This is the final "Stuff Tufts People Like" column published in the Tufts Daily during the Spring semester of 2009. There is a commencement issue, to be published May 17 (commencement), with one more column from yours truly in it, but this is the last thing most readers will see from me.
The Bubble
Published: Tuesday, April 21, 2009
If you spend most of your time at Tufts and rarely venture off campus for anything more than a latte at Starbucks or a movie in Davis Square, you might become convinced that there no longer is a world outside the gates of our Medford/Somerville campus. Even if you regularly visit, shop and dine all around the Boston area, it’s easy to forget what real life away from Tufts is like. It happens to me on occasion. I get stuck in a routine: wake up, go to class, club meetings, anti-bias rallies, party on the weekend, then repeat ad nauseum. It can be difficult to keep in touch with what happens in the “real world” when we’re so insulated inside the Tufts Bubble.
Likewise, people can forget societal norms and the way things tend to work elsewhere when they are at Tufts for long stretches. When I go home for a weekend or for break, I’m often surprised that my friends do, in fact, say words like “fag” without a second thought about the impact it might have. After freshman year, I got in a serious argument with a good friend of mine over his use of that word because after living at Tufts, I knew that it promoted societal bigotry and heteronormativity (a word that, honestly, I have never heard outside of Tufts).
Then, as I became re-attuned to the norms of my hometown, I started thinking that if he wanted to use “fag” as an insult after I had laid out my arguments against it, I really had no place to tell him otherwise. Unlike Tufts, the real world — in my experience, at least — doesn’t have a bias awareness team; there is no thought police, and so slurs which really hurt people are occasionally uttered.
I’m not sure that I made the right decision to overlook future uses of the word, but I was concerned that I was starting arguments for the wrong reasons — I was never personally offended by the word “faggot,” but I still thought I should try to stop it from being used, for whatever reason. Doesn’t it feel good to accuse someone of bigotry? I enjoyed it, I really did. The moral indignation and self-righteousness just flowing through your veins — you feel empowered, like you’ve grabbed the higher ground and you’re not giving it up. In that moment, it feels good to be angry because you’re right, the “other” is wrong, and you’re fighting the good fight.
This is what occurred with many of those at the anti-bias, anti-drunk-freshman rally on Thursday. Even people from outside Tufts came and basked in the glow of righteous indignation emanating from people at the rally who take any and every opportunity to get angry and offended, regardless of whether they themselves have been specifically targeted. It becomes like an addiction — if you’re not decrying racism or sexism or whatever the -ism of the day is, you start to feel adrift and without direction. But that doesn’t justify the idiotic behavior being exhibited.
The real anger we have all seen in the pages of the Daily and at the rally wasn’t, in my opinion, over the alleged racial violence that occurred two weeks ago. It was about puncturing the Bubble. Let’s admit: Most of us are very proud to tell people that we go to Tufts, and when something like this happens, it betrays the image most of us have of our school. We think we go to a progressive, unbiased university that is not only not racist, it’s anti-racist.
So, when I write a column that questions the campus’ reaction to a particular incident that seems extremely clear-cut to some, I become a target. I’ve been ridiculed for my opinions in any number of ways and called terrible names that I won’t repeat in print, but the only comments that bothered me were those that suggested that there must be some unknown reason belying my opinions, whether it was my own race, my lack of education or sheer ignorance. I was told to take classes, read books, and even invited to meet by some readers, all in the interest of enlightening me and/or converting me to buy into every bit of liberal orthodoxy that Tufts represents to these individuals.
Want to know a secret? I have read books. I’ve taken classes that deal very explicitly with racism and discrimination, and I can’t control my whiteness any more than the Korean Students Association students who were involved in the fight can control their race. The fact that I have a different point of view doesn’t mean that I don’t know or understand the issues, and this assumption that I must be unaware of critical race theory because I don’t buy into it really bothers me.
This punctured my Tufts Bubble. I foolishly thought that, while Tufts has many viewpoints and a variety of backgrounds represented on campus, mutual respect exists which makes discussing and acknowledging our differences so fruitful and beneficial. I also was under the (apparently ridiculous) impression that no one’s view would be disregarded or given less credence because of his or her background — even if that background is straight, white and male. It turns out that I was wrong.
Showing posts with label column. Show all posts
Showing posts with label column. Show all posts
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Alleging Bias
This article discusses the issues surround an altercation, the events of which can be learned about here. This is the one that made me famous (sort of), and also probably the most hated guy on campus, for a little while at least. Check out the comments (and myriad op-eds in response).
Published: Tuesday, April 14, 2009
By now, everyone on campus has heard about the alleged “bias incident” that occurred in Lewis Hall last week involving a dance group from the Korean Students Association (KSA) and a drunk freshman. Personally, I got multiple e-mails from friends and one from Dean of Students Bruce Reitman, and an invitation to a Facebook group (which at last count had 1,824 members), and I came across multiple Facebook “notes” about the situation.
I’m not going to rehash the story. It’s been told many times, with input from both sides. My question, though, is this: What makes this a bias incident? Was there “bias” when the drunk kid started imitating the dance the KSA was doing? Maybe — they were, after all, practicing a dance for a cultural show and not just an average, mainstream dance for an average, mainstream show; if TDC were rehearsing and the incident proceeded similarly, I don’t think it would be called a bias incident, and I doubt people would be quite so up in arms about the situation in general, but I’ll get to that.
Was it a bias incident because of what the kid said? He allegedly employed racial slurs to verbally abuse the dancers after the physical altercation had ended, calling them names and telling them to “go back to China.” I suppose this makes what up until then would have been considered merely a fight or, depending on which side you fall, assault, into an incident of racial bias. I know what you’re thinking: Well, duh. But think — what do the kid’s words after a fight have to do with the apparent motivations for the fight?
Before the violence began — we’re not sure who made the situation physical, although I’m inclined to believe the KSA members as they corroborate each others’ stories and they were sober — there was no mention of race or ethnicity. According to the Daily, the freshman allegedly called the dance “gay,” but most of us have been in groups where using that word as a placeholder for “stupid” or “bad” is common. That doesn’t make it acceptable, but it happens all the time, and the student body doesn’t get up in arms over something like that. In any event, no epithets were uttered, and no racial threats or comments were made before the violence began.
With these facts in mind, I find it hard to call what happened a bias incident; there was bias, and there was a conflict, but they seem somewhat disjointed. I’m really disconcerted by the focus on comments that were made at the tail end of the incident as a whole when a lot occurred beforehand that’s worthy of our attention. All signs point to serious physical violence with injuries sustained on both sides. And then — afterward — a drunk freshman allegedly said something stupid and yes, offensive, inappropriate, “biased” and totally unacceptable. I’m not here to defend this kid who, for the record, I don’t know and have never met. I don’t know any of the people involved, for that matter.
