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(11/28/12 11:45pm)
A recent op-ed (“Divestment Creates Positive, Systemic Change”) argued that divestment is a valuable tool in the fight against global warming. While I wholeheartedly share in the author’s concern about climate change, I am not convinced that Middlebury College’s divestment from fossil fuel companies would constitute a step towards realizing this goal.
Divesting from a publicly traded company will not lower the company’s share price. Simple economic models tell us that if a stock is sold in sufficient volume to lower its price, non-ideologically motivated buyers will simply take advantage of the lowered price to buy stock until its price returns to the equilibrium point. While the pro-divestment op-ed noted this, the author suggested that if enough investors take action, the financial stability of the company could be jeopardized. Yet this misses the point entirely: it does not matter how many would-be divesters decide to sell — as long as there are non-ideological buyers somewhere, divestment will not impact the company’s valuation.
Far more importantly, the op-ed also fails to note the crucial fact that most of the oil industry is not controlled by publicly traded companies. According to the U.S. Department of Energy, national oil companies — not publicly traded international oil companies — control the majority of current production (55 percent as of 2010) and the vast majority of oil reserves (85 percent). Even ExxonMobil, the largest publicly traded oil company, accounts for only three percent of world petroleum production. Divestment would not have an economic effect on private or state-owned oil companies. Furthermore, because those companies are accountable to governments and not to shareholders, they are also far less likely to care about the moral or symbolic message that divestment could generate.
Even the much-lauded case of divestment from apartheid-era South Africa was not the unmitigated success that activists would have us believe. A London Business School paper titled “The Effect of Socially Activist Investment Policies on the Financial Markets: Evidence from the South African Boycott” found that divestment efforts had “little discernable effect” on either the financial valuation of corporations invested in South Africa or on South African financial markets themselves.
Perhaps one could argue that these criticisms of divestment are misguided, and that divestment is not merely an economic tool, but a social and a moral one. Even if this were the case, we owe it to ourselves to consider not only the benefits of divestment, but also the potential costs. Another study, “The Stock Market Impact of Social Pressure: The South African Divestment Case,” found that there was a negative impact on companies that divested: “Stock prices of firms announcing plans to stay in South Africa fared better relative to stock prices of firms announcing plans to leave [emphasis added].” Could divestment have a similarly negative financial impact on Middlebury?
Campus activists do not seem to consider this important point. In their rush to condemn oil companies, many activists do not appear to grasp the fact that their proposed divestment will have costs as well as benefits. While activist groups have done a remarkable job raising awareness, they have yet to publicly present a plan for how divestment could actually be implemented. Many crucial questions remain unanswered, and indeed, unasked. What are the potential costs of divestment? Who should bear these costs? How much are we willing to sacrifice? What do we want the purpose of our endowment to be? And above all else: is divestment the best way to accomplish our goals?
The best way to fight climate change is not through disruptive agitprop. The small number of students who reject community discussion and mutual respect in favor of radical direct action — who I recognize do not represent the entire divestment movement — should recognize that they are merely alienating potential supporters and weakening the claims of the divestment movement as a whole.
Dissimulation and disruption can only lead to distrust and polarization. Middlebury is better than that. The path to 350 parts per million runs not through the narrow halls of Old Chapel or the crowded seats of Dana Auditorium, but through the classrooms and laboratories of Bicentennial Hall.
So let’s use our skills as Middlebury students not merely to criticize the way things currently are, but to envision a better way forward. Rather than name-calling, protests and accusations, let’s see a concrete model of how the endowment should be managed. With this in mind, here’s an open call to the Socially Responsible Investment Club, Divest for Our Future, the so-called Dalai Lama Welcoming Committee and all students, faculty, staff, administrators, trustees and members of the Middlebury community who are concerned about the future of our endowment: let’s see a cost-benefit analysis of divestment by the end of this academic year.
Written be MAX KAGAN '14 of Freeport, ME
(11/28/12 11:20pm)
As I sat at the local café, sipping a glass of wine and staring up at the cathedral, I couldn’t help shake that despite the fact that I was doing all the same things as the French people around me, I still felt like I stood out as an American tourist. I have always considered myself partly European; I have a British passport and my friends mock me for my British sayings. Secretly (or not so secretly) I loved it. It made me a bit different back in Middlebury, but coming to France I needed no help feeling different and in fact feeling completely un-European.
While at first my American accent gave me away, that’s by far not the only reason why I found it hard to become a French student here. For a start, everyone here eats huge amounts for every meal of the day. Not many girls my age still play sports, and sometimes I feel like swimmer shoulders are a huge disability. With often two bags and my shoulders (which my host sister comments on at least once a day), it is hard to fit myself into the jam packed tram and I often dream of the days when my morning commute was from Hepburn to Proctor.
With professors, friends and family constantly telling me to become immersed in the culture, for the first month here I was really easily discouraged by the fact that I constantly felt just a little bit out of place. I have made great friends here, however not all of them are actually French, which only added to the fact that when out at a bar I feel like all eyes were on us (and not in a good way).
However, I have come to realize that it might just be me. I wasn’t expecting the culture shock when I got here. It is France after all. I’m not in a country completely unfamiliar like friends who are studying in Egypt or in Kenya. I think that because of this fact, I never even thought about the fact that France is not like the U.S. and that while I’m more at ease than people studying in non-European countries, it doesn’t mean that I can expect to be treated the exact same way I am in the U.S.
So slowly I have begun to look at my daily insecurities in a new light. Maybe I feel squished on the tram because there are 100 people in a space made for 60, and maybe people are looking at us because they are just interested in why there are foreign-sounding people in a local bar, rather than looking down on us. I have come to accept and appreciate the fact that I’m American. My French is better now so people don’t necessarily notice right away that I’m American. Instead, I tell them that I am, and after the obligatory quick political talk about the last election, we go on to talk not about our nationalities but about ourselves. Through this, I’ve accepted that yes, it was a bit of a culture shock at first, but that it is possible to immerse oneself and still be foreign at the same time.
In fact, I think that I am even more proud and thankful to be an American now that I have lived abroad. I know that everyone talks about how much time they have to reflect on who they are as a person and really discover themselves while they are abroad. As many who know me can tell you, I’m not really big into self-reflection or self-discovery, but without thinking, I have realized that I am much prouder and appreciate much more my American heritage. While I haven’t had one singular moment of complete self-awareness and discovery, I am thankful that I have had this experience to reflect and discover my real patriotic nature.
Written by ALEX EDEL ’14 from Bordeaux, France
(11/14/12 10:14pm)
«Tu viens ici chaque semaine, oui?» (Translation: You come here every week, right?)
People thrive in environments where they feel comfortable. It’s certainly not a groundbreaking revelation, but I like to think that we’re all at our best when we know our way around and genuinely feel at ease. So imagine my surprise when Paris came along, knocked me upside down, kicked me to the curb and left me feeling more out of place than ever before.
It’s not that I couldn’t figure my way around the city (the Paris metro is practically idiot-proof). It was that people, or, to be precise, the Parisians, knew that I wasn’t one of them the moment I walked in the door. My olive-tinged skin and eastern European blood garnered me a lot of “holas” and a handful of “hellos,” but never a “bonjour.” In my first weeks here, I was never given the chance to blend in. My one and only defining characteristic was that I didn’t belong.
People don’t talk about how isolating studying abroad can be, being in a new place with new people and all. And so for my first weeks in Paris, my goal was to kick that feeling of isolation and find somewhere that I could really belong. Little did I know that I would find exactly what I was looking for in the most unexpected of places.
