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(11/09/17 12:30am)
The administration has criticized this paper’s coverage in public and private, and to our editors. They have implied that this paper contributes to negative perceptions of our school. They have shown discomfort and grown defensive when community members have shared their stories. The administration has realized we are a broken community.
They have also said it is the role of this paper to help build a new community by running positive stories. We disagree. There are no positive or negative stories, only truth.
The Campus ought to be a means of dissemination. We strive to report on the Middlebury student experience as it is, whatever it may be and in its truest form. Authenticity needs to be compulsory of the free press, coupled with thorough investigation. We aspire to these principles in order to best serve the student body.
Undoubtedly, many people in our community feel that we have not met these aspirations, some feel we have, and others probably think we have the wrong objectives entirely. We unequivocally believe that the aforementioned goals are of the highest priority, and acknowledge there is still plenty of room for The Campus to grow.
We want to be a newspaper for the community, but we must be a platform for the student experience first and foremost. This is our mission and this is where we will continue to improve. We want to prioritize true, genuine stories that reflect the milieu on campus, as well as in the surrounding town area. We believe our job is to capture the sentiments of life at Middlebury as we see it happening in real time, and inquire deeply. We acknowledge that in the past we have not always done this well.
The college press needs to mirror the student experience like a shadow at dusk. When someone walks about, the sun casts a mighty shadow of that person on the ground. No matter where that individual goes or what they confront, their shadow will be by their side depicting a larger version of themselves.
The Campus aims to function the same way. We wish to work alongside students by representing their opinions in print and bolstering those feelings, the way a shadow augments someone’s stature. When the student body faces hardship, whether it be racially charged incidents, the Trump administration’s threat to DACA or the Charles Murray fiasco, we as an editorial team strive to report on and defend the sentiments of the students.
In the Campus office we do debate such issues. We have our own opinions, but ultimately we aim to print the truth and channel how the student body feels overall. It is not our role to elevate our own voices; rather it is our duty to champion the perspectives being shared in McCullough, the AFC, in the dormitories, etc.
Moreover, we should be a microphone for students’ voices. We aim to be a means of amplifying what is already being said by folks around campus. When opinions are expressed, but neither the faculty, nor other students, nor the administration listen or respond, we will, to the best of our ability, be the loudspeaker that makes those attitudes clear and heard.
In this work of advocacy, we hope to build a more cohesive community. Collectively, Middlebury College needs to work towards greater solidarity during times of adversity. Recognizing the struggle and experiences of one another, amidst violent actions of racist assailants, is absolutely necessary. We create this cohesion through the paper by reflecting the student experience so that everyone is made aware. We also want to serve as a nexus of all student voices to propagate their views, while recognizing that some voices are historically and unfairly marginalized. We will equitably support the experiences of women, POCs, queer, disabled and poor folks in particular.
For those who feel we have the wrong objectives or are utterly failing to meet our standards, we implore you to propose how we can improve. We will seriously consider your criticism. However, we will not give praise where it is not due. We will not publish masturbatory tales about our community that belie the struggles this campus is going through. That sort of advertisement is left to the communications office.
If you do not like what we print, we invite you to write in. As long as they fit our editorial standards, we will publish your essays and letters. We ask you to exhibit “rhetorical resilience” and to not let the word of the press get you down. Instead, embrace what the words say, own your shortcomings, and work to improve and grow. It is what we plan to do.
(10/18/17 11:22pm)
The Crest Room: formerly a meeting space for the SGA during some hours, arts and crafts center at others and ambiguous pseudo-lounge when unlocked and unoccupied. Now it is a faculty lounge from the hours of 7:30 a.m. to 4:30 p.m. and a student lounge from 4:30 p.m. onwards. This makes the Crest Room one of precious few student spaces left on campus.
Several grades are overenrolled. Most dorm lounges have been converted to doubles or forced triples. The new meal plan will limit access to the dining halls, previously some of the most open, accessible places to congregate. And the organic farm, cherished by students for its beauty and idyllic sunsets, has now been rebranded as “The Knoll.”
