Columbia Spectator News

2011-12 in Review: A more responsible campus dialogue

Editorial Board — Wed, 31 Dec 1969 19:00:00 EST

Updated:

May 7, 2012 (All day)

This article is part of a special issue looking back at the 2011-12 academic year. Read the rest of the issue here.

Speech is protected at Columbia. As an institution with a penchant for activism, we take freedom of expression seriously. Having the unquestionable right to voice our opinions, though, does not mean we are absolved from thinking about how we do so. Over the course of the semester, a parade of scandals and controversies has only reinforced the fact that rhetoric is a powerful force on campus, and that students, faculty, and administrators could be better at using it properly.

It is often acknowledged that words hold a great deal of power, and when they are not chosen carefully and deliberately, this power is easily abused. With ever-advancing technology and social media capability, finding an audience with our words is becoming increasingly easy—which is exactly why we need to take more responsibility for what we say. From the language that surfaced after Obamanard to the anonymous comment sections of Bwog and Spectator that have gotten so much attention, inflamed rhetoric has become a serious issue on campus. Provoking a campus-wide onslaught of tension and furor is as easy as submitting a nameless comment, but rising above this war of words is just as easy. If we take more consideration for our speech—even if we are not held accountable for it—our campus will become a more unified, calmer community.

Accountability—for both words and action—is another major issue, and something that transcends the student body and extends to faculty and the administration. Rhetoric from top administrators at the University is often empty, insincere, vague, or just plain unhelpful. From President Spar’s bungling of Obamanard to President Bollinger’s inconclusive statements following the GS Class Day fiasco, administrators do not provide us with strong statements that they are willing to stand behind. Instead, they give politically correct, safe, guarded statements on crucial events. When shocking events such as the NYPD surveillance of the Muslim Students Association or student deaths shake campus, we need a unified, powerful voice from our administrators.

The silver lining to the dangers of rhetoric is transparency. With more transparency, our campus will move toward a culture where information is readily available and, more importantly, valued. From a more transparent dean selection process to open course evaluations, exposure to information only elevates the power and importance of words. These words can be used for positive progress: better class selection, stronger relationships with our deans and administrators, better connections with our class councils, and less miscommunication overall. A push toward transparency is a push in the right direction.

When we choose our expressions carefully, stand accountable for our words, and use our speech to engage positively, we will be able to avoid the roadblocks we ran into this semester. Through responsible and transparent free expression, our campus will mature and prosper.

Signed,
The Editorial Board
Maggie Alden
Hannah D’Apice
Sarah Darville
Richard Falk-Wallace
Andrea Garcia-Vargas
Simon Gregory Jerome
Marcela Johnson
Leo Schwartz
Robin Simpson-McKay
Virgilio Urbina Lazardi
Lanbo Zhang

Read the rest of the issue here.

2011-12 in Review: On Columbia College

Carlos Alonso — Wed, 31 Dec 1969 19:00:00 EST

Updated:

May 7, 2012 (All day)

This article is part of a special issue looking back at the 2011-12 academic year. Read the rest of the issue here.

Senior faculty taught introductory classes, not to mention the Core. Professors were connected to the lives of students in a real and meaningful way, perhaps even at a cost to their own studies and leisure.
—“An open letter to the faculty,” Samuel E. Roth, CC ’12, former editor in chief

The guarantee that Columbia College will continue to be a signal constituent of Columbia’s reputation does not lie in demanding that Columbia College become or remain autonomous from the rest of Arts and Sciences or the University.
—“Teaching and research at Columbia,” Carlos Alonso, GSAS dean

Columbia should not stop trying to maintain its position as one of the world’s great research universities, which means that it must continue to reward professors, or at least a lot of them, on the basis of their scholarship. Restoring teaching to equal importance probably requires the creation of another, parallel faculty, people who are hired and rewarded on the basis of their pedagogy.
—“The academic dilemma,” William Deresiewicz, author of “The Disadvantages of an Elite Education”

