University Life

The first Ph.D. dissertation exploring the significance of the incident involving Chris Rock and Will Smith at the 2022 Academy Awards was published yesterday by Oxford University Press.  Written by Caleb Kurf, a doctoral student in Sociology at New York University, the dissertation argues that the Rock/Smith interaction represented not a conflict, but a fraternal bonding, between the two men.  

Entitled “A Slap is NOT a Punch: Contextualizing the Resistance of the Black Elite to White Colonialism in the Film Industry,” the work shows that Smith’s use of his open hand to strike Rock signaled that the former was “reaching out in solidarity to a brother.  Exposing one’s palm is a universal sign of vulnerability, not hostility or aggression.  The subtext of the interaction was the long-suppressed outrage that both parties felt toward the negative reviews received by The Karate Kid, a 2010 remake starring Jaden Smith, Will’s son.  The slap symbolized the abuse that Jaden had suffered at the hands of clueless movie critics.”

“We fast-tracked Caleb’s dissertation for approval, given the importance of the subject matter,” says NYU Sociology Department Chair Wendell Levitt-Nissan.  “He researched and wrote his analysis on Sunday night following the Awards broadcast, and defended the dissertation before a faculty committee on Tuesday afternoon.  He signed a contract with Oxford University Press on Tuesday night, and a monograph based on the work was published on Thursday.  A book signing will be held at the 82nd and Broadway location of Barnes & Noble in Manhattan on Saturday from 1 to 3 pm.  Kendrick Lamar will perform ‘Jaden’s Song,’ his latest release, at 2:30.  The after-party will be held from 4 to 7 at the home of Bill de Blasio, former mayor of New York City.” 

The Chronicle of Higher Education recently explored the growing presence of Emotional-Support Animals (ESAs) on college campuses around the country (March 17th online).  These animals provide individuals with comfort or aid through companionship, unconditional positive regard, and affection.  

Now, at Sweet Briar College, a women’s school in Virginia, an ESA scandal has erupted.  On March 23rd, 18 students were suspended for disguising their live-in boyfriends (in 3 cases, girlfriends) as emotional-support dogs in their dorm rooms. 

The ruse was discovered by a member of the housecleaning staff who noticed that the support dogs appeared to be “a lot bigger than any damned dogs I had ever laid eyes on.”  The staff member alerted her supervisor, who informed campus police.  The ensuing investigation uncovered the fraud.  

The support-dog impostors, who were all arrested, included Griffin Hurf, a 340-lb. defensive lineman on the Amherst County High School football team.  He was taken into custody wearing a Scooby Doo costume.

The suspended Sweet Briar students were defiant.  “I’m a healthy young woman, and I have the desires of a healthy young woman,” proclaimed Poinsettia Van Tillotsen, a junior from Lexington, Kentucky.  “I’m majoring in Mechanical Engineering, which is an extremely demanding field.  When I return to my room at the end of a long, stressful day I need a lot more than a cup of chamomile tea and a macaroon to relax.  I need my hunka, hunka burnin’ love.  Is that so hard to understand?”

Sweet Briar officials say the matter is now closed; they do not plan to comment further.  

Lyle Krusker, assistant professor of chemistry at Syracuse University, was not optimistic about being promoted to associate professor this year.  Yes, he was a respected researcher, and student evaluations of his teaching were positive, but his record of “service to the university” was sketchy.  In the past four years he had only served on one faculty committee, a sleepy little task force responsible for choosing the food trucks that would engorge tailgaters at homecoming.  

Enter Quentin Weft, and his terrifying encounter in early December with a stale breadstick at the Wednesday night Olive Garden Festival in the dining commons.  A sophomore, Quentin literally bit off more than he could chew, and started choking.  Dr. Krusker noticed the emergency and rushed over to administer the Heimlich maneuver to Quentin, saving his life.

When Syracuse’s Tenure and Promotion Committee reviewed Krusker’s application in mid-January, they concluded that this intervention provided credible evidence of his service to the university.  He was awarded tenure and promoted.  As one Committee member put it, “hey, the guy came through in a life-and-death situation involving a tuition-paying student.  Service doesn’t get any more meaningful than that.”

