Evocations

Back Pages of the Chronicle

For folks in higher education, the back page of the Chronicle Review, the more magazine-y portion of the Chronicle of Higher Education is somehow mythic. It stands for something. I am not sure what -- some sort of quasi-popular essayist kind of writing that draws academics in, as though we are stooping to resognize ourselves in some out sized mirror. (Yes, a very mixed metaphor.) 

Among the many essays that appear there, recently Alyce Miller wrote one entitled "Worshiping 'the Book'". The scare quotes around 'the Book' indicate both the irony -- and the mischief -- she intends, as she discusses academics discussing their work. What she argues is this: there is a sort of fetishization of "the" book linked to success within academia insofar as success is about the requirements of tenure as articulated at many institutions. The silliest version she cites is when something published as a series of pieces, in various venues, magically becomes more important, more successful, more emplyability worthy, when published together as a book. Hmmm.

Having said that, the same issue of the Chronicle Review (still Section B of the Chronicle of Higher Education) has a cover story entitled "Things We Do with Books" by Jennifer Howard. The essay discusses research on reading -- in various settings and in various sites. Do you cry when you read sometimes? Do you underline? Where do you read? How will people 50 years from now know what our reading is like? What does it mean that some books sit unread on our shelves (and, for example, Harman Melville never read. . . . this or that book about whaling)? Do I read to keep you away from me on the airpane or at breakfast? Do you read to broker a relationship with others? 

These are not only fascinating questions, they are important ones. Hmmmm. 

And all this in the December 21, 2012 issue of the Chronicle! 

And, BTW, when googling Jennifer Howard, I discovered this piece, in which she writes about the Social Reading Project in which Shimer participates. Small world. I may have found a new wonderful favorite blog. 

What Does Rich Mean to You?

Of course, rich has many meanings -- financially secure and more, deeply textured and full, and related meanings. (Shound you wish, you could check out a dictionary definition here or the wikipedia entry here which is utterly goofy.) But in what is often one of my rhetorical strategies, those meanings are not where I am heading today. Instead, I am heading to Rich as a last name, of well known poet and thinker, Adrienne Rich, profiled here by Chicago's own Poetry Foundation. 

Among the topics that Rich addressed across her oeuvre (aka body of works) are motherhood, sexuality, feminism, and education. It is the latter that is relevant for us today. In 1973/74, for example, she wrote as essay entitled "The Woman Centered University", available here. In 1978, she wrote "Taking Women Students Seriously" parts of which are available here.

Here are some of her words from her essay "Claiming an Education," a 1977 piece, originally given as a Convocation address at Douglass College (altered by the addition in the brackets):

       Ths first thing I want to say to you who are students, is that you cannot afford to think of being here to receive an education; you will do much better to think of yourselves as being here to claim one. One of the dictionary definitions of the verb "to claim" is: to take as the rightful owner; to assert in the face of possible contradiction." "To receive" is to come into possession of; to act as receptacle or container for; to accept as authoritative or true." The difference is that between acting and being acted-upon, and for women [and men] it can literally mean the difference between life and death. (Adrienne Rich, On Lies, Secrets, and Silence, New York: W.W. Norton, 1979, p. 231; also available here) 

So: do you think that adding the "and men" is apt? Is this still relevant advice? 

I think it is relevant advice for all of us, though what makes it difficult for each of us to claim our education is shaped by our social circumstances. It is, as Rich pointed out decades ago, difficult to claim an education if one is at risk physically in some settings (is a late library night putting you at rick of rape, for example?)  -- or if one cannot afford education -- or if the presumptions of those around you are that you are not smart enough or capable enough to be educated? 

How might we better claim an education? Do you claim yours? How? 

Not Shimer, Not No How!

