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?

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

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.

Monday, March 9, 2009

First Post @ Red, Brown & Blue

I'm the newest addition to the Tufts University admissions office's politics blog, and I'll cross-post my entries from there right here for your enjoyment.


Hello and Introduction

After realizing that this blog has quickly turned into Mike Hawley’s private soapbox for his crazy rantings, I decided that I have to get on here, if only for a brief post. Also, I suppose I should introduce myself as that new guy on the Left of the banner (the good-looking one). I’m Will Ehrenfeld, class of 2010, and as you may have guessed, I’ll be representing the Democratic point of view here. A little more about myself: I’m twenty years old and originally from Vernon, Connecticut, which is a town of about 27,000, located in Eastern Connecticut, about halfway between Hartford and the University of Connecticut. Vernon is home to another famous Democratic Jumbo (in addition to me); 2nd district congressman and family friend Joe Courtney is a Tufts Alum (A75) and neighbor. I’m a double-major in political science and peace & justice studies (ask me about it!) and I’m involved in a bunch of clubs on campus, including the Tufts Democrats. I blog occasionally at a few other sites–some you may have heard of, like Daily Kos and MyDD, others are a bit less prominent, like MyLeftNutmeg.com, which focuses on Connecticut politics, and one I’m sure you’ve never heard of: my personal blog, which among other things will contain cross-posts from here and from my column in the Tufts Daily–always an interesting, if rabble-rousing addition to campus news.

I will briefly get in to my political background and, yes, philosophy, although Mike certainly knows after taking Western Political Thought II with me a year ago that he’s much more knowledgeable and interested about that subject than I am. I first got seriously involved in Democratic politics in the leadup to the 2006 cycle, just before my freshman year at Tufts. At this point, my now-congressman Joe Courtney was an up-and-coming challenger to incumbent Republican Rob Simmons. I volunteered for the campaign a few times over the summer, but when I got to school I was quickly distracted by the million and one things going on during the first few weeks of anyone’s freshman year. One day I fortuitously saw a flyer advertising a Tufts Democrats’ campaign trip to Connecticut to campaign for the Courtney campaign, and I eagerly attended the first meeting and ended up going on a few trips to my home district to campaign. We were able to attend the results-watching party, held right in my hometown, but it ended up not being much of a party at all. The results were agonizingly close, and it was only weeks later that Courtney pulled out a razor-thin 83-vote margin of victory.

After this, I was hooked. I started to follow political news more closely, reading mainstream newspapers, watching cable news and reading and contributing to a few blogs. And then, one thing led to another, I led the charge at Tufts for President Barack Obama’s primary victory, and here we are today. In the hopes of not boring you all too much with my first post (and also getting back to writing that mid-term…), I think I’ll leave it at that. Look forward to future posts on issues such as education reform and NCLB, healthcare, and whatever else comes up in the news.

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.

Posted here without any sort of permission

Today, much to my...what's the opposite of chagrin? Delight? Much to my delight, I opened today's Tufts Daily to see an angry, hilarious, and all-around outrageous op-ed written about yours truly and my column. It's posted below, in its entirety. Enjoy.

--
How’s this for offensive?
Will Nichols

Published: Tuesday, March 3, 2009

This is now the fourth week in a row that I’ve read Will Ehrenfeld’s column, “Stuff Tufts People Like.” Coincidentally, this is also the fourth week in a row that I’ve been wholly unimpressed and vaguely annoyed with said column. Last week, his topic of choice for stuff that Tufts people like was “Getting offended too easily.”

As a decidedly cynical fellow, I was satisfied to see that the Daily had picked up a weekly column that pokes fun at the sometimes overly reactionary culture that exists here at Tufts. I was also pleased to see that the column’s author had taken a cue from StuffWhitePeopleLike.com, the very funny blog that highlights some of the more comical aspects of white culture (i.e., adopting markedly non-white children from war-torn nations and giving them names like Pomegranate, Biloxi or Kanye). But I was soon aggravated to learn that in trying to copy the well-known humor blog’s style, Mr. Ehrenfeld had tragically omitted one key component: humor. Mr. Ehrenfeld has effectively taken the “humor” out of “humor column” with this poorly written attempt at cynicism.

So, Mr. Ehrenfeld, please consider this my answer to your call for readers to write an “indignant op-ed in the Daily.” I have a sneaking suspicion, however, that this is not quite the sort of indignation you hoped to stir up. No, I’m not offended by your (unfunny) attacks on the Jumbo Janitor Alliance or by your disdain for “self-righteous liberals” on campus. Instead, sir, I am offended by the tragic lack of humor in your humor column. (It is supposed to be funny, right?) I am offended by the glaring shortage of witty cynicism in your wannabe-subversive weekly piece. Are we also suffering from a humor recession? Your words have as much bite as my grandmother when she spits out her dentures. Your topics are as bland as a stale matzo cracker. Your “inflammatory” accusations are softer than a pudgy ZBT brother. I know you’d like to think otherwise, but your column is offensive only in its mediocrity.

To your credit, however, you did hit the nail on the head in your most recent column. I, as an overly sensitive member of the Tufts community, am highly offended by your excruciatingly uninteresting writing. You asked, “What will happen if I start saying truly inflammatory things?” I’m more curious to see what will happen if you start saying truly interesting things. If you’re aiming for “truly inflammatory,” I’d advise you to take a page from Daily sex columnist Logan Crane’s playbook and write a piece about queefing noisily while engaging in public intercourse on the Joey. Until then, I’m not entertained.

I respond to your call for an “indignant op-ed” with another challenge: Try to make me laugh with your next column. Write something truly cynical — and funny! — and stop giving cynics everywhere a bad name. If that doesn’t work out, you might consider enrolling in a freshman writing seminar; I think there’s one called “Humor for the Non-Humorist.” And if that still doesn’t pan out for you, I’d suggest making amends with whomever you offended at the Jumbo Janitor Alliance. Maybe they’ll hire you to write their press releases; that probably won’t require humor.