The smallest greenmarket in Paris is held on Tuesdays and Fridays around the corner from the Middlebury office. Hidden behind the sprawling produce vendor is a dinky Lebanese food stand which shells hummus, stuffed grape leaves, tabouleh and falafels for three euros per portion (read: wallet-friendly, flavorful and healthy. Believe it or not, you can have too much butter and crème fraiche). I had purchased my lunch (moudardara being my dish of choice) from the dinky little vendor a mere three times before I heard those fateful words.
«Tu viens ici chaque semaine, oui?»
And at that very moment, it clicked. I became a regular. I had found a place where I could belong and where I could feel welcome, even if it only exists between 7 a.m. and 1 p.m., twice a week.
I’ve bought my lunch from Jean, the vendor, who I now jokingly refer to as my French boyfriend (he doesn’t know it yet), on every marché day since he first recognized me. We chat about the weather and my classes during our two-minute, bi-weekly transaction in which I ask for une portion du moudardara, he bags it (throwing in an extra pita for good measure) and I hand him three euros.
There are still plenty of places in this city where I am defined by my foreign-ness, but somehow, after the first time that Jean recognized me, it didn’t matter anymore. There was at least once place in this city of three million to whom I mattered and to who I could look forward to seeing. Buying lunch from Jean has become a routine, and with that ritual comes comfort, ease and a sense of belonging.
I don’t care if my “French boyfriend” doesn’t treat me to clichéd picnics in a garden with a bottle of wine and some cheese. He gives me extra pitas and isn’t bothered by the fact that I’m not une vraie parisienne. And in a relationship as open and undefined as ours, what more could I ask for?
Written by EMILY SINGER ’14 from Paris France
(11/14/12 4:59pm)
This winter term, Middlebury College will once again join a national organization that hosts Dance Marathons on college campuses across the country to raise money for Children’s Miracle Network Hospitals by hosting the second annual Middlebury College Dance Marathon!
Our 12-hour event directly supports families at the Vermont Children’s Miracle Network Hospital at Fletcher Allen in Burlington, Vt. The money we raise helps with hospital bills, transportation costs for getting to the hospital, the homecare needs of the kids and any other medical related expense these families incur while taking care of their kids.
Last year, our event was a big success. Not only did we raise almost $5,000, but we also had a large turn out from the student body and the families from the hospital came down from Burlington to dance with us. Throughout the night, you could tell what a great time the kids were having as they came up with new dance moves, played games with the Middlebury students and struggled to keep their eyes open past 11 p.m.
This year, our hospital champion, Victoria, is already excited to join us for our events and show us her dance skills!
Last year’s Dance Marathon featured performances by different on-campus groups such as Riddim. Additionally, different activities such as giant twister kept participants awake throughout the night. This year we are hoping to build on the success of last year by making everything bigger and better. Already, we are putting together an array of activities to keep the night full of fun and excitement.
Middlebury Dance Marathon 2.0’s theme is “Around the World in 12 Hours.” Currently, the committee is in talks with an array of student groups about incorporating all the resources Middlebury students have to offer into our event.
We believe that this is a great cause that can bring together college students and community members, so one of our goals this year is to get the Middlebury town community more involved. Although our event is focused on fundraising, it also provides a great opportunity for families to relax and enjoy themselves.
Dance Marathon 2.0 is taking place on Jan. 19, from 4 p.m. to 4 a.m. (the second Saturday in winter term). Registration is now open! Participants can sign up at go/dancemarathon either as an individual dancer or create a team for you and your friends. If you are interested in getting involved in the planning process or having your group participate please contact us at middleburydancemarathon@gmail.com. Come and join us! We would love to see your dance moves!
Written by MAUREEN WYSE '13 & BARBARA OFOSU-SOMUAH '13
(11/07/12 11:34pm)
Earlier this year this brilliant man released Break It Yourself, to which this Hands of Glory serves as a companion. Perhaps less experimental as 2010’s Useless Creatures, Hands features some of Bird’s least erratic vocals and neatest fiddling. He puts a delightful, atmospheric spin on songs by country and Americana artists such as The Carter Family and Townes Van Zandt. The nature of these inspirations brings a slightly more traditional format to each of Bird’s songs, which elevate the role of fiddle higher than previously heard.
“Three White Horses” introduces the album, and opens with an ethereal but simple plucked build-up reminiscent of Britain’s The xx. Bird’s signature whirring and trembling violin sounds step in among his musical texturing. On the other hand, another unique Bird element — whistling — takes a break in this album.
As usual, his lyrics are thoughtful but not convoluted, rife with images of nature that establish the autumnal tone of the album. Bird is known to express eccentric interpretations of the world. Even though I pay little attention to lyrics on first listen, Bird’s fascination with death, in the offbeat sense of Tim Burton’s Corpse Bride, projects from the very start of the album when, for instance, he emphasises, “You’ll need somebody when you come to die” and “The dead gonna wake and sing and roll their bones in the grass.” The latter line, from “When That Helicopter Comes,” completes the theme of the album that the natural elements started: the ghostly but wistful rustic environment drawn from the pastoral, apparently dusky location where his sound developed.
On the record he presents “Orpheo,” a modified version of “Orpheo Looks Back” from Break It Yourself. Ironically “Orpheo” relies on relatively bare acoustics and repetitive vocals, deviating from album’s overall folk/dance style that is foreshadowed by “Orpheo Looks Back.” I believe that Bird chose to re-work the song, not because it was such a hit, but simply for experimentation’s sake. Still, the new version sounds far less experimental even though the album derives from jamming in a barn on the Mississippi.
The last track is not so playful. It brings together several simple elements with the utmost sophistication; each instrument has its long moment to shine, and Bird keeps the elements essentially individualized, eventually revisiting the three-word vocal chant that repeats “three white horses” Like the Americana covers and the revisited songs from his previous album this last track demonstrates Bird’s seamless grasp of musical patterns, through his ability to create singular works from the same basic melody. He is a poet in that sense.
All in all, Bird produced a rich album, especially for a companion, that really highlights his rural, weathered environment for the listener. Like the majority of his work, it’s not catered towards the casual listener, particularly towards the end of the record.
Also, as the new columnist for For the Record I welcome anyone to contact me to discuss these albums, or just music in general!
(11/07/12 11:24pm)
In the past few days, I have read headline after headline detailing the damaging effects of Hurricane Sandy on the New York metropolitan area. Millions are still without power and dozens have been killed; countless homes and businesses have been destroyed. In scanning through the headlines, however, I can’t help but be concerned about the distorted priorities of coverage. The devastation to New York’s wealthy elite, in the form of closed high-end restaurants or flooded Chelsea art galleries, seems to be the focus of the media. The conversation about who has been disproportionately hurt by Sandy and about the roles that race and class play when hurricanes hit, is altogether absent from the discourse. Once again, the legacy of ignoring marginalized communities in times of national emergency has been affirmed, and what walks and talks like a natural disaster is more likely a man made one.
While wealthy folks from the village were stressing about how they were going to get uptown to charge their phones, as one New York Times article covers, thousands of people were lining up for emergency food and water downtown. The neighborhoods most severely affected by Sandy are, expectedly, the same ones most severely affected by systemic class and racial inequality. While its true that hurricanes don’t discriminate, people and societies certainly do, and this is no exception.
Take the Red Hook Houses in northern Brooklyn, for example, where over 6,500 residents have gone without heat, elevators, food and water for over a week after Sandy. Elderly and disabled residents are being forced to walk up 12 flights of stairs without elevator access, mothers are desperately washing their young children with bottled water and thousands are going to sleep each night without heat, in temperatures dropping into the 20’s. Red Hook has received virtually no aid from FEMA or the city, and its residents are literally surviving because of the generosity of neighbors’ donations. Lower Manhattan, on the other hand, has had almost all of its power restored. Trees in my parents’ upper-class towns in the suburbs are already being replanted. Random? You decide.
