I'd like to begin with the disclaimer that I do not intend to offend any of the groups about to be mentioned. I am simply stating trends that I've observed during my first month here. When I chose to come to Amherst College, I had the hope that I would be working with brilliant, intelligent people who liked one another. Do I sound naive? Predictably, discrimination still stains our interactions.
Every direction I look, I'm told that athletes can't cut it here. I am not an athlete myself-not a walk-on, not a recruit, I don't even make it to the gym regularly-but I've noticed a tremendous resentment of athletes at Amherst. Some people I've talked to believe that athletes are undeserving of admission, going so far as to call our school a "jockocracy." I'd hope that particular speculation would remain reserved for those who weren't accepted by Amherst. As students here, I would hope that we could distance ourselves from the notion that our peers are somehow less intelligent or bring less to the table than we do.
If the situation at Amherst was anything like that of "Revenge of the Nerds," geekish frustration would be more understandable. However, the unfounded claims that athletes run the school or that social life is too sports-centered betray much about college insecurity. The simple fact that I've been treated so well by everyone, regardless of my lack of varsity affiliation gives me no motivation to hate the "jockocracy." In fact, the person who most convinced me to come to Amherst was a former soccer recruit who graduated in the mid-70s.
Perhaps the athletes here are at fault for some of the misplaced dislike of them. I could see how initial discrimination against athletes could have prompted cynical isolation from Amherst society as a response. But no matter what the cause is, I still wouldn't describe athletes at Amherst as "exclusive." There is little doubt that our teams have-and exhibit-great loyalty. The sight of the entire soccer team at dinner is a little intimidating, but something must be said for the strange way our college works. Although the dining hall is filled with teams eating together after practice, at lunch nothing is clear-cut. Whereas I might lose track of my swimmer friends from 4-8, there's no team pressure for them to spit at me when they're with the team. Some team parties after games start exclusive, but by the end of the night it's not uncommon to see debaters with soccer players and rowers with the newspaper folks.
I guess the only thing I can say in conclusion is that it's never failed to be worth the effort for me to get to know anyone. Maybe I'm just less cynical than everyone else, but I don't think anyone should have to confront the rampant disdain athletes face, and I don't believe the discussion of whether athletes belong here is a productive one.
Jacob Thomas '07
Cynicism stems from ignorance
I agree with the piece in last week's issue of The Student titled "Why are Americans so cynical these days?" in echoing that "life is all about perspective." I'll even second the notion that "cynicism is trendy these days," though I bet it's not for the reasons my peer advocates. Buckman Sexton's piece cogently summarizes America's recent international run-ins with longtime friends and foes and explains how that has impacted American cynicism, but his perspective doesn't get at the very bottom of American cynicism.
Taking a different perspective, I see Americans not as cynics, but as fatigued and largely ill-informed souls. Just look at the foreign policy survey done on Amherst students last year asking basic questions about heads of state. The results were less than impressive. Hence, is cynicism derived from avoiding appearing naive or ignorance? Or about our being hypnotized day-in-and-day-out by the formulaic pronouncements of our media, and our general miscomprehension about world affairs to begin with?
Since so many Americans are pathetically unaware of the basics of our foreign relations (maybe they should all take World Politics with Dr. Machala), maybe we should attempt to discover the sources of cynicism in our early education. As for "the goodness of American principles," most of us seem only to have a quick and dirty familiarity with that too. The sad fact is that even us privileged "bourgeois Americans" from Andover to Amherst, who allegedly learned every crucial background piece of information needed to "come up with something new," are still not coming up with much.
Just what is it that makes us cynical? Sexton's right: "everyone has a newer way to criticize, whine or show apathy." That's half the healthy equation. Any good democracy needs critical thinkers and healthy skepticism. Apathy by and large doesn't exist. We do care; we just have no clue what we can do. We don't know what to do because we don't understand the complex factors inherent in the issues at hand. How can one offer an "original solution" or "constructive suggestion" without knowing more about Iraq than what we hear from CNN? It would literally take all our thorough comprehension and reflexive thoughts on the subject at hand to yield new and integral thought in a non-cynical way. Alas, cynicism originates from ignorance.
Moreover, there's an even uglier reason behind this. Too many people are either unwilling to dialogue (reflexive thought) or they are afraid, not of appearing naive, but of appearing out of the norm. Let's face it; getting at new and refreshing approaches to the issues of our times requires that we revolutionize the way we think about them. Soundbites are anathema to new thinking. At the other pole, people don't want to appear too extreme. This, Amherst comrades, is why we are so cynical. Even an untouchable politician like Uncle Ted will never suggest new ways of revitalizing Iraq beyond his usual Bush-flaying because he knows his image will come into question. Anything new is by default revolutionary. To amend my colleague's synopsis, "Nobody wants to appear [revolutionary], so to avoid this we are [warned not to venture beyond the status quo] on just about everything." We are slaves to convention. Compound that with the fact that we don't wish to discuss anymore-even once we've mastered all the crucial background information on the issues-and you've got America in 2003. You've got cynicism.
We'd be wise to heed John Gardner's words: "The cynic says, 'One man can't do anything.' He then says, 'Only one man can do anything.' I say, "One man interacting creatively with others can move the world." Comrades, please discuss issues. An idealist calls for people to take stances and come up with new solutions. We are the world. A realist suggests the infrastructure needed before we start groping in the dark for "something new." Let's get real.