The real issue here isn’t racial insensitivity. It’s not “bias,” no matter how you define the word. We should be talking about violence and resorting to violence as a solution to our problems. My biggest worry is not a stupid comment that was obviously hurtful enough to raise a ridiculous furor at Tufts. Tufts people love an uproar, but apparently we also like overlooking the real issue. There’s no evidence the attack was motivated by racial anger or “bias,” but it’s obvious that both the freshman student and the five KSA members thought it totally acceptable to use violence to solve their dispute. I don’t want to discount the danger and perniciousness of racism, but it’s more worrisome to me that violence has so pervaded our school and our society that we find a racial slur more notable than a serious violent conflict.
Published: Tuesday, April 14, 2009
By now, everyone on campus has heard about the alleged “bias incident” that occurred in Lewis Hall last week involving a dance group from the Korean Students Association (KSA) and a drunk freshman. Personally, I got multiple e-mails from friends and one from Dean of Students Bruce Reitman, and an invitation to a Facebook group (which at last count had 1,824 members), and I came across multiple Facebook “notes” about the situation.
I’m not going to rehash the story. It’s been told many times, with input from both sides. My question, though, is this: What makes this a bias incident? Was there “bias” when the drunk kid started imitating the dance the KSA was doing? Maybe — they were, after all, practicing a dance for a cultural show and not just an average, mainstream dance for an average, mainstream show; if TDC were rehearsing and the incident proceeded similarly, I don’t think it would be called a bias incident, and I doubt people would be quite so up in arms about the situation in general, but I’ll get to that.
Was it a bias incident because of what the kid said? He allegedly employed racial slurs to verbally abuse the dancers after the physical altercation had ended, calling them names and telling them to “go back to China.” I suppose this makes what up until then would have been considered merely a fight or, depending on which side you fall, assault, into an incident of racial bias. I know what you’re thinking: Well, duh. But think — what do the kid’s words after a fight have to do with the apparent motivations for the fight?
Before the violence began — we’re not sure who made the situation physical, although I’m inclined to believe the KSA members as they corroborate each others’ stories and they were sober — there was no mention of race or ethnicity. According to the Daily, the freshman allegedly called the dance “gay,” but most of us have been in groups where using that word as a placeholder for “stupid” or “bad” is common. That doesn’t make it acceptable, but it happens all the time, and the student body doesn’t get up in arms over something like that. In any event, no epithets were uttered, and no racial threats or comments were made before the violence began.
With these facts in mind, I find it hard to call what happened a bias incident; there was bias, and there was a conflict, but they seem somewhat disjointed. I’m really disconcerted by the focus on comments that were made at the tail end of the incident as a whole when a lot occurred beforehand that’s worthy of our attention. All signs point to serious physical violence with injuries sustained on both sides. And then — afterward — a drunk freshman allegedly said something stupid and yes, offensive, inappropriate, “biased” and totally unacceptable. I’m not here to defend this kid who, for the record, I don’t know and have never met. I don’t know any of the people involved, for that matter.
The real issue here isn’t racial insensitivity. It’s not “bias,” no matter how you define the word. We should be talking about violence and resorting to violence as a solution to our problems. My biggest worry is not a stupid comment that was obviously hurtful enough to raise a ridiculous furor at Tufts. Tufts people love an uproar, but apparently we also like overlooking the real issue. There’s no evidence the attack was motivated by racial anger or “bias,” but it’s obvious that both the freshman student and the five KSA members thought it totally acceptable to use violence to solve their dispute. I don’t want to discount the danger and perniciousness of racism, but it’s more worrisome to me that violence has so pervaded our school and our society that we find a racial slur more notable than a serious violent conflict.
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Cliques (a lousy title, I'll admit)
This column definitely got the...most interesting reaction on the Daily website. Check out the comments here.
Published: Tuesday, April 7, 2009
As a resident assistant in a freshman residence hall last year, I had to make and put up name tags on each door before freshmen moved in. As move-in day approached and more upperclassmen arrived to help with orientation, I noticed that a few doors had something else posted next to the name tags that I had painstakingly created. On my floor these included welcome and invitation messages for international students, African-Americans, and Hispanics. The messages included encouragements for students to stop by the Africana Center or other locations for the respective groups and contact information for a potential mentor of a similar background.
At the time, I was curious but not really bothered by these messages. My thought was that it’s really not my place to pass judgment on overtures from and within communities that I don’t belong to and can’t identify with. Tufts people, including those mentioned above, have this need to belong — naturally. But the need here is more than just membership in a group of friends or even in a larger group with which they can identify.
Tufts people love belonging to a minority group or, at the very least, a group that at one point has been discriminated against. I’m going to call this a thirst for victimhood. Me? I tried pretty hard to find a maligned group that I could be a part of, but I’m a straight white male from Connecticut, I don’t identify with any religious sect, nor do I have particularly outrageous political views (although I have conservative friends who might disagree). I also wonder if there are some Republicans on this campus who are really moderates in disguise — political affiliation or beliefs can be an outlet for the thirst for victimhood too.
The interesting thing isn’t wanting to belong to a group of similar peers; psychologically and sociologically, it makes sense for a minority individual to seek out other minority group members within a larger group with whom they can identify. My concern is the self-segregation of these cliques, where groups typically don’t mix and “outsiders” aren’t welcome. We can have diversity, but it’s meaningless without social interaction.
I’m not talking about affirmative action or anything to do with admissions — it’s the orientation process and the Dean of Students’ Office’s explicit focus on encouraging cliques that concerns me. The Group of Six is comprised of the Africana Center, Asian American Center, International Center, Latino Center, Lesbian Gay Bisexual Transgender (LGBT) Center, and Women’s Center. The centers are under the auspices of Dean Reitman’s office and also receive funding directly from his office. In their defense, the Group of Six houses mainly hosts events that are at least nominally open to all members of the Tufts community regardless of race, ethnicity, gender, or sexual orientation. Sometimes this is true in practice, too — I’ve availed myself of the delicious food at several barbecues at the Africana and LGBT centers. But that isn’t really the point, is it?
Why is the Dean of Student Affairs pushing self-segregation within the student body? I applaud efforts from the Group of Six to make Tufts a welcoming environment for students from groups that have faced historical and often current discrimination, and I’m not trying to make an attack on these groups individually or the students involved. My problem, instead, is the compartmentalization and yes, segregation, albeit voluntary. What’s the benefit of diversity if everyone is separated?
Published: Tuesday, April 7, 2009
As a resident assistant in a freshman residence hall last year, I had to make and put up name tags on each door before freshmen moved in. As move-in day approached and more upperclassmen arrived to help with orientation, I noticed that a few doors had something else posted next to the name tags that I had painstakingly created. On my floor these included welcome and invitation messages for international students, African-Americans, and Hispanics. The messages included encouragements for students to stop by the Africana Center or other locations for the respective groups and contact information for a potential mentor of a similar background.
At the time, I was curious but not really bothered by these messages. My thought was that it’s really not my place to pass judgment on overtures from and within communities that I don’t belong to and can’t identify with. Tufts people, including those mentioned above, have this need to belong — naturally. But the need here is more than just membership in a group of friends or even in a larger group with which they can identify.