Red Hook, similar to many other forgotten communities, like the Jacob Riis Houses in Lower Manhattan, has a long history of marginalization. These are predominately communities of color whose residents live below or near the poverty line, who could not simply leave town when Sandy struck, as many New York City residents did. As one Reuters article states, “Those with a car could flee. Those with wealth could move into a hotel. Those with steady jobs could decline to come into work.” Without public evacuations, people must rely on individual resources, which, in New York City, are distributed far from equally. According to census data, last year the wealthiest 20 percent of Manhattan residents made close to $400,000 on average, while the poorest 20 percent made around $10,000. As Reuters points out, only a handful of developing nations, like Sierra Leone and Namibia, have income inequality rates that rival those of New York.
So, although the media is overlooking the disproportionate attention given to certain neighborhoods, really it should come as no surprise that the hardest hit are overwhelmingly home to the working poor. The housing projects are, in fact, just the tip of the iceberg as one New York journalist notes: “Waterfront communities like Far Rockaway and Coney Island are utterly devastated, parts of Queens have suffered horrific damage from fires, and […] we’ve heard nothing about what city officials are doing to assist residents of Staten Island who are virtually stranded.” Unfortunately, all of this is really nothing new.
It only takes one look out my window to be reminded of what happens when communities are forgotten by the nation in times of disaster. I am in the Lower Ninth Ward of New Orleans, and the street I am living on is lined with houses that have been boarded up and empty since Katrina hit, over seven years ago. If I were to show you a picture of the house across the street, with its roof collapsed in, you might think it was from 2006, right after the hurricane. On the other hand, if I were to take a drive uptown to the wealthy, predominately white neighborhoods back in 2006, they would be almost completely restored. But hurricanes don’t discriminate, right?
The class and racial dynamics of Hurricane Katrina’s effects are far too complex to go into detail here (although I encourage you to read about them elsewhere), but the obvious comparisons to Sandy must be made. The Lower Ninth Ward is a predominately black and working-class neighborhood, which was hit the hardest by Katrina and the hardest by national indifference. Just like the residents of Red Hook, the Lower Ninth was disproportionately neglected immediately after the storm, and has continued to be neglected seven years later. There are no services or jobs in the neighborhood, the unemployment rate is something like 75 percent, the incarceration rate is the highest in the country and thousands of residents are still unable to return home. To top it all off, the levees that famously broke are being rebuilt just down the street, and are allegedly weaker than the old ones.
Despite the media’s negligence of covering systemic racism and classism in relief efforts, they are realities that must be brought into the discourse if the full story is to be told. As climate change continues to make natural disasters the norm, it is pretty clear that Sandy is not going to be the last hurricane of the decade. However, if there is a positive (if not bleak) side to storms like Sandy and Katrina, it is that they expose pre-existing inequalities and push us to address them; to make our communities more resilient; and to work towards a more just and equitable future.
Written by JENNY MARKS '14.5 of Bedford, N.Y.
(11/07/12 11:22pm)
I came into Peter Beinart’s lecture last Thursday night feeling very nervous. Mr. Beinart, a modern Orthodox Jew and author of The Crisis of Zionism, has received ample criticism from both the left and right on his view of the Middle East peace process, and is a controversial figure in the Jewish community. As a pro-Israel Jew, I naively assumed the worst. Based on what I’d heard from my home community about his controversial views, I feared Mr. Beinart’s lecture would serve as this year’s Jewish attack on Israel. I worried that because Mr. Beinart is Jewish, the student body would use his critical opinion as a way to justify hostility toward Israel. I was wrong.
I had the opportunity to meet Mr. Beinart at dinner before his lecture. Towards the end of dinner, the guests began to discuss a two-state versus one-state solution, tensions within the Israeli government and other pressing issues that would shape the future of the conflict. At this point, nothing Mr. Beinart said had made me uncomfortable, but I waited until his lecture to make a final assessment.
As the lecture began, I mentally braced myself for the Israel attacks I saw coming. I was sure I would object to his claims, but Mr. Beinart’s first point immediately calmed me down. Mr. Beinart stated something I never anticipated: “Israel is a blessing for the Jewish people.” I couldn’t believe it. Had Middlebury seriously invited a speaker who praised Israel? Throughout my Middlebury career, with the exception of Ambassador Daniel Kurtzer who spoke on campus last spring, I’d barely seen or heard anything that framed Israel in a positive light. Just last year, I witnessed a Middlebury community member liken the Israeli government to the Nazis, and I watched a Palestinian movie portraying Israel’s goal to be the eradication of the Palestinian people. I even heard an Israeli speaker condemn Israel to an anti-Israel leaning audience, assuming his attacks would show an understanding of both sides. Unfortunately, too many Israel attacks coming from Jews simply justify the preconceived notions of audiences already leaning against Israel. Criticism of Israel from a Jewish perspective is a difficult and delicate issue: too little shows a bias, and perhaps a lack of objectivity, but too much poses the danger of crossing a very fine line into anti-Israel sentiment. While many Jews agree that Israel is not perfect (and what country is?), it is vital also to emphasize, as Peter Beinart reminded us, that Israel is a “blessing” for Jewish people everywhere.
After framing Israel in a positive light, Mr. Beinart did go on to critique Israeli settlements. He argued that settlements defy the morals of democracy and emphasized the risk of a dichotomy between a Jewish state and a democratic state. Israel’s existence as a democratic state originated in Theodore Herzl’s founding vision for Zionism, and Israel’s dedication to individual rights for all of its inhabitants is stated in its Declaration of Independence. Today, Israel is unique in the Middle East for its liberality regarding women’s and gay rights, protection of free speech, freedom of the press and other democratic values inherent in a modernized liberal state. Mr. Beinart believes that to be true to its core values, Israel must avoid implementing anti-democratic values that would be antithetical to Zionism and the Jewish spirit that runs through the nation.
By the end of Mr. Beinart’s talk, I was truly relieved. Regardless of his sometimes controversial views, in his talk at Middlebury, Mr. Beinart delivered a largely centrist perspective on the Middle East conflict. Mr. Beinart is clearly pro-Israel, yet he sees and understands the country’s flaws. As a Jew, knowing where to draw the line with Israel criticism is difficult, especially with such a diverse audience as the one that attended the talk last Thursday. But Mr. Beinart framed his argument perfectly. I am convinced that those who heard Mr. Beinart speak, regardless of their individual stances on the peace process, gained a valuable perspective: despite its imperfections, Israel is a positive influence in the world, and a true blessing.
Written by SARAH COHEN '15 of Newton, Mass.
(11/07/12 11:17pm)
The past three months of travel on the Watson Foundation’s ticket has been the most phenomenally humbling, addictive, complicated, joyful experience of my life. I pause my travels to write you now only to do my part to ensure that you appreciate what is at stake here, which is nothing less than truth.
From recently lived experience I can tell you that the hundreds of thousands of mine workers currently striking in South Africa, suffering not only the most heinous of working and living conditions but accusations of responsibility for their country’s looming economic collapse, need you to serve in defense of their truth. I can tell you that the millions of Malawians who currently stand in opposition to offshore oil development, but who possess no collective strength with which to oppose the multinational corporations contracted for the job, need you to serve in defense of their truth. I can tell you that after many months in an Africa experiencing continued colonialism in the form of corporate control, the people of this continent need you to serve in defense of their truth. Most of all, I can tell you that I have been on the road for three months now, and that I need to exist in the world knowing that with regard to the people who meet and care for me everyday, the institution within which I grew up is fighting in defense of truth.