Student spaces are neither prioritized nor present enough on campus, and the administration takes unilateral action too often. “The Knoll” is perhaps the best example. It is not clear why the organic farm was renamed, but many people, both students and garden staff, felt surprised by the change. It was negligent and patronizing to make such an unnecessary change to a place that is mostly enjoyed by students. The farm is a sanctuary that is used for events like picnics and star-gazing, which get students out of the library and enjoying the natural beauty of Vermont. Naming it the “The Knoll” feels like a commercialization of the experience at the farm. This renaming is part of a trend of the administration devaluing spaces specifically popular among students.
Even our student center, McCullough, the one space defined by its purpose to serve students, is threatened. McCullough is enjoyed and utilized by the student body, from academic study groups to gallivanting crowds on late Saturday nights. But the Crest Room, one of the better study areas in the student center, now belongs to faculty most of the day. While the room is not habitually used by students, it should still be a room for students.
This new role reversal is all too consistent with a general negligence regarding student held space. The student center should be a place of stability and comfort, which the students can always enter. It should not be conditional on how often we use it or whatever reason prompted the new faculty presence.
Middlebury staff know that student spaces are an issue, but there has been little change in the right direction. In October 2016, the college dean’s office launched a study, called “Social Life on Campus: Student Satisfaction and Social Culture,” to better understand student life. The report, conducted and prepared by James Terhune Consulting, was the result of focus groups with Middlebury College students.
They found that “virtually every group (including faculty and administrators) identified concerns about insufficient common areas and social spaces available to students.” Further, “many students expressed disappointment that McCullough is underutilized and is not a place that students use to hang-out, or where they are likely to casually encounter one another. Several students indicated they would like to see the Crossroads Café and the Grille open and accessible to students more often.”
The weekend hours of both the Grille and Crossroads are limited. A crowd manager could open these spaces on weekends in order to increase their use. Many students are crowd manager trained, and would jump at the chance to earn a little extra cash.
The administration ought to act swiftly given the results of the report they themselves commissioned. Our lack of a fully-functional student center is less pressing in early autumn, when outdoor picnic tables and Adirondack chairs are an option. But winter is coming, and with it a need to find suitable study and social spaces indoors.
In the past, the dining halls have served as a warm, available place for students to get together. Professors are technically welcome too. But for students, the experience is now fraught due to overwhelming lines and cluster created by the swipe system. It is near impossible during peak hours to go to the dining halls for a cup of coffee or just to socialize.
Indeed, the swipe system isn’t going away, but the college should listen to student feedback. Our formerly open dining plan had a tangible impact on Middlebury culture. The social aspect of the dining hall is critically important and must be preserved.
The concluding paragraphs of the James Terhune Consulting report assert the following: “The biggest take-aways . . . center on the ways in which the College engages, interacts, and partners with students on matters related to social life and the student experience broadly. Increasing student participation in governance and policy development, and improving communication with and to students about matters that greatly impact their lives and experience is crucially important.”
The college should take the findings of this report seriously. Student voices need to be included in discussions about repurposing and renaming spaces. Student life and overall happiness will benefit from this inclusion. After all, the best marketing strategy is to let the product speak for itself.
(10/11/17 10:21pm)
The college bookstore is an inevitable, unfortunate part of the Middlebury experience, contributing significantly to our school’s textbook problem. Middlebury does little to address the substantial burden of excessive textbook costs on students. Faculty can assemble booklists without regard for the price of a work and its value to their class. But instead of providing an affordable, convenient vendor to mitigate excessive expenses, the campus store is a price-gouging local monopoly.
The ludicrous cost of textbooks is not unique to Middlebury. Throughout the country students begin their semesters with jaw-dropping bills at their school stores. Students have admitted to spending over $300 for one book, an absurd pricetag even for those who can afford it, and these texts frequently offer little advantage over cheaper options or previous editions.
But Middlebury’s bookstore does a remarkably poor job of making affordable textbooks accessible. Though the bookstore sells new books at cost, they sell used textbooks at extreme markups, buying them for only 5 to 10 percent of face value and selling them for nearly the cost of a new text.
