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Previous articles in the Quadrangle
February 2006 Issue
Academics
by Emily Abeles
I
was never one to appreciate alumnae input when I was a student. Though it has been less than a year since my graduation, Hollins
constantly changes, and as such, my perspective comes with a comfortable distance.
Please be sure I greatly appreciate this forum and its creators; my comments, however, definitely lack insight into
Hollins' most current evolutions.
When I first heard about the possible revitalization
of The Quadrangle last year, I naturally wanted to write about what I was most passionate, academic life. On the subway home tonight, I started pondering my experience
in the classroom at Hollins and I was again drawn to the topic.
I once saw a course syllabus -- not
penned by a Hollins professor -- which offered students two methods of evaluation for the course. One grading system was deemed the "lone ranger" approach by the professor, and, as you might infer,
the requirements primarily involved independent papers and tests. The alternate
set of requirements included group research, projects, and presentations.
When I first encountered the syllabus as a sophomore, I thought this was a clever way of meeting (or, as
the case might have been, appeasing) various learning styles or student requests.
Over time, however, the notion of a "lone ranger" approach to education came back to me and I started to question its
feasibility, even in courses based solely on individual assessment. For my first
few semesters at Hollins I think I ascribed (albeit at times subconsciously) to the lone ranger approach to learning. I put the burden of understanding
content solely on my shoulders. Consequently, I didn't mind what my classmates said -- or didn't say -- in class.
I
feel this learning paradigm is deeply problematic on many levels, which I won't attempt to delve into here, yet I do want to share this: the thought which ultimately
became most pressing in my mind after seeing the syllabus was that the quality of my education at Hollins depended on my peers. This wasn't any startling realization. In
fact, if you had asked me as a first year if I agreed with the statement, I would have said "yes." The puzzling part of the equation, however, was that I also most likely would have said that if a peer
doesn't read or come to class, those decisions are hers alone to reconcile and shouldn't concern other students.
As I spent more
semesters at Hollins, I started thinking about how inherently connected my educational experience in a class was to the person sitting next to me (and the person
sitting next to her). If I didn't come to class prepared to discuss the
material, I wasn't just doing a disservice to myself; I was cheating everyone else in the class as well. And vice versa.
If our educational experiences are dependent upon
not only the work we put into our classes but also the quality of work our peers devote to our classes, then should we not
demand more of each other? Should we not demand more of ourselves? Even if for some unfathomable reason you don't think your education is worthy of the additional few hours
of research for a term paper, the extra 50 torturous pages of reading, or the third run-through of a class presentation, look
to your left and look to your right the next time you're sitting in Pleasants 203 and please realize that the students sitting
next to you are most definitely worth every extra minute you devote to your studies.
Perhaps the giant green and gold proverbial elephant in this room (I
must miss Hollins if I'm referencing green and gold) is the role of professors in our educational experiences. I'm going to ignore the elephant for now, except for one comment I can't resist: demand more. If we're
demanding more of ourselves and our peers, let's demand more of our professors as well.
We can only hope they will return the honor.
Safety In Numbers: Student Teacher Relationships
by Anonymous
What is the first gossip a new student at Hollins learns? Aside from the usual
NEFA-students-are-always-naked and LUG (lesbian until graduation) rumors, it is likely that a student's first exposure to
gossip will fall in the realm of teacher-student relationships. While movies, books and other cultural what-have-yous lead
us to believe in the inevitability of these relationships, the actual gossip often ruthlessly frames people in these relationships
as a either powerful or weak. Problems: students are pitted against each other, as judgments are placed on the student in
the relationship. Want to explore the murky depths of alienation on this campus? Date a professor in your department. For
all of our solidarity on campus, we are quick to judge, quick to gossip, and slow to do anything to protect one another.
Here is one typical response
to teacher-student rumors:
Student 1: So, Professor Humbert? Totally sleeping with Lolita. Student 2: Oh, are you sure? Student
1: Positive. (Note: lack of evidence) Student 2: Why? That's so gross. (Note: personal bias) Student 1: She thinks she can get published in her field that way. (Note: lack of evidence) Student 2: Maybe they like each other. Student 1: Maybe, but I doubt it.
(pause) I feel sorry for him. (Note: vague, useless pity for someone who is, more than likely,
protected by tenure)
These kinds of assumptions are loaded. Gender divisions of power are reinforced by the
rather boring notion that "men can't help themselves around sexy young ladies," which leads to assumptions about lack of impartiality
in the classroom (or in the field, in general). It also leaves out female professors, who are just as capable of crossing
professional boundaries as the males. Gossip and the gossipers start sounding robotically similar, repeating the same tired
stories and arguments. The gossiping students play the "At least I have integrity" card against the "beloved" student. The
student in question can now be debated and vilified for what may or may not be true. At best, a serious relationship is trivialized
by the community. At worst, a student becomes so emotionally disturbed by the relationship, and the community's reaction to
the relationship, that her comfort level at Hollins is damaged beyond repair.
Consider safety in numbers. Whether or not we approve of the relationship's existence, everyone in this
community needs to be concerned with how to best protect the student in situations like this. Certainly, given the lack of
strong policies regarding student-teacher relationships, we should take some responsibility as students to look out for one
another, even if this means just believing one another. The resolution that passed in October of 2004 at the Board of Trustees
meeting is weak-- it had to be to garner the support to pass. According to the information released on the Grapevine of that
month, teacher-student consensual relationships are prohibited "in circumstances of direct supervision. The full policy is available through the offices of academic affairs, student services, or human resources
and will be incorporated into student and faculty handbooks." If only that solved everything. Consider this: a student can
file a grievance against a faculty member, and maybe if there are enough grievances
over the course of so many years, maybe then a tenured professor will actually be in the hot seat. Or maybe
not. It takes a lot of courage to speak out when few people support you-- consider this in the context of filing a grievance,
especially if the professor is well-liked or respected on campus. That resolution? It might as well be Kleenex to cry on,
as it does little to address the complexities of guilt and blame in a tiny college community.