I feel that the world is in increasing need of an honest conversation about the fact that left alone in an economic structure in which destroying the environment and exploiting people are profitable activities, corporations will not serve the greater good, and furthermore that it must be possible to sustain oneself without denying another sustenance. And we at Middlebury are in increasing need of an honest conversation about the influence we exert but don’t talk about; about the manner in which we contradict our own process by taking great care at home with people, but none around the world with money.
Middlebury claims to exist for a group of individuals who have been deemed worthy, due to some combination of economic, intellectual, athletic, spiritual, physical and artistic assets. It does a pretty solid job of making good on that claim, if you ask me. But simultaneously and potentially more significantly, we fail to acknowledge that our influence reaches far beyond the edges of our campus. Middlebury lives the world over, in communities we don’t visit, among peoples we won’t meet, on a scale we can’t conceptualize.
But because we have thus far refused to exercise control over the process by which we exert this influence — the investment of hundreds of million dollars from our endowment — we lie to ourselves, and we endorse the ever destructive illusion that all corporate entities are worthy of continued existence and support and that whatever destruction they do engage in is inevitable in the name of progress.
So what, then, is our responsibility, if we accept that we are a private institution with a very specific mission to serve a very specific group, but with global reach and influence that we exert not only little control over, but that is, perhaps, a destructive force in the world — a force that sustains lies when we are in increasing need of honesty?
Many will claim that we need not focus on our exogenous influence, but take great care endogenously. But those who make this argument do so ignoring the fact that corporations have it within their power to neutralize any influence that Middlebury could independently exert on the world, no matter how positive. No matter how much we as a community or as individuals may work to make the world a more acceptable place, the heinous behavior of certain corporations carries greater strength; greater force; greater will.
And thus, many — myself included — will argue that we need exert whatever control we can; that we need seize those levers for change that exist to ensure that our mission can be fulfilled, and fulfilled fully; that our legacy in the world will stand as a positive one, when all is said and done and that we are participating actively in the pursuit of progress instead of its obstruction.
Divestment from corporations deemed unacceptable is one of those levers. Divestment is an opportunity to confirm that yes, we exert global influence, but we will not do so carelessly; a chance to say no, we will not buy into the same falsehoods that give life to our contemporary economic and socio-political structure and the inequalities and injustices it sustains; we will not quietly endorse the idea that all corporations are unequivocally behaving with humanity’s long term interest at heart or that their massive failings are inevitable.
And so we will be specific. We will discern the constructive from the destructive; identify those entities that do not obstruct justice and equality but cultivate them instead; seek out corporations that are pursuing success independently of exploitation and destruction. Just as we take great care selecting those who we will serve as an educational institution, we will do the same as a financial institution.
It brings me great calm to hear that we are not punishing those who are promoting this conversation within our community, but encouraging them. We must always debate process and deliberate over tactics, but we simply cannot afford to miss the point. For too long these lies have remained lies; the truth will only stand if we serve in its defense.
Written by RHIYA TRIVEDI '12 of Oakville, Ontario
(11/07/12 11:15pm)
I met my two best friends at a three week summer program about four years ago. Twenty-one days is all it took to develop close connections with them. I’ve seen my best friends fewer than 21 days since that summer. One of them lives in Virginia, the other in Taiwan. We have to communicate across state boundary lines — and even oceans. We try hard to keep in touch often, using email, text, Facebook and Skype. These forms of communication are not perfect substitutes, but that’s what we do to keep our relationship going despite the distance. And it helps me to see their faces and hear their voices even if it’s through a computer. Sometimes it can trick me into believing that my friends are sitting just two feet away.
Having physical distance from people you love creates one type of hardship and pain. And there’s obviously more pain when you’re separated from those to whom you feel more attached. Anyone who has been physically separated from their significant other knows how difficult this can be. Romantic relationships thrive on frequent communication and, usually, physical proximity. That’s one of the reasons why most high school relationships don’t last through the first semester of college. It’s also difficult to be fully present in the place you’re living when you miss someone so much.
I’m in a long distance relationship at the moment. We’ve been through it before, so we’ve learned how often we like text message updates about our days, how often we want to hear each other’s voices on the phone and how many times a week we hope to see each other over Skype. With us, frequent communication and flexibility are qualities that keep our relationship going strong. We recognize the limits that come with being so far apart, and within these limits we learn what the other needs.
Missing people can take other forms as well. One such form involves missing those who left you, whether it be a parent, friend or a former significant other. It’s hard to compare one of these situations to another because they’re all accompanied by different yet intense feelings of hurt. In my own experience, the hardest of these that I’ve had to deal with is someone breaking up with me. Sadly, this is one of the most common feelings in the world. Almost everyone experiences it, although when it happens to us we often think that no one quite understands how we feel. That’s true to some extent — no one knows how attached you felt to your previous significant other, but most of your friends and family do know the pain and agony that accompanies missing someone. Reaching out to your friends and family can remind you not only that you will get through it just like they were able to, but also that you have so many people who still care about you. This may seem obvious, but it can be hard to remember during those times that you feel rejected and alone.
One of the most heart-wrenching experiences that involves missing someone is losing them completely. After someone you love passes away, it can be practically impossible to accept that you won’t ever see him or her again. When I was in high school, an old gymnastics friend passed away at the young age of 19. Initially, feelings of shock and denial swept over me. Extreme sadness came next, not just for me losing her, but for her losing out on so much of life. Some other gymnastics coaches and friends, in addition to my own family, talked about this loss with me. It made a huge difference in my acceptance of her passing and in controlling and limiting my sadness. It also didn’t matter that my family didn’t know my friend the way I did. They knew me, and that’s how they were able to comfort me.
The mother of a close friend mentioned something this past summer that really stuck with me. In reference to the pain she experienced from losing her mother around the age of 16, she said, “It’s not something that ever goes away. You just learn how to deal with it.” People deal with loss and missing people in different ways, but comfort can always be found in those that are currently around us.
If you don’t feel that you can find this comfort in friends and family close to you, then there are other outlets such as the Middlebury Counseling Center. You can contact Ximena E. Mejía, counseling director, or call 802-443-5141 to make an appointment. There is also now a Grief and Loss Support Group that meets on Wednesdays from 12:30 - 1:30 p.m.. Contact Donna Stark at 802-443-5141 if you’re interested in joining.
Written by DANIELLE BAKER '13 of Glastonbury, Conn.
(11/07/12 11:14pm)
Divestment is a tool that is best used as part of a broader movement towards a real-world goal. My goal is to keep the global temperature from rising two degrees Celsius above the pre-industrial temperature, an increment that was about the only thing global leaders could agree upon at the Copenhagen Summit. In the 1980s, activists had the goal of ending Apartheid in South Africa, and used divestment as a tool to do so.
Next it is important to consider how businesses are related to the given goal. Will divestment be an appropriate tool towards that goal? In the 1980’s, U.S. companies were doing business in South Africa, supporting and profiting from the Apartheid regime. In facing climate change, fossil fuel companies have a vested interest not only in extracting and selling five times the amount of carbon as will raise the global temperature two degrees, but also in funding climate-change-denying science and lobbying against climate change legislation.
When investors do remove their money from the culpable companies, or divest, it must be a widespread action. Admittedly, one shareholder’s divestment will not significantly impact the company — the shares will simply be sold to another investor. But if a large cohort of investors across the country, or even across the globe, mobilizes to divest, than the value of the company’s shares could drop and the company could begin to lose its financial stability. Perhaps more important are the social and political impacts of broad scale divestment. When divestment is used in concert with boycotts, lobbying, political pressure, civil disobedience and widespread media coverage, the companies can be stigmatized so that they change their business practices, they lose their political power or the public consumes less of their product.
