here, but it is stranger; especially now that the physical presence of my mom has been replaced with a speakerphone that occupies the fifth spot at the dinner table.
Already, my mother is beginning to feel the strain. At 3 a.m. on the same night my mom confirmed she would not be returning home, she checked herself into urgent care with unusually high blood pressure accompanied by a serious anxiety attack. This was the result of a vicious cycle of news consumption and somber conference calls in regards to ventilators, masks, fatality rates and testing availability. In an eerie late-night role reversal, she was reassured by the urgent care specialist that many other doctors felt the same way, and then dispatched. Moments like those challenge my own false preconceptions about healthcare workers, who seem like these invincible and untouchable beings that will swoop in to save us all. In reality, they’re significantly more vulnerable than most — and their ability to effectively do their jobs hinges on us.
In fact, for many healthcare providers, it is a manner of when, not if, they will become patients themselves. Nationwide, many are opting to sew their own masks or use bandanas as the medical supply quickly depletes. Additionally, all over the country, the burden of hazardous care is fragmenting families like mine, as many clinicians opt to separate from loved ones instead of risking exposing them to the virus.
In the weeks leading up to my departure from Middlebury, I called my mom once a day (if not multiple times) to worry and ask ridiculous questions and then worry some more. I relied on her in each moment of coronavirus-adjacent uncertainty while still on campus — but now it had become apparent that I needed to stop. I needed to stop asking her if my persistent cough meant the world was ending. I needed to stop pretending she was this untouchable and omniscient superwoman who could instantly assuage my unease. (I’m now forbidden from uttering anything along the lines of “I’m bored” to her, as she reminded me that she would give up her frenzied panic and despair for boredom in an instant.) What she is up against is unimaginable, and far more dismal than my not-leaving-the-couch and missing-my-friends grumpiness will ever be. Last week, my mom jokingly asked who I thought my 14-year old brother would prefer as a legal guardian. I wondered how much pain was disguised behind her lighthearted tone.
It may be months before I see my mom again, but this time I’m not across the country at Middlebury. I’m mere hours away, wrangling my siblings in some messy semblance of fabricated mothering, trying and failing to fill her shoes. The other day, during one of our frequent, petty arguments about whose turn it was to load the dishwasher, my younger brother uttered one of his favorite lines: “Don’t tell me what to do, you’re not my mom.” But then he paused, letting a tiny, nervous laugh escape. “Well, I guess now, you kind of are.”
When we talk about “flattening the curve”, we are not just looking to protect obscure and cryptic bureaucratic systems. The framework of these institutions is comprised of valiant individuals who are not immune, and not superhuman. And yet despite their own humanity and susceptibility, they will continue to show up even if there are not enough ICU beds, or ventilators, or testing kits, or equipment to keep them safe. My mom stays at work for you, miles and hours away from her loved ones. Please, please stay at home for her.
Lily Laesch ’23 is one of The Campus’s Opinion editors.
(02/20/20 10:58am)
On a typical day, Torre Davy ’21 will see maybe one or two posts on the “Middlebury Memes for Crunchy Teens” Facebook page, which he administers. But on Jan. 22, when an op-ed published in The Campus announced the return of Charles Murray, a whopping 39 memes were posted in the group, followed by a continuous barrage of content over the next few days.
The page, which boasts nearly 3,000 members, is home to a flurry of online student activity that usually centers on day-to-day student grievances — dining hall lines, class registration, job searches and finals-week panic. However, the page can also serve as a safe haven for students to air deeper frustrations during campus controversies.
Katie Corrigan ’19 founded the page in 2017 as a forum to vent with her friends after the events of Murray’s most recent visit to campus. Now, as Middlebury prepares for Murray’s third visit, many students are once again leaning into humor as both a coping mechanism and a means of opining on the invitation.
“I think humor’s great, especially for our generation, because it’s a space where people can get angry but still make jokes about it so it’s not purely a bad thing,” Davy said. Davy also said he recognizes the importance of having a forum that exists for independent student expression, which also has the ability to unite thousands of students through comedy and shared experiences.
Davy did not anticipate the influence that the meme page would have when he took over for Corrigan last year.
“The growth has just been crazy to the point where it has become a major source of information for students,” Davy said. “It’s giving you real news in a satirical way.”
The other major source of comedic relief on campus is the satirical publication The Local Noodle. Originally the brainchild of Ellie Simon ’19.5, an independent scholar who majored in Humor Studies, The Noodle is now spearheaded by Editor in Chief Henry Cronic ’21.
“I do think comedy serves a very important role in regard [to larger issues] because it allows people to talk about it in a way that doesn’t always lead to a fight,” Cronic said. In reference to Murray’s return, Cronic said he thinks the role of satire will be to “call out the administration on how ridiculous this is.”
Simon noted that while news articles are more concerned with facts, satirical articles can chronicle the emotional response people might have to a situation.
“I think we’re more trying to get at what people are feeling about something than what that thing is. And if the joke lands, it’s because we expressed that well,” Simon said.
The Noodle, which published in print for the first time last year, now publishes print editions around twice a semester and has an active website, as well as Facebook and Instagram pages. The group currently has 13 active members and is accepting applications.
The Noodle’s adviser J Finley, a professor of American Studies and Gender, Sexuality and Feminist Studies, also recognized the importance of satire in times of controversy.
“Humor is always going to point to some of the deepest problems in our culture and our society, and satire cuts even deeper because it’s always meant to expose and shame,” she said. “Middlebury as an institution leans towards pushing some issues of power underneath the carpet, and satire doesn’t let you off the hook for that.”
As The Noodle’s faculty adviser, Finley won’t give a final ruling when it comes to publishing a potentially contentious article. But she will look at it and sometimes send it to other faculty before giving her advice to the editorial board.
Last April, The Noodle was embroiled in controversy when it broke the story of former chemistry Professor Jeff Byers referencing Nazi gas chambers on an exam. Both the incident and the satirical article were condemned by the Community Bias Response Team (CBRT) in a school-wide email, which stated: “While satire can be an effective form of social critique, the article’s light-handed references to and engagement with the Holocaust have caused additional harm.”
In response, The Noodle published an article satirizing the CBRT. “Community Bias Response Team Gets Mad at Noodle For Making Them Do Their Job,” read the headline.
This spring, The Noodle again finds itself positioned to take on heavy material. Quickly following the January 22 announcement, The Local Noodle released a story titled “Administration Places Bulk Order for Neck Braces in Preparation for Charles Murray’s Return.” Cronic estimates that this may now be The Noodle’s most viewed piece.
“They’re not perfect of course, but they’re courageous,” said Finley about the publication’s staff. “It takes a lot of courage in moments like [Charles Murray] to not only address the issues but to find a way to get people engaged and thinking about what is at stake. And hopefully people laugh in the meantime too.”
A previous version of this article incorrectly reported the number of posts to Middlebury Memes on Jan. 22 to be 29. The correct number is 39.