Michael Simmons '06E
Why do we need more professors?
It would definitely be marvelous to have more professors. But how important is it, and how much will it really affect our classes? I think the truth on both counts is somewhat less clear than The Student editorial board makes it out to be.
First, it seems to me that nearly all of the most popular (and therefore largest) classes at Amherst are popular and large because the either the professor or the class is either popular or reputedly easy. In the first category are Professor Sarat's classes and in the second are several introductory classes for non-majors. The former would be just as large if the LJST department had hundreds of professors, and the popularity of the latter is, if anything, a trend to be worried about.
Second, a majority of occasional courses are those designed by individual professors on topics that interest them particularly, so it seems unlikely that they will want to teach one another's courses. It seems likelier that all we will gain from larger departments is a thicker course catalogue with many more tantalizing courses that, alas, will not be offered until we graduate. Not that this is a bad thing (it isn't), but it will not address the issue.
Third, encouraging the disproportionate popularity of a few departments by enlarging them is not necessarily a good idea. The reputation of a department grows with its size, so it seems at least possible that expanding large departments will ultimately increase the percentage of applicants (and, therefore, of entering students) who intend to major in those subjects. Amherst may already be lopsided, but that is no reason to make it more so. The editorial board claims that there are too few professors for the psychology majors, but it would be just as legitimate to claim that there are too many psychology majors for the department.
And finally, the reason why the editors of The Student know so few physics majors is that we're too cool to hang out with the likes of them.
Sarang Gopalakrishnan '06
Overcrowding needs research
The Student's editorial that appeared last week titled "Keep Amherst's classes small and intimate" makes an illogical argument for hiring more faculty in overcrowded majors. The argument is the following:
(1) Amherst values small classes.
(2) Some departments are far more crowded than others.
(3) Therefore, we should increase the faculty of the crowded departments.
The above conclusion simply does not follow from the premises. Why increase faculty? There are many solutions to the problem of overcrowding, and the editorial provides no justification for choosing this solution. Furthermore, providing overcrowded departments with additional faculty may have negative side effects.
In order to recommend a solution to the problem of overcrowding, one must first answer the essential question: "Why are some majors overcrowded?" If one believes that people choose their classes because of their interest in the subject, then it would make sense to hire more faculty. But it seems just as reasonable to assume that people choose their classes and majors because they are easy or that they avoid certain classes because of reputed bad teaching. In these situations, the proper solution would be to change the teaching in the departments rather than hire more faculty.
To understand how to solve overcrowding, one must first understand the causes of the overcrowding. This requires empirical work. The Student, however, just blindly assumes that bad teaching and student laziness play no role in this process.
In fact, rewarding crowded departments with additional faculty might endanger the quality of education. Since most departments would love to increase their size, this policy would give them an incentive to compete with each other for students. The effect of would be to convince less crowded majors to pander to popular demand, which is not necessarily bad as students should pursue their interests. But, many students' preferences are less virtuous than to merely study their interests. Some students (dare I say it!) strive for the least amount of work possible to graduate; shocking, yes. But if we are bold to enough to assume that some students at our fine academic institution are merely here to get a degree, then a policy inducing departments to compete with one another may very well "dumb down" the education at Amherst.
The issue of overcrowded classes is far more complicated than The Student's editorial would suggest. Not only does discovering a solution require a great deal of empirical work, but it also forces us to make serious value judgments. Do we value having a more "balanced" student body? This would suggest making changes in admissions rather than making changes in the faculty. Or should we cater to the interests of current students? To solve a complex problem such as this by simply hiring more faculty without any empirical justification or serious deliberation about values would shake the very hills of the Pioneer Valley with ignominy and scandal!
Joseph Rachiele '05E
Don't settle for a compromise
I soon plan to register to vote in the Democratic primary. I personally support Howard Dean, and I am disappointed to hear that a myriad of people, who otherwise would support less-compromising candidates like Dean, turn to Wesley Clark, Joe Lieberman or John Edwards. The argument is that the Democrats need to nominate a moderate candidate because a leftist candidate will polarize the voting and lead to another democratic failure, much like when the first Bush came to office in 1988.
First, I would remind them of the Nader voters in 2000. My opinion of Nader aside, voters who claimed they could not distinguish between Bush and Gore were not "voting for Bush" by voting for Nader. They were voting for candidates like Dean: leftist candidates who don't compromise their platform. Who really felt happy with Gore in 2000? Most people hoped he would beat Bush only because they didn't like Bush. In effect, they made the campaign about how bad Bush was, not how good Gore was.
We know Bush is bad. Let's move on and not waste this election trying to get someone out of office, but get someone into office. I like Dean. I think he stays true to his platform, is clear-minded enough to not always vote for the far left and carries a good history of domestic politics in Vermont.
But I'm not writing this to convince people to vote for Dean. I want people to have faith in their candidates and their own viewpoints, and vote based on them. Stop compromising, or we'll never change America.
The Democratic party had this in mind when they voted for Nancy Pelosi, a leftist, to be their minority leader in Congress. Perhaps they also remembered the stinging defeat in 2000 when the Democrats lost any semblance of a message and became an alternative, like vegan nuggets. Living in New Hampshire, watching every national seat go red, I certainly felt that way.
How will we ever know if we could get somebody in office that the liberals could really like if we don't try? As Dean says, this isn't a beer commercial. We shouldn't be choosing between Bush and Bush-lite.
Max Rosen '07