Tufts people love belonging to a minority group or, at the very least, a group that at one point has been discriminated against. I’m going to call this a thirst for victimhood. Me? I tried pretty hard to find a maligned group that I could be a part of, but I’m a straight white male from Connecticut, I don’t identify with any religious sect, nor do I have particularly outrageous political views (although I have conservative friends who might disagree). I also wonder if there are some Republicans on this campus who are really moderates in disguise — political affiliation or beliefs can be an outlet for the thirst for victimhood too.
The interesting thing isn’t wanting to belong to a group of similar peers; psychologically and sociologically, it makes sense for a minority individual to seek out other minority group members within a larger group with whom they can identify. My concern is the self-segregation of these cliques, where groups typically don’t mix and “outsiders” aren’t welcome. We can have diversity, but it’s meaningless without social interaction.
I’m not talking about affirmative action or anything to do with admissions — it’s the orientation process and the Dean of Students’ Office’s explicit focus on encouraging cliques that concerns me. The Group of Six is comprised of the Africana Center, Asian American Center, International Center, Latino Center, Lesbian Gay Bisexual Transgender (LGBT) Center, and Women’s Center. The centers are under the auspices of Dean Reitman’s office and also receive funding directly from his office. In their defense, the Group of Six houses mainly hosts events that are at least nominally open to all members of the Tufts community regardless of race, ethnicity, gender, or sexual orientation. Sometimes this is true in practice, too — I’ve availed myself of the delicious food at several barbecues at the Africana and LGBT centers. But that isn’t really the point, is it?
Why is the Dean of Student Affairs pushing self-segregation within the student body? I applaud efforts from the Group of Six to make Tufts a welcoming environment for students from groups that have faced historical and often current discrimination, and I’m not trying to make an attack on these groups individually or the students involved. My problem, instead, is the compartmentalization and yes, segregation, albeit voluntary. What’s the benefit of diversity if everyone is separated?
Column 3/31: Wingnuttery
Wingnuttery
Published: Tuesday, March 31, 2009
People at Tufts love thinking that they are the first to have an idea or hold a particular position, but if that’s not a tenable stance, Tufts people act this out by staking out extreme positions. This is particularly popular when it comes to politics. There aren’t a lot of moderate Democrats or conservative leaners, but there are lots of people who could be called radical. Conservatives at Tufts especially like to venture into wingnut territory.
Enter David Horowitz, wingnut extraordinaire, who came to campus on Monday to discuss ... well, since this column was submitted before his speech, I’m going to make up what he said, and feel free to fact-check me when I exaggerate or blatantly fabricate things (which is possible, but probably unnecessary given the subject matter*). The planned topic of his talk, given in Barnum 008 at 8:30 last night, was academic freedom. As a liberal peace and justice studies major, I have an odd feeling that he’s not that worried about my academic freedom.
You might remember Horowitz’s name from Islamo-Fascism Awareness Week, organized by Horowitz, which brought Daniel Pipes to campus. The gist of the week was not only to raise awareness of Islamic terrorism itself, but also to highlight what he perceived as leftist support for terror.
Besides nobly raising consciousness of the threat from Islamo-Fascism — a term that I don’t quite understand, to be honest — Horowitz has been working on academic freedom for years. When I hear “academic freedom,” I picture unfettered class discussions and a general atmosphere of open and unconditional exchange of ideas. Horowitz’s conception of the term is a bit different. In addition to blaming them for terrorism, he derides left-leaning academics for indoctrinating students rather than teaching them. For Horowitz, academic freedom means hewing to a strict conservative ideology.
To prove his claims of liberal bias in higher education, Horowitz probably told a story about a student at the University of Northern Colorado who was supposedly failed for refusing to write a paper arguing that George W. Bush was a war criminal. Well, as it turns out, the story is pure fantasy. The university disputes each piece of the story, including the assignment, the grade, and the reasons for the grade. He may have also talked about a Penn State biology class which showed Fahrenheit 9/11 (2004) before the 2004 elections, with the professor hoping to influence his students’ votes. Later, he admitted that this story couldn’t be verified and maybe could be untrue — which is the best we can hope for from Horowitz.
Unlike him, I have no problem with anyone speaking on campus — academic freedom, what it actually means, allows Horowitz to have a voice here. Good for him. But maybe we should warn him: His arch-nemesis Noam Chomsky was here this past Friday, speaking to a peace conference. In April 2005 at Columbia University, Horowitz distributed pamphlets portraying Chomsky, a linguistics professor at MIT, with a turban and long beard and the heading “The Ayatollah of Anti-American Hate.” I’ve met Noam Chomsky — he has extreme political views, certainly, but he’s really a nice, mild-mannered guy, and he’s certainly not a Muslim — not that there’s anything wrong with that. What point is Horowitz trying to make by dressing his foe in Middle Eastern garb? Unlike Horowitz, Chomsky doesn’t rely on theatrics or overblown rhetoric to make a point, and he doesn’t engage in attacks based on race or ethnicity — something else I bet you heard from Horowitz on Monday. That kind of “academic freedom” has no place at Tufts
Published: Tuesday, March 31, 2009
People at Tufts love thinking that they are the first to have an idea or hold a particular position, but if that’s not a tenable stance, Tufts people act this out by staking out extreme positions. This is particularly popular when it comes to politics. There aren’t a lot of moderate Democrats or conservative leaners, but there are lots of people who could be called radical. Conservatives at Tufts especially like to venture into wingnut territory.
Enter David Horowitz, wingnut extraordinaire, who came to campus on Monday to discuss ... well, since this column was submitted before his speech, I’m going to make up what he said, and feel free to fact-check me when I exaggerate or blatantly fabricate things (which is possible, but probably unnecessary given the subject matter*). The planned topic of his talk, given in Barnum 008 at 8:30 last night, was academic freedom. As a liberal peace and justice studies major, I have an odd feeling that he’s not that worried about my academic freedom.
You might remember Horowitz’s name from Islamo-Fascism Awareness Week, organized by Horowitz, which brought Daniel Pipes to campus. The gist of the week was not only to raise awareness of Islamic terrorism itself, but also to highlight what he perceived as leftist support for terror.
Besides nobly raising consciousness of the threat from Islamo-Fascism — a term that I don’t quite understand, to be honest — Horowitz has been working on academic freedom for years. When I hear “academic freedom,” I picture unfettered class discussions and a general atmosphere of open and unconditional exchange of ideas. Horowitz’s conception of the term is a bit different. In addition to blaming them for terrorism, he derides left-leaning academics for indoctrinating students rather than teaching them. For Horowitz, academic freedom means hewing to a strict conservative ideology.
To prove his claims of liberal bias in higher education, Horowitz probably told a story about a student at the University of Northern Colorado who was supposedly failed for refusing to write a paper arguing that George W. Bush was a war criminal. Well, as it turns out, the story is pure fantasy. The university disputes each piece of the story, including the assignment, the grade, and the reasons for the grade. He may have also talked about a Penn State biology class which showed Fahrenheit 9/11 (2004) before the 2004 elections, with the professor hoping to influence his students’ votes. Later, he admitted that this story couldn’t be verified and maybe could be untrue — which is the best we can hope for from Horowitz.