Since then, tenure and promotion committees across the country have started considering the Heimlich maneuver when making decisions.  Of course, certain conditions must be met.  For one thing, only on-campus incidents typically count.  As the Provost of Connecticut College recently observed, “we’re talking about service to the college here.  Saving a random person’s life in a downtown New London restaurant, or on the sidewalk, doesn’t qualify.” 

Moreover, the life-saving attempt must be successful.  A department chair at Fordham University notes that “one of our associate professors failed to dislodge an oversized peach pit from the throat of a freshman, though she tried mightily.  She ended up not getting tenure, and that was the reason.  We’re a performance-based institution.  I don’t mean to be cynical, but Marge would have been better off serving a term or two on the Faculty Senate.  It’s a real shame.”

Unintended consequences have also begun to emerge.   At the College of Charleston, an assistant professor was arrested three weeks ago at the cafeteria’s buffet bar as he attempted to hide chicken bones in the Cobb salad.  And at Lehigh University, a choking undergraduate died as two desperate tenure candidates fought over who was going to give him the Heimlich.  A campus police officer was present at the scene, but wasn’t sure if he had the authority to intervene, given that the academic domains of tenure and promotion were involved.  “We’re going to work with the Provost’s office to develop a policy on how to handle these situations in the future,” said the chief of campus police.  “This incident was embarrassing for everybody, and the student’s parents were not thrilled, as you might imagine.”

The lesson here for higher education administrators?  If you don’t currently have clear guidelines in place for the Heimlich/T&P/Campus Police interface, it’s time to get busy.  

 

Students at the University of Virginia have voted to amend the school’s Honor Code.  A two-semester leave of absence will replace expulsion as the sanction for committing an offense (The Cavalier Daily, March 4th online).  

This action reflects the changing landscape of punishment for honor-code violations at colleges and universities across the country.  Here’s a sampling of 10 penalties now being applied at various institutions:

Harvard —  Offenders must engage in a 45-minute conversation with a working-class Cambridge resident to explain the concept of high-end distressed jeans.  (“You see, if they look damaged you can charge more — a lot more.  Why do you still seem confused?”)

Bowdoin College —  Convicted students are required to watch the school’s curling team practice four times a week for a semester, with each session lasting three hours. 

Valparaiso University —  The student’s Netflix subscription is suspended for an entire academic year.

University of Arkansas —  Students found guilty are not allowed to partake of possum-flavored chewing tobacco for a full semester.  This punishment applies to both males and females. 

Georgia Tech —  Code violators view a 12-hour video, “He/She/They/Zorf: Evolving Issues in Gender Pronouns” (a panel discussion featuring faculty members from Wellesley, Smith, and Mount Holyoke).  Students can choose to jump off the school’s 1300-foot bell tower into a pit of Egyptian cobras rather than watch the video.  Most jump. 

University of Miami —  Offenders are banned from using tanning butter for three weeks.  During this period sunburns cannot be treated with aloe or any other soothing product. 

Arizona State University —  Those pleading guilty must speak with a British accent for two months in all campus locations, including bed.  The word “blimey” must be used at least once during every sexual encounter. 

University of California at Berkeley — No avocado toast for a full calendar year. 

University of Oklahoma —  Miscreants are tied, naked, to a satellite dish on the roof of a mobile home during tornado season.   Rakes and kitchen knives are scattered in an adjacent yard. 

Princeton —  Offenders must prepare a comprehensive dictionary that translates the language of New Jersey shoreline residents into English.

You’re still thinking about the pricing of those distressed jeans, aren’t you?

 

The Subject line of a recent “Teaching” column in the Chronicle of Higher Education reads, “How to Help Students Listen for the Key Idea” (February 17th online). 

Uh-oh.

The problem here is the implication that every lecture contains a key idea.

Most professors, even those at elite schools, are lucky if they are blessed with a key idea once or twice during an entire semester.  The notion that they would have such an idea to share with students at every class meeting is pretty funny.  Indeed, the core challenge in college teaching is how to handle the fact that the vast majority of class sessions contain NO key idea.

Here are five proven strategies that experienced faculty members routinely use in this situation: 

Turn the Tables — Place the burden on the student to discover whether a key idea is embedded in your lecture.  Emphasize that one of the critical cognitive skills to be developed in college is the ability to determine if something is present or absent.  Tell them that there might be a key idea in your lecture today, or there might not be.  It’s their job to figure out which is the case.  If they identify a key idea when none is present, express your disappointment and hurt.  This will make them defensive, which is good for learning.  

