Last weekI was on the road for Wesleyan, and I attended admissions events in Los Angeles and Bangkok. On my way back from Thailand, I stopped in Singapore for the opening of Yale-NUS College. I wrote about this in The Atlantic.
Here are a couple of the key points:
Liberal education in American history has often been powerful because it has challenged the status quo. Liberal education today that is worthy of the name must recover the capacity to be untimely so as to equip teachers and students with the courage and the ability to resist the demand for the narrowly vocational.
As I celebrated the establishment of this new college, I found myself recalling that American liberal education at its best has little to do with the debate about a “common core” or about distribution requirements. This tradition is about freedom as the practice of inquiry. That’s why in 1829 David Walker talked about education when calling for slave rebellion among his fellow African Americans: “I pray,” he wrote, “that the Lord may undeceive my ignorant brethren and permit them to throw away pretensions and seek after the substance of learning.” That’s why, almost a century later, W.E.B. Du Bois criticized the call for education to be more vocational, writing that “there is an insistence on the practical in a manner and tone that would make Socrates an idiot and Jesus Christ a crank.”
I also thought of Jane Addam’s commitment to empathy and to affectionate interpretation, and of John Dewey’s “practical idealism.” Addams supported learning that enabled one to better understand and act on points of view quite different from one’s own, and Dewey envisioned a pragmatic liberal education that would address the pressing problems of the day with a variety of perspectives and methodologies. My highest aspiration for the new “American-style” college in Singapore is the aspiration that Walker and Du Bois, Addams and Dewey had for liberal education: to promote freedom as a good in itself and to be a vehicle for expanding individuals’ knowledge of themselves and the world.
These are points I’ve made in Middletown — and anyplace else I get the chance. You can read the full article here.
Give a big Wesleyan cheer to Janice Naegele, professor of biology, neuroscience and behavior, for the honor to be bestowed upon her by the Society of Neuroscience. According to the association, the Louise Hanson Marshall Special Recognition Award honors “individuals who have significantly promoted the professional development of women in neuroscience through teaching, organizational leadership, public advocacy, and more.” Here’s what the society says:
Naegele began her career studying the characteristics of cortical neurons and more recently has performed pioneering studies of transplantation of inhibitory neurons in the brain as a potential treatment for severe epilepsy. She has also been an avid communicator and advocate for the study and treatment of epilepsy. As director of the Center for Faculty Career Development at Wesleyan, Prof. Naegele has worked tirelessly to raise awareness about and reduce bias against women in academia.
Jan is a mentor to faculty colleagues as well as students. An active researcher, she also supports efforts to make science clear to a broad audience. We are fortunate to have Jan Naegele as a colleague, and it is a delight to join in this recognition of her achievements.
Wesleyan alumna Orelia Jonathan ’15 recently sent the following note to the African Student Association:
As some of you may or may not know, Buagji, the village in Western Equitoria, Sudan, where my father was born and where I based much of the research for my thesis, was burnt to the ground on Friday night by the SPLA armed forced (Southern Sudanese Government). This atrocity occurred after the small village resisted a cattle raid by another tribe and called the government for protection. Instead of protecting the village, the government, who is run by members of the same tribe that attempted the cattle raid, came and opened fire on civilians – my people and family members – as well as burned and looted most of the houses in the village, including the school that Geneva and I have spent the past couple of years raising money to support.
Some of you might also realize that this is the same village where [her sister] Geneva [Jonathan ’15] and I laid down foundations to build a Women’s Maternity Health Clinic and general health center this past summer with a grant we received from Wesleyan University.
Right now there are approximately 1000 families hiding in the mountains and jungle (including my own family and baby cousins) and there are hundreds of children who are terribly hungry because the soldiers took all of the food and the village people were unable to take food because they had to flee.
Orelia has offered this update:
The same region of Western Equatoria, near Jambo, was attacked again on October 5 by armed government helicopters. Still no international news has taken up the story of these civilians, who are NOT part of the military opposition. A very few have taken up (small) arms to defend their land. The only reports come from the opposition army, where they are interpreted as “allegations” only. We cannot believe these attacks have not been reported internationally.
We received word that families (including my own) are still hiding 10-15 miles from the road, with some returning to their villages by dark of night to get food. Those areas that are a little further from the road have not yet been attacked, although people do not feel able to return to them safely. The UN has promised to follow-through with the so-called peace agreement insofar as possible, and has supported the establishment of an African Union war crimes court in South Sudan. These, however, are long-term solutions and do nothing to protect our people right now.