Unlike him, I have no problem with anyone speaking on campus — academic freedom, what it actually means, allows Horowitz to have a voice here. Good for him. But maybe we should warn him: His arch-nemesis Noam Chomsky was here this past Friday, speaking to a peace conference. In April 2005 at Columbia University, Horowitz distributed pamphlets portraying Chomsky, a linguistics professor at MIT, with a turban and long beard and the heading “The Ayatollah of Anti-American Hate.” I’ve met Noam Chomsky — he has extreme political views, certainly, but he’s really a nice, mild-mannered guy, and he’s certainly not a Muslim — not that there’s anything wrong with that. What point is Horowitz trying to make by dressing his foe in Middle Eastern garb? Unlike Horowitz, Chomsky doesn’t rely on theatrics or overblown rhetoric to make a point, and he doesn’t engage in attacks based on race or ethnicity — something else I bet you heard from Horowitz on Monday. That kind of “academic freedom” has no place at Tufts
Column 3/24
Organic food
Published: Tuesday, March 24, 2009
With Michael Pollan coming to campus today to give the Richard E. Snyder lecture, I decided it was time to address a glaring gap in knowledge that many Tufts people seem to have. It's about food. Organic food. Michael Pollan will almost certainly shed some light on this issue, and more intelligently than I ever could, but since the Daily comes out before the lecture, I get first dibs.
Lots of people assume that organic food is healthier, more ethical, better for the environment and, in nearly every way, superior to food without that organic label. But what does organic really mean? If you're walking through Shaw's or any other grocery store, how do you make a decision between the bananas with the organic sticker and those without? They look the same and taste the same to me; to most consumers, the only noticeable difference is the price and that sticker.
Organic food, according to the USDA, is free of chemical fertilizers and insecticides, does not contain genetically modified ingredients and is free of hormones and antibiotics. Well, mostly. In fact, food that carries the USDA organic label is only required to be 95 percent organic; that is, a product can display the label if everything in it is organic except a small amount. Products with between 70 and 95 percent organic ingredients can display an alternate label that promises "made with organic ingredients."
This still sounds good, right? Organic food is good for a number of purposes -- if you want your food to be friendlier to the environment, for example, organic seems like the way to go. No pesticides or insecticides means organic food must be great for the environment, right? Sort of. If you really hope to reduce the carbon footprint from your diet, experts agree that locally grown food is the best way to go. Likewise, a vegetarian or vegan diet would have a significantly lower impact on the environment than even an organic, locally grown omnivore diet.
Perhaps you eat organic food because you're concerned about the way animals are treated before they are slaughtered. I'm not a vegetarian, but it occurs to me that if you are concerned about cruelty to animals, you probably shouldn't be eating steak at all -- even if the beef is organic. But organic meat isn't necessarily raised in a more humane way than other types of meat. Animals must be given time outdoors; how much time is left up to the farmers. And, interestingly enough, much controversy has arisen over the organic labeling process itself. Inspections are contracted out by the USDA, and oversight is minimal at best.
This begs the question: Is organic food safer or better for you? This is the third and arguably final potential reason for selecting organic products. Around the beginning of February, there was an outbreak of salmonella in peanut products. The contamination was traced back to factories in Texas and Georgia that were found to be totally unsanitary but, according to the USDA, organic. Some of your favorite organic companies like Clif Bar and Cascadian Farm had items that were contaminated with salmonella and pulled from shelves.
So should you buy organic? Sure, if you can afford it. Organic food is generally safer, though not always, and the label does require all-natural fertilizers and pesticides, which is good. But if you have the choice, buy local AND organic. Try to limit the meat you eat in order to improve health and reduce your carbon footprint. And lastly, as Michael Pollan will surely explain, stop eating processed food-like substances and stick to fresh produce as much as possible.
Being Busy
Next column
Being busy
Will Ehrenfeld
Published: Tuesday, March 10, 2009
OMG! It's the week before spring break, and I can't believe how much work I have to do in one week! This is so ridiculous; I don't even understand how any five professors in the world could assign so much work in such a short period of time. Don't they know that I have 32 club meetings and a study group to go to this week? I am crazy busy and it's out of control!
Just kidding. I'm only a little busy, but as a Tufts student, I feel this strange urge to act busy all the time. Don't get me wrong, I often have a lot of work and meetings and rehearsals and -- you know -- other stuff, and my life gets as hectic as anyone's ... but I deal with it. I have a hard time understanding how so many of my friends and acquaintances at this school manufacture ways to keep busy. It's shocking, really, because I love having free time. I was busy this weekend, though. Between waking up at noon, watching television, playing online poker, picking up dinner and stopping by a few parties, Saturday was an extremely full day. But you don't hear me complaining.
My housemate Kevin is a perfect example. He is up and out of the house before me every morning -- not a difficult feat by any stretch of the imagination -- and he's never home before 9 p.m. He doesn't sleep, either. I don't know exactly what classes he takes or all the clubs he's involved in; we talk about being busy more than anything substantive. What does he do all day and night? I can't figure it out exactly, but my guess is that he's either a drug mule or a horse whisperer (what a great movie), or possibly a combination of the two. The point is that he, like so many of our peers, invents ways to be busy and fill all 24 hours of the day with activity, even if it's meaningless -- not that drug smuggling and horse whispering aren't worthwhile pursuits.
Tufts people are also excellent at one-upping each other about the amount of work they have. I have stopped talking to other students entirely about my workload, because it just makes me feel like I'm not working very hard (and I've always taken 4.5 to 5.5 credits).
Oh, you've got a test and a 20-page paper due this week? Well, your friend has three tests and an Arabic composition. And that's not all: I know a girl who has two 15-page papers, a math test and a quiz in econometrics. I imagine Kevin has twice that much work anyway, so she shouldn't get a big head about her workload, either.
I'm not sure if it's some sort of sadistic characteristic or just the underground competitiveness of Tufts shining through in a curious way, but this is a ridiculous part of this school that I can't wrap my head around. Is it a coping mechanism? Maybe if you keep running around like a chicken with your head cut off, you won't actually have to worry about the real problems you have. Perhaps talking about having a lot of work is another method for procrastination -- if you're talking about midterms, you certainly aren't studying for them. Of course, this is counterproductive and, in fact, exacerbating the problems of constantly being busy because you're wasting time talking about being busy. It's ironic, really. I have a feeling, though, that this is one part of most students' schedules that won't get skipped over in favor of more work or studying.
Being busy
Will Ehrenfeld
Published: Tuesday, March 10, 2009
OMG! It's the week before spring break, and I can't believe how much work I have to do in one week! This is so ridiculous; I don't even understand how any five professors in the world could assign so much work in such a short period of time. Don't they know that I have 32 club meetings and a study group to go to this week? I am crazy busy and it's out of control!