However, on the opposite end is the notion that all students who are in these relationships are victimized:
Student 1: Did you hear? Professor Rochester is totally manipulating sweet Jane Eyre. (Note: lack of hard evidence) Student 2: That's terrible. I'd believe that. He's so creepy, and he's always staring at me. (Note: fumbling for evidence) Student
1: Yeah, I think he really sees how vulnerable Jane is and works with that. It's disgusting. (Note:
two-dimensional characterization of Jane) Student 2: Totally. (pause) He's always staring
at me.
(Note:
Who is this really about?)
The two
examples are written to illustrate the preferred method of gossip, which is blaming someone, anyone. If such issues were either
right or wrong, we could nip this little problem of teacher-student relationships in the bud. Professors or students could
be put in some sort of time-out, given a warning, and automatically signed up for Match.com to find a more "harmonious" other
half. Historically at Hollins, however, it's been proven multiple times that these relationships sometimes transcend sexual
attraction and often move into our favorite sacred institutional contract marriage). Plot twist. Even in the most egalitarian
of situations, though, the interests of the student must be protected. If these relationships go horribly awry (and they have,
whether gossip informs you of this or not), can a tenured professor ever really be punished? What if the student is too scared
to file a grievance? What if she's called crazy, opportunistic, starved-for-affection, etc? At the very least, whether you
believe the stories you hear on campus or not, interpretations of these relationships show up in pop culture all the time,
creating its own reality.
This is something bigger than Hollins, and it reflects
our own attitudes and values. While cultivating a sense of right and wrong is usually a good thing, it is not the same as
developing compassion for your peers, for the people trying to grow in what should be a safe community.
In an ideal world, the only students who would date professors would do so outside of the classroom
(to remove fears of favoritism) and would never suffer any negative repercussions-- it would be just two people, drinking
one milkshake with two straws as "Stand By Me" plays in the background. But if these mountains should crumble into the sea,
know that at the very least, students have the right to file grievances, to speak out. More importantly, we have to believe
one another. We have to seek the truth, as ugly as it may be, rather than filter it to reflect society's petty power dynamics.
Next time a student speaks ill of another student for her relationship with a professor, take this opportunity to say, "I
am too emotionally invested in the well-being of everyone here to let this kind of talk continue." Or, "Watch it. I have her
back, and you should, too." Choose your own words, and construct your own sentences, and interrupt the gossip for a moment
of loyalty.
Retention At Hollins University
by Laura Smith
According to the National Center for Education
Statistics’ Data Feedback Report, Hollins has a 76% retention based on the past 2004-2005 academic school year. And,
according to PrincetonReview.com, the Hollins retention rate is lower than most all-women colleges on the East Coast (e.g.
Agnes-Scott, Sweet Briar, Randolph-Macon Woman’s, Bryn-Mawr, Mount Holyoke,
Smith, etc.). Why, one may ask, is retention such an issue at Hollins? Why do students transfer after a semester, or a year,
to other colleges? Is it simply the all-women’s environment, or is it something larger?
When trying to answer
my questions, I thought back to my freshmen year and how unhappy I was. I remember how my then-roommate (who later transferred),
my hall-mates, and I would discuss our problems with Hollins: often
referring to the discrepancy
in how Hollins portrayed herself to us when we were potential undergrads and the Hollins we found upon attempting to integrate
ourselves into campus life.
This discrepancy
can be seen in the marketing strategies of our University. The barrage of Hollins pamphlets one receives in the mail during
her senior year of high school show either: 1. happy undergraduates hugging one another (two white women and a token minority
of some sort), 2. a beautiful campus spread, or 3. a spunky tinker day picture. The website boasts of “12 Smart Reasons
to Chose Hollins,” with a beginning emphasis on the awards Hollins has received from Kaplan/Newsweek for the Equestrian
program and Princeton Review for being one of the “Best 361 Colleges” in the nation. It’s as if these bestowed
titles are enough to sell the school to those researching Hollins electronically. The renowned Creative Writing program isn’t
mentioned until #8, Art & Dance programs rank at #9, and the final bulleted incentive is “the women’s college
advantage.” But when one goes to the section dedicated to this point, it’s so informal that one feels as though
that by selling the whole women’s empowerment package, Hollins has in fact lost sight of
her uniqueness – the students’, faculty, classes’, and various organizations’ individuality.
When one projects a false package, it’s met with disappointment,
disillusionment, and ultimately, rejection. When I came to Hollins I was shocked by the campus’s overwhelmingly liberal
attitude towards administrative politics, racial issues, and the LGBTQ community. The Hollins that had been portrayed to me
on glossy postcards was of students lounging on front-quad, a student reading in the library, a student thoughtfully engaged
in a classroom discussion, a very safe portrayal of student life – there was no dissension shown here.
If the administration showed advertisements
of student empowerment (something they must simultaneously support and encourage), rather than silencing students who engage
in activist protests/projects (such as the Fall 2003 protest/ May Day protest of the Spring 2000, and even the Segregation
fliers of the Fall of 2005), prospective students would be intrigued by this show of commitment and believe that Hollins really
is a place where women find their voice and unabashedly take a stance on various issues. By silencing students, how are we
helping our retention numbers?
If Hollins spent more
time recruiting first-years with a genuine image of student life rather than relying on the word-of-mouth strengths of the
Creative Writing program and Equestrian team to increase their admission numbers, the retention rate would increase. A good
friend of mine said to me the other day, “I think the general idea is that English and horses are
what we do best, but that's
not all we do. The idea is that you have to bring in people with money, but I think if we project our community as being more
liberal we'd get more money. I'm saying this outside of my ideology-- I really do think it's an untapped market, considering
the current political climate of our country and its tensions.”