Please continue to help spread the word about these atrocities, for they have gone on for far too long- and hundreds of innocent people are going hungry as a result or worse, being killed. To read a news article about the most recent attack, click here.
Orelia has set up a go-fund-me page here. You can find updates and lend a hand.
Wesleyan is very fortunate to have many faculty members who connect their deep academic specializations with urgent contemporary issues. The Allbritton Center for the Study of Public Life is the most visible sign of the University’s commitment in this regard. Gun violence is certainly a national problem that shatters lives and communities with sickening regularity. Before the latest school shooting in Oregon, Jennifer Tucker (history, science in society, feminist, gender and sexuality studies) had written a strong opinion piece that contextualized debates about guns. In an op-ed picked up by several newspapers, Prof. Tucker has argued that “one fact stands out: Guns might not kill people, but guns get people killed.” She goes on to say that “it would be great to see gun owners get more involved in arguing for basic limits on the proliferation of firearms that would help reduce the numbers of deaths and casualties of firearm-related violence in America today. One thing they should do is familiarize themselves with the true history of the American frontier, where gun restrictions were seen as conducive to a healthy nation.” She has expanded on this argument in a WNPR interview.
Yesterday, Prof. Tucker joined with health sciences and epidemiology professor Matthew Miller in writing an opinion piece for the Boston Globe that underscores the public health dimension of America’s infatuation with unregulated gun trafficking. They conclude that “firearm violence is a public health crisis no less serious than those associated with automobiles. Our experience with autos and pollution shows that, along with other measures, sensible gun regulations could save lives.”
The massacre at Umpqua Community College is another reminder just how catastrophic the combination of mental illness and access to deadly weapons can be. Education can not exist in a context of deadly threats. Civil society, itself, depends on the regulation of the mechanisms of violence.
Thank you, Jennifer Tucker, for combining history, engagement and civic responsibility in your ongoing work. I only wish it was less urgent!
Satoshi Omura, for many years Wesleyan’s Max Tishler Professor of Chemistry, was awarded a share of the Nobel Prize for Medicine this morning for developing a new drug, Avermectin. A derivative of that drug, Ivermectin, has nearly eradicated river blindness and radically reduced the incidence of filariasis, which causes the disfiguring swelling of the lymph system in the legs and lower body known as elephantiasis.
Professor Omura’s association with Wesleyan began in 1971 when he spent a year and a half working with the late Max Tishler, professor of chemistry. During this time, he isolated a new species of microorganism, Streptomyces avermitilis, which is the source of avermectin. He and Prof. Tishler gave their findings to Merck, Sharp & Dohme which developed the derivative ivermectin which prevents river blindness. Throughout their lives he stayed in touch with Max and Betty Tishler; making sure to visit them and the chemistry department at Wes whenever he was in the United States. In 1994, Wesleyan awarded Dr. Omura a Doctor of Science honorary degree.
Over the last few years I have had the honor of visiting with Dr. Omura and celebrating his accomplishments. He has remained dedicated to the pursuit of science and the arts, finding in nature the possibilities of alleviating suffering and promoting human flourishing. Long a pioneer in “discovering bioactive chemicals derived from naturally-occurring microorganisms,” he has also found ways to connect the arts to human well-being.
Congratulations to Satoshi Omura for this well-deserved recognition of his extraordinary achievements!
Lots of good stuff in the new issue of Wesleyan magazine. Charles Salas’ essay on pedagogical innovation makes clear that at Wes there is a great tradition of wanting “to create as much space as possible for humane interactions among faculty and students.” Going back to the creation of interdisciplinary colleges created in the 1950s under President Victor Butterfield, Salas shows how the Wesleyan campus has been a fertile ground for experimenting to create the most effective forms of liberal education.
I was particularly interested in the section of the article on Project Based Learning (PBL). Salas gives an account of how Profs. Michael Weir and Ruth Johnson in Biology have developed new strategies for teaching aimed at improving learning and reducing attrition in the sciences, and he talks with Prof. Jan Naegele about support for this kind of work at Wesleyan:
Project-based Learning (PBL) is also at the heart of Professor Psyche Loui’s courses in psychology. Her Advanced Research Methods Course in Auditory Cognitive Neuroscience is entirely PBL. After reviewing the latest studies in auditory cognitive neuroscience—especially with respect to speech and music—students design and implement their own group project. One such project, using music to help people with epilepsy, led to a publication. So did a project looking at how rhythm affects the way music and language are processed in the brain. Loui remembers with some amusement and not a little fondness when one student (a rapper, she discovered) started rapping in the middle of class discussion to demonstrate a point. She loves it when students apply scientific insights to their own life. And she and her students are not the only ones to love that. Last month the Imagination Institute at the University of Pennsylvania awarded Loui a $200,000 grant to use brain studies to explore the mental trajectories of aesthetic imagination and creativity in jazz improvisation.