The store’s website claims that profits “offset the cost of what the college pays for education.” This statement is obscene and offensive to the students and families who pay tens of thousands of dollars each semester in tuition.
The lack of accessibility to textbooks for students on financial aid is a serious shortcoming of the college. At Middlebury, students on financial aid receive limited help in purchasing their textbooks. Some receive a loan to cover book costs but have to pay back the cost in full within a month or two. Some schools, like Williams, offer all students receiving assistance free textbooks. A scheme like this prioritizes learning by subsidizing the means of education. It is a matter of conscious allocation of capital.
While Williams does enjoy an endowment over twice as large as Middlebury’s, our college can still do better to prioritize subsidies for textbooks — a core mechanism of education — and ensure that students on financial aid do not face academic disadvantages.
In the meantime, students with financial need can reach out to professors requesting that copies of books needed for class be placed on reserve in the library. Bookstores in town can be a great resource too. We also recommend selling books on the Free & For Sale page or working with the library to keep costs low.
Options for improvement abound. The bookstore could work with professors to help them find high quality, affordable books. The store could also seek to ensure the same book is used each year, so students can be assured that the store will purchase their books at the end of the semester. It could even build a set of books available each semester to students in a particular course. Middlebury deserves a bookstore that benefits rather than exploits the student body.
The bookstore’s return policy preys on students, especially those in compromising financial situations. According to the policy on the bookstore website, students are only able to return a book for any reason up until the first Friday of classes for store credit. After this deadline, they must prove that they dropped the class for which they purchased the book, and may still receive only a partial refund in store credit. Additionally, CDs and shrink-wrapped books cannot be returned once opened, deterring students from exploring new classes during the add–drop period, one of the college’s greatest assets.
This return policy needs revision. It should not interfere with Middlebury’s generous period for course exploration, which encourages risk-taking and the pursuit of new interests in accordance with the liberal arts philosophy. In short, financial ability has no place in academic choice.
The college seeks profit in many ways beyond the tuition bill. Many seniors graduate with hundreds of dollars in Papercut balances and bookstore gift cards. But textbooks are fundamental to the learning experience.
As a college whose primary purpose is education, this school should make a conscious decision to make textbooks affordable. It must say no to profit margins, to capitalism in education, when knowledge itself becomes a commodity.
The content written within the Opinions pages may cause emotional distress. Please exercise discretion. The Opinions pages of The Middlebury Campus provide a forum for constructive and respectful dialogue on substantive issues. With this in mind, The Campus reserves the right to deny publication of all or part of a submission for any reason. This includes, but is not limited to: the making of assertions based on hearsay; the relation of private conversations; the libelous mention of unverifiable events; the use of vulgar language or personal attacks. Any segment of a submitted article that contains any of the aforementioned will be removed before publication. Contributors will be allowed to reference prior articles published in the Opinions section or announcements for the public record. If a reference is made to prior articles, the submission will be considered a letter to the editor. The opinions expressed by contributors to the Opinions section, as well as reviews, columns, editorial comics and other commentary, are views of the individual contributors and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of the newspaper. Submit works directly to the Opinions Editors, Drawer 30, campus@middlebury.edu or via the paper’s web site at www.middleburycampus.com. To be considered for publications, submissions must be received by 5 p.m. Sunday. The Campus reserves the right to edit all submissions.
(10/04/17 11:43pm)
Kneeling during the national anthem is a common form of protest right now — in the NFL and other settings. The contentious topic emerged in media and politics when Colin Kaepernick, former San Francisco 49ers quarterback, kneeled during the national anthem as an act of peaceful demonstration for Black Lives Matter in August 2016.
People have begun to debate whether or not the “kneeling” movement is anti-American, disrespectful and corrosive. Recently, in reference to “the kneel,” President Trump referred to the NFL protesters as “sons of bitches.” Others argue in Kaepernick’s favor. Somewhere along the way, in debating the efficacy of “the kneel,” we forgot the real, important reasons Kaepernick brought it to the table in the first place.