Media studies typically
show that college students are more liberal, so why isn’t Hollins banking on this fact? Why aren’t we issuing
advertisements and website stories about the acceptance one feels upon walking on campus? Why aren’t we talking about
the overwhelming support our campus and students show towards the LGBTQ community? Why aren’t we talking about how at
every college students are forced to question their beliefs, morals, political/religious/social ideologies, and re-evaluate
who they are as a person, but at Hollins this is done in a smaller, accepting environment where all those factors along with
the importance of questioning one’s sexuality and what that means to them, are encouraged both in and outside of the
classroom? Why aren’t we showing that one’s social life and one’s academic life collide through the organizations
we choose to get involved in, the way we present our ideas, the pride we feel in being a part of an all-women’s liberal
art’s college, where independent studies and internships are only a small part of the equation?
Hollins means different things to every
student. The broad advertisements that only focus on what we’ve been nationally acknowledged for excelling at leave
little room for other programs to shine. Without showcasing our lesser-known programs we can’t change our image. Where
is the reality of Hollins campus and academic life in our recruitment efforts?
There are other ways, I feel, to raise Hollins’ retention rate. According to the statistics located on the Registrar’s
website, 50.5 percent of the student body is from Virginia,
a 5.6 percentage increase from the 2000-2001 academic year. In fact students from the “Middle States” and “Southwestern
States” are only marginally higher from 2000 (0.1 and 0.2); those from the “New England States,” “Mid-Western
States,” and Foreign Countries are all lower than in 2000 (-2.1, -1.1, -0.3); and only those in the “Western States”
show a significant (if marginal) increase from 2000 (0.7).
With half the student body being from one
state, just how diverse is that? When a large group of students leave every weekend to go party at other surrounding colleges,
what does that say about the social life at Hollins? I’m a member of the Hollins Activity Board (HAB) so I help plan
events, but even I think that Hollins needs to start offering more activities during the weekends. Sure free movies every
Saturday night are fun, but they aren’t incentive enough to keep students from venturing away from campus. This past
J-Term events were well attended because there were so many activities planned – bingo nights, scrap-booking parties,
a live band every week – and many students stayed on-campus. Perhaps the attendance rates had to do with the fact that
many neighboring schools were not in session during the first half of January; regardless, if every month was as chock-full
of events as this J-term, maybe more students would stay at Hollins rather than
venturing to other schools.
Even more troubling is the fact that those
social events occurring on-campus are becoming witch hunts, where students are afraid to even be seen recycling a can because
they might be taken to Honor Court. There have been
rumors of students being indicted for drinking underage due to the sudden “abstinence” epidemic that seems to
be selectively sweeping across campus. Those persons turning them in: other students. How is this tattle-telling creating
a safe environment, where students caring nature about fellow Hollins women sustains the idea of the University being one
big sorority (in the most traditional “sisterhood” sense)?
One fact remains: the tense environment
brought about by students being encouraged to turn in other students doesn't help our retention rate. And why is this abstinence-policy
necessary (I understand the law decrees the legal drinking age, but is the administrative reminder to remember the honor code
at every party really needed)? Abstinence didn’t work for President Bush’s pro-life campaign, and it sure as hell
isn’t going to work at a college where the social life is just as important as the academic one.
On the website, Hollins states: “Students
choose Hollins for many reasons: for an excellent education at an excellent value; for the breadth of knowledge they’ll
acquire; for the creative spirit they find here; for the opportunity to make lifelong friends; for the chance to get a jump
start on a rewarding career through meaningful internships.” This standard response reads like a job posted on a resume
– a vague blurb where one’s menial tasks are listed in sort-of pseudo professional language, as if to hide the
fact that one really did little more than alphabetize files and pick-up the mail during their summer employment at a local
firm. Shouldn’t we stop relying on Annie Dillard’s poster quote: “where friendships thrive, minds catch
fire, careers begin, and hearts open to a world of possibility,” to broadcast the creative atmosphere of Hollins and
actually begin to dissect and understand what it means and how it affects students, in order to recruit new students and support
our current undergraduates and graduates on various levels, especially in regards to student activism? Because students’
“hearts [do] open to a world of possibility” at Hollins but it isn’t merely the Equestrian team or the Creative
Writing program (which suffers from vague publicity and a reliance on the token Pulitzer Prize win) that opens them up to
this new world, it’s something much larger that comes from them embracing their individuality – it’s growing
into their voices, it’s participating in Student Government, it’s the differing definitions of sexuality. Perhaps
it’s time for Hollins to acknowledge the creative needs and diverse personalities of her constituents, instead of trying
to hide students’ varying social activities behind awards and alumnae quotes. Perhaps, more than anything, the Hollins
community – especially those in Admissions – need to Levavi Oculus, to lift their eyes, in order to raise
retention rates and student satisfaction (because their happiness is a top priority) through a renewed appreciation of what
student life at this University really entails.
A Bitter Taste: Admissions And The Queer Community
by Rachel McCarthy James
The lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender and queer community on Hollins University
campus is far from dormant. A majority of professors have the "Safe Haven" rainbows on their doors that signify their acceptance
of all sexualities. The campus gay/straight alliance, OUTloud, is one of the most active clubs on campus.
But
Hollins Admissions has not always hurried to highlight the positive, accepting atmosphere around Hollins. Sophomore Ashley
Parker, an admissions tour guide since her first-year who became head tour guide in fall 2005, felt that the image Hollins
Admissions gave to prospective students did not showcase the LGBTQ community's active presence on-campus.