Wesleyan’s mission statement describes the education it seeks to offer as “characterized by boldness, rigor, and practical idealism.” The word “boldness” is meant to signal openness to pedagogical innovation, and the term “practical idealism” points to the ability of students to translate what they learn in addressing real world problems, be it creating an online community for amputees or music that helps epileptics. Wesleyan is interested in doing more with PBL, which often results in greater engagement on the part of students, deeper understanding of concepts, and improved collaborative and communications skills.
“In biology, computer science, mathematics, and physics,” notes Naegele, “PBL is also encouraging the participation of more women and minority students.” Major national foundations, impressed with what the university has been doing so far, have proved eager to help, awarding Wesleyan with grants to promote (and assess) PBL across the curriculum. This includes support for pedagogical workshops and either course relief or course overload pay for faculty who want to create PBL courses.
Whether in Project Based work, interdisciplinary colleges or blended learning with flipped classrooms, pedagogical innovation is alive and well at Wesleyan!
A few days ago,Wesleyan trustee (and my classmate) Irma Gonzalez forwarded me a moving essay by another board member, Al Young ’88. It was recently published in the Detroit News. Given that his subject is so close to many of our own campus’s conversations, I asked him if I might reprint his piece here.
Al is the Arthur F. Thurnau Professor and Department Chair in the Department of African and Afro-American Studies at the University of Michigan. His fields of study are culture and knowledge; race, ethnicity and immigration, and social psychology.
Al Young and sons
My late father and I really began to hit it off during my teenage years. Prior to that I struggled to understand him. As a child, a relative told me a story about how my father as a young man had hoped to be a parent of daughters because his own stepfather had convinced him that boys were just too much trouble. My father’s firstborn was a girl, and I, as his second and last child, sometimes thought that my birth somehow let him down.
I do not recall ever talking to him about this, but I also never thought much about the matter after turning 16. It was then that I felt like I truly made sense to my dad, as he did to me. I began feeling that I wasn’t so bad after all. Truthfully, I never was. This was much unlike some of the guys I grew up with in New York City’s East Harlem, where there seemed to be no shortage of young black and brown men in trouble. I never experienced their kind of trouble, and at age 16, I began feeling that whatever insecurities I had about being my dad’s son were replaced by the euphoric feeling that he was happy to have me in his life.
My father was a college-educated professional, so the poverty surrounding our family in East Harlem was never brought into our household. Instead, my teenage years were spent getting to know my father and his social worlds. Among other things he taught me that anything he achieved was within my grasp, but he also let me know that at any point in time I could be underestimated and prejudged because I am a black man.
I experienced integrated schooling since the first grade. My parents had more resources than many of our neighbors, so going to school in this Caucasian environment was counterbalanced by returning home to East Harlem — a social world full of struggling Latinos and African-Americans. I learned to navigate race by moving between these social worlds (what we today call code-switching). Through elementary and high school I had white friends and black friends, and I was one of few who regularly engaged people on each side of the divide.
As a child of the 1970s and ’80s, the rules of engagement were clear. Black boys had their ways of talking to each other, and black and white boys never ventured into the terrain of black-on-black conversation. Occasionally some of my white friends took an interest in the emerging phenomenon called hip-hop, but most struggled to understand why any group would want to rhyme about themselves over tracks of music made by somebody else. The parties in high school were never really integrated. In my all-male Catholic high school, the black boys attended the one party a year hosted by the black student organization. The other parties were not on our calendar as the two racially distinct worlds got along side-by-side, in the lunchroom, classroom, practice field, and the stands.
Three decades later, I am the parent of two boys, teaching at the University of Michigan and living in Ann Arbor. My goal has been to create the same quality of relationship with my boys that I experienced with my dad. A well-respected family sociologist once told me that I could never live with my children the way I lived with my father. Her comment encouraged me to think about how East Harlem of the 1970s and 1980s was not at all like the Ann Arbor of the 21st century. As I raise my family, I am reminded of this all the time.