Discourse on the topic is decidedly fraught, and has been sensationalized in mainstream media outlets. But the Middlebury bubble is not immune to such conversations: “kneeling” during Nescac games has happened, too. Players kneeled in salute to Kaepernick’s cause during an Amherst football game last fall, as well as during a Wesleyan basketball game back in February. With the fall sports season at Middlebury well underway, how will we grapple with such questions? Will we kneel? Will we respect those who do, and those who do not?
At Middlebury, and perhaps at many similar liberal arts institutions, American institutions are openly challenged. In the classroom, we spend much of our time learning about our nation’s troubled past and present, fraught with injustices and inequalities. Sometimes, we learn things about our country we didn’t realize and aren’t proud of. It can lead some students to wonder if social justice movements can be conducted patriotically.
The rhetoric and imagery surrounding the national anthem protests seems to create the illusion of a social justice movement at odds with patriotism. Protesters accuse our country of hypocrisy. America’s founding documents espouse “life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness” and rhetoric of opportunity while black bodies are gunned down by the police. Black NFL players and those in solidarity kneel to speak out against repeated, systemic violence. Not everyone feels safe in America; not everyone feels fully protected by state institutions.
We all want a fairer America, an America that lives up to its rhetoric. By “kneeling,” some players no doubt feel they are acknowledging the hypocrisies of America — and the language of its anthem, the proverbial land of the incompletely free. They are calling on the country they love to do better.
What does this mean for our community at Middlebury? Protest is patriotism in its purest form; holding America to the high standards of its lofty ideals and sacrificing to improve it. We cannot condone flippant critiques of American systems lightly. But we can applaud and elevate critiques of American systems that are serious, brave and crucial.
Protest is pro-American and fundamentally American, since the Boston Tea Party and the country’s founding. Challenging one’s government, especially in oppressive circumstances, has always been a core American value, as evidenced by the Declaration of Independence itself: “When a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same Object evinces a design to reduce them under absolute Despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such Government, and to provide new Guards for their future security.”
We can recognize that to protest American institutions — whether that means standing up to a militarized police force or kneeling, on one of the most visible stages in sports and in television, in solidarity — is not to be “anti-American.” Indeed, the prerogative to fight for a more equitable union — challenging those with power in the process — is written into the very backbone of our nation.
We are taught at Middlebury to think critically about the institutions around us. But we shouldn’t stop at the armchair critique; we should take the lessons of protesters like Colin Kaepernick seriously, and fight for an America that does live up to the rhetoric upon which it was founded. Whether you choose to kneel or stand for the national anthem, if you play in or attend any of the Nescac events ahead, we encourage you to take the issue seriously.
Give it the time and attention it deserves. Use the opportunity to break the Middlebury bubble and talk about what it means to be an American today — in the era of Trump — outside of the narrow context of our idyllic Vermont landscape. Our nation is in a moment of flux, and Middlebury — despite the privileged bubble it inhabits — is not immune to that.
Remember, you can be proud of an imperfect nation. And, sometimes, the best way to show love for that nation is to challenge its imperfections, boldly and unapologetically.
(09/27/17 11:32pm)
Next month, Middlebury trustees will vote on a new mission statement to replace the existing version, first adopted in 2006. While many on campus may not know the current college credo, its importance should not be understated, nor should the shortcomings of the proposed replacement. A mission statement defines a school’s core values and highest aspirations. But the proposed revision does little to capture the essence of Middlebury College or provide a clear vision for the future of the school.
The proposed new mission statement reads:
Middlebury College seeks to create a transformative learning experience for our students, built from a strong foundation in the liberal arts and supported within an inclusive, residential environment. We not only inspire our undergraduates to grapple with challenging questions about themselves and the world, but we also foster the inquiry, equity and agency necessary for them to practice ethical citizenship at home and far beyond our Vermont campus.
The new mission statement bears little resemblance to its predecessor, loosely defining the school’s pedagogy with glib, cliché buzzwords like “inclusivity,” “equity,” and “agency,” while avoiding any mention of Middlebury’s unique campus community. It excludes reference to Middlebury’s extensive undergraduate offerings, environmental stewardship and international focus, valuable aspects of the college that the current mission clearly states. Indeed, the proposed statement fails so completely to capture the values and character of the college that it could easily pass as the mission statement for virtually any liberal arts college in the nation.