In the case of South Africa, the divestment movement included more than 55 colleges and universities, 26 U.S. states, 22 counties, 90 cities and many religious organizations and pension funds. The divestment movement caused 200 U.S. companies that had been supporting the Apartheid regime to cut their ties with South Africa. But change in those businesses was not the ultimate goal — rather it was an important tool used in conjunction with a broader social movement towards ending Apartheid. Governments issued sanctions against the regime, human rights organizations lobbied and activists in South Africa and around the world rallied against the regime. When Apartheid officially ended in 1994 with the election of Nelson Mandela, he specifically cited divestment and the withdrawal of U.S. companies as key factors in the end of Apartheid.
The movement against climate change is on a similar track. Students at more than 40 campuses are already pressuring their administrations to divest from fossil fuel industries. Climate change is the target of countless environmental and human rights groups, international agreements and coalitions of reputable scientists. Businesses in renewable energy, efficient technology and green buildings work to reduce fossil fuel consumption. Thousands of activists through organizations like 350.org mobilize to raise awareness of the urgency of climate change. In other words, there is a broad and multidimensional social movement against climate change. But through lobbying and campaign contributions, fossil fuel companies are effectively preventing more rapid and systemic change. Additionally, it is not just the industry’s spending practices that are the problem. Rather it is their inherent business model. The fossil fuel industry is so big and so profitable that even a widespread divestment movement will probably not keep it from selling 80 per cent of the reserves it has discovered. But divestment could easily be the catalyzing force in separating our politicians from fossil fuel interests, in demanding climate change policy, in ending fossil fuel subsidies and in exciting the public to a new degree of urgency in reducing its carbon consumption. Divestment from fossil fuels, coupled with social pressure against the industry, will work within the broader social movement to keep climate change from passing two degrees.
Written by JEANNIE BARTLETT '15 of Leyden, Mass., Co-President of the Socially Responsible Investment Club (SRI)
(11/07/12 11:07pm)
I recently watched a film (pronounced “filum” in Ireland. I think the technical term for such an elaboration between two consonants is called a schwa, and if that doesn’t do something for you … ) titled The Guard; it comes with my highest recommendation and also a sufficient and heartening dose of Irish-ness for the culturally explorative laymen, if you’re interested. An impression remained in my mind as the credits curtailed the Shakespearean-style ending — virtually every character is put rather unceremoniously to death — the police force in Ireland (called the Garda) is remarkably easy-going. Irish police don’t even carry guns — only comically large nightsticks.
To start, let me draw some attention to the fact that the Irish border patrol has fewer things to worry about then, say, America’s. They remind me of a certain dated and far-fetched image: a kind of Leave it to Beaver relationship between stick swinging beat cops and gracious tax-paying American passers-by, the one sending nods of quaint salutation to the other (note: this image is probably the product of too many viewings of It’s a Wonderful Life). But America is too big and her history is too deeply pocked with inter-race and inter-class struggle to foster anything like that. Our justice system is just too damn mean for that. We value our safety and our freedom too much for that. Yes, America values freedom so much so that she imprisons more people per capita than any other country in the world. America imprisons more people than 26 of the largest European nations combined.
There are countless factors responsible for this last fact: an increasingly privatized prison-industrial complex that makes a business out of incarceration and creates an incentive to imprison, an irresponsibly strict (and racially motivated) stance on drug use, rampant socio-economic inequality and a race-relations rap sheet that, via comparison, makes most other countries look like the rainbow-framed multiracial handholding pictures we drew in elementary school art class. As far as these issues are concerned, I will be rather brief in expressing my opinion: privatization of something with as much moral consequence as the imprisonment of our citizens is just dumb — regardless of any marginal reduction in costs. For a country that values freedom so much, the fact that personal marijuana use is illegal is a bigger slap to the face than the fact that an 18-year-old can purchase a Remington shotgun three years before he can buy a Jager-bomb. And, if we want to reduce crime, why don’t we concern ourselves more with the well being of our more impoverished citizens?Systemic and prolonged generational poverty engenders the kind of culture where crime becomes expected, even acceptable. As Dostoyevsky put it, “Feed them first and then demand virtue of them.”
My main concern is that we’re so busy “holding people accountable” that we’ve neglected to update our conception of justice to match the great civilization we fancy ourselves a part of. We might start by realizing that some combination of factors, natural and environmental, leads an individual to commit crimes. We might realize that blaming and chastising these people is both philosophically unsound and largely ineffective. I’m not suggesting we pat violent criminals on the back and give them a Snickers bar for the road, but there is no real sense in which they ought to be punished — unless we resolve ourselves to be a society of sadists with a warped and antiquated sense of justice. Why do we let barbaric notions of vengeance guide our judicial system? Our primary goal should be the betterment of our society and the compassionate treatment of our citizens. Obviously someone should be held accountable for a criminal action: they ought to be removed from society to avoid causing others harm. But once that is achieved, our primary and solitary concern should be their rehabilitation, not their abuse. I’m not recommending a specific system, but merely a change in attitude. To summarize: certain forms of punishment are beneath us and are morally wrong.
The obvious problem with such a concept is that jail might become attractive — people might commit crimes just to have a roof over their heads and hot meals to eat. I might argue that moral conviction and the natural human desire for freedom are enough to make crime and prisons unattractive. The worse case scenario is that someone abusing the prison system will end up in a place where he or she is educated, counseled, rehabilitated and taught the benefits of involvement in mainstream society. Either way, crime in general will decrease if we started paying more attention to reforming inmates instead of frightening them, if we started recognizing that crime is an environmental problem more than it is a personal one. And, if prison guards and police officers truly understood themselves as community servants rather then as instruments of violence and intimidation, then maybe we might restore some mutual respect between the law and the people it seeks to protect.
Mohan Fitzgerald '14
(11/07/12 10:13pm)
Just two days ago, hundreds of millions of Americans exercised their right to vote — they cared enough about the issues at stake to take the time to make their voices heard.
As SGA president this year, I’ve dealt with campus issues that run the gamut — including student programming, funding, college governance, communications, as well as some of the more mundane elements of student life. Across these diverse issue areas, I’ve found that one theme predominates: the need for student engagement with Middlebury as an institution.
Our campus is full of potential leaders and creative thinkers. My peers and friends impress me every day with their involvement on campus, and this is perhaps one of my favorite aspects of being a student here. Nonetheless, despite the quantity and quality of potential leaders, our campus suffers from a lack of student engagement with institutional policy. In fairness, students are busy — we have challenging academics, usually a few extracurricular activities or a sport schedule to navigate and social obligations as well. This is part of the lifestyle we choose when we choose Middlebury, and most of us wouldn’t have it any other way.
But while I know most of us are proud to spend four years here, few of us are fully satisfied with Middlebury institutionally — whether it is social life, endowment policy, academic policy or anything in between, many students feel there are areas where Middlebury could improve.
To those students, I say: on a campus as small and as codependent as ours, engagement really matters. Individuals can have a lasting impact on College policy or student life. Our carbon neutrality initiative, Alcohol and Social Life Task Force, Middview, the new Pass-Fail option and others are the products of student engagement with the institution.
The administration and the Board of Trustees are not the enemy of student welfare — not only do they want student input, they often beg for it. Being busy is legitimate, but we all abdicate the right to complain when we don’t attempt to make our voices heard.
I encourage students to engage more actively with institutional policy by attending open meetings, providing feedback when requested and making student viewpoints clear. We all have opinions on the issues that Old Chapel deals with. Sometimes, there will be student consensus around an issue; other times, a split will exist. But no one with power to change policy can act on our views if they don’t know they exist.
Most of us took time out of our days to be one voice in a chorus of millions seeking to influence the direction of our country. In our small community, our voices count for much more. We should all be more active in engaging with Middlebury.