Just kidding. I'm only a little busy, but as a Tufts student, I feel this strange urge to act busy all the time. Don't get me wrong, I often have a lot of work and meetings and rehearsals and -- you know -- other stuff, and my life gets as hectic as anyone's ... but I deal with it. I have a hard time understanding how so many of my friends and acquaintances at this school manufacture ways to keep busy. It's shocking, really, because I love having free time. I was busy this weekend, though. Between waking up at noon, watching television, playing online poker, picking up dinner and stopping by a few parties, Saturday was an extremely full day. But you don't hear me complaining.
My housemate Kevin is a perfect example. He is up and out of the house before me every morning -- not a difficult feat by any stretch of the imagination -- and he's never home before 9 p.m. He doesn't sleep, either. I don't know exactly what classes he takes or all the clubs he's involved in; we talk about being busy more than anything substantive. What does he do all day and night? I can't figure it out exactly, but my guess is that he's either a drug mule or a horse whisperer (what a great movie), or possibly a combination of the two. The point is that he, like so many of our peers, invents ways to be busy and fill all 24 hours of the day with activity, even if it's meaningless -- not that drug smuggling and horse whispering aren't worthwhile pursuits.
Tufts people are also excellent at one-upping each other about the amount of work they have. I have stopped talking to other students entirely about my workload, because it just makes me feel like I'm not working very hard (and I've always taken 4.5 to 5.5 credits).
Oh, you've got a test and a 20-page paper due this week? Well, your friend has three tests and an Arabic composition. And that's not all: I know a girl who has two 15-page papers, a math test and a quiz in econometrics. I imagine Kevin has twice that much work anyway, so she shouldn't get a big head about her workload, either.
I'm not sure if it's some sort of sadistic characteristic or just the underground competitiveness of Tufts shining through in a curious way, but this is a ridiculous part of this school that I can't wrap my head around. Is it a coping mechanism? Maybe if you keep running around like a chicken with your head cut off, you won't actually have to worry about the real problems you have. Perhaps talking about having a lot of work is another method for procrastination -- if you're talking about midterms, you certainly aren't studying for them. Of course, this is counterproductive and, in fact, exacerbating the problems of constantly being busy because you're wasting time talking about being busy. It's ironic, really. I have a feeling, though, that this is one part of most students' schedules that won't get skipped over in favor of more work or studying.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
My Column, 3/3/09
Trying to hide their wealth
Will Ehrenfeld
Published: Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Recently, TCU President Duncan Pickard wrote a really interesting letter to the editor, attempting to bring up issues of class on campus and encouraging conversations about the subject at Tufts. I wholeheartedly agree with his idea in this case and am grateful that the topic has been raised. Yet there are some pretty serious flaws in his letter, and I need, on one hand, to correct him and on the other, to discuss a few ideas that are not explicitly related.
At our great university, as with many of its peers, the student body comes from a primarily upper-class background. That’s just a factual statement. Only 41 percent of undergraduates receive financial aid from Tufts, and usually financial aid comes at least partially in the form of loans and work study jobs rather than direct grants. And, to be ineligible for financial aid, you either need to have a lot of money in the bank or parents who are taking in a very significant income — or more likely both. If you’re not getting financial help from Tufts, you’re not middle class. There might be a bit of debate about that term, middle class, and what it really means. Part of it is cultural and social, sure, but there are numbers here to look at. What do you think is middle class? Where do we draw the lines delineating upper middle class and simply rich?
Maybe for an average household, a $100,000 annual income is roughly middle class. That sounds right, doesn’t it? Well, in 2006, the top quintile (20 percent) of households made $91,705 or above, so that could hardly put someone in the proverbial (not to mention literal) middle. Let’s try $60,000; I know, you couldn’t afford that new Lacoste polo or spring break in Europe for your whole entire family with that amount, but some people can survive on $60,000. In fact, 60 percent of American households manage to scrape by with $60,000 or less. It gets worse: Lots of people barely have enough money to afford the rent and the grocery bill, let alone private school tuition or that new car. The median household income in the United States as recorded by the U.S. Census Bureau in 2007 was $50,223. That’s barely enough to cover a year at Tufts.
With those numbers in mind, let’s look at Tufts. Most people at Tufts are clearly not middle class, no matter how you slice it. Whether the middle class is defined as the middle 20 percent or 60 percent, Tufts students are well outside the national average. You could consider yourself middle class — a large majority of Americans do — but we as a student body are on the whole extremely wealthy and from privileged backgrounds. If only 41 percent of students here receive Tufts financial aid, that means the other 59 percent must come from places where money really is no object. You need to be in the top quintile in terms of income to even come close to being above the threshold for financial aid. That’s a lot of money.
Also, the way somebody dresses is typically not correlated with class. Maybe that Louis Vuitton bag sticks out, but most Tufts people, even if they can afford those bags, won’t carry them on campus. The same goes for many other ostentatious articles of clothing. In fact, I find anecdotally that wealth and clothing are generally negatively correlated — that is, only rich students dress like they are homeless, and poorer ones spend more money than they can afford in order to appear wealthier. It’s the reverse of what you might expect because people don’t want to be identified as rich. Well, to these people, I have only one thing to say: You go to Tufts. In the rest of the country and world, you’re already considered rich.
So Duncan, sorry to say it, but if you don’t qualify for financial aid here, you’re not in the middle class. And to you, average reader, odds are that your friends are probably better off than average, too. We can discuss socioeconomic status and class at length, and I know that I could learn a lot as well as teach others a few things, but where does that get us? The amount of mutual learning that can take place is limited by the fact that one end of the income spectrum is heavily, heavily overrepresented here.
We can’t entirely blame the university for the situation. Tufts does offer fairly substantial financial aid, even to those in the upper class. And while going here is very expensive, it isn’t far outside of its peer group in terms of tuition or general expenses.
What to do? For one, Tufts could really be need-blind in its admissions instead of maybe-kinda-sorta need-blind. Or Tufts could lower tuition, or at the very least not raise it every year. But in a relatively small way, Tufts’ exorbitant price tag helps redistribute wealth, at least in theory, because only very wealthy people pay the full price while less privileged students get financial aid, some of which comes from money paid in the form of rich kids’ tuition.
The Senate is doing excellent work in trying to eliminate ticket costs for most on-campus events, and I really hope that effort succeeds. It isn’t enough when rents around campus are astronomical — still cheaper than living on campus though, at least sometimes — and one meal block costs over $10. A great effort needs to be targeted to recruiting more students from the actual middle class and the working and lower classes as well. If we are going to talk about class, which I think we should, we need to start from the same set of facts and realities. And the fact is, most Tufts people are not in the middle class, no matter how you define that term.
Will Ehrenfeld
Published: Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Recently, TCU President Duncan Pickard wrote a really interesting letter to the editor, attempting to bring up issues of class on campus and encouraging conversations about the subject at Tufts. I wholeheartedly agree with his idea in this case and am grateful that the topic has been raised. Yet there are some pretty serious flaws in his letter, and I need, on one hand, to correct him and on the other, to discuss a few ideas that are not explicitly related.