Ms. Parker, a
self-identified lesbian and a "very public face for admissions," did her work well, but had quarrels with the way that admissions
presented Hollins to prospective students. Parker, along with other students’ protests, forced admissions to change
their policies due to the false image of the University that was being projected to those not an active member of the Hollins
community.
"I objected to
the way tour guides were trained in terms of dealing with LBGT campus life," Ms. Parker said. While she was not present for
2005 tour guide training, she says that in 2004 training, "it was implied that guides should avoid/negate any notion that
of an active LBGTQ community on campus."
When she gave
tours and parents/students asked about same-sex relationships, Ms.Parker was told to say that there was no
more at Hollins than at any other school. "Straight students were more than welcome, [even] encouraged to
speak about [their] off-campus activities involving meeting boys… as long as it was 'appropriate'. But a gay student
talking about OUTloud was considered to be '[sexual]' and thus inappropriate. I thought that if there was a double standard than nobody should be allowed to
talk about their personal lives on tours," Ms. Parker said. "If a parent/student asked about lesbians, the general answer
was 'we don't have any more than any other school'."
Who was admissions looking to attract
by pushing its queer students back in the closet? Why doesn't Hollins want to showcase the open and accepting qualities in
our community? Ms. Parker decided to publicly protest the admissions policies with flyers around campus. She worked with sophomore
Jenni Austin, who designed the posters decrying the admission.
“To find out that the very
people who encouraged me to come here were the ones discriminating was a really big blow,” said Ms. Austin, who is the
co-chair of OUTloud. “I just couldn't sit back and let them hide the existence of a community I am very much a part
of and very much love. I would do it again hands down, even though I wanted to give up so many times because of the stress.
It was worth the dirty looks and lost friendships.”
The flyers resulted from a class
project for a course in women's studies, Lesbian and Queer Politics. Ms. Parker and Ms. Austin did not feel that their dissent
was welcome - their flyers were torn down in some areas.
"The whole flyer/activism thing
was a big no-no, I couldn't do any of that," Ms. Parker said. "I was a very public face for admissions, and I was told that
what I did on campus and off campus directly affected the university. I resigned because I couldn't voice my opinion on campus
policies and issues without it reflecting back on the office."
However, campus admissions have righted themselves in some ways since Ms. Parker's resignation,
which took place in November 2005. The admissions office formally apologized to all students on campus for any sort of discrimination
in the form of an email from president Nancy Gray, which read in part:
“[The Admissions Office] strive[s] to make all visitors and prospective students feel at home, to stress that
we are a diverse community, that we celebrate our differences, and that all of our lives are enriched by our outstanding academic
programs and sense of community.
"In response to questions about our students’ sexual identity, the admissions staff and
student volunteers emphasize the inclusive nature of our community and explain that we do not track such personal information
about our students. All tour guides, hostesses and ambassadors are advised to relay specific information about academic
programs, facilities, and campus life, tailored to the prospective student’s interests. When asked personal questions,
they are encouraged to either answer honestly to the level that they feel comfortable or to refer those questions to the professional
staff.”
The handbook only makes oblique reference to queer life on campus. LGBT life is only explicitly mentioned in the handbook
section on “Diversity and Intercultural Programs at Hollins”. In a paragraph on the function of the Intercultural
programs, it is stated that “[the Intercultural Programs advocate] for lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender students…”
OUTloud is also mentioned as one of the largest organizations on campus, though unlike the majority of the other programs
mentioned, its purpose is not explained as with SGA or ADA. (Ms. Austin, the OUTloud co-chair, estimated that there are 30
members in OUTloud currently.)
It is important to note that admissions
policies are frequently vague and can be worked around. But it is also important to recognize the change that has been affected
because of this instance of activism. Ms. Parker and Ms. Austin's flyers have brought problems of misrepresentation out of
the closet into the arena of discussion at Hollins. While admissions still sugarcoats the idea of Hollins, they have taken
steps towards honesty and respect for the students they snared, who love the school with all its flaws and misrepresentations.
“I will be damned if I leave
this place with a bitter taste,” Ms. Austin said, “because I loved it more than it loved me.”
Student Advocacy
by Anonymous
Where have all the activists
at Hollins gone? What does it mean to be a student activist? What does it entail? And why are people so afraid of the repercussions
that come with that title?
The posters that were
seen plastered across campuses this fall were important in reminding the campus of what has been forgotten, if only for a
small period of time: who, on this campus really has the power? The answer is clear: students. But with a pattern of administrative
tactics that seem to turn a deaf ear to student responses or the continual committee formations and work that ends in vaguely
worded policies/actions, how are students supposed to realize that their voices are important? While Hollins continually stresses
the importance of an all-woman’s college, stating that all students should feel comfortable speaking up both inside
and outside of the classroom, this attitude seems in direct opposition to the fact that many students are scared (not apathetic)
of speaking out against Hollins policies. If Hollins has created an intimidating environment where social change is selectively
chosen, how is this conducive to women letting their thoughts be heard in hopes of revolutionizing our community?
Hollins is supposedly a sisterhood, but
when students are used as scapegoats to keep activism from occurring on a larger scale, where then, is the support? And when
activism occurs, students are forced to take sides, often taking a neutral stance (based in confusion and misunderstanding
of the activists’ intent) or siding with the administration’s stance of “next-time-please-let-us-know-your-plans-before-they-occur-so-we-can-swiftly-prepare-a-response.”
Because this friendly reminder to the administration that students are creating their own platform, as Dean Ridley and Provost
Wayne Markert alluded to in an article for the Columns about the black/white posters that were seen in Moody, is ‘responsible
activism.’” While I
understand the importance of the administration and students working together towards social change, I don’t find it
necessary for the administration to be warned of a show of activism before it occurs. A helpful tip allows for the administration
to make a per-determined response without the initial “shock” reaction that triggers an important conscious process:
witnessing the cry to change on a certain issue, questioning the issue, trying to re-work the issue, understanding the students’
feelings, working with the students, etc.
