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Yesterday I went to a student-moderated discussion about the crisis in Gaza. Four Carleton professors spoke for five minutes each, and then the discussion was opened to questions from the audience.
Carleton professors Seth Greenberg, Joel Weisberg, Adeeb Khalid, and Stacy Beckwith. Photo by Khant Khant Kyaw.
The students who organized the discussion (Katie Blanchard, Hannah Breckbill and Sam Robson) wrote a viewpoint for the Carletonian but were rejected (I’ve posted it below). They decided to self-publish their editorial, and the panel discussion arose out of interest from that first article.
Before the discussion started, the student moderators said repeatedly that they wished to keep the discussion as open and inquisitive as possible. I thought it was unnecessary, because I’ve never seen a conversation get out of hand at Carleton.
I didn’t realize what an emotionally charged issue this is. Professors Weisberg and Greenberg began by explaining how their Jewish backgrounds had led them to two opposing positions on the issue. Throughout the night there were several moments when the student moderators had to ask participants to finish the discussion somewhere else. One student said he didn’t believe the Geneva conventions applied to the conflict.
Professor Khalid explained that the dispute is neither 1,000’s of years old nor based in religion. It is a dispute about land that began a little more than a hundred years ago. Throughout history, coexistence (however imperfect) has been the norm.
I was most struck by the words of Joel Weisberg (who was arrested at the RNC this summer), although he spoke only a few minutes at the beginning of the hour. He said that he could not in conscience support military actions which punish civilians.
Today I am fasting in remembrance with those civilians who have lost their lives in rocket attacks, gun fire, or starvation in the most recent round of this conflict. May we see the end of this conflict within our lifetimes.
Watson Hall, also known as the Cube
This term is one of the most crowded in Carleton history. To find rooms for all the students coming back from off campus, administrators had to get creative. As the Carletonian reports, “To resolve this housing shortage, select lounges in Goodhue, Myers, and Evans Hall have been temporarily transformed into student rooms.”
One would assume that the new dorms, still on schedule to be completed by next fall would solve the housing shortage by adding another 200 rooms. However, the college is planning to cut Northfield option in half and evict some students from campus housing like stadium (some of the coolest rooms on campus), so the gain will be negligible.
In addition, the college is reconsidering its plans to decrease the student population. In light of the financial crisis, they will probably keep the student body large, and they might even increase it. One revenue generating suggestion was to admit a class of 520.
The bright side of this housing crunch is that Carleton will without doubt be offering more study abroad programs in the winter. The Education and Curriculum Committee is strongly encouraging the foreign languages to allow completion of the language requirement through off-campus studies in winter.
For those who are interested, here are the official documents for the new graduation requirements.
- A summary of the proposed changes to the graduation requirements here.
- You can find proposed catalog copy of the new requirements here.
- Recommendations of the QuIRK Committee about their Quantitative reasoning requirement.
And here’s another picture of the tree from my last post.
The useless tree again
I feel very luck that this term, which is easily the busiest I’ve had at Carleton, I’m also taking a class studying religions in Chinese culture. Right now we’re studying Daoism, and part of my homework tonight was to read excerpts from the Daodejing and Zhaungzi.
I really enjoyed this parable about a useless tree, so instead of complaining about some Carleton related thing, I decided to just summarize the story of the tree.
A carpenter comes upon an enormous tree. “It was broad enough to shelter several thousand oxen and measured a hundred spans around, towering above the hills.”
When the carpenter wishes to cut it down, his master says “Forget it – say no more! It’s a worthless tree! Make boats out of it and they’d sink… It’s not a timber tree - there’s nothing it can be used for. That’s how it got to be that old!”
The tree comes to the carpenter in a drean and tells him that it is purposefully useless. It says, “The rest of those fructiferous trees and shrubs – as soon as their fruit is ripe, they are are torn apart and subjected to abuse… Their utility makes life miserable for them… I’ve been trying a long time to be of no use.”
He continues, “Moreover, you and I are both of us things. What’s the point of this – things condemning things? You, a worthless man about to die – how do you know I’m a worthless tree?”
Today, the new graduation requirements, which I’ve described at the bottom of the post, were presented to the faculty for the first time. Because I’m on the Education and Curriculum Committe, I got to sit in on the faculty meeting. The faculty seemed initially supportive of the new requirements (we expected and immediate outcry).