Be Transparent —  Acknowledge up-front that there will be no key idea communicated in class today.  Come clean by informing students that your lecture will basically consist of a lot of random crap strung together by several amusing anecdotes.  Students will appreciate your honesty, and you’ll sleep better.  

Go Postmodern —  Share with students your aggressive critique of the meritocratic, objectivist, bankrupt notion that some ideas are more “key” than others.  That’s just bullshit.  Who’s to say that the observation, “there is chewing gum stuck to the sole of my shoe,” is more or less key than the assertion, “Claude Monet was a founder of Impressionist painting”?  Context is everything.  

Pick an Idea.  ANY Idea. —  Before class, spread out a hard copy of your lecture notes on the kitchen table.  Close your eyes and place your forefinger on a random sentence.  That sentence will be your key idea for the day.  During class, say it louder than any other sentence.  You might wonder, “Doesn’t it make a difference which sentence I choose?”  No, it doesn’t.  When you walk into the classroom and gaze at those heavy-lidded eyes that are struggling to keep you in focus, you’ll know that.  

Turn the Tables II —  Impress upon students the following eternal truth: everything you say in class is key.  Every.  Single.  Utterance.  This was the preferred strategy of professors in the 1950s, and it served them well.  It’s the strategic gift that keeps on giving, as students develop obsessive-compulsive tendencies for note-taking that generalize to many other spheres of their lives.  These neurotic habits will be passed on to their children, ensuring your legacy as a professor “who made a difference” for generations to come.

Now that’s a key idea worth remembering.  

 

True Fact:  In early February, 38 Harvard faculty members signed a letter criticizing the school’s misconduct-focused investigation of  John Comaroff, a professor of anthropology.  A week later, 34 of those signers wrote a second letter, retracting their support for the original letter.  They said that they had “failed to appreciate the impact” that their first letter would have (Harvard Crimson, February 10th online).  

This embarrassing episode proved to be just too much for Ina Howard-Hogan, First Justice of the Cambridge District Court in Massachusetts.  She has ordered Harvard to suspend all 34 retractors, “until such time that every one of them has taken either the SAT or ACT to demonstrate that they’re smart enough to remain at Harvard.”

According to Judge Howard-Hogan, “Harvard prides itself on being the pinnacle of the meritocracy.  Well, if you’re the smartest of the smart, how in the hell could you not anticipate the significant negative impact that your original letter would have?  Perhaps you’re all suffering from early-onset something or other, I don’t know.  But Harvard has a quality brand that it must protect, and you dunderheads have seriously threatened that brand.  Now you need to show that you still have the intellectual wherewithal to rock your ivy-draped La-Z-Boys in a bastion of unparalleled privilege.  For the love of God, you’re at Harvard, not the University of Phoenix or Dartmouth.”

As of February 24th, 31 of the 34 retractors indicated that they would comply with the judge’s order.  The remaining 3, claiming that they perform poorly on standardized tests, have requested permission to submit portfolios of their work that include non-rhyming poetry and supportive letters from neighbors.  

True Fact:  In Alabama, the university system’s Board of Trustees recently reversed its decision to rename a building on its Tuscaloosa campus as “Lucy-Graves Hall.”  Autherine Lucy was the first black student to enroll at the University of Alabama at Tuscaloosa; Bibb Graves was a KKK leader and former governor of the state.  Graves’s name will be dropped.  (The Chronicle of Higher Education, Feb. 11th online)  

This is not the first instance of a school making an abrupt U-turn after committing itself to a mind-numbingly stupid naming decision.  Two of the most famous cases:

— In 1958, the Cornell School of Hotel Administration opened its Himmler-Frank Bed & Breakfast in Ithaca, NY.  A firestorm of controversy ensued, and the structure was torn down three months later.  

In the words of a current marketing professor at the institution, “Who in the hell knows what Cornell decision-makers were thinking in 1958 when they did this?  I can appreciate the Anne Frank branding.  After all, her name evokes the cozy living quarters she occupied in Amsterdam, and one of the B&B’s rooms is in the attic.  But Heinrich Himmler???  The man was a monster.  Were they trying to attract deranged males who would eventually commit suicide?  The optics are all wrong.  It just doesn’t make any sense.”