And why is this shock
factor necessary? Because time and time again students have felt that the only way for their voices to be heard is to shock
that administration into admitting there are issues at Hollins that are not being addressed. When students use this tactic,
however, they are often ostracized by the administration for staging something deemed unproductive, or unsympathetic to students
feelings (i.e. the black/white seating signs) – a blame that comes from touching on hurtful topics. Perhaps students
are so focused on this reaction because they feel stifled by Hollins outstanding aptitude to ignore the issues at hand, and
the underlying attitude that dissension is not as democratic as one would is supposed to think. With every protest Hollins
continually slips back into the conservative, silencing atmosphere that causes students to attempt to use a shock value to
get the real attention they deserve.
Merriam-Webster.com defines “activism”
like this: “a doctrine or practice that emphasizes direct vigorous action especially in support of or opposition to
one side of a controversial issue.” The token word in this definition is “controversial.” Due to the recent
history of administrative responses to activism at Hollins, it’s understandable that students are wary to tackle any
issues that could be controversial; they’re afraid for their own welfare. However, it’s the administration who
are fearful of students tackling such controversial issues because it forces them to acknowledge that there are major flaws
in Hollins polices and in the way students and faculty are treated when addressing
them. For example, both students and teachers alike are wary of taking a stance on such contentious issues as: housing (why
are some students granted singles for a health-related issue and others are told they still have to pay a fee?), transgender
policies, the batten leadership program, etc.; because of how controversial they are.
What’s frustrating
is the fact that the students who do speak up are often discouraged by the response they receive, setting a precedent for
other students who might test the waters if only they felt it would be respected, listened to fully (with their real intention
taken into account), and ultimately lead to some sort-of resolution. But even those students who do speak up are often not
supported by their fellow students. It’s this lack of support that’s the most discouraging part of the entire
situation. This lack of collaboration puts a heavy weight on the few students who attempt to bear the load of planning an
activist protest, staging it, and dealing with its aftermath. We go to a liberal arts school were classes are cross-linked
and students are encouraged to empower each other, but when it comes down to the wire certain students who speak out are left
dangling by fellow peers and administers. If major departments support one another through various classes and meetings, why
can’t we as students support the varying perspectives we hold?
Perhaps this is why there is such a difference in the label of “student
advocate” and “student leader.” Not all leaders are activists. A student leader can protest against something
they deem unfair, but the question remains – who are they speaking for, and why? A student leader can stage a protest
and blame the mixed response on an inner frustration that claims students are merely apathetic, or the administration is too
busy (such as an administrator holding down 3 jobs) and should be treated with more respect from fellow students. Student
leaders may also feel the administration needs to step up on an issue but doesn’t want to promote change in a way that
is any more “problematic” than what has already been discussed. Sometimes student leaders feel it is necessary
to take a stand because “those student leaders aren’t the ones in SGA,” (as I was once told) and they want
the quick elation of doing something good for a cause (who then are they speaking for – themselves?). But often times
these leaders think students are dumb because they don’t follow suit when they make their case – how untrue! When
a leader makes a statement it’s not immediately understood and often the students, in an effort to comprehend the situation,
become confused by the fuddled responses. A student advocate, on the other hand, speaks for students who are afraid to speak
up themselves, is hopeful for the support of others (but will speak up without this support), is given the brunt of criticism,
and even deals with threats of censorship. Someone may be a student advocate in the classroom but may not identify as an activist,
while a leader (which I understand is rather problematic to define) may not automatically be a student advocate.
College is a place where students should be able to speak freely. When
students feel stifled by administrative tactics, or feel that they are being disrespected and their feelings are being disregarded,
there is a much larger issue. It’s time for the administration to change their tune, to encourage activism rather than
see it as a personal attack against Hollins. Students who want to change things do so because they love Hollins; they want
to make it better. And this goes for Professors as well. There are many Professors who are student advocates but who find
that their lack of the safety-belt “tenure” makes them unwilling to openly support the activism itself because
it may negatively impact their career (this is not to say that there aren’t tenured professors who are student advocates,
there are). When Professors without tenure are unable to show support for fear or being fired or receiving the administration’s
censure, then Hollins shouldn’t be boasting of a great student-to-faculty ratio if that ratio is only a number and not
something that delineates a larger support network.
The reason we students embrace activism, or wish we felt secure enough to embrace
it, is because we want to voice our opinions passionately to save ourselves and our University from a life of quiet desolation
(a forest of commonality brought on by silence). Why? To make sure we do not, as Henry Thoreau once wrote, “suck out
all the marrow of life...to put to rout all that was not life; and not, when [we come] to die, discover that [we] had not
lived.” Here is the inescapable truth: it only takes one voice to begin a cycle of change, but it takes many persons
to keep that cycle going.
Defining Diversity
by Miranda Dennis
When students, faculty, administrators, and committees throw around
the word "diversity," what are we saying? If I retreated from human interaction and relied solely on a Merriam-Webster dictionary,
I would be far less confused:
diverse 1 : differing from one another : UNLIKE 2 : composed of distinct
or unlike elements or qualities.
Merriam-Webster is pretty confident about the meaning of the word, so why can't I
be? Well, there is the literal definition of the word, as already supplied, and then there is "diversity" as a term co-opted
by liberal politics, the media, and this University. To better understand the Hollins definition of "diversity," I looked
at the intercultural programs page of the Hollins website. If you feel you don't have time to peruse the site, here's the
gist of it: Hollins has various organizations that allow for the community to become more "inclusive" and address oppressive
behaviors."