I’ve been dealing with this issue for almost a year now, and I think the new graduation requirements are great. Right now, we have a system that arbitrarily says you must visit at least four departments. The new system not only gives a reason and logic to the requirements, but it actually decreases the total number of requirements.
Although I am disappointed that ECC failed to address either Language Requirement or the Writing Portfolio, both of which need serious work, I’m very happy with the new curriculum. We’ll see what the faculty says once they have a time to really think about the requirements.
Sunset over Boliou
Full Class Requirements
- Argument and Inquiry Seminar (essentially a freshmen seminar with a writing component)
- Humanistic Inquiry focusing on historical, cultural, ethical, and/or intellectual contexts.
- Literary/Artistic Analysis focusing on the analysis of literature, visual art, or performance.
- Artistic Expression, requiring that students in some way create or practice art.
- Natural Science, a science class which includes a lab requirement.
- Formal Reasoning, focused on math, computer science, and other logic based endeavors.
- Social Inquiry, focusing on the social sciences.
Overlays
- Two Writing Rich classes
- Three “encounters” with quantitative reasoning.
- One class focusing on International Studies
- One class with discussion of Intercultural Domestic Studies
- The Language Requirement
- Four terms of PE
Other Proposals
- 3-credit Senior Integrative Exercise
- Maximum of 18 prematriculation credits (only 18 credits from AP tests)
- Pilot of the peer led Intergroup Relations
- Less requirements in general
Donations to Carleton make up ten percent of the annual income. They paid for the new dorms to be built, and they’re going to pay for the Arts Union, whenever it gets built. The Campaign for Carleton has raised 216 of the 300 million dollar goal. Where does all this money come from?
Volunteer for Carleton
One huge annual fundraising push is Volunteer for Carleton. I spent an hour at this week writing postcards to alumni, in exchange for a free hat and pizza. Other students call alumni to ask for donations, and it’s something that some students get really into.
President Oden spends much of his time campaigning as well. Here’s a video of him trying to lure Class of 2004 Alumni to their reunion this year.
Everyone is wringing their hands this year wondering if donations are going to collapse as the financial crisis siege mode starts to sink in.
It’s obvious to anyone who shops at the bookstore that the prices are outrageous. I, like many other Carleton students, spend hundreds of dollars there every term. For my Japanese textbook last term, I paid $20 more than cover price.
The bookstore
CSA is currently working on a textbook swapping network. The network would be an online database open to anyone with Carleton ID. Students will be able to list the books they own and search for the books they want. Once the students know who has the books they want, they will then work out a fair price on their own.
There are positive aspects to the bookstore, but in the end it is unreasonable to ask low-income students to pay the high prices. Students need an alternative.
The text book swapping network should be up and running for next term.
This is the story of how I drove 1,300 miles to watch Obama’s inauguration, and missed the whole thing.
Last winter, I went home to Iowa and got a job working for Barack Obama’s caucus campaign. After one month of intense campaigning, I got to witness his electrifying victory speech. Last summer, I traveled to Denver to see his nomination before a crowd of 80,000.
When Obama won in November, I decided to travel to DC to see the inauguration. I just wanted to be part of the crowd that day, witness to the historic moment. As the day drew nearer, I even managed to get tickets for my friends and me. I couldn’t believe my luck when I saw the tickets. They were Purple Tickets, meaning we would be just a few hundred meters from Obama.
On the day of the inauguration we decide to go early. At 4:50AM the Metro is packed. Downtown, crowds move through the streets. There are barricades scattered over the area, and police can be found on every corner. We watch as 30 policemen ride by on bikes.
Police on the street at 5AM
When we arrive at the purple gate with our purple tickets, the line is already stretching around the corner and down the street. It leads into an underground tunnel. There are cops blocking off the tunnel, and they won’t allow anyone in unless they have a purple ticket. We jog down the tunnel to get a better spot in line. By the time we get there, we’re covered in sweat.
The tunnel is lit by neon lights and covered in a thick layer of dirt. We settle down to start waiting, knowing that the gates open at 9:00AM. There’s one security guard and she’s sleeping in her car with the motor on. As we stand in line, we watch a flow of people walk past us to take their own place in the line.