—  A bit more understandable, perhaps, is the University of Tennessee’s decision to erect the Satanic Christian Chapel on its main quadrangle in 1996. 

“They wanted a place on campus where Goths and Evangelicals could come together in fellowship and worship,” explains the current University chaplain.  “But it didn’t work out, to put it mildly.  Pitched battles would break out as soon as the Goths started beheading live geese at Sunday services.  During these melees the Goths would routinely beat the crap out of the Evangelicals.  They wielded bicycle chains, studded dog collars, and chain saws, while the most the Evangelicals could do was speak in tongues.  It was never a fair fight.  In 1998 the building was converted to a Chick-fil-A, and it’s now the most popular gathering place on campus.  Go figure.  Tasty chicken is what brings people together in harmony, not religion.”

 

“Does your college offer a quirky tour for prospective students?”  The Chronicle of Higher Education recently asked this question in its online Daily Briefing.  

At least 5 schools can answer the Chronicle with a resounding “YES.”  Behold:

Yale University:  Perhaps the quirkiest tour of them all.  Yale’s Beinecke Library is home to a copy of one the world’s rarest and most valuable books, the 1455 Gutenberg Bible.  

If your family’s net worth is at least $250 million, you and your child can participate in the little-known Gutenberg Scavenger Hunt.  Prior to the Hunt, Beinecke staff rip out 3 pages from the Bible and hide them throughout the Library.  You get to keep any pages you discover as you search the building on your own for up to an hour. 

According to Beinecke Director Michelle Light, “Mark Zuckerberg has already made a 2033 Hunt reservation for his daughter Maxima, who’s currently 6 years old.  Harvard, I’m so sorry.  Oops, did that sound insincere?”

Rutgers University:  The Reimbursement Trail Tour is a must for high school seniors who desire a career in customer service.  Visitors are given a request-for-reimbursement form filled out by a fictitious faculty member, then follow the route taken by the form until the request is finally approved (or denied). 

The tour includes visits to at least 15 University offices in 12 different buildings across the campus.  See what happens when a staff member mistakenly forwards the form to the wrong office, or forgets to sign it before transmission.  Please Note:  This tour cannot be completed in one day.  Set aside at least a week.  Prepare for intermittent rudeness and an attitude that screams, “this task is beneath me, even though it’s my job.”   

Texas A&M University:  The school’s enormously popular Guns N’ Roses Tour takes you to every location on campus where handguns and automatic weapons are legally stored in preparation for the nation’s coming race war.  “None of the firearms are loaded, so it’s OK for even young kids in the family to play with them,” boasts Texas A&M Police Chief Ned Thickett.  “At the end of the tour every mom is given a single rose as the student guide sings ‘The Yellow Rose of Texas’, which would be our state song if I had my way.”

Princeton University:  Princeton is the site of the only arboretum in the United States devoted to the cultivation of organic bow ties.  “We’re not a Southern school, but we like to think of ourselves as one,” notes arboretum director Cahill Van Arsdale.  “And what says ‘The South’ more vividly than a colorful bow tie worn with a crisp, white, short-sleeved shirt on a hot summer’s day?  Join us for an arboretum tour and a glass of ice-cold sweet tea!”

Bucknell University:  Every tour includes a quarter-mile stroll through Adjunct Alley.  This quiet wooded path on the outskirts of campus is lined with statues of deceased adjunct faculty members who, at various times, held the record for most consecutive number of incorrect payments received from the Business Office.  

“The Alley is a tribute to the dedication, perseverance, and desperate financial straits of folks who kept teaching part-time for us for so many years,” says Business Office Director Bex Tifton.  “I tear up whenever I walk down Adjunct Alley.  I really do.  The recorded chamber music coming from speakers hidden in the azaleas gets me every time.”

We’re sure it does, Bex.  We’re sure it does. 

The Chronicle of Higher Education recently asked its readers, “Who are the unsung heroes on your campus….and what makes them special?” (Daily Briefing, January 31st online).  