At our great university, as with many of its peers, the student body comes from a primarily upper-class background. That’s just a factual statement. Only 41 percent of undergraduates receive financial aid from Tufts, and usually financial aid comes at least partially in the form of loans and work study jobs rather than direct grants. And, to be ineligible for financial aid, you either need to have a lot of money in the bank or parents who are taking in a very significant income — or more likely both. If you’re not getting financial help from Tufts, you’re not middle class. There might be a bit of debate about that term, middle class, and what it really means. Part of it is cultural and social, sure, but there are numbers here to look at. What do you think is middle class? Where do we draw the lines delineating upper middle class and simply rich?
Maybe for an average household, a $100,000 annual income is roughly middle class. That sounds right, doesn’t it? Well, in 2006, the top quintile (20 percent) of households made $91,705 or above, so that could hardly put someone in the proverbial (not to mention literal) middle. Let’s try $60,000; I know, you couldn’t afford that new Lacoste polo or spring break in Europe for your whole entire family with that amount, but some people can survive on $60,000. In fact, 60 percent of American households manage to scrape by with $60,000 or less. It gets worse: Lots of people barely have enough money to afford the rent and the grocery bill, let alone private school tuition or that new car. The median household income in the United States as recorded by the U.S. Census Bureau in 2007 was $50,223. That’s barely enough to cover a year at Tufts.
With those numbers in mind, let’s look at Tufts. Most people at Tufts are clearly not middle class, no matter how you slice it. Whether the middle class is defined as the middle 20 percent or 60 percent, Tufts students are well outside the national average. You could consider yourself middle class — a large majority of Americans do — but we as a student body are on the whole extremely wealthy and from privileged backgrounds. If only 41 percent of students here receive Tufts financial aid, that means the other 59 percent must come from places where money really is no object. You need to be in the top quintile in terms of income to even come close to being above the threshold for financial aid. That’s a lot of money.
Also, the way somebody dresses is typically not correlated with class. Maybe that Louis Vuitton bag sticks out, but most Tufts people, even if they can afford those bags, won’t carry them on campus. The same goes for many other ostentatious articles of clothing. In fact, I find anecdotally that wealth and clothing are generally negatively correlated — that is, only rich students dress like they are homeless, and poorer ones spend more money than they can afford in order to appear wealthier. It’s the reverse of what you might expect because people don’t want to be identified as rich. Well, to these people, I have only one thing to say: You go to Tufts. In the rest of the country and world, you’re already considered rich.
So Duncan, sorry to say it, but if you don’t qualify for financial aid here, you’re not in the middle class. And to you, average reader, odds are that your friends are probably better off than average, too. We can discuss socioeconomic status and class at length, and I know that I could learn a lot as well as teach others a few things, but where does that get us? The amount of mutual learning that can take place is limited by the fact that one end of the income spectrum is heavily, heavily overrepresented here.
We can’t entirely blame the university for the situation. Tufts does offer fairly substantial financial aid, even to those in the upper class. And while going here is very expensive, it isn’t far outside of its peer group in terms of tuition or general expenses.
What to do? For one, Tufts could really be need-blind in its admissions instead of maybe-kinda-sorta need-blind. Or Tufts could lower tuition, or at the very least not raise it every year. But in a relatively small way, Tufts’ exorbitant price tag helps redistribute wealth, at least in theory, because only very wealthy people pay the full price while less privileged students get financial aid, some of which comes from money paid in the form of rich kids’ tuition.
The Senate is doing excellent work in trying to eliminate ticket costs for most on-campus events, and I really hope that effort succeeds. It isn’t enough when rents around campus are astronomical — still cheaper than living on campus though, at least sometimes — and one meal block costs over $10. A great effort needs to be targeted to recruiting more students from the actual middle class and the working and lower classes as well. If we are going to talk about class, which I think we should, we need to start from the same set of facts and realities. And the fact is, most Tufts people are not in the middle class, no matter how you define that term.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
My favorite so far
Getting offended too easily
Will Ehrenfeld
Published: Tuesday, February 24, 2009
This is a column that I’m really excited to write. On Friday, if you didn’t see it, senior Kevin Dillon (no, not Johnny Drama) wrote an op-ed in the Daily called “Things Tufts’ Campus Needs,” which basically criticized me and my column, specifically the one titled “Unnecessary activism.” As an apparent necessary activist, I am not surprised Kevin took issue with some of the ideas from my column.
But that’s not (directly) what this column is about. With Dillon’s passionate and somewhat jumbled response piece as exhibit A, I’m hoping to discuss that characteristic of Tufts that everyone surely is intimately aware of: the proclivity to get offended. I can’t imagine how those at Tufts who commonly get offended — so offended, in fact, that they may write an angry letter to the Daily — will fare in the future. I really worry about people like Dillon who seem to get worked up very quickly and often, even about things that really aren’t a big deal. This column? Not a big deal. The Jumbo Janitor Alliance, of which Mr. Dillon is the founder, is not the biggest deal in the world, either — although, after mentioning them in a column, several people have defended them, both in person and in print, so I’ll leave that alone.
I don’t want to focus on one person, though. Dillon isn’t the only one who gets irrationally offended by irrelevant things. Ben Silver, author of the infamous Feb. 5 op-ed attacking the Primary Source for their cover featuring President Obama as the messiah, also appears to be offended very easily. I worked with Silver on the Obama campaign, so I realize this is an issue close to his heart, but ... really? Of all the offensive things the Source does, this is what you pick out to criticize? And then the editors of the Primary Source, not to be outdone in the easily offended department, were eager to respond in similar fashion, nitpicking and attacking Silver’s letter. Is that what the Daily’s op-ed section has become — a forum for silly flame wars?
Why do people do this? Think of the boy who cried wolf. But I suppose this is more like the upper-middle-class white kid who cried, “That’s offensive!” What will happen if I start saying truly inflammatory things? It could happen. The activists who would lead an uprising have already used their primary weapon, the sanctimonious letter to the editor — so what next? After my next “offensive” column, will there be rallies and demonstrations on the quad, replete with signs featuring creative slogans?
It actually seems like people at Tufts enjoy getting worked up and offended, so much so that they invent things to get upset about. Why? Illogically, Tufts people often seem to seek out things that are unrelated to themselves to get offended by. Take the Primary Source, for example. One would think that the primary offend-ees of the Source would be the groups it tends to attack — Muslims, African Americans, peace and justice studies students — the list goes on and on. But who do we see writing angry letters to the editor about the offenses the Source commits? Self-righteous liberals — a sad trend, especially because I am a proud liberal, although apparently my level of self-righteousness is not quite up to par.
While I work on that, I have an assignment for the (surely myriad) readers of this column. I want this column to be participatory. I know I’m not the only one with ideas about stuff Tufts people like; in fact, this column was partially inspired by a suggestion from a reader. So e-mail me your ideas! Or, better yet, write an indignant op-ed in the Daily. Even if it’s not always complimentary, I want to hear from you.