(11/07/12 10:08pm)
The mackerel pike is a long skinny fish that is quite common to Japanese cuisine. Arriving in Tokyo in early fall, I was presented with the opportunity to eat this delicacy, often burned black, at what seemed to be every other meal. Breakfast, lunch or dinner — it made no difference — Sanma, as it’s called here, was on the menu.
The fish itself is tasty, but it is the process of eating it that becomes complicated when you realize it is almost always served with the bones intact. I will admit, when no one was looking, I occasionally resorted to ripping out the spine and eating it with my hands. In many ways, this little fish represents a perfect metaphor for the most important realization that I’ve had whilst abroad.
I’ll admit that before coming to Japan I had this image of study abroad being all kittens and rainbows. The reality of my situation hit me like a bag of bricks. Instead of the fun, kooky adventures I had planned, I felt trapped in my own personal hell, a suburb of a suburb of Tokyo called West Kokubunji, in a dorm where my entire room is often shaken by the trains located under me. To paraphrase Chris Farley, “I was livin in a dorm down by the train tracks.”
Compounding the problems of my home life was my 45-minute commute to school and three hour blocks of class Monday through Friday. I’ll admit that I have been spoiled since freshman year by the high quality of Middlebury’s language teaching, and was thus disappointed by the language instruction here. At this point my frustration was reaching critical mass, but I was managing to contain it. It was my dealings with Japanese bureaucracy that proved to be the tipping point.
As anyone who has studied abroad can tell you, getting the requisite papers, approvals, etc. can be time consuming and frustrating. But in Japan, bureaucracy isn’t just for entry: it’s a way of life. For example, in order to put money on your account to print in the library, you must talk to five people and have a document stamped no less than eight times by the head librarian merely in order to print. I had already been in Japan for nearly 2/3 of my semester, yet had spent more time dealing with bureaucracy, commuting to and from school and hating my classes than I had spent exploring Tokyo. I realized if I did not change my experience, I would end up regretting my time here.
In search of adventure and food, one night my friends and I boarded a train for Tokyo station. Walking through the city at dusk, seeing the neon lights and speeding trains and smelling the waft of grilled chicken skewers was the antidote I had desperately needed.
It was sitting in a small restaurant located in an underpass beneath some train tracks, devouring skewers of meat with friends, that I came to a realization: if I were going to truly enjoy being in Tokyo, I was going to have to learn to eat the meat and avoid the bones — or end up chewing on them.
Studying abroad is undoubtedly challenging, but if you only notice the hardships, you won’t ever have the opportunity to turn them into triumphant experiences.
For me, it was easier to grab the fish with my hands, rip out the spine and eat it like a rack of barbecue ribs. But this method is haphazard, often leaving bone fragments waiting like land mines in the meat. The bones are tiny, annoying to bite into — but are overall entirely harmless. By dwelling on the bones, I had forgotten to savor the meat.
Everyone will at some point bite into a bone or two while studying abroad. It is up to them as to whether it is the bones or the meat that defines their experience.
Written by PAUL GERARD ’14 from Tokyo, Japan
(10/31/12 9:11pm)
A few weeks ago, I sat in front of my laptop and filled out the application form for the mini-MAlt trip in a somewhat careless fashion. I never even looked over my responses to any of the questions, which is something that I rarely do. What this reveals about my mindset at that time is that I wasn’t at all desperate to go.
Well, I really should have known better.
Over the recent fall break weekend, I stayed at the Merck Farmland and Forest Center in Rupert, Vt. with a group of about a dozen people. At first, sure, I was excited about going on a trip and taking a break from the rather hectic lifestyle at Middlebury, but, to be plain, I wasn’t as thrilled as I could have been.
On the afternoon of our arrival, we had a tour of the animal farm. We met the various members of the farm — the lamb, the two work-horses, a few piglets and a lot of chickens. I learned about the importance of foresight in organic farming from a worker on the farm who told us that they fenced their sheep off at the boundary of the forest. If they didn’t, the sheep would graze on the grass and deposit their natural “fertilizer” in the forests where they spend time resting and hiding away from the sunshine. In that way, the pastures wouldn’t receive this natural fertilization from the sheep, and the farm would have to spend extra money to fertilize the land. This is just one example that demonstrated the importance of modern farm ingenuity.
The following day, we got up bright and early to assist the trail maintenance manager. He introduced us to the various kinds of tools, and reminded us that he valued quality over total distance covered. With that in mind, we set off to clear a section (about two miles) of the 38 mile trail in the area. The section that we worked on that morning and afternoon had not been maintained for more than three years, so we all had a lot of work to do.
My favorite tool was the multi-purpose pull-saw, which was used to saw through relatively thick tree trunks and snap off thin branches that were sticking out into the trail. Since it was my first time clearing a trail for hikers, I felt very accomplished at the end of the day. It was great to know that my actions would benefit someone who enjoys nature as much as I do.
After a whole day of work and a great group photo, we set off on a long hike back to our cabin. We made pasta for the night, and we even cooked all the carrots that I picked from Middlebury’s Organic Farm. After some s’mores, a cup of hot chocolate and a cup of lemonade, I sat beside the fire with some newly-made friends and listened to their weird dreams and ghost stories.
Isn’t telling ghost stories the most appropriate thing to do when one is sitting around a fire and can see nothing else other than what is illuminated by the fire?
As I sat beside the bonfire, I reflected on how much I cherished this “personal time” with nature. After all, shouldn’t time off from school be a break from schoolwork? From the usual lifestyle that underlies our daily lives?
As I sat around the fire with the rest of my group making s’mores, I admired the starry night sky and appreciated the sound of the running stream 10 meters away. I closed my eyes, and took in all the flavors in nature: the slightly choking smell of smoke, the sweetness of the damp air and the comforting taste of the surrounding woods and the fallen leaves on the ground. At that moment, I knew what I had been craving since the last time I enjoyed a relaxing time in what some would call the “wilderness.”
I slept soundly that night beside the fireplace. The next morning, we left the cabin after enjoying some pancakes cooked by our leader from Bhutan. On the farm, we worked for three hours tidying up the electric wires that were not in use anymore.
Soon enough, I realized how great an impact a volunteer can have on the operation of a farm. It was clear to me that the farm was understaffed, and they seemed grateful to receive external help.
While helping out on the farm is important, a positive attitude about the environment and the desire to transmit this passion to future generations is even more important. I see this as a mutually beneficial process — I learn about the techniques that are useful on a farm, and the farm gets extra help from outside which reduces their workload.
Unlike many city-dwellers, I have always had a strong yearning to be in touch with nature. During those two days on the mini-MAlt trip, I didn’t feel uncomfortable at any moment, even though there were no taps around from which drinkable water could flow, or clean toilet seats that I could sit on.
Today, technology is said to be able to breach the distance between people. On many levels, that is true. What many people don’t realize, however, is that nature is the most peaceful and joyous environment.
When I fail to venture out of my comfortable and convenient modern lifestyle, I feel a certain unfulfillment that I associate with lack of control over my modern, materialistic lifestyle.
As my trail maintenance guide told me, recognizing that everything a person needs to survive can fit in a backpack is the best way to understand that a materialistic life is limited.
When was the last time that you packed everything you need in life into your backpack?
Written by ADRIAN LEONG ’16
(10/31/12 7:10pm)
Most people in the world who look at Middlebury College see a bastion of decency, fairness and social justice. Most people see Middlebury’s continued commitment to carbon neutrality amidst difficult economic conditions as evidence of an exceptional dedication to the future of our planet. Most people see the College’s need-blind admissions policy as both a strong statement in favor of distributive justice and as an effective effort to provide opportunities to students who otherwise would not have them.