Until the position of dean of Columbia College is no longer merely a dean of students; until the dean of the College is an authentic dean of the faculty, with a significant role in the hiring and promotion of faculty, in capital budget deliberations, and in the various committees that govern the Faculty of Arts and Sciences; until the dean of the College is incorporated fully into the leadership of the Faculty of Arts and Sciences, the identity and autonomy of the College will continue to erode.
—“No to the siren song aimed at Columbia College,” José A. Cabranes, United States Court of Appeals Judge for the Second Circuit, University trustee, CC ’61

Whereas a body such as the Faculty of Columbia College had undergraduate education as a primary interest, FAS subsumed it as one of many concerns on a busy agenda. Effectively, the faculties of the individual schools lost their platforms for discussing the issues exclusively pertinent to them—one of which was undergraduate education.
—“Activating faculty activism,” the Editorial Board

2011-12 in Review: On academics and the Core

Editorial Board — Wed, 31 Dec 1969 19:00:00 EST

Updated:

May 7, 2012 (All day)

This article is part of a special issue looking back at the 2011-12 academic year. Read the rest of the issue here.

If the Core Curriculum is to achieve its goal of helping students “understand the civilization of our own day and participate effectively in it,” it must take science seriously. The science requirement demands the same focus that is the strength of the rest of the Core Curriculum, and Columbia should begin by requiring an introductory course in probability and statistics for all students.
—“Numerically human,” Jacob Andreas, SEAS ’12

The Global Core should seek to provide a foundation in non-Western political thought parallel to Contemporary Civilization, laying a groundwork for an exploration of non-Western cultures and providing an alternative to Western thought, along with cultures that draw from the intersection of the West and the East. A class modeled after Asian Humanities is readily available and would provide that groundwork.
—“Extending our Core,” the editorial board

The essential point is that faculty should measure up to genuine public standards, not just exhibit popular appeal, and in academia the public standard should be educational—neither just academic in the research sense nor grandstanding before a popular audience.
—“An active faculty,” William Theodore de Bary, John Mitchell Mason Professor of the University, CC ’41

Even the most erudite and long-serving professor will not be an expert in all domains of the Core syllabus. Instead, what often makes these classes successful—and I have heard this from both students and faculty—is the more collaborative approach the colossal scope of the readings invites, the shared discovery that results.
—“A crisis of values,” Roderick Cooke, Ph.D. candidate in French and romance philology

Read the rest of the issue here.

2011-12 in Review: On the administration

Aki Terasaki — Wed, 31 Dec 1969 19:00:00 EST

Updated:

May 7, 2012 (All day)

This article is part of a special issue looking back at the 2011-12 academic year. Read the rest of the issue here.

Administrators should be doing everything to show that they care about student voices. While this oversight may have been unintentional, the lack of elected student representatives on the committee at such a complicated time for Columbia College contributes to the persistent and pernicious perception of an administration disconnected from the student body.
—“Add elected student representatives to search for dean,” Kenny Durell, CC ’12 and University Senator, Alex Frouman, CC ’12 and University Senator, Aki Terasaki, CC ’12 and CCSC president, Barry Weinberg, CC ’12 and SGB chair

Having a strong provost is in the best interests of the faculty and students, ensuring that their concerns are taken into consideration by top administrators. Given the undefined and shifting roles of the president, provost, and senior executive vice president, there is huge potential for Coatsworth to shape his office in the coming years.
—“John Coatsworth must shape the role of Columbia’s provost,” the editorial board

The resignation of former Dean Moody-Adams offers the opportunity to reflect on the conflicting priorities of our university and on the possible need to modify our values as members of Columbia’s educational community. The fate of our alma mater depends on collaboration and constructive criticism that fosters deliberation and a free exchange of ideas.
—“The institutional dilemma,” Alheli Alvarado-Diaz, Core lecturer for Contemporary Civilization

The nebulous dynamic between students and the administration … results in this apparently unnavigable network of bureaucracies that takes persistence of the highest degree to tackle.
—“Reflection on a staircase,” Maren Killackey, CC ’15

Instead of taking immediate and drastic action—like firing Peña-Mora—the University should discuss these issues as a community. The grievances should be aired and debated publicly, and the University should come to a consensus as to what course of action is best for SEAS and Columbia as a whole.
—“Turbulent SEAS,” the editorial board

Correction: An earlier version of this story incorrectly referred to Barry Weinberg's title. Spectator regrets the error.
Read the rest of the issue here.

