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A School’s Responsibility

A School’s Responsibility

There is nothing as sad as the suicide of a student.  There is the feeling of remorse of the entire university community, for one, on top of the morbid calculation of suicide rates that complements any discussion of the “toughness” of a school–be it MIT, Cornell, or the University of Chicago.  There is the irreconcilable feeling of loss that accompanies the death of any student, not knowing who he might have become, or what might have been.  But most of all, there is the feeling of guilt, that someone, somewhere, should have seen that this young adult was in trouble, and no one did anything to stop it.

I have no doubt that in the next couple of days at the University of Chicago, many condolences will be uttered and these feelings of guilt, of sadness, will come out into the open.  Students and faculty alike will mourn the passing of this student, as they have for the death of students in the past.  It is with great sorrow that we remember the life so painfully cut short by its own hand.  And, of course, the questions will be asked, tenderly at first, but then more firmly, as people demand to know why this student did not receive the help he needed, and to what extent the University is responsible.

Of course, it is not the Administration’s fault that this tragedy occurred; nor should any student, parent or community member try to point the finger of blame on anyone.  But the questions should be asked, because they are necessary to prevent further such tragedies.  They are necessary to spare the suffering of countless students and parents and teachers, friends and family and colleagues.  What can the University of Chicago do to see that students in trouble receive the help they need?  What can students do if they notice that a friend is in trouble?  How available are school resources, such as the school psychologist and advising services, when they are most needed?

These questions are important, because they go to the core principle of what the University represents.  In English common law, the University is of the tradition in loco parentis, or “in the place of a parent.”  It is the job of the University to represent a parent, and to provide for the students under its wing with the care, support, and encouragement.  It is true that the institution has not been a curfew-bearing, strict disciplinarian since the 60’s, but the University is still supposed the place where children become adults, where they are nurtured to their full potential under a transitionary parental guidance.  The University has a role to guide its students on the right path to adulthood.

When a student cuts his own life short, while partaking in the University system and interacting with the community, in a community of friends and professors who share his love of education and are kin in the life of the mind, it is a sad day indeed for the University whose responsibility it was to see to it that his upbringing reached a full fruition.  It is not a question of fault, nor of blame; it is a question of responsibility.

Suicide, as Durkheim liked to say, reflected the happiness of any society.  More suicides meant a society was less happy.  Why else would someone take their own life, unless death were a preferable option to living?  However, there is obviously more to the complicated pathos of a suicide, and we cannot understand what drove this poor student to take his own life.  The University of Chicago is not an unhappy community–nor does the University wish its students unhappiness.  But it appears that the failure on the part of the University was not in neglecting the happiness of one of its flock, but in failing to actively increase happiness for all.

As it stands right now, the philosophy of the University seems to be “You are independent, responsible adults–we are here for you if you need us, but we believe you to be on your own.”  It should be “We are responsible for you, the students.  Enjoy your independence, but always know that we are watching out for you.”

The former, current, attitude, the attitude of passiveness, is apparent in the advising system of the College, which “Requires” students to make a yearly appointment, yet does nothing to make sure the students seek out their own advisor.  It is apparent in the academic system, which has degree requirements but puts the onus on the student to find his or her own BA advisors and plan his or her own course schedule, including Core requirements essential to graduation.  It is apparent in the Career Advising and Planning Services (CAPS), which only offer real help, guidance, and employment opportunities if they are frequently requested to do so.  It is apparent in the housing system, which provides a safe haven but can be ignored completely for the entire year without any questions being asked.

A student with no drive or independence could clearly get lost in the network of bureaucracy of student services, and fail to graduate in four years without having the ability to ask the right questions, such as “What language requirement do I need?” or “How many classes do I need to take to major in biochemistry?”  Of course, the University of Chicago is largely absent of these non-driven, dependent students, with its high standards of admittance and the quality of the intellectual community.  However, even small gaps in basic services for competent students means much larger, gaping crevices for struggling ones.  Students who miss something, or students who aren’t always entirely on top of their game, can quickly find themselves frantically trying to keep their head above water, realizing too late, for example, that they cannot take a certain class pass fail or they have missed their opportunity to apply to a dream internship.

What does a student do when the University is clearly there for help when he reaches for it, but does not provide a safety net should he not be willing to seek help?

It is with great sadness, then, that we arrive to what seems to be one of an inevitable cycle of self-inflicted student tragedies.  It is with remorse that the University community will address this tragedy, but it is with determination that the community must push forward to improve its safety net, and take the role of in loco parentis that is its rightful duty.

