I didn't apply to Brown because I thought there was too much freedom in academic decisions. Little did I know that Amherst employs the same lack of guidelines, something I have since come to grips with, but still question. Like many other Amherst students, I was a fan of math, science, English, social studies and French in high school, yet I find myself taking only humanities courses as a freshman at Amherst. Something in me rebels against limiting myself to the social sciences.
The initial and logical response is, "So get over it and take some math or science." Maybe it's a masochistic trend of mine, but I almost want someone to make me take science or math since I know I won't do it on my own. I like the sciences and I've done well in them in the past, but I've never envisioned a career in them.
The notion of a liberal arts curriculum is to educate a student in a wide range of subjects: to create Renaissance men. This should require dabbling in science, art, a language, English, math and other subjects. I don't feel that the advising system at Amherst accomplishes this goal. I may not have much perspective yet, but I know personally that I will take less science and math and focus more on political science and English, simply because no one forces me to take science. It isn't an issue of good students or bad, or students that make bad choices. Quite simply, I feel as though I would be more inclined to take science classes with requirements.
Furthermore, some students do better in English than science or vice versa. Many of these students will want to apply to graduate school and may not want the lower grades on their transcripts. That doesn't mean they would rebel if forced to take science, but it does mean that they probably wouldn't take it on their own. Why would you take classes unaffiliated with your line of work if you knew you would perform worse? And the answer cannot simply be to enrich your own curriculum.
Am I advocating core requirements? Maybe I am. They can be simple, requiring students to take three classes in science or math by the time they graduate and so on and so forth, as determined by the faculty. Choice is a good thing, but too much of a good thing can be harmful. The lack of structure can be very stressful for undergraduate students who think they know what they want to do. If Amherst is for dabbling, please someone make me dabble.
Max Rosen '07
Bubblism prevents serious thinking
Like the victims of a particularly unethical psych experiment, the residents of the Waldorf dorm have been shocked repeatedly over the past week. About 10 days ago, a disturbing message appeared on resident Steve Ibara's dry-erase board. It was a cartoon of a cow speaking the words, "Joooos aren't human." Several times over the next few days, Steve and I, along with a few others, made valiant efforts to erase the hateful message. But every time we rubbed it out, its author would write it again, each time with an additional "o."
Clearly, this bovine pronouncement is not quite "Mein Kampf." But it still tells us something disturbing about the college we live in. Amherst students frequently describe what they call an "Amherst bubble," whereby, since our campus is sheltered from many of the harsh realities of the world, we don't care about important issues out there. For supporters of the bubble theory, this incident has two implications. The first is a vindication: we live in a bubble, and like Seinfeld's Bubble Boy when we are confronted with the contagions of the outside world, our reaction is especially strong. But the second implication should give "bubble" proponents pause. In a real sense, we don't live in a bubble and we are not insulated from all difficulties. We have our problems, and suggesting that we live in a "bubble" serves to distract us from the real issues we face.
The graffiti in the mods is one striking example of the troubles bubblism obscures. The sentiment itself is the most obvious problem. It's not okay for Jews to feel their peers don't give them a basic modicum of respect. Even though I am Jewish, I feel the same way about insensitivity towards any other group on campus: "Athletes are doooomb," "debaters are oooogly" or "people who don't perform well on standardized tests are stoooopid," would have been equally unacceptable. Also causing concern was the weird sense of humor. Did someone really think the "Jews"/"Moo" pun was even mildly entertaining? Did someone think it was ever funny to denigrate someone else's ethnicity? It's hard to believe, but it seems someone did. We need to do something about this. My personal recommendation would be a seminar or lecture at orientation on humor sensitivity. Some things are just not funny, and if it's within our power to stop a student from bringing his collection of Rape of Nanking jokes onto campus, we should do it.
By luring serious thinkers into believing that there is nothing serious about the campus, the bubble theory prevents us from addressing a number of serious issues. The "Joooo"-ish problem is just one of them. Why don't we have meaningful discussions of how nasty the food is, how unfair room draw is and how my goddamn computer is broken? World peace, shmorld peace; social justice, shmocial justice: we've got plenty to take care of in our supposedly idyllic, bubbalicious enclave, and that's what we should be thinking about.
Dave Gottlieb '06