2011-12 in Review: On socioeconomic and racial inequality

Andrea Viejo — Wed, 31 Dec 1969 19:00:00 EST

Updated:

May 7, 2012 (All day)

This article is part of a special issue looking back at the 2011-12 academic year. Read the rest of the issue here.

Think about the percentage of Mexicans, Jordanians, Moroccans, or Chileans who could ever hope to study here. They are mostly the people who didn’t have to escape Palestinian refugee camps, fight in Rio’s favelas, or march alongside student protesters in Egypt. Instead, they grew up in the global 1 percent, interacting in academic programs abroad, similar school systems, summer vacations, or boarding schools.
—“The global 1 percent,” Andrea Viejo, CC ’15, opinion columnist

In a society that systematically denies the presence and importance of traditionally marginalized communities—in history textbooks, federal government, and top CEO positions—our women and colored faculty mentors were living proof that people from our backgrounds could find success in the academy.
—“In favor of Columbia’s diversity initiatives,” Jennifer Alzate, CC ’13, Michelle Rosales, CC ’12, Nataly Sauceda, CC ’12, Devyn Tyler, CC ’13, and Daniel Valella, CC ’12, Mellon Mays undergraduate fellows

By refusing to see meritocracy for what it is—a system that favors whites—we fail to understand why some people are not eager to change it. It enables exclusion of certain groups while trivializing racial disparities as the fault of minority citizens alone.
—“Who deserves what?” Jelani Harvey, CC ’12

The college application about "the time I worked 30 hours a week at Wendy’s" doesn’t have quite the same ring as "the time I discovered poverty in Uganda on vacay and made a documentary film about it." This inherently discriminatory practice serves to stymie campus diversity.
—“Skin-deep diversity,” Andrew Godinich, CC ’13, opinion columnist

2011-12 in Review: On wellness

Anonymous — Wed, 31 Dec 1969 19:00:00 EST

Updated:

May 7, 2012 (All day)

This article is part of a special issue looking back at the 2011-12 academic year. Read the rest of the issue here.

Although my self-mutilation problem happened roughly seven years ago, it affects how I interact with people even to this day. For me, the most important thing that one can do to help someone with a mental health issue is offer love and support to that person, and not judge him or look down on him.
—“Healing the mind, healing the body,” Anonymous

To help relieve the stigma of mental health and illness, we need to educate ourselves about mental disorders—what they are and how they can be treated. While it is probably the hardest to combat, stigma is the largest and most serious factor preventing people from seeking help.
—“Accessing mental health resources,” Jessica Greenberg, CC ’12, and Elizabeth Munroe, CC ’12, co-presidents of Columbia Neuroscience Society

Nightline acts as a safety net to catch some who may slip through the cracks. This is not always the case: Sometimes you just need a fresh ear, a third-party listener, because your friends have already heard your story a million times over.
—“Coming out,” Sarah Ngu, CC ’12 and former Barnard/Columbia Nightline peer counselor

Talk to people. Smile. Say hi. Be honest with yourself and others. Reach out when you need it. Demand the most of your time here, and give it all you’ve got. Find a way (amid the readings, papers, problem sets, and meetings) to keep yourself whole, because not only does Columbia deserve you whole, you deserve you whole.
—“Your community deserves you whole,” Erik Nook, CC ’12 and coordinator of Columbia Stressbusters

Ultimately, Columbia is not to blame for all of this. Columbia is a tool that we might bend to our ends. Yes, it is an institution with its own unique dysfunctions and it can help to create a more or less well environment. But in the end, the majority of unwellness in our lives comes from ourselves.
—“Love the life you live,” Mark Hay, CC ’12, opinion columnist and coordinator of the Student Wellness Project

Read the rest of the issue here.

2011-12 in Review: Editorial and Opinion

Andrea Garcia-Vargas — Wed, 31 Dec 1969 19:00:00 EST

Updated:

May 7, 2012 (All day)

This article is part of a special issue looking back at the 2011-12 academic year. Read the rest of the issue here.