As they are so keen on making clear to us, the “Middlebury Radicals” are not most people. Rather than being proud of Middlebury’s commitment to making the world a better place, the Radicals want us to be ashamed of our school. Their anger at Middlebury was evident last week in the falsified press release they emailed. It was evident when they heckled students looking to donate blood several weeks ago in the McCullough Student Center. The Radicals see the core of the College as evil because the institution exists in and perpetuates a political system they wish to do away with: namely Jeffersonian Republicanism. Thus, virtually anything Middlebury does is subject to the Radicals’ intolerant and egomaniacal criticism.
The protest of the American Red Cross, which purported to be about the Food and Drug Administration’s (FDA) discriminatory policies that prohibit men who have had sex with men (MSM) from donating blood, tells us all we need to know about this radical politics. Let’s ignore the FDA’s argument that because gay men are allegedly 2,000 times more likely to be infected with AIDS than other first-time blood donors, they should be “deferred” (a nice word for prohibited) from donating. Let’s just focus on what the Radicals decided was the appropriate response to a controversial and, due to advances in blood testing, outdated policy. The American Red Cross and its donors do more good in one year than every student group at Middlebury combined has in 213 years. Protesting the Red Cross requires thorough justification and consideration, neither of which is requisite in the Radicals’ platonic conception of “activism.”
It might be possible to justify these protests if a) the participants had made an effort to meet with President of the College Ronald D. Liebowitz or Dean of the College Shirley Collado before the Red Cross came to campus and b) if the Red Cross had not announced its opposition to the FDA’s MSM policy back in 2006. But the students chose to forgo any communication with the Offices of the President and the Dean of the College (both of which sympathize with the cause) until the day of their protests, when they left buckets of fake blood in Old Chapel.
Such childish “activism” was taken to new extremes with the falsified press release emailed to the Middlebury community and various media outlets on Oct. 12. That action caused more damage than the blood drive protest. The Office of the President spent several days responding to calls from alums, board members, journalists and parents. A local Vermont news station broadcasted the story and later had to issue a retraction in embarrassment. The Radicals claimed the email was satirical. While they were laughing, many members of the Middlebury and broader Vermont community had their weekends — and more — ruined.
One might pass this sort of behavior off as silly or marginal and thus not worthy of our attention. That would be a mistake. Both the protest of the Red Cross and the falsified press release were carefully planned. The students involved are not shallow, but rather intelligent and deliberate. As such, we must assume that they were fully aware of the potential consequences of their actions. Considering that, we should be seriously concerned. Far from constructively effecting positive change, these students’ actions have hurt members of this community. They greatly upset members of the administration, who seek the same trustful relationships many of us strive to establish on campus, but also students who thought, rightly, that by donating blood they were doing good.
The Radicals’ actions have risked the meaningful progress made by the Socially Responsible Investment (SRI) club. SRI is enacting positive change by working with the Office of the President. That progress has taken time — a dimension radicals, virtually by definition, have no patience for — in part because the student members of SRI have had to prove themselves honorable and serious. By eschewing integrity and sincerity, the falsified press release risked greatly jeopardizing the relationships SRI has built.
There are serious problems in the world and at Middlebury. I, along with many other students on this campus, care deeply about solving them. It is appealing to look at the Radicals and sympathize with their politics. Many well-meaning students may feel compelled to join the cause, which is why the group’s destructive activism must not be dismissed. Because the truth about these radicals is that their priority is neither social justice nor human rights. Their priority is themselves. That unpleasant truth is evidenced by their self-aggrandizement and ruthless demonization of others. The Radicals justify their behavior by falsely suggesting that they understand something the rest of us do not. The truth these radicals — whose ideas, far from being newfound, have been debated since the French Revolution — refuse to acknowledge is that just because most students and faculty do not share their views is not evidence that we lack critical thinking or a commitment to ameliorating suffering around the world.
It is thus ironic that the Radicals should choose go/compassion as the on-campus web shortcut for their blog. Indeed, by forgoing any collaboration with the administration, by disregarding the hurt caused by their destructive conduct and by failing to recognize the potential validity of others’ opinions, the Middlebury Radicals demonstrate an outright bewilderment concerning the true nature of compassion.
Written by HARRY ZIEVE-COHEN '15 of Brooklyn, N.Y.
(10/31/12 7:08pm)
With so much focus on the economy in this election cycle, much of the electorate has been paying little attention to foreign policy. However, with our College’s reputation as an internationally diverse institution, its strong international studies, foreign language programs and global activism on the part of students, foreign policy no doubt affects our campus and the ballot decisions of everyone here.
In their third and final presidential debate last Monday, President of the U.S. Barack Obama and Governor Mitt Romney went head-to-head on issues of foreign policy. What came out of that debate, perhaps the most civil of the series, was another reminder of the extraordinary job Obama has done as commander-in-chief and the unpreparedness of Romney to deal with global challenges.
For all those critics of Obama’s first term record, or lack thereof, according to Republicans, let’s look at what he’s done as leader of the free world.
The president rid the world of its most notorious terrorist, Osama bin Laden, who had been hiding under the eyes of Pakistani authorities for years. In addition to bin Laden, he took out many members of al-Qaeda’s top leadership, including the second and third-in-commands and the organization’s leader in Iraq.
The President has successfully withdrawn all combat troops from Iraq as of December 2011, finally ending the “dumb war” that squandered almost a trillion dollars out of American coffers and more than 4,000 American lives. This was one of Obama’s priorities coming into office and he kept his word.
The president also presented a nuanced strategy to deal with what was a deteriorating situation in Afghanistan. He understood the need for stability, temporarily adding 30,000 troops, yet he held firm to the belief that the U.S. military cannot be muddled in the affairs of the nation forever.
When people of the Arab world rose up against their oppressive rulers, the President took a thoughtful case-by-case approach to support democratic aspirations of the people, whilst keeping American forces out of harm’s way. In Libya, U.S. and North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO) allies aided the rebels in their fight against Gaddafi, establishing no-fly zones and efficiently disposing the tyrant without losing a single American life.
Regarding Iran, the President enacted tough sanctions that are driving the Iranian economy into the ditch. On Russia, the president signed an extension of the START treaty that aims to decrease the nuclear arsenals of both countries. Finally, the president strengthened the military by repealing the outdated and discriminatory “Don’t Ask Don’t Tell” policy in 2010.
In last Monday’s debate on foreign policy, Romney seemed to agree, on more than one issue, with Obama. On Syria, on Iran, on terrorism. It says a lot about your actions when your opponent basically spends most of the debate saying, “Me too!”
Yet, Romney seemed to think that adopting a loud and obnoxious chest-thumping, America-is-number-one approach to foreign policy would help keep America safer. He wants to increase defense spending even as he refuses to ask the extremely wealthy to contribute their fair share. On his foreign tour back in July, Romney insulted hosts of the London Olympic Games in Britain and offended many by saying that Jewish culture accounts for the difference between Israeli and Palestinian economic development.
He is a candidate that has not thought the issues through, a total opposite from the steady hand with which Obama has led the United States of America on the world stage for the last four years.
Romney likes to say that the President went on an apology tour during his first term. In fact, Obama was cleaning up eight years of foreign policy malarkey left by Romney’s own party. Just as with economic policy, this country cannot afford to go back to policies that have been tried and failed before. We need to move FORWARD as a nation. We need a true commander-in-chief in Obama.
Written by the MIDDLEBURY COLLEGE DEMOCRATS
(10/31/12 6:56pm)
We are happy to announce the return of the Cameron Cup at Middlebury! In years past, the Cameron Cup was awarded at the end of each academic year to the Commons which had won the most number of points through a series of inter-commons challenges and competitions. This year, we have formed the Cameron Cup Commission (CCC) to administer the allocation of commons points.