Unfortunately, not all of these individuals can be publicly identified, due to the nature of their contributions.  Here are five such heroes, represented by their pseudonyms:

“Marlene” —  An assistant registrar at a university in the Southeastern Conference, Marlene has been changing grades on athletes’ transcripts for over 20 years.  “She’s a godsend,” says a coach at the school.  “Our football team would not have had a defensive line last year if it hadn’t been for Marlene.  What a sweet woman!  She can change a D+ to a B faster than you can say ‘transfer portal’.  At graduation she gets more hugs than anyone else at the University.” 

“Dwayne” —  A sergeant on the campus police force at a major urban university in the Northeast, Dwayne provides selected faculty members with counterfeit parking stickers that allow them to access lots that are reserved for high-level administrators.  “Sergeant Dwayne is the Robin Hood of campus police,” asserts one associate professor.  “Last week I parked right next to the Provost.  I can’t tell you how good that felt, especially when I swung open my car door and dented hers.”

“Nadine” —  A 66-year-old cafeteria worker at a Bible college in the Midwest, Nadine sprinkles a bit of powdered cocaine on breakfast waffles or pancakes whenever a student gives her the ‘special wink’.”  As one grateful sophomore put it, “Nadine is so much better than my real mom.”

“Gavin” —  For a minor service charge, Gavin — an IT Help Desk staffer — will program a faculty member’s school computer so that it can access adult pornography sites in an untraceable manner.  Gavin notes that “a lot of people claim that IT jobs are sterile and meaningless.  You have no idea how much happiness I’ve been able to provide professors at my school.  Many of them tell me that I give them a reason for living.”

“Sal” —  A 30-year veteran of the Building and Grounds Department, Sal knows where the bodies are buried at his school — literally.  He is revered across campus as the “go-to” guy whenever fraternity hazing involving large amounts of alcohol and fire hoses takes a tragic turn.  Says one fraternity president, “you can call Sal in a panic at 3:00 in the morning, and he’ll come right over with a shovel and a kind word.  He’s never judgmental.  By 5:00 am it’s ‘mission accomplished’.  Thank God for that man.”

These heroes may not be named, but they can be honored.  

 

A January 20th Chronicle of Higher Education online article notes that we should “add attendance policies to the list of higher-education practices coming under new scrutiny in the pandemic.”

Toward that end, University Life recently surveyed class-attendance expectations at a number of colleges and universities across the country.  The results, to put it mildly, are intriguing.  Consider: 

U. S. Military Academy —  According to Academy Superintendent, Lieutenant General Darryl A. Williams, “the only acceptable reason for missing class at West Point is death — your own.  The United States didn’t build a world-class fighting force by letting soldiers sit on the sidelines whenever they shattered a leg or suffered a gaping chest wound.  And as educational psychologists have shown us, you don’t need to be conscious in order to learn, so spare me all that whining about traumatic brain injury.  We’re talking here about WILLPOWER, boys and girls.”

Oral Roberts University —  This evangelical institution has no formal attendance requirements.  Page 17 of the Student Handbook states that “if you are an ORU student whose tuition payments are up to date, your spirit is present throughout our campus.  Although your body may not be in class on any given day, your SOUL certainly is.  Have a blessed day, wherever you are.”

Brigham Young University —  A male student is allowed to miss class if he needs to preside over a dormitory suite meeting in which 3 or more of his wives are scheduling evening conjugal visits.  

University of Maine at Fort Kent —  At this northernmost campus in the University of Maine system, students are permitted to be absent if they become encased in a glacier on the way to class.  “This happens more often than you might think,” says Fort Kent President Deborah Hedeen.  “That’s why all of our freshmen have a smartphone app that reminds them to zip up their tundra suits before venturing out in the morning.  We’ve lost more students to ‘glacier creep’ than I care to count.  Notifying the parents is the worst part of my job.”

Idaho State University —  Only school in the nation where students can miss class in order to attend Q-Anon meetings.  

University of Miami —  No penalty for absences if you have something more interesting to do, or if it’s a good tanning day. 

University of Alabama —  No one (not even the instructor) is required to show up for class during the college football season, which runs from late August through early January.  Beginning in 2023, the University will close during this period every year, with only football operations taking place.  “Let’s be honest,” says President Stuart Bell, “when the Crimson Tide is playing, classes are a distraction.  I’m convinced that we lost the national championship game to Georgia in January for exactly that reason.  Never again.  Not on my watch.”

There’s leadership, and then there’s LEADERSHIP.