June 28, 2008Comments are DisabledRead More
I’ve Been Robbed

I’ve Been Robbed

When I signed up to take the University of Chicago class Global Warming, with professor David Archer, I was not surprised when I went to buy the required readings for the course and found the main textbook priced at $50. I was also not surprised to find that the book, Global Warming: Understanding the Forecast, published by Blackwell, was written by Dr. Archer himself. After all, I have taken many classes which have, as part of their syllabi, works written by the instructor. However, I was unpleasantly surprised when I opened the textbook “for non-science major undergraduates” and discovered something: It was terrible.

The book Global Warming reads like a third grader wrote it. Interspersed with barely passable “scientific” charts are editorialized comments about dominoes, bricks, and how wonderful carbon is. Furthermore, the grammatical and stylistic mistakes made throughout have me convinced that not only is this published book at best a first draft, but no editor ever made it through reading it before press time.

“Stick with me and everything will all tie together in the end,” reads a sentence on page 42. Apparently the world is “bouncing around like Jell-O,” as I learned on page 54. At one point, I learn all about the author as I’m reading: “The 10-day forecast says showers the weekend after that, but no one believes the end of a 10-day forecast anyway. They’re better than they used to be, but 10 days is still something of a crap shoot. And here I am sitting down to write about forecasting the climate 100 years from now” (page 56).

“It takes time for the climate of the Earth to reache equilibrium” (page 135), apparently because we are in ye olde times. On page 62 there is chart of Foucault’s pendulum, with the labels “Dominoes are safe” and “Dominoes awaiting their doom” to illustrate how safe the proverbial “dominoes” are based on the pendulum’s location on the earth. On page 156 there is a chart with “Watch me tip over” written as a label on what is apparently supposed to be an ice shelf. On page 170 there is a chart “Lambchops vs. sheep” which apparently illustrates how the Tragedy of the Commons works. In another attempt to illustrate the complex principles of economics, the book explains: “If the economy grows by 5% each year, everyone gets rich and shoeshine boys trade stock tips” (page 176).

Photosynthesis is a “nifty trick,” the fact that biomolecules are hydrocarbons is “amazing stuff” (page 87), and my favorite: “One could imagine an extract-the-juice-from-a-popsicle-on-a-hot-day curve. The popsicle consumption rate starts off slowly a the beginning because the popsicle is too cold to eat, then at the very end you have to swallow the last half of the popsicle in one gulp to keep it from hitting the sidewalk” (page 104).

(I don’t care what the subject is, but the words “popsicle” and “gulp” should never be in any academic textbook.)

I could go on, but the list of corrections that need to be made to make this book academically passable would use up this entire piece. Suffice it to say that on the first page, when the author claimed “As I write, it is a crisp, clear Fall day,” I would not be surprised if the book was finished on that same day, and sent off to the publisher the next. It is a rough, terribly written, completely disorganized, shoddy first draft. Which begs the question, Why did I pay $50 for this book?

The answer is twofold. One, I am a non-science major in the College who, because of the core, has to take a sequence or equivalent in the Physical Sciences. For me, as well as 253 other people this Spring quarter, that means signing up for Global Warming.

Secondly, by signing up for any class, I have to buy (or otherwise obtain) the required readings. For me, that meant buying this book and another, Six Degrees (which I highly recommend for global warming enthusiasts). With the 10-day money back guarantee that Barnes & Noble offers, there’s not much of a chance I’m getting my money back.

But the fact that the book is so bad makes me wonder about what can only be described as a blatant conflict of interest. The professor of the course sits down to write a terrible book, charges $50 for it, and makes everyone who takes his class buy it. Every Spring quarter, if Dr. Archer made just 10% royalties on every book sold (which is a conservative estimate for an already published author), he makes $1,270. That’s about 2.5% of annual tuition. And with the “success” of this book, I’m sure he’s been offered an advance for his next book as well.

Like I said before, I’ve had plenty of professors assign books that they’ve written. I buy the books because they are integral to the course and the way the professor teaches it. Plus, they’ve always been good books. But I can’t imagine that Global Warming: Understanding the Forecast is the best book available on the subject, even if it is targeted to undergraduate non-science majors. And if there is a better textbook available, then the choice of the professor to assign his book over another does not serve the best interest of the students.

With the prices of books as high as they are, it is only fair for we students to demand only the best readings from the best authors. Global Warming is not only terribly written, it is dumbed down and insulting to me as a student. Science majors do not get dumbed-down versions of Marx and Smith to read for SOSC, so why should history and humanities majors get such books for science? Doesn’t it defeat the purpose of the core to provide a general education at a minimally intelligent level?

After finally being done with the science aspect of the core, I am left to wonder how many students in the past have been the victims of such blatant conflict of interest. Furthermore, I wonder how many thousands of dollars have been earned by faculty of the University of Chicago through underhanded attempts to secure unnecessary book profits from students, at the expense of their students’ education. I pay enough for tuition, living expenses, and books as it is: I shouldn’t need to watch my back for professors seeking to dupe me.

June 4, 2008Comments are DisabledRead More