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How We Learn
When I first met Emmett, he was pudgy-cheeked, pale-faced, and empty-headed, or so I thought. My father and I had been assembling a bookcase in my freshman-year dorm room. Emmett knocked on the door, single barbell in hand, to introduce himself to my parents and me as my floor's Undergraduate Advisor. Playing by the rules set by his employer, the Office of Residential Life, Emmett guided the freshman in his charge in a round of insipid introductory games later that week. Having handed my hall-mates and I piles of candies, Emmett instructed us to share one detail about ourselves for each. Only the misconception that the meeting was mandatory prevented me from fleeing Emmett's room that evening, candies or no. Over that year, skepticism-Emmett didn't drink, didn't stay out late at night, floundered among women, and led these asinine administrative games-gave way to respect, as he and I debated topics from religion (he is Catholic) to identity politics to abortion to literature and music. And our debates became, increasingly, agreements, as each informed the other on the topics he knew best. Still, now, we disagree on a myriad of topics that we've argued into the ground, but it has been this constructive disagreement that, over the past three years, has made each of us the richer. Though he and I will never agree on universal health-care, for example, his position, perhaps more generous than mine, is one I have grown to understand with great depth and no longer dismiss simply out-of-hand. And our agreement has been no less rewarding, as, for instance, we've laughed at the odd-ball antics of California politicians attempting to reconcile their failed energy policies with a future that looks similarly-doomed. Though we've never shared a class, Emmett and I have learned together, in ways and of topics far beyond the bounds of classroom experience. As Dartmouth's Trustees wrote two years ago, in their announcement of the Student Life Initiative, social relationships are (not "should be") "an integral part of a comprehensive learning environment." Unfortunately, nearly every official action taken since-all in the name of bolstering "intellectual and personal growth" outside of the classroom-has run counter to that very cause. Except in perverse second-hand effects, the College has worked single-mindedly to stifle a vibrant intellectual community. And, they tell us, we've just set out on the road of "implementation." Growth-both personal and intellectual-isn't always the clean and orderly business depicted in, say, College photographer Joseph Mehling's bright wide-angles of smiling and diverse students huddled on the Hanover Green. For College students, the post-adolescent period is a difficult one, in which one confronts how he is meant to mesh into society beyond the brick walls of academic existence. It is a time of over-exuberance, when one's limits become stunningly clear, of breathless highs and crushing lows. We reveal, to others and ourselves, our true abilities and beliefs in the most trying of circumstances, whether hopelessly mired in unrequited love or merely sunk in alcohol and scholarly obligation. Experience is still vivid, responsibility still new: thus we learn, because the stakes are high but the consequences relatively few. Or at least they were until recently. The mood on campus has shifted from the days when students were radical and the administration conservative. Now things are hopelessly muddled. A small group of students, as always, is at the vanguard of change-at any cost. They protest for harsh sanctions for fraternities whose members have sneezed in the direction of minority groups, for sororities whose sisterhoods are built on the basis of mutual choice-by each member, by each house. What's odd is the complicity between these students and the administration they cajole: their goals are eerily aligned, the checking of student civil liberties. The readily-wielded rallying cries of "racist" and "sexist" silence students from speaking their minds, from publicly holding unpopular views, from humor, and, put together, from fostering an environment of mutual learning and respect. My friend Emmett stood up at a rally organized by these "students for change" earlier in the term to express his views, which run counter to those of the protestors, on what constitutes an appropriate response to offence. He was heckled: "Racist," accused several. "Shut up" and "Sit down," yelled others. One screamed, "Fuck free speech." The unwillingness to even listen to another's opinion is counter to learning, to growth. Nobody's opinion is changed, nobody learns to respect another's point of view, nobody benefits. But, oddly enough, in the trenches the College has been employing the same strategy. The Psi Upsilon fraternity was sanctioned for several of its members yelling "Wah-Hoo-Wah," an old college cheer. There was no opportunity for those involved to explain what the cheer means to them and why they were yelling it. A spectator was offended and that, unfortunately, has become enough to silence all debate. The Zeta Psi fraternity published a newsletter of crude jokes and sexual satire, much of it, to those outside the fraternity, mean-spirited. The fraternity was convicted, by Dean of Residential Life Martin Redman, of harassment and was derecognized by the College, thrown off of campus. Offense, however, is not tantamount to harassment, and the greatest long-term effect of the College's hackneyed decision will be to chill campus debate and discussion. It is now safer to read a book or watch television than to debate another student on slavery reparations, lest one be labeled a "racist harasser" and so punished. It is safer to do the crossword than to protest something legitimately controversial, like the male-baiting programs of the College-financed Women's Resource Center. Students are now "free" to speak their minds on any subject and in any way that doesn't harass, but when a simple difference of opinion constitutes harassment, students aren't free to speak their minds at all. So, is the College working to meet its espoused goals? Do the actions match the rhetoric? From what we've seen so far, the answers are clear: they are not; they do not. Learning-molding young men into men and young women into women-has taken a back seat to the trendy theories of the day and destructive identity politics. The same arrogance has led the College to believe that it can define "offense," quantify "harassment," and dictate student's out-of-classroom lives. Not all that need be learned can so easily be taught. But, though the Trustees recognize and admit that all growth cannot take place within the cornered confines of the classroom, the administration thinks it would do to simply hold class outside. Though it may be more difficult than before, students can still learn from one another. It is unfortunate, however, that such must be done in defiance of the College. — Andrew Grossman |