Academics and the Core

The Administration

Columbia College

Socioeconomic and Racial Inequality

Wellness

"A more responsible campus dialogue," by the Editorial Board

Activating faculty activism

Editorial Board — Wed, 31 Dec 1969 19:00:00 EST

In a year that has been plagued by turmoil over administrative decision-making, one of the recurring themes has been a constant lack of faculty input in decisions that have far-reaching consequences for undergraduate education. At a time when Columbia College’s relationship with the Faculty of Arts and Sciences is evolving, the faculty voice has been underrepresented and disproportionately weak. Save for a handful of dedicated and usually tenured professors, the faculty remains quiet and relatively uninvolved in public with issues of undergraduate academic importance.

The faculty voice is especially important to campus discussions. Members of the faculty directly interact with students and understand their interests more acutely than does the administration. More importantly, while undergraduates are only here in four-year increments, the faculty remains at the University for a longer time, making it much more capable of influencing long-term change. To have faculty involved in undergraduate academic issues means a more thorough debate with the administration and, ultimately, a stronger representation of student views.

Although this issue has been highlighted in the past year, its roots extend to the earlier part of the 1990s, when the Faculty of Arts and Sciences was created to merge the faculties of Columbia College, the School of General Studies, the Graduate School of Arts and Sciences, the School of International and Public Affairs, and the School of the Arts. Key decisions that had been reserved by the faculties of the individual schools—in areas such as admissions, financial aid, programs of study, conditions for graduation, grading, honors, examinations, and instruction—were transferred to the larger FAS body.

While merging the individual faculties into one FAS body undoubtedly has had its benefits, especially in non-academic decision-making, the structure of the combined body has led to a decrease in faculty participation in academic issues. The very nature of a body designed to integrate interests common to the combined Arts and Sciences faculty influences the agenda in a way that leads the focus away from undergraduate academic concerns. Whereas a body such as the Faculty of Columbia College had undergraduate education as a primary interest, FAS subsumed it as one of many concerns on a busy agenda. Effectively, the faculties of the individual schools lost their platforms for discussing the issues exclusively pertinent to them—one of which was undergraduate education.

The 1978 bylaws of the Faculty of Columbia College mandated that “meetings of the Faculty shall be held at 3:10 p.m., on the third Monday of every month from October to May inclusive.” Senior professors who still remember those meetings recall that they were primarily spent discussing academic issues. When Columbia College faculty was subsumed under FAS, the meetings grew less frequent and more sparsely attended by faculty, and understandably so.

Columbia College faculty meetings used to be devoted to undergraduate issues, but FAS now has to cover a wider array of topics. When it met to vote on the inclusion of Frontiers of Science, for example, the entire FAS was allowed to vote on the decision, even though many of its members did not teach undergraduates or adequately understand the Core Curriculum.

Within the current structure of FAS, there is an effort to create a forum to recreate these discussions in particular committees. For example, the Policy and Planning Committee recently announced the formation of the Educational Policy and Planning Committee, composed of faculty and administrators with the intent of advising Executive Vice President for Arts and Sciences Nicholas Dirks on academic issues such as global centers and the Core Curriculum. On top of the standing committees on the Core and Instruction and some of the vague academic policy powers of the University Senate, there are some efforts to create the institutional framework to foster faculty activism. Yet the committee system, as it stands, is difficult to navigate, because the roles of each are unclear to faculty.

All of these committees would be confusing enough if it weren’t for the recent turmoil that FAS has recently undergone with the instability of provosts and the CC dean. On top of the confusing network of committees with seemingly overlapping jurisdictions, the committees have recently seen substantial changes. At the same time, meetings of the entire FAS faculty have grown more infrequent.

The problem goes deeper than just infrequent meetings, though—many professors don’t attend faculty meetings, or don’t participate vocally in the meetings when they go. According to a number of professors, this is because there doesn’t appear to be a clear outlet for faculty to voice particular undergraduate concerns. Robert Pollack, a Frontiers lecturer and professor of biological sciences, said that faculty meetings need to be reconfigured so that they have a clear agenda. Without an agenda, the roles of each of the different committees are not fully realized or understood.