A statement of core beliefs and aspirations should offer a clear vision for the school and a guiding philosophy for periods of hardship like the numerous challenges posed by the past year, yet the proposed mission statement does neither. Values with broad definitions like inclusivity and equity merit explanation. Middlebury’s mission statement should serve as an outline of our community’s values which can be used to consider various ethical dilemmas, like the Charles Murray lecture, which seem to put our appreciation of free speech and inclusivity at odds. The new statement puts forth few concrete values, making it virtually useless as a tool to guide our community.
Of course, the current mission statement has its shortcomings. It does not mention the liberal arts, which is a strength of the new version. Nor does the existing one touch upon the college’s partnership with the town of Middlebury or provide even the slightest nod to valuing diversity. The college strives to embrace a myriad of identities, opinions and experiences, so this should be explicit in our mission. Moreover, the school should stress its commitment to Addison County. Established to serve as the town’s college, Middlebury should care deeply about its neighbors, and there is much to learn from the people who live outside these landscaped quads.
Ultimately, little will change next month regardless of the fate of the proposed mission statement. Unwritten, the finest aspects of our college community will live on, embodied in our community. Mission statements are supposed to evolve with the school and its values. But we should take concern with the school’s unwillingness to commit to preserving the unique aspects of the Middlebury that make it stand out among its peers. More concerning is the committee’s failure to offer a clearly articulated vision that can be looked to for guidance in trying times.
(09/20/17 11:39pm)
For those less familiar with the Obama-era Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA) program, here’s a brief summary: The program began in 2012 with an executive order issued by President Obama. It allows for individuals brought to the United States as children to receive deferred action from deportation. DACA recipients pay a significant fee and submit the proper documentation. They must meticulously prove (among other requirements) that: they have a high school diploma, are in school or served in the military; do not have a criminal record; and entered the country before the age of sixteen and have not left since.
In addition to the clear challenge of not being native born in the U.S., non-permanent resident immigrants like DACA recipients bear an inordinate burden, daily. Now, under the Trump Administration, the program is in grave danger. The President has repealed the executive order under the pretense that he wishes for Congress to solidify it into formal legislation. It is hard to know Trump’s true intentions, but regardless, DACA is gone in six months if Congress cannot agree on something.
However, in this editorial, we will aim to address the issue as it applies to Middlebury College. We understand that DACA and immigration is a national issue, but we want to take the conversation beyond divisive Congressional lines and recognize that this issue affects members of this community, whether we know them personally or not — or whether we are even aware of their presence on this campus. Immigration should not be a partisan issue. No one is illegal and everyone has a right to a decent living and the pursuit of happiness. Neither side of our representatives in D.C. have ever been wholly on the moral side of this debate, a point we find valuable when considering the tension this conversation brings.
We, the Editorial board, would like to address the “DACAmented” and undocumented students on campus to make clear that we value your presence in our community and stand with you in this time of uncertainty and fear. We recognize the severity of the end of the program, and want you to know that, despite the actions of the current presidential administration, we believe in your right to live, work, learn and thrive in this country.
We know that belief is often cheap abstraction. It won’t make you feel safer or less vulnerable. It won’t give you the tangible support that you need, and we realize that.
First, we would like to commend college administration for their proactive efforts in supporting “DACAmented” and undocumented students. Although the college may not be in a position of complete power to support and defend these students, we believe the prioritization of this concern is not to be understated. We want to follow the administration’s model and discuss some concrete priorities we see for all levels of the Middlebury College community in supporting immigrants, documented or otherwise, on campus.
The executive order that established DACA was a temporary fix, and the security of Dreamers’ lives here in the United States cannot be ensured short of federal law. We hope for a pronounced legislative effort to permanently solidify some form of the DACA program that guarantee basic and permanent rights for Dreamers. At the Middlebury College level, we encourage all members to participate in the democratic process in the methods to which we are accustomed: writing to our Congressional offices, volunteering with or donating to immigrants’ rights organizations and participating in peaceful protests. We need to show the country that this issue matters to us and that we demand change.