My oldest son is nearly 17. His peer group includes young men of various races and ethnicities. In fact, he has rarely experienced racially distinct social circles. He has grown up hearing the N-word not as an intentionally derogatory term but as part of Hip Hop culture. It seems that every young person listens to Hip Hop today, and popular culture offers no grounds for making racial distinctions. Today, race talk happens exclusively at home for my sons rather than with friends as it did back then. The discussions my wife and I have with him and his 12-year-old brother about race often seem to me to be suited for children of the 1980s.
To be fair, my sons understand that race matters. We talk about the public responses to President Barack Obama in ways that make it clear that they realize that it does. Yet, I long for them to understand why race matters. After all, they have never had to divide their life experiences in the same way as I did. My boys understand the civil rights movement not as a time in which the adults in their lives fought for social justice (as I recall thinking in the 70s and 80s), but as an historic moment of some time ago — a part of history just like slavery.
Today they don’t have to talk about race. Social media allows them to non-verbally access all kinds of people and situations that can be all about race. And none require face-to-face interactive skills that had to be employed in the past. Today talk among youth is facilitated by technology, which allows so much to be shared with so many, all without anyone having to actually talk to anybody. Hence, young people can claim to know so much about other people and their life situations without ever having to directly confront them or their issues.
And that makes me nervous. I am nervous not because I doubt the ability of my sons to become who they want to be in the future. I am nervous because, like any parent, I worry about that which I am hopeful for, but cannot control, which is their future. More importantly, as a black man and father I am nervous because I am still trying to figure out the racial rules that they abide by when so much of the game seems the same.
Black males can be killed for walking down the street (Trayvon Martin), arguing with the police (Michael Brown) or face-down on the platform of a municipal train station (Oscar Grant), yet theirs is a single social world with no public space to retreat and reflect. The only space is at home with mom and dad, neither of whom can figure out why so many youth today so casually use the N-word, and why our boys sometimes act like their fates are so common with others when so much happens to us that does not happen to them.
I tell my oldest son (and my youngest more so in recent years), that the internet cannot give you all you need to know about interacting with police, whether in small towns or large cities. My son is quite knowledgeable of local laws and policies (another by-product of the internet), but this does not substitute for knowing how to act in public, I warn. And despite what the law says, I tell him that associating with people in trouble means that you will be in trouble as well if the police are around.
Because he weighs 215 pounds and wears a size 14 shoe, I warn him that not everyone, certainly not some police, will necessarily see him as the boy he is. I tell him that although he has a way to go to be a man, he must know right now that others will think of him and act toward him as a man, and what the law says may not matter for how such others may respond to him in the mall, after the concert or the game, or on the street.
The streets of Ann Arbor may strike many as innocent, but my son goes to concerts in Detroit, visits relatives in New York City and loves to vacation in Chicago. Those streets demand that a young black male know not just the law, but how easily he can be seen as unlawful in the eyes of others. This insight cannot be garnered through social media, and it seems to have no place in his peer group discussions.
Consequently, I strive to tell him that the power of race is such that what people do, especially in moments of uncertainty and confusion, may not correspond with his idea of proper conduct. Hence, he cannot always assume that people will think of him as a proper young man, irrespective of how he thinks about and conducts himself. I tell him and his brother that just because there may be less talk about race today, whether because people have decided that it’s just not right to talk about or because they do not talk much at all because they are texting, that at any point in time, in any place, race may make all the difference for what happens to them and why.
Today (Saturday, Sept 26th) is the opening of Wesleyan’s football season, Middletown Day, and an opportunity to thank veterans for their service.
Much of the action will take place around Andrus Field. Family activities will run from 11 a.m.–2:30 p.m. and will include a bounce house, a face painter, a balloon artist, live music and free popcorn. Other food will be on sale. There also will be a Resource Fair with informational booths from campus and community organizations, located in the Huss Courtyard behind Usdan University Center.
Beginning at 12:30 p.m., Wesleyan Football will play Middlebury College on Andrus Field. The Middletown Police Bagpipe Association will lead veterans in attendance onto the field for recognition. The halftime show will feature a performance by the Middletown High School Marching Band.
Wesleyan will host veterans from the greater Middletown community, as well as veterans from our staff, faculty, student body and alumni.
Other athletic contests taking place that day include Women’s Soccer vs. Bates at 11 a.m. on Jackson Field; Women’s Field Hockey vs. Bates at 11 a.m. on Smith Field; Women’s Volleyball vs. U.S. Coast Guard Academy at noon in the Freeman Athletic Center’s Silloway Gymnasium; and Men’s Soccer vs. Bates at 2:30 p.m. on Jackson Field.