This is a typical Guilty Reaction, internalized by our University.
When dominant groups become aware of their own privilege in society, they feel guilty and confused by that emotion. Rather
than using this awareness to be more (r)evolutionary in dealing with social stratification, "diversity" pops up, like a tasteful,
polite way to handle the situation. "We would like diversity, please. Oh, and pass the salt, to flavor our great American
melting pot stew." Diversity is good, though. I like that concept, and I especially like it used as a broad abstract,
everything from diverse people to diverse food (memo to Aramark). I like political diversity, theological diversity, diversity
in pedagogy, and diversity in art. It wouldn't hurt to improve the diversity of my wardrobe, either. My real problem is using
this concept of diversity as a general way to "address oppressive behaviors." As you might have guessed by now, we wouldn't
need to say "diversity" if this society were egalitarian, if Hollins were truly egalitarian. As it stands, we need
more than just diversity. We need a force, a coalition, that is against those things that diversity tries to heal: sexism,
racism, classism, etc. I am not knocking diversity, but I am asking that we separate our need for diversity from our need
to eradicate systems of oppression. We must understand that appreciating interaction across cultures is not the same as addressing
bigotry when and where it appears. What does it matter if we have This Diversity Club and That Diversity Club if prejudices
and inequalities keep us from connecting with and supporting one another? In this context Hollins is a microcosm of the United States, and if inequalities still exist in our country,
using the liberal buzz word "diversity" will work no better here on campus than out there in the Real World.
Strategic Planning
by Anonymous
As excited as I get about the potential for change, Strategic Planning
remains a bit of a sore spot for me. A simple definition of our Strategic Planning process is: brainstorming an achievable
set of ideas on how to improve Hollins. The specific question that it seeks to answer is, “How can Hollins offer a distinctive
and successful undergraduate program for women in the liberal arts and sciences in the 21st century?” Once some answers
have been established, the next step is to outline a plan of campus betterment to enact over the next five to ten years.
The structure of the Strategic Planning
process is based on earlier development and past initiatives that have yet to be fully realized. Beginning this past semester,
the board of trustees and the president began to piece together a plan involving students, alumnae, parents, administrators,
faculty and staff through a number of “community” forums and discussions, as well as the option for any member
of Hollins to submit their own strategic planning proposal. The first draft of the plan was released to students last week.
So then, what are my reservations about
strategic planning? Surely on the one hand, having a built-in venue for change is fantastic opportunity to see dreams fulfilled.
There is nothing that I want more for this school than to see it strive to reach its potential. Furthermore, the very idea
of planning that involves all community constituents falls into step with my vision for a more inclusive community, with less
divide between students, faculty, administrators, and staff. On the other hand, I’m uncomfortable with the visible core
of change on this campus being taken out of students’ hands, and being placed in the hands of institutionalized committees,
where the leadership will inevitably commence in addressing issues that speak primarily to Hollins in terms of increasing
the University’s revenue and prestige. Such a group will likely select only the least radical proposals out of the hundreds
of imaginative submissions. A shame, seeing as the very first item listed under
the “Hallmarks of a Hollins Education” is creativity.
The bottom line is that Strategic Planning
is commendable in that it is open to the ideas of everyone on campus, but it is nothing unique or special.
Strategic Planning’s first fallacy lies in its facade of distinctiveness: In
truth, every new administrative regime does this at any college or corporation. They make changes and look like they are acquiescing
to virtually all community, and specifically student, concerns. However after the initial rush and show of good faith, it
is just as much about image, prestige, approval rating, and power, as it is about
genuinely improving the school. The process is about revealing who the “big dogs” are, finding potential allies,
and rooting out those who stand in the way of the ever-elusive ‘success’ of the institution. It is a dangerous
time for an untenured professor to be a student advocate. It is a dangerous time for staff members to speak up about grievances,
lest they be put on the “bad list” and one of the first to be shunted aside under a new organizational system.
The only people in this community free to truly take advantage of Strategic Planning and speak freely are the students. Why
then, do we ultimately have the least say in the process? Hollins is a business. We, the students, are the customer, and the
customer is always right.
At present, the flexibility
that strategic planning offers is our greatest hope for enacting change on this campus. It is an opportunity to carve out
niches within the newly modified administrative and academic orders. Conversely, strategic planning is also a great threat
to activism on this campus, because of the way it is framed: as an all encompassing
platform plus potential resolution for grievances. Every activist notion I had this past semester was met with, “Yeah,
you should really try to get that into Strategic Planning.” If all my conniving could indeed be accepted and eventually
implemented, it would be quite extraordinary- but what to do in the meantime?
Under the premise that every
single petition for change is being considered, traditional activism is rendered superfluous at best and unnecessary at worst.
It is difficult to fight for a revolution when all of our demands have not been denied; they are just “in the process
of being considered.” Since there was never a firm “no” given by the higher-ups, they can assert that all
activism on campus is baseless, and that we simply didn’t give them enough time. Once again we run into the case of
proposals being tied up in committees, and lack of clarity in communication. We’re told from the time we’re young
to be patient. Patience is invaluable at times, but there is a need for immediacy here if we want to get our own version of
“a distinctive and successful” Hollins on the map. If you want something, fight for it. Don’t expect the
institution to make it happen for you.
Another fallacy of strategic planning lies
in the assertion that it is meant to reach out to each member of the campus community with relative equality. Yet we leave
the ultimate decision-making in the hands of those already at the top of the ladder. The higher-ups on campus will have to
work as ferociously for sweeping change on this campus, without any personal benefit. I don’t trust that there is incentive
enough for them to make choices that truly reflect what is good for the entire Hollins community.