We further hope that the administration will continue to make this issue a priority, even when the primary national focus inevitably shifts elsewhere. Even with a solution for the approximately 800,000 DACA recipients, many undocumented immigrants (some living within our small Middlebury community) will still be left living in fear of deportation, a reality many of us never have to consider. As we move forward in our targeted support of Dreamers, we cannot forget the millions that are left without options. For those that are able, we must leverage our status-based privilege to show our community, both local and national, that we support the rights of immigrants. Moreover, it isn’t enough to merely believe in the value of immigrants; we must take action. We must proudly fight with them to achieve a secure life in this country.
(09/14/17 4:06am)
The word “community” is a trite word on this campus — in classes, in club meetings, in glossy admission materials. Since the beginning of her tenure, President Laurie Patton has stressed the importance of “rhetorical resilience” in strengthening the communal ethos of Middlebury.
But when it comes to the long and complicated work of building a more just and tolerant community, what is the non-rhetorical (interpersonal) labor necessary? Our campus is small and intimate. Trust is the underlying fiber that weaves us together.
It’s safe to say that this core tenet of our campus is fractured. Charles Murray’s appearance last spring revealed and exacerbated the pre-existing rifts that divided us and continue to drive us apart — between people and systems, between people and people. Those schisms were picked up by national media outlets, exploited, sensationalized. Everyone had an opinion on how and why the Murray incident occurred and what should have happened instead. The drama was discussed and re-discussed. Some voices were amplified, others drowned out. Now that the national media has moved on, we’re left in this shared space to mend our community.
The turbulence surrounding Charles Murray’s visit wasn’t about him. His visit was merely the straw that broke the camel’s back — the incident that opened up the floodgates and revealed the burgeoning tension, frustration and anger that lived on our campus. What the event proves is that Middlebury was not, and still is not, the ideologically homogeneous bubble that some may have believed it to be. We must address this reality head-on because the events of March 2 unveiled divisions and threatened our trust in one another.
The usual conversations about race, class and gender will help us begin to heal. But it is crucial that we move forward with more rigor, and especially more vulnerability, to rebuild our shared space. Vulnerability is what allows us to change and improve. When we are vulnerable we are transparent, revealing our most authentic selves — especially the flaws — and making us more empathetic and prepared to grow.
But it’s hard to guarantee vulnerability. It’s a challenging, serious thing to ask of anyone. True vulnerability is nearly unheard of from our administration, a body bound up in obscure legal requirements and inhibited by a strict PR narrative. Meanwhile, the faculty are vulnerable on occasion. Take when Bert Johnson publicly apologized for the departmental process of symbolically co-sponsoring Charles Murray’s talk. But more often than not, the faculty — worried, in every likelihood, about upholding authority in the classroom — seem rigid and lacking in tenderness.
Moreover, as students at an elite college, we are trained to believe we are perfect and “good, open-minded people.” But this hubris is not conducive for vulnerability. We are not good at admitting fault. All this serves to create distance, fear and distrust.
We also need to assume the best of each other. A successful community requires a foundation of goodwill. We must engage with people in a way that allows everyone to fail and learn, while recognizing that the onus of explaining and educating falls on the same groups of people all too often. This is hard to balance, but not impossible. Rebuilding the trust between students, faculty and the administration starts with recognizing that many in our community face challenges to their identity, and sometimes humanity.
It also means problematic ideas should be confronted accordingly and not indicted as malice. Similarly, systems and institutions should not be confused with individuals. We as students can criticize the administration and faculty, while simultaneously acknowledging individual administrators and professors who are serving our best interests. We all can stand to be more sensitive and patient as we look to make our campus an example of unity, equity and kinship.
All members of the Middlebury community — including the 638 new freshmen we are welcoming this fall — should believe in each other’s goodness and be dangerously vulnerable. In the past, The Campus has used its position of relative power in ways that have alienated fellow members of our community. We pledge to better use our platform to amplify the voices of those who have been speaking up about injustice at Middlebury all along — such as the AFC and cultural organizations.