At the recent town hall on the Columbia College dean selection, both Chair of Literature Humanities Christia Mercer and Slavic languages professor Cathy Popkin articulated that while faculty have a great deal of opinions, they don’t know where to take them. If the various committees had their intent, aims, and scope fully communicated, then faculty would hopefully feel more included and willing to participate. Ultimately, according to Mercer, “If faculty were being listened to, more would be involved. If faculty voices could be heard more easily, then we would hear more of them. I also think that more faculty governance would change the culture of faculty, create a greater sense of belonging.”

For faculty voices to be heard, professors need to see that advisory committees are influencing administrative decision-making. Furthermore, existing committees must clearly delineate their advisory scope and extend membership to dedicated and knowledgeable professors. We find it hard to believe that diminished faculty activism is a result of apathy. Passionate and interested professors surely still exist, but they need to regain forums to discuss issues relevant to undergraduate education.

FAS is important for larger, more universal faculty concerns such as benefits and housing, which are crucial to recruiting and maintaining top-notch professors. The committees are important for addressing more specific undergraduate academic issues, and with greater clarity to their role and agenda, the committees can begin to function more as an outlet for faculty to be heard. If faculty activism increases, the strength of the undergraduate education will only be cemented and augmented. In the end, though, our faculty members needs to feel like they’re being heard—only then will they speak loudly and clearly.

Coming out

Sarah Ngu — Wed, 31 Dec 1969 19:00:00 EST

I am lying on the floor, my right hand holding the phone to my ear, my left holding a pen. This is how I like to take my calls. For the past four years here at Columbia, I’ve worked as an anonymous Nightline peer counselor, working shifts from 10 p.m. to three a.m. Last night was my last shift, so now that I’m “out,” I want to use this opportunity to demystify Nightline, Columbia/Barnard’s only peer counseling hotline, and share my story for the first time.

Callers call and talk. We listen, validate, and provide referrals to more long-term sources. Both the caller and counselor remain anonymous, but for a brief time, an intense connection usually forms. Anonymity is certainly double-edged—as a writer for Bwog, I experience its nasty edge, and as a Nightline peer counselor, I find its redemptive edge, for students are freed to open up completely.

But even though I often hang up the phone happy to have helped someone get through the night, it saddens me that one of the reasons students call is because they don’t feel comfortable turning to anyone else. Nightline acts as a safety net to catch some who may slip through the cracks. This is not always the case: Sometimes you just need a fresh ear, a third-party listener, because your friends have already heard your story a million times over.

Nightline counselors all share a commitment to help, but for me, the intimate, anonymous exchange of taking a call holds a special pleasure. It is akin to novel-reading. It provides a window into a stranger’s life and reminds me, when I walk down College Walk, that although we hold unique differences, we are much the same, nursing many of the same insecurities and hopes. It humanizes the campus for me.

I joined Nightline my freshman year, surprised to find it one of the most selective groups on campus. There is a semester-long training process, chock-full of expert-led workshops and role-plays, all of which take up around four hours a week, culminating in a certification test (a phone role-play with three evaluators), which I was more nervous for than I was for any of my finals. I failed the test and went through re-training for another few months before finally becoming certified.

Besides teaching me how to persist after failure, Nightline has also taught me to become more comfortable with acknowledging need and getting help. It’s ironic, but I grew up with a slight stigma against getting therapy as I saw it as mainly for “other people.” A counselor called me out on it while I was training, and I realized I had fallen into the trap of the savior-complex that many well-intentioned people, from psychologists to development experts, often have. We become blind to our own vulnerabilities.

My perspective on my work as a counselor has shifted from when I first started. I listen, probe, and validate a lot more, and try to problem-solve a lot less. Once in a while, I’ll make an insightful connection or point out a possible solution, but for the most part, I walk alongside the caller, nodding along. There is a lot of power in that. Underneath each caller’s story are countless unvoiced questions: “Is it okay to feel this way? Is this normal? Do you understand?” And I respond, without saying exactly so, “Yes, yes, and yes again.”