Will Ehrenfeld
Published: Tuesday, February 24, 2009
This is a column that I’m really excited to write. On Friday, if you didn’t see it, senior Kevin Dillon (no, not Johnny Drama) wrote an op-ed in the Daily called “Things Tufts’ Campus Needs,” which basically criticized me and my column, specifically the one titled “Unnecessary activism.” As an apparent necessary activist, I am not surprised Kevin took issue with some of the ideas from my column.
But that’s not (directly) what this column is about. With Dillon’s passionate and somewhat jumbled response piece as exhibit A, I’m hoping to discuss that characteristic of Tufts that everyone surely is intimately aware of: the proclivity to get offended. I can’t imagine how those at Tufts who commonly get offended — so offended, in fact, that they may write an angry letter to the Daily — will fare in the future. I really worry about people like Dillon who seem to get worked up very quickly and often, even about things that really aren’t a big deal. This column? Not a big deal. The Jumbo Janitor Alliance, of which Mr. Dillon is the founder, is not the biggest deal in the world, either — although, after mentioning them in a column, several people have defended them, both in person and in print, so I’ll leave that alone.
I don’t want to focus on one person, though. Dillon isn’t the only one who gets irrationally offended by irrelevant things. Ben Silver, author of the infamous Feb. 5 op-ed attacking the Primary Source for their cover featuring President Obama as the messiah, also appears to be offended very easily. I worked with Silver on the Obama campaign, so I realize this is an issue close to his heart, but ... really? Of all the offensive things the Source does, this is what you pick out to criticize? And then the editors of the Primary Source, not to be outdone in the easily offended department, were eager to respond in similar fashion, nitpicking and attacking Silver’s letter. Is that what the Daily’s op-ed section has become — a forum for silly flame wars?
Why do people do this? Think of the boy who cried wolf. But I suppose this is more like the upper-middle-class white kid who cried, “That’s offensive!” What will happen if I start saying truly inflammatory things? It could happen. The activists who would lead an uprising have already used their primary weapon, the sanctimonious letter to the editor — so what next? After my next “offensive” column, will there be rallies and demonstrations on the quad, replete with signs featuring creative slogans?
It actually seems like people at Tufts enjoy getting worked up and offended, so much so that they invent things to get upset about. Why? Illogically, Tufts people often seem to seek out things that are unrelated to themselves to get offended by. Take the Primary Source, for example. One would think that the primary offend-ees of the Source would be the groups it tends to attack — Muslims, African Americans, peace and justice studies students — the list goes on and on. But who do we see writing angry letters to the editor about the offenses the Source commits? Self-righteous liberals — a sad trend, especially because I am a proud liberal, although apparently my level of self-righteousness is not quite up to par.
While I work on that, I have an assignment for the (surely myriad) readers of this column. I want this column to be participatory. I know I’m not the only one with ideas about stuff Tufts people like; in fact, this column was partially inspired by a suggestion from a reader. So e-mail me your ideas! Or, better yet, write an indignant op-ed in the Daily. Even if it’s not always complimentary, I want to hear from you.
Column 4
Will Ehrenfeld | Stuff Tufts People Like
Trying, and failing, to change the world
Published: Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Following last week’s column about unnecessary activism, I want to focus more directly on activism and its role on campus and in a Tufts education. “Civic engagement” is one of the big buzzwords that admissions and public relations spout relentlessly; the university depicts itself as a socially active institution that is heavily involved in community issues and service. Tufts people especially like working with poor or disadvantaged people who “need our help,” and this becomes more central to our time at Tufts than any other ideas about education that might follow a more traditional path.
Those of us (I include myself here) who came to Tufts expecting to change the world immediately upon arrival in Medford have likely been disappointed in the progress so far. You (we) have almost certainly failed rather miserably in your (our) attempts to change the world and impact humanity in a positive way. And, sorry to burst your bubble, but your immediate prospects don’t look too good, either. I’m not chastising you for your idealistic beliefs and outlandish ambition — I have those things, too — but I think you’re confused.
Matthew Arnold, a 19th century English writer, once suggested that “poetry can save us.” In this time of relatively deep unrest and growing economic turmoil, every prescription for salvation must be reviewed, so let’s examine Arnold’s idea in a larger context. Everyone need not read copious amounts of poetry, although Robert Frost never hurt anyone. Instead, poetry here is a metaphor for the humanities in general and education in its purest form, which is sadly lacking at our potentially great institution.
I believe that Tufts students are some of the smartest people I have ever met, and the potential here for deep engagement with education and learning is great, yet what many of us have been doing here is wasting our time. Stanley Fish, a professor and occasional blogger at the New York Times Web site, calls his column “The Last Professor” in a not-so-subtle jab at current academics that focus on changing the world instead of learning. One of his books on higher education, “Save the World on Your Own Time” (2008), pretty well describes his opinion on civic engagement and its role inside the classroom.
In multiple columns, Fish has argued that higher education, understood properly, can be distinguished by the lack of a relationship between its activities and measurable effects in the world around us. I can only bemoan the absence of this type of learning and engagement here. Tufts people seem more interested in appearing compassionate and involved than focusing on their own education. We are missing out on schooling for schooling’s sake — poetry, philosophy and literature for example — where the goal is specially focused on understanding, comprehension and enlarging the mind; it is individual rather than instrumental.
You can spend hours, days or even weeks volunteering at a homeless shelter or a soup kitchen or, if you’re lucky, traveling to Africa to help refugees. In fact, you ought to, if you have the opportunity — but that’s not really an education. Don’t delude yourself into thinking you are getting educated and learning how to create change as you do it. You might be helping a few people, but you are missing out on something wonderful if you avoid learning for your — and its — own sake.
Trying, and failing, to change the world
Published: Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Following last week’s column about unnecessary activism, I want to focus more directly on activism and its role on campus and in a Tufts education. “Civic engagement” is one of the big buzzwords that admissions and public relations spout relentlessly; the university depicts itself as a socially active institution that is heavily involved in community issues and service. Tufts people especially like working with poor or disadvantaged people who “need our help,” and this becomes more central to our time at Tufts than any other ideas about education that might follow a more traditional path.
Those of us (I include myself here) who came to Tufts expecting to change the world immediately upon arrival in Medford have likely been disappointed in the progress so far. You (we) have almost certainly failed rather miserably in your (our) attempts to change the world and impact humanity in a positive way. And, sorry to burst your bubble, but your immediate prospects don’t look too good, either. I’m not chastising you for your idealistic beliefs and outlandish ambition — I have those things, too — but I think you’re confused.
Matthew Arnold, a 19th century English writer, once suggested that “poetry can save us.” In this time of relatively deep unrest and growing economic turmoil, every prescription for salvation must be reviewed, so let’s examine Arnold’s idea in a larger context. Everyone need not read copious amounts of poetry, although Robert Frost never hurt anyone. Instead, poetry here is a metaphor for the humanities in general and education in its purest form, which is sadly lacking at our potentially great institution.
I believe that Tufts students are some of the smartest people I have ever met, and the potential here for deep engagement with education and learning is great, yet what many of us have been doing here is wasting our time. Stanley Fish, a professor and occasional blogger at the New York Times Web site, calls his column “The Last Professor” in a not-so-subtle jab at current academics that focus on changing the world instead of learning. One of his books on higher education, “Save the World on Your Own Time” (2008), pretty well describes his opinion on civic engagement and its role inside the classroom.