Certain student leaders have stressed, time and time again, the importance of refusing to shy away from the effects of division and inequity at Middlebury. We need to learn and build from the mistakes of last year. We will undoubtedly make more, but with commitment, this year can be one of growth for our community.
(05/11/17 3:57am)
On April 20, 2017, Professor Bert Johnson wrote in to this paper with an apology. This doesn’t happen frequently; we were surprised and moved. Professor Johnson, chair of the Political Science Department, wrote that he regretted the manner in which department co-sponsorship was issued to Charles Murray’s speech on campus. “The short amount of time between when the event became public and when it occurred gave all of us scant opportunity to listen to and understand alternative points of view. Most importantly, and to my deep regret, it contributed to a feeling of voicelessness that many already experience on this campus, and it contributed to the very real pain that many people – particularly people of color – have felt as a result of this event.”
Professor Johnson’s apology is, in many ways, the impetus for this week’s editorial. As an editorial board, we would like to thank Professor Johnson for his honesty, candor and courage not in retracting his decision, but in showing vulnerability and conceding that his actions may have caused pain in others. Professor Johnson didn’t base his apology in upholding lofty abstract principles, but rather in the fact that he hurt people on this campus. He represents an admirable desire to resist the urge to over-intellectualize issues and instead choose to recognize the pain one can cause, particularly in our small Middlebury community.
Unfortunately, we aren’t always very good at doing that. Why should we be? Many members of the Middlebury community got here by succeeding; by sounding smart, by developing transcripts that supposedly “prove” we know things. We argue to win, not to listen. As students, we’re pretty collectively insecure about admitting when we don’t know things, and we don’t make room for others to make mistakes. There’s pressure in classrooms, in forums and even in dining hall conversations to prove not only our intellectualism but also that we are “woke” in a kind of verbal posturing that places excessive value on certain kinds of speech, and excludes those who don’t have the vocabulary to discuss issues of race, gender, class and so on.
For this, we commend Professor Johnson’s humility and his ability to see that offering an apology does not discredit him; rather, it reveals his willingness to put the weight of a reconsidered issue above ego. It reveals not only his humanity but his ability to recognize the humanity in others. In the wake of contentious events like the March 2 protest and the election of Donald Trump, we’ve seen members of our community go on the defensive and assume the worst in others. We leave little room for nuance, and group people in categories of right or wrong, with us or against us. We misread ignorance as coming from a place of malevolence rather than lack of experience, and create spaces where people of other opinions do not feel safe to express themselves, make mistakes and, most importantly, learn. March 2 happened as it did largely as a result of a specific culture we have developed on this campus. It was a symptom of various issues here, and it will not go away unless we, collectively as a Middlebury community, decide to change the way in which we navigate our differences.
Conversations about the intersections of identity and free speech will continue. Professors: you have a responsibility to create fair spaces in which to address these issues if they come up, ones in which one set of ideas (or a means of expressing those ideas) is not inherently privileged. If you don’t know how to do that, admit that you don’t know how. We as a student body need our professors to demonstrate to us that it is okay, inevitable and necessary to be confused and even wrong. By doing so, you can uphold the lofty ideals of academic institutions espoused throughout the Charles Murray debate as more than an intellectual value, but a pedagogical practice. You can show us that college is a place for the airing of all views that need to be challenged. Administrators: you have a responsibility to create an environment in which students and faculty are not incentivized to put ego and title above listening. You set the institutional example. You, too, can embody the idea that apologies are examples of strength, not weakness.
Many students on our editorial board recalled their professors expressing a sense of loss or confusion after the 2016 presidential election, an inability to manage discussion or even process what was happening, whether in a classroom setting or otherwise. That kind of honesty and vulnerability is what can make the wounds of this community heal. This is a small college. For students, it’s more than a place of learning; it’s a 24-hour home. We all feel a sense of responsibility for what happens here. We’re going to need to have some hard conversations in the near future, conversations that will take immense emotional labor and vulnerability. These conversations can’t and won’t happen unless we, as committed members of the Middlebury community, are ready to listen, empathize and learn.