How many people have actually read over the
Strategic Planning binders that don’t actively sit on planning committees? How
many of us even know what has been proposed? The original rough copies of all Strategic Planning submissions were placed one
in each of the four “Division Head” offices. When I finally made it to one of the offices where the binders are
kept, I was told that I was the first person to have asked for it. Small wonder, I mean, how many students know where the
offices are located, or even what the divisions are, especially with all this talk of re-vamping them? How is a staff member
supposed to access the strategic plans without arousing suspicion if they have to journey deep within an academic or administrative
building to get it? Right after the binders became available, I went to the library in an attempt to peruse one- but was told
that they don’t house a copy, for reasons unknown. This strikes me as unfortunate, seeing as it’s one of the most
readily accessible places for students, but not surprising.
The first draft of the Strategic Plan has
now been made available to students, and I urge you all to read it, if you have not already. The main tenets of the plan include:
environmental and cultural stability, intercultural experience, interdisciplinary as well as service learning, creative problem-solving,
campus utilization and effectiveness, and life-long learning. Leadership is the emphasis.
There are excellent beginnings here, but the voices that created this document, the same that monopolized proposals
in the original Strategic Planning binders, are not those of students.
Hollins is doing its institutional duty by
making strategic planning most inclusive of the well-established groups and higher ups. Institutions resist change because
disrupting ‘business as usual’ tends to cause more work. Our school is no different. President Gray once said
in speaking to my class that we are encouraged to address our concerns regarding the university, but that we should take care
by “trying to resolve them in ways that don’t stir it up worse.” It is our job to stir things up, to create
our own sets of checks and balances for Hollins. It is always the troublesome people who are a catalyst for transformative
change.
This isn’t to say that Strategic Planning
is all a sham. Fundamentally, it does have the good of the school in mind, as do our leaders undeniably. The primary focus
of Strategic Planning is making Hollins viable for the 21st century, and attracting students for the future. This is obviously
imperative, but what about the students today? We live in both a present and a future reality, and I don’t want all
of my dreams deferred. My intent is not to criticize without reason, but to ensure that we don’t just sit back and wait
for the Strategic Planning Committee to inform us of what they’ve decided to do. That we don’t settle for the
confines of this initial write-up. It’s only a draft after all. There is still time to ensure that the document that
supposedly caters to the entirety of this community carries your voice along with it.
For any significant change
to take place on the Hollins campus, as with anywhere, it is crucial to make waves both within the system and outside of it.
Strategic Planning is the perfect vehicle for within the system. Our concerns can be raised, requests made, but then we will
not sit passively by. As our campus community has learned from recent activist history, every action needs a follow through.
Let Strategic Planning and open dialogue become the initial mode of getting our voices out there. Let continued discussion
and decisive action be our follow through.
In closing, I want to
take a moment to commend President Gray and all those in power who remain student and community advocates. Just because institutions
are inherently oppressive does not make those in charge of running the system our enemy. My reservations about the effectiveness
of Strategic Planning have no bearing on my belief that our President has her heart in the right place as far as the good
of the college is concerned. She is open to hearing the voices of students, and has taken the time to meet with most concerned
member of the campus community personally. True, at times she glosses over the problems we confront her with, but she certainly
doesn’t have all of the answers. We need to be creative here, and take the initiative ourselves. If you present a problem
with a well thought out solution, no matter how unconventional, it becomes difficult to say no. Institutional logic begins
to work in our favor, as all loose ends must be tied up somehow.
My favorite radical monk,
Thomas Merton, once wrote, “The biggest human temptation is to settle for too little.” Let us not settle, not
yet. We have the rest of our lives for that. Fighting now while the system is malleable is crucial. Strategic Planning has
provided a springboard for the ingenuity of the students on this campus. Get involved with the Strategic Planning process
while we still have a say in the matter, before the Board of Trustees signs it into effect. Implement your “distinctive”
Hollins education here and now. Dream big, and don’t stop.
Intercultural Programs
by Anonymous
Hollins is segregated. Not
just along white-black lines, but more profoundly under national lines. So
often I hear “I don’t talk to people inside/outside of Carvin” or “I thought because I was taking
a Global Perspectives class, it meant that we would cover some perspectives from around the globe.” These statements seem harmless enough, but look around you. Look
at Hollins’ publications. How many non-white people do you see? The question narrows down to “when was the last time?”
When was the last time you were shaken by a diversity presentation? When
was the last time you remember having a Cultural Fair?
Hollins, apparently, is the place for more
literal moving than figurative ones. For example, the Intercultural Program has
even been so kind as to offer up a special orientation to the underrepresented students that come to Hollins, a week-long
program that will get students adjusted to Hollins life extra early. (Could it
be because there was only one international student at Hollins? Oh, sorry, we’re
working on that.) Of course, the selection process for this orientation is super
easy: just send out a special invitation to all the racially underrepresented students.
What are the faults of this kind of racial profiling? Take a Hispanic student that is coming from a predominately white
school. Now compare her transition to a white student coming from a majority
Hispanic school/town. Why are only some of these transitions incorporated and
included in the New Student Orientation? Why is race the qualifier for a separate
orientation?
All the segregation (oops- separation) may
not seem like such a big deal until you consider the average speed Hollins students change cliques in their first year. For those of you who aren’t first-years, consider this: how many of your best-friends
have you known since you were a first-year? It seems to be a rule of thumb that
most friend groups don’t start breaking up until second semester. Isolating
certain groups (especially on account of race) when integration is most likely to happen encourages isolation from the general
Hollins community.