Nightline has been a bit of a refuge in that I’m just a happy member of it—I hold no title or leadership position, unlike my other activities. The difficulty with Nightline is that while it can be an invaluable resource, it’s hard to publicize while you’re an anonymous member, which is why I’m writing this. It can take a lot of admirable courage to call, but it can also take very little courage, for the issues range from the serious to the mundane. There are always outlets for anonymous venting—private journals, blogs, etc. But sometimes it helps to have another human on the other end of the line.

The author is a Columbia College senior concentrating in political science and American studies. She was the president of the Veritas Forum and is a resident adviser. She was a Barnard/Columbia Nightline peer counselor from spring 2009 until April 30, 3 a.m.

Communicating human

Jourdan Sayers — Wed, 31 Dec 1969 19:00:00 EST

Human rights started as a selfish endeavor for me. I’m half-black. I’m a woman. I’m gay. I lack certain rights in certain places, and initially, that angered me into mobilization, into pursuing the study of human rights at Columbia. I want more for myself and for others like me, and the more I study, the more I realize the difficulty of such a task. I used to think eliminating social injustice and human rights violations was as simple as earning a degree, getting a job, and marching around implementing common-sense policies. I had this image of myself and my classmates strapping on our injustice-fighting power suits and taking on obvious problems with tremendous success. But then I encountered this thing called reality. Human rights issues are much more pervasive than I had previously thought. Their roots are ingrained in the ways we think, talk, and teach. They reveal themselves in casual statements, they stand strong in common thoughts, and we pass them along in everyday interactions. Fighting these forces takes a hell of a lot more than a naïve first-year and her ideals.

What if these problems aren’t actually obvious? Sure, anyone who sees, or even reads about, the human rights violations that occur in countless Latin American prisons can acknowledge that the living conditions within them are less than optimal, and none of us desire even a day in the life of a homeless New Yorker, but what are the actual problems here? At first glance, the problems are that Latin American prisons do not provide safe conditions and that the homeless person has nowhere to live, but I’ve realized that the problems are more deeply rooted in the failed exchange of ideas, and addressing that is not as simple as rebuilding prisons or giving someone your coat.

But don’t think I’m a pessimist.

I believe that open discussion is a viable solution to understanding the mindsets that lead to human rights violations and their far-too-often-unchallenged continuations. Improving our methods of discourse will teach us how to chip away at the stubborn thoughts that contribute to injustice in order to create an atmosphere in which positive change is possible. Columbia is, hypothetically, the ideal place to foster this type of communication. As a first-year, I’ve made friends from Mexico, England, Nigeria, the Dominican Republic, France, Puerto Rico, Botswana, Samoa—you name it. I attend discussions through various human rights and social justice-related groups and am amazed by the variety of people with whom I have the privilege of interacting. Columbia is truly a magical place—if you make a concerted effort to take advantage of it.

The people who will actually make this effort are the people who already share the ideas promoted at the discussions in question. Black Students’ Organization is, quite obviously, largely attended by black students. Columbia Queer Association’s membership is composed of members of the LGBTQA community. Columbia University Students for Human Rights is full of students who care about human rights. This is not to say that there is not something special about gathering with a group of like-minded people and sharing experiences, opportunities, and support, but too often, I attend an event and hear Person 1 talk to Person 2 about the viewpoint they both share with Person 3 (as well as everyone else in the room) and that maybe slightly, in some nuanced way, varies from Person 4’s opinion.

I want to see open discussion that is actually open. I want the racially biased at BSO, the heteronormative thinkers at CQA, and the people who think they don’t give a damn at CUSHR. When it comes down to it, human rights are about banding together. Examining the Columbia student body, we find students of myriad passions, disciplines, backgrounds, identities, and experiences, and, through joining forces, we have real power. Face the ideas you disagree with and confront things that are foreign to you, truthfully examine your beliefs, and share them with people who don’t think exactly like you, and maybe we can begin to effect change.

The author is a Columbia College first-year. She is on the Varsity women’s soccer team and is a member of Columbia University Students for Human Rights.