The CCC has one student representative from each commons and is being chaired by two Commons Residential Advisors. Though the CCC will play a role in organizing some larger inter-commons competitions, its main role will be the weekly allocation of commons points for all commons programming — no matter how big or small, even if the event is meant for students just in one commons. Commons points will be awarded on the basis of three categories: participation, organization and winning. Bonus points will be awarded for the number of commons involved in organizing the event. Thus the objective is to encourage more commons programming of all sorts and also programming that promotes inter-commons interaction.
Thus, the scope of the Cameron Cup has been extended this year to be bigger than ever before. Of course, the winning commons, at the end of the year, will receive the physical Cameron Cup, bucket loads of glory and a big prize.
If you have been involved in organizing a commons-related event, all you have to do is fill in the POW form (go/pow) and your request for commons points will be reviewed every Tuesday. The form only takes a little more than a minute to fill in. A tally of commons points will be published every two weeks in the Campus and will also be available at go/points.
Visit go/ccc for more information and email cameroncc@middleubury.edu if you have any questions.
Written by NIAL RELE '12, Commons Residential Advisor of Brainerd Commons
(10/31/12 6:54pm)
Treasurer Candidate Wendy Wilton is reasonable, reliable and respectful. She has worked with the State Auditor’s Office over the past few years to improve municipal transparency and financial management and to foster prevention of embezzlement legislation. Wilton is the VT Municipal Treasurer of the Year, a straight shooter — the real deal. Please support her like I do, for being a real Vermonter trying to improve the state. As a Republican, she is an underdog and will give some balance to the state. Please join me in supporting her. Thank you.
Written by TOM SALMON of Rockingham, Vt.
(10/31/12 4:41pm)
For as long as I can remember I have always loved taking public transportation. As a child I loved swiping my plastic fare card during family trips to the Big Apple. When in Washington, D.C., I worked to memorize the rainbow tangle of the metro system, as it granted me access to an exciting world of fast moving trains, map deciphering and endless people-watching.
It was only natural then that I made it a goal at the beginning of the semester to figure out the bus system in Amman, and to use public transit instead of relying on taxis to get everywhere.
But to be perfectly honest, I really had no idea what I was getting myself into. I soon discovered that there really is no bus “system.”
It’s not like Washington, D.C. or Atlanta or Austin or even my hometown of Fort Wayne where websites offer colorful guides and passenger information on local courses. There’s no centralized map of the city’s routes, nor is there a record of what is and isn’t reachable by bus.
Buses also aren’t labeled with the name of the routes. Instead, drivers pull up alongside the curb and the fare collector jumps off, shouting the name of the direction and corralling passengers aboard before the bus lurches onward toward its next stop.
After a few weeks of avoiding public transit entirely, I forced myself out of my comfort zone. One day on the way home from school, I decided that I would take the bus.
As I waited anxiously outside the University of Jordan gates, I must have asked a dozen drivers how to get to my neighborhood; each one told me that no buses passed by Um Utheina. “How convenient,” I thought.
Finally, one driver ushered me onto his bus and assured me that by getting off at the second stop I’d be within walking distance of my house.
Stop after stop passed, and I finally hopped off at the traffic circle only to realize that I was farther away from my house than I was when I had begun.
Much to my chagrin, I took a taxi.
Though, remembering the goal that I had set for myself at the beginning of the semester, I refused to accept defeat. I settled on a new strategy: maybe it would be easier if I tried taking the bus to the University in the morning. Waking up an hour earlier one Sunday, I waited patiently at the circle where my host father assured me a big yellow bus would stop on its way to UJ.
I waited for 45 minutes without any luck.
Every morning of that next week I spent hours waiting at various spots along the route to the University hoping to get lucky, but I never actually found a bus stop. I would arrive at school sweating, with my hair in a tangled mess and my feet aching from waiting for so long.
“What the heck?” I wondered. “Did I just not understand correctly? How could something so simple back home be so confusing here?”
Getting a grip on transportation here has been a pretty comical and bizarre experience, especially because every time I inquire about routes, I get an answer that contradicts the previous one. Even though I still haven’t achieved my goal of mastering the system, the experience has helped me discover that many of my assumptions — both about public transportation and other aspects of daily life — must be completely discarded in Jordan.
With this realization in mind, I have decided to adopt a new attitude and a new approach — I now plan to spend a day riding the buses, wherever they go. I’ll chat with locals, map the routes and explore the city. By doing so, I hope to finally learn how to fully utilize public transportation in Amman, and just as importantly, to grow in my understanding of the people — and the city — in the process.
Written by Rachel Sider ’13 from Amman, Jordan
(10/24/12 11:49pm)
It is because I believe in Middlebury College’s ability to educate passionate and critical thinkers that I am extremely disconcerted by the fraudulent press release sent out by a group of students on Friday, Oct 12. First and foremost, it worries me that Middlebury students who are champions of social justice think that a lie is an appropriate conversation starter for a deeply complex issue. Second, there are many more facets to this situation than the email and subsequent statement seem to acknowledge. On principle, I am in agreement with those who see a troubling contradiction between inviting the Dalai Lama to speak at Middlebury and allegedly investing our endowment money in companies that promote morally questionable enterprises. However, though the intentions of the letter were honorable in that it raised awareness of an important concern for our community, it served mostly to oversimplify an issue that cannot afford to be pared down to a simple “us and them” scenario.
First, as the letter-writers concede, we are not entirely sure where the endowment is invested and in what capacity. At the endowment panel last spring, sponsored by the SRI club, the audience was informed that Investure has legal agreements with the companies with which they invest that obligates them to not divulge their business agreement without the express consent of said companies. I think that information should be available, so I agree with the press release senders in that there should be more endowment transparency. But the implication in sending the press release is that those who sent it know that the endowment is invested in companies that are involved in fossil fuels and weapons manufacturing — and that we are invested in a large capacity. Making such a statement without concrete factual evidence (even if we have very, very good reason to believe this is true) is counter-intuitive: it makes us accusers rather than allies in a battle that the entire community should be fighting together. This is not a war between students and the administration — we all want to see our endowment invested in morally and environmentally sustainable enterprises. If these requests for transparency are made in a diplomatic and practical manner, I for one am positive the administration will react favorably.
However, though I agree with having more endowment transparency, this is not the only issue the letter brought up. In fact, I think that particular issue is one that no one can dispute with great success: the lack of transparency in our endowment should (and, I wager, will) be resolved quickly if pursued in a manner agreeable to the wider community. I think the more interesting question here is what it means to “invest in war,” and whether we can afford the quality of the education we enjoy at Middlebury if we were not to do so.
But it is a question raised prematurely. There are several issues here we need to engage as a community, but we can’t engage them without the proper information. First, and most importantly, where do we “draw the line,” so to speak? This line is different from person to person. One student may be comfortable investing in, say McDonald’s, and another may not. In order to even begin looking at how we would like to alter our investments — assuming that those investments will become transparent in the future — we would have to come to an agreement as a community about which investments we would consider ethical. Second, if we agree that we do not want to, as the letter writers put it, “invest in war,” what precisely is it that we consider unconscionable? Investing in weapons manufacturers directly? Investing in steel manufacturers whose product, in part, is used for weapons? Investing in companies that use fossil fuels for their production? What makes “war” specifically heinous? What about alcohol? Tobacco? The letter-writers imply that these questions precede the transparency of the endowment — they don’t. We have to know what we are invested in before we start asking these questions. Otherwise, we’re grasping at straws.
The Dalai Lama expressed the hope that the 21st century would be a century of peace. Peace will not be achieved by fraudulent documents, accusatory remarks and hasty assumptions. Peace will be achieved by knowing what we must do, as well as by knowing how far we still have to go. This is a nuanced issue, and as a community we need to treat it with the delicacy and maturity it merits.
Written by RACHEL DICKER ’14 of Great Neck, N.Y.