In multiple columns, Fish has argued that higher education, understood properly, can be distinguished by the lack of a relationship between its activities and measurable effects in the world around us. I can only bemoan the absence of this type of learning and engagement here. Tufts people seem more interested in appearing compassionate and involved than focusing on their own education. We are missing out on schooling for schooling’s sake — poetry, philosophy and literature for example — where the goal is specially focused on understanding, comprehension and enlarging the mind; it is individual rather than instrumental.
You can spend hours, days or even weeks volunteering at a homeless shelter or a soup kitchen or, if you’re lucky, traveling to Africa to help refugees. In fact, you ought to, if you have the opportunity — but that’s not really an education. Don’t delude yourself into thinking you are getting educated and learning how to create change as you do it. You might be helping a few people, but you are missing out on something wonderful if you avoid learning for your — and its — own sake.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Column 2
Here it is, the moment you've been waiting for, my second column in the Tufts Daily (link).
Seeing their names in print
Will Ehrenfeld
Published: Tuesday, February 3, 2009
This week’s topic is one close to my heart. As a freshly minted columnist in this fine paper, it should be obvious that I, as much as anybody, really enjoy seeing my name in print. And I’m especially lucky: My beautiful picture also gets printed every Tuesday along with this column. I am not alone, though, in my enthusiastic support of, well ... myself.
Tufts students, more so than students from other schools, appreciate seeing their names in print — be it in The New York Times, The Tufts Daily, or even The New Bedford Standard Times. A friend of mine at Tufts recently sent an e-mail to a large number of friends, asking us to read an article his local newspaper at home wrote about his internship at the White House. “It looks at the experience in a more comprehensive way, not just focusing on my time in the office, but the complete Washington experience,” he wrote, taking himself far too seriously. “I hope you will take the time to read the article.”
That’s one example; I’m sure most Tufts people could add similar anecdotes from their social circles. This e-mail wasn’t particularly off-putting, and the article was moderately interesting — but it’s indicative of a broader issue. Tufts people urgently self-promote like few others. Any publication that has even a very narrow readership (see Source, Primary) attracts many writers, photographers and people with no interest in journalism, so long as they are assured of seeing their name somewhere in print. It doesn’t matter if it’s in a largely ignored magazine or newspaper or if it’s only for serving as assistant copy editor for The Public Journal.
By my count, Tufts has more than ten separate, (relatively) regularly produced publications, ranging from this paragon of journalism, The Tufts Daily, to the lowly, rarely published Forum, a project of the Tufts Democrats (and for which I occasionally write). The vast majority of these projects are funded by the Tufts Community Union (TCU) Senate through the student activities fund, and I suppose the publications are fulfilling the purpose of this fund that the Senate, in its unrivaled wisdom, allots to various student groups. One of the greatest desires of Tufts students is to see their names in print, so maximizing the outlets for this desire is really the ideal use for the money.
Speaking of the TCU Senate ... I’m convinced that the only reason people run for Senate is so that they can enjoy excessive publicity from the Daily. The notoriety attached to such glorious, glorious coverage is not only a big ego boost, but it gives the person being interviewed — let’s say TCU Treasurer Matt Shapanka — the pleasure of feeling superior to the lowly Daily staff writer who has to call Matt on a Sunday night to ask him about the latest development in the saga over the recovered funds. By the way, I’m looking forward to a lengthy thank-you note from Shapanka for the excellent publicity I’m giving him. Don’t forget the little people, Matt.
With this interviewer-interviewee dynamic factored in, I’m a relative bottom-feeder in the publicity scheme, but at least my notoriety is guaranteed. I can write whatever I want in this column, really, and my ugly mug will keep showing up at the top of the page once a week. And here you are, slaving away in the MAB lab to perfect the photo layout in the forthcoming issue of Tufts Traveler. I almost feel bad.
Want to see your name right here in this very column? Contact me with something that you think Tufts people like, and you could provide the topic of an upcoming column.
Seeing their names in print
Will Ehrenfeld
Published: Tuesday, February 3, 2009
This week’s topic is one close to my heart. As a freshly minted columnist in this fine paper, it should be obvious that I, as much as anybody, really enjoy seeing my name in print. And I’m especially lucky: My beautiful picture also gets printed every Tuesday along with this column. I am not alone, though, in my enthusiastic support of, well ... myself.
Tufts students, more so than students from other schools, appreciate seeing their names in print — be it in The New York Times, The Tufts Daily, or even The New Bedford Standard Times. A friend of mine at Tufts recently sent an e-mail to a large number of friends, asking us to read an article his local newspaper at home wrote about his internship at the White House. “It looks at the experience in a more comprehensive way, not just focusing on my time in the office, but the complete Washington experience,” he wrote, taking himself far too seriously. “I hope you will take the time to read the article.”
That’s one example; I’m sure most Tufts people could add similar anecdotes from their social circles. This e-mail wasn’t particularly off-putting, and the article was moderately interesting — but it’s indicative of a broader issue. Tufts people urgently self-promote like few others. Any publication that has even a very narrow readership (see Source, Primary) attracts many writers, photographers and people with no interest in journalism, so long as they are assured of seeing their name somewhere in print. It doesn’t matter if it’s in a largely ignored magazine or newspaper or if it’s only for serving as assistant copy editor for The Public Journal.
By my count, Tufts has more than ten separate, (relatively) regularly produced publications, ranging from this paragon of journalism, The Tufts Daily, to the lowly, rarely published Forum, a project of the Tufts Democrats (and for which I occasionally write). The vast majority of these projects are funded by the Tufts Community Union (TCU) Senate through the student activities fund, and I suppose the publications are fulfilling the purpose of this fund that the Senate, in its unrivaled wisdom, allots to various student groups. One of the greatest desires of Tufts students is to see their names in print, so maximizing the outlets for this desire is really the ideal use for the money.
Speaking of the TCU Senate ... I’m convinced that the only reason people run for Senate is so that they can enjoy excessive publicity from the Daily. The notoriety attached to such glorious, glorious coverage is not only a big ego boost, but it gives the person being interviewed — let’s say TCU Treasurer Matt Shapanka — the pleasure of feeling superior to the lowly Daily staff writer who has to call Matt on a Sunday night to ask him about the latest development in the saga over the recovered funds. By the way, I’m looking forward to a lengthy thank-you note from Shapanka for the excellent publicity I’m giving him. Don’t forget the little people, Matt.
With this interviewer-interviewee dynamic factored in, I’m a relative bottom-feeder in the publicity scheme, but at least my notoriety is guaranteed. I can write whatever I want in this column, really, and my ugly mug will keep showing up at the top of the page once a week. And here you are, slaving away in the MAB lab to perfect the photo layout in the forthcoming issue of Tufts Traveler. I almost feel bad.
Want to see your name right here in this very column? Contact me with something that you think Tufts people like, and you could provide the topic of an upcoming column.
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