Ok, the phrase " Not nobody. Not nohow" somehow reaks of bad grammar Yes it does. The allusion, though, is to Wizard of Oz. Here's the quotation in its context (thanks to this site for the help) :

Dorothy: Your Majesty, if you were king, you wouldn't be afraid of anything? 
Cowardly Lion: Not nobody! Not nohow! 
Tin Woodsman: Not even a rhinoceros? 
Cowardly Lion: Imposerous! 
Dorothy: How about a hippopotamus? 
Cowardly Lion: Why, I'd thrash him from top to bottomus! 
Dorothy: Supposing you met an elephant? 
Cowardly Lion: I'd wrap him up in cellophane! 
Scarecrow: What if it were a brontosaurus? 
Cowardly Lion: I'd show him who was king of the forest! 

But, that is not the quotation I had in mind for today, one that dates to the very first year of this century. It comes from the Chronicle of Higher Education, September 14, 2001, “A BATTLE PLAN FOR PROFESSORS TO RECAPTURE THE CURRICULUM” CHRONICLE B7: 

“As we enter the new century, society’s agreement on what defines an educated person, what constitutes essential knowledge and common discourse, has essentially collapsed. As a result, universities in the United States have a problem in the area of curriculum that has been widely recognized. Curriculum means, literally, a running track, but, in recent years, it has been called ‘a cafeteria with little indication of which are entrees and which the desserts” and “Dante’s definition of hell, where nothing connects to nothing.” (b7)

Do you agree? NOT Shimer, no how? 

A Bit of Visual History

Many of you may know this picture, shared by Sharon Welton, of the Campbell Center, located near the same site where she took my picture during a recent visit to Mount Carroll: 

Yes, It is True OR, Waldo in Mount Carroll

As commenters let us know, the photograph on the earlier entry came from a recent trip I took to Mount Carroll, Illinois, to the original campus of Shimer College. It was a February day, and the drive was lovely. I was amazed at how much of Upstate New York, I discovered as I drove -- in the form of town names -- Oswego, Illinois (linked in my mind to Oswego, NY), Albany, Illinois (linked in my mind to. . . Albany, NY), Geneseo, Il (yes, Geneseo, NY). You get my drift. It was not only the names of towns, though. It was also the architecture and the landscape, with its flatness (on the one hand) and rolling (perhaps glacial?) hills (on the other hand). When I arrived in Mount Carroll, I was a bit early for an appointment, so I drifted into the town, saw the buildings and thought about upstate NY some more. 

Among my experiences: I visited all the buildings, and saw, for example, the restored president's house, hoods once used for science classes, and residence halls. I had a wonderful conversation with the current director of the Campbell Center for Historic Preservation Studies, about both the work done there (in conservation, collection care, etcetera) and about Frances Wood Shimer. I learned of American chesnut trees and more. Later, I ate sauerkraut pizza (which I actually liked) and learned more. The campus -- like today's Shimer -- spoke loudly to me of community and intellectual virtue. And, I admit it, the campus spoke to me of the many ways that circumstances change institutions, and why we face our future in Chicago. I recognized the love alums (and others) from the Mount Carroll era have for that campus -- and left view books to remind those who visit that Shimer continues in Chicago. As importantly, those view books remind us that today's Shimer is continuous with Mount Carroll's as it offers intellectual challenge and growth, as well as communitiy across generations, to today's students. 

To say this another way, my reflections on upstate NY and Mount Carroll's environs remind us that the story of Shimer -- the story of Frances Wood and Cinderella Gregory -- began elsewhere. It is a story that is rooted in a journey -- from one place to another. While the pilgrimage to Mount Carroll is important, as a trip to Geneva, NY (yes, there is a Geneva, Illinois) where Cinderella died might be a pilgrimage, pilgrimages and nostalgia are not all that Shimer is about. While we are about heritage and history, we are also about the future or, more importantly, our future and the future of today's and tomorrow's Shimerians. Our journey from upstate NY to Mount Carroll to Waukegan to Chicago reminds us, I hope, of the journey that is education. 