It should be a great day for our community, a great day to be a Cardinal!
This afternoon, Provost Joyce Jacobsen, Vice-President Antonio Farias and I sent the following message to the student newspaper The Argus. Along with other faculty and staff, I am happy to discuss these issues with members of the campus community in the coming days and weeks.
Many students turned out for a powerful panel discussion on the importance of the Black Lives Matter movement earlier this week. The panelists underscored issues of structural racism in general and police brutality in particular. Earlier in the week The Argus published an op-ed that questioned whether “the [BLM] movement itself [is] actually achieving anything positive? Does it have the potential for positive change?” Many students took strong exception to the article; it was meant to be a provocative piece. Some students not only have expressed their disagreement with the op-ed but have demanded apologies, a retraction and have even harassed the author and the newspaper’s editors. Some are claiming that the op-ed was less speech than action: it caused harm and made people of color feel unsafe.
Debates can raise intense emotions, but that doesn’t mean that we should demand ideological conformity because people are made uncomfortable. As members of a university community, we always have the right to respond with our own opinions, but there is no right not to be offended. We certainly have no right to harass people because we don’t like their views. Censorship diminishes true diversity of thinking; vigorous debate enlivens and instructs.
In the long run, Wesleyan will be a much more caring and inspiring community when we can tolerate strong disagreements. Through our differences we can learn from one another.
Michael Roth, President
Joyce Jacobsen, Provost
Antonio Farias, Vice-President for Equity and Inclusion
*9/20/15: Edited to reflect that the piece in The Argus was an op-ed, not a Wespeak.
This week I sent the following message asking for ideas on how we can address the refugee crisis to Wesleyan students, faculty and alumni. I have been in touch with other university presidents about collaborating in this regard. Some have asked “why this issue?” Others wonder if it is the “university’s business” to try to crowd source ideas on political/social issues. This is a momentous human tragedy unfolding around the world, and I have hopes that tapping into the ideas of our community (and other university groups) will, at a minimum, raise awareness about it, and, perhaps, result in some concrete, practical actions. Wesleyan has had a long commitment to “the good of the world,” to use Wilbur Fisk’s words, and not just to ourselves. Let’s see what we can do!
Please send your ideas to: ideas@wesleyan.edu
Many of us have been horrified by images of thousands of refugees from Syria (and elsewhere) struggling to make their way to safety. Some governments are beginning to welcome thousands displaced by war and violence, while others actively discourage asylum seekers. I have been particularly appalled by the actions and rhetoric of xenophobic leaders (and would-be leaders) bringing fascistic hatred back to public life. But what can we do about it?
My wife (and COL professor) Kari Weil and I began talking about what positive actions we at universities might take, and she suggested I turn to the Wes community for ideas. I raised the issue at the first faculty meeting of the year. What can we do about this refugee crisis? As a university, a place devoted to learning and building community, what can we do to lend a hand in this terrible time? There will be panels and teach-ins—formal and informal. Should our role also be one of advocacy, or should we try to find ways to sponsor a group of people who need asylum? Should we focus on educating our own folks about these issues, or should we make more direct interventions (perhaps with other schools)? What other ideas do you have?
We can certainly petition the White House to dramatically increase the numbers of Syrian refugees being allowed into the United States. President Obama could make a “Presidential Determination” to increase the 2015 number of 70,000 refugees to 200,000 for 2016 and prioritize receiving 100,000 Syrian refugees within this number. We can donate to organizations assisting the most vulnerable of those seeking asylum. We can work with Middletown towards becoming a “Welcoming City,” or establish internships for students who want to help. Ideas like these have come in from alumni, students and faculty members, and I want to collect suggestions from all sectors of the Wesleyan community. I am also writing to other university leaders to see if they might do something similar and how we might pool our ideas. Perhaps we can come up with actions that will actually help on the ground. In any case, we are sure to learn a lot about a vital issue in the process.
Please send in your ideas to ideas@wesleyan.edu and stay tuned for other ways to participate as we think together about how we can respond to this acute crisis. I’ll share suggestions I get with Professor Rob Rosenthal, director of the Allbritton Center for the Study of Public Life, and talk with faculty, staff and student representatives about how we might proceed. I’ll consult with alumni working in the field and report back on this topic on my blog and in newsletters later this semester.
Being horrified is not enough. Our mission statement evokes “practical idealism.” Let’s live up to it!