Isolation doesn’t stop at orientation,
as shown by the dinners for the international students and friends. This small
interaction is only advertised to those living in Carvin and select members of the Intercultural Programs. There is, of course, the Intercultural Fair, which does offer to expose our diverse cultures to the general
student body, but how many people without direct connections to Carvin or the Intercultural Program actually knew about this? We, as a student body, should be educated on many different cultures both inside and
outside of the curriculum. How are we to experience the diversity that exists on our campus if the events that celebrate these
differences are only available to those where they are most pronounced? Example,
why should only the most visually identified members of the Hollins queer community be invited to a Intercultural Program’s
Diversity Banquet at the end of the year? Why should we even have a Diversity
Banquet for seniors?
During the last luke-warm MLK Day presentation,
I, along with most of the cafeteria, stood to sing the Black National Anthem “We Shall Overcome.” I found myself thinking about what it is Hollins needs to overcome first: the apathy instilled by administrations’
“We’re working on it” or the student’s seeming apathy toward learning about diversity. “We’re working on it” so often is the stopping point to any argument, say, the transgender
policy of Hollins, as well as the administration’s official stance on student activism.
It implies that the “we” knows more than you do, and you shouldn’t worry your pretty little head
over it any more. And if you wiggle your way into getting involved? If bureaucracy proves omnipotent, nine times out of ten it will involve sitting on a dead-end committee
once a month. (Try this venue, but be advised that a committee is not the only
way to solve a problem.)
What good is a presentation
if it doesn’t challenge what you think, gets students interested and involved?
I remember being surrounded by the depth and passion of the Black Nation at my high school’s February (Black
History Month) presentations. The feeble quotes that belonged to the halls of
the NAACP were backed up by artistic performances, event presentations, and videos.
After being challenged severely on my internal racism and several heated debates later, I found myself closer to my
schoolmates than ever. That sort of vigor and willingness to challenge people,
even subtly, is what many of our programs at Hollins lack. It seems with every
one I attend, I find myself more apathetic and ignorant than when I came in.
And that’s the thing,
Martin Luther King Jr. had some pretty revolutionary ideas which apply to even today.
He wasn’t even the only black man to speak up against racism (surprise!).
If you want to go on the global scale, we could also be holding a presentation on Nelson Mandela. Diversity is good, but it shouldn’t end there. Nancy
Gray, surprisingly, was the only speaker to even hint at what we as both individuals and a university should work for: equality
in our diversity. It seems that everyone else had forgotten the tears and rage
that was exhibited during the aftermath of the Moody segregation exercises. Are
we that fickle? Do we forget exactly who has the power in this school?
The responsibility for change does not fall
on only the Intercultural Program’s shoulders. It’s a shame how under
funded and staffed the program actually is. Our funding problems are just one
more reason for students to take charge. Example: OUTloud and the BSA actually
do a social discussing racism in the queer community. That’s something
I haven’t seen on this campus. It seems that our student organizations
need to take back the power that has been robbed from them in the past. Let’s
bring in new programs, new speakers to match our campus’ liberal politics. What
do you want to see? This is your space.
Don’t be afraid to design your own program, create your own mantra. When
you hear “We’re working on it” to your question, respond by asking “How?”
Top Songs For Activists
by Julia Knox
The following are in random order, chosen by their ability to get me, personally, in the activist mood. I’ve
given specific motivational lyrics and any necessary backstory (mostly for the musicals).
“The
World Will Know,” Newsies
Newsies tells the story of turn of the century newsboys in New York City, tired of being taken advantage of by big-name publishers William Randolph
Hearst and Joe Pulitzer. When the price of their “papes” are raised, Jack Kelly decides that’s the last
straw – the newsies are going on strike. What follows is a rousing chorus number in which the newsies declare the strike
is on and while “Pulitzer may own the World but he don’t own us.” After all, “when you got 100 voices
singing, who can hear a lousy whistle blow?”
“Changes,” 2pac
"We
gotta start making changes, learn to see me as a brother instead of two distant strangers…It’s time for us as
a people to start making some changes. Let’s change the way we eat, let’s change the way we live, and let’s
change the way treat each other.”
“Defying Gravity,” Wicked
Wicked is the “untold story” of the Wicked Witch of the West
from the Wizard of Oz. In Defying Gravity,
Elpheba (the Wicked Witch) goes off to fight the Wizard without the help of her best friend, Glinda (the
future good witch). As Elpheba flies away, she decares, “I’m through accepting limits because someone says they’re
so. Some things I’ll never change but til I try I’ll never know…and if I’m flying solo, at least I’m
flying free – to those who ground me, take a message back from me: tell them how I am defying gravity.”
“Fight For Your Right (to Party),”
the Beastie Boys
This song is fun at any party. It’s especially fun at recent Hollins parties,
when the meaning takes on so much more. Really, you do have to fight for your right to party. Now I’m certainly not
suggesting that every new 18-year-old freshman go out on a 3 day bender when they first get here. But if the worst you do
in life is responsibly enjoy a Tom Collins in the privacy of your home, you could be doing a lot worse. Sometimes people need
to be reminded of that, especially the ones who call campus safety before the party has even started, or who threaten to turn
someone into honor court for so much as walking through the beer aisle at Kroger, or who act like a drunk 20-year-old is so
much worse than the coke addict who lives next door, or who drank all the time underage but are now Ms. Holier-than-Thou now
that they’re 21. My favorite people to scream this song with are Ashley Anderson and Lisa Bower, who add a little
something extra to the lyrics: “You gotta fight (stop snitchin’) for your right (stop snitchin’) to party!”
“Seize the Day”, Newsies
This list might by a little Newsies-heavy, but it’s hard to ignore when they’re
so inspiring. When Jack’s partner in crime, David, comes around to the idea of the strike, he leads the newsies in Seize
the Day. Together, the newsies can do anything – “wrongs will be righted, if [they’re] united…proud
and defiant, [they’ll] slay the giant.” Sometimes I really get the urge to burst out into this song during Senate.
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