For those who commented wondering about the reasons for the trip: to know Shimer is, of course, in part to listen to all of you -- and to learn about the Shimers that constitute today's Shimer. One of those is constituted by those who were and are devoted to Mount Carroll. (Waukegan will have to wait for another trip!) Working together with that Shimer in many ways is a key to our future -- perhaps funding a scholarship in honor of our Mount Carroll years would one way that those of you devoted to the campus can ensure that the spirit of that beautiful rural area remains alive for in today's Shimerians. 

Meanwhile, I promised more pictures. Here are a few: (and it is not my desire for these to be sideways, but I have lost patience and you get what you get!) -- and the person pictured is the Executive Director of the Campbell Center: Sharon Welton. 

Where's Waldo? No, Where's Shimer's Prez

So, I recently took a trip to various places. Below is a picture from the trip. If someone -- anyone -- in the comments correctly identifies the locale, I will write a blog entry reflecting on the experience? And, I will include more pictures! Here you go: 

 

Are You Slow?

At the start of the 2012/2013 academic year, the Dean of Shimer College, Barbara Stone, focused on the ways busy-ness shapes us in her convocation talk. It was a delightful, wry, and deeply important talk. It reminded listeners to ask the following question about higher education: are we better off if we "get through it" more quickly? It reminded us to ask about the value of pausing, of slowness, even, perhaps, of dawdling. I return to those themes today, because I am in need of a reminder that busy-ness is not everything. In fact, it is not much, in the great scheme of things. And, perhaps more importantly, education is a process embedded in time. 

A mentor of mine, Peggy Williams, Emerita President of Ithaca College and Lyndon State College, sent me a book some years ago which speaks to this theme.  The book is entitled In Praise of Slowness: Challenging the Cult of Speed. The author, Carl Honore, writes about slow food, slow cities, and, what surprised me at the time I first read it, slow education. While many of us are familiar with the first of these, a movement that began in Italy and now has "chapters" across the globe, the section on slow education may be less familiar. And yet, it is so obvious once one thinks about it. There is, in fact, a slow movement in many arenas of life, resisting the ways speeding up seems so obviously crucial to all of who we are. Why is becoming educated in less time better than taking more time? Why are we rushing? What happens to how we learn if we take our time? 

While the slow education movement seems to focus a bit on kids, the possibilities are much wider. For example, we often meausre the efficacy of colleges and universities by focusing on what percentage complete in 4 years. Of course, this is really about seeing if colleges and universities are fulfilling their promises to enable completion in that time. Having said that, as we face economic challenges, some universities are approaching the future with an eye to the 3 year undergraduate degree. Is a speedier degree a better degree? 

Thought about another way, the word pause is relevant. In this case, the fear of "gap years" and the fear of stepping out of school may be as relevant as the need to pause and consider one's reading and writing, problem solving and dialogue as one pursues a college degree. Here are some words of wisdom from Sharon Parks,  The Critical Years: Young Adults and the Search for Meaning, Faith and Commitment (San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1986):

    The modern academy had its genesis in the contemplative monastic tradition, but we have in large     measure lost the essence of our heritage through our inattention to the power of pause. Though     pause is essential to insight, the structure of the academy offers little time for contemplation.     Congested urban campuses, lockstep class schedules, mass-feeding dining halls, crowded     dormitories with little private space, interminable committee meetings and office appointments,     competition for grades, pressures for ‘excellence’ in research and teaching evaluated by the requisite     amount of publication – all conspire to erode the quality of contemplation essential to the     achievement of wisdom. Though the academy engenders a good deal of conscious conflict, it often     fails to allow the pause so necessary to the gestation of new images and insight. . . (pp. 145-146)

Words like slow and pause, as for me the word Shimer, remind us that thinking well is not always about thinking  now, this moment, immediately, and as quickly as possible. It is also about stopping and reflecting. 

PS: If you are in Chicago, here is the local slow food convivium. And, if you are in education, here is a website that Carl Honore recommends on the topic of slow education. 

PPS After this was written, but before it was published, a blog on Inside Higher Education published this on a related topic. Great minds. . . Great blogs. . . Great schools. . . .