Above us, the largest political demonstration in history is gathering before the steps of the capital. Two million onlookers are filing into the mall, stretching from the capital to the Lincoln Memorial. We could not be more excited.
The tunnel
During the wait, we start talking to the people around us. We meet little elderly women from North Carolina, Iraq war veterans, and Obama organizers. Everyone is thrilled at the opportunity of a lifetime.
We meet Debby, a middle-aged black woman who came alone from San Francisco to see Obama. She bought a huge winter coat to deal with the 20 degree weather. After hours of standing, she decides to sit in the dirt. Many in the tunnel are trembling in the cold.
Debby from San Francisco
9AM comes and goes. The flow of humanity walking past us to join the line continues uninterrupted. At one point, we count 60 people walking by in 60 seconds. We estimate that there are perhaps 7,000 people in line behind us.
The guard who is sleeping in her car wakes up, turns on her siren, and drives away. Conviction grows in the crowd that we will keep our place in line. Some people hold hands along the line to keep anyone from jumping in. Someone says, “That’s why we’re not moving forward, because people keep cutting!”
At 9:30AM, the line has still barely moved. Every once in awhile we move forward a few feet, and there’s a cheer in the line. Outside the tunnel, the sun rises.
Two in our group decide to go out and get coffee. After 20 minutes, they still haven’t come back. They call and tell us in worried voices that they can’t get through the mob. When they do make it back, they come with an image of the chaos outside the tunnel. They describe being caught in the mob, unable to move. In their panic, they left the coffee.
The cops are gone.
Chaos outside the tunnel
At 10AM, things are getting worse in the tunnel. One woman walks down the line shouting “Look around you at who doesn’t belong! Point them out! Throw them out of the line!” From somewhere deep in the tunnel, we can hear shouting. We continue to haltingly progress, somewhat faster now.
People continue to flow past us, and all of them have purple tickets. We start to wonder, “Should we warn them about how long the line is?” We estimate that there are at least 10,000 people in the line behind us.
Finally, we make enough progress that we’re on the street instead of in the tunnel. We cheer as we see police ride by on bikes. There are other police and FBI agents wandering around aimlessly. By 10:30AM, the line is losing cohesion.
I stand on a windowsill to get a better view, and I know at once that it’s hopeless. The line leads to an intersection which is filled with hundreds of people. Some of them are standing on cars and yelling. This crowd stands in between us and the purple gate, and everyone in the crowd has purple tickets. I can’t see any cops at all.
The mob standing between us and the purple gate
At 11:00AM, we give up. By now, the mall is full and all of its entrances are barricaded. Everywhere we go, there are angry crowds huddled around the security gates. When we had planned to travel to DC, I knew I just wanted to be part of the crowd. Now I realize that it’s impossible. I was doomed by my Purple Ticket.
We begin aimlessly wandering through DC looking for a television. The only way is to move away from the crowds and into the DC Chinatown. We find a Chinese restaurant named “First Eat Restaurant,” and sit down.
The TV is black and white, and the radio is playing pop radio above us. While Yo Yo Ma plays at the capital, we hear Let It Be by the Beatles. While Rick Warren speaks, we hear “It’s too late to apologize” by One Republic.
We watched the inauguration on the tv next to the fiberoptic christmas tree.
Obama starts to speak, and when I ask the staff to turn off the radio, they misunderstand and turn it up. The staff sits down in front of us and begins having a heated discussion in Cantonese. The food is terrible.
One of my friends opens her fortune cookie and finds, “Let us train our minds to desire what the situation demands.” She also gets food poisoning.
Later that day, we see a statement from the police chief of DC claiming that everyone who had a ticket got in. We pack our bags and begin the twenty-hour drive home.
The satellite photo shows plenty of space in the ticketed sections
Afterwards, we learned what had happened. The scanners at the purple gate failed and were never repaired. There were several medical emergencies confusing the situation, as people fell ill due to the cold. After it was clear that the main gate was not going to open, a back gate was opened to let some people in. Similar problems plagued the other gates.
A few of my friends fought through the mob and managed to get in. They found that the purple section was less than half full, and there was extra room in the yellow section as well. There was room for thousands more, people just weren’t being let in.
There could easily have been a riot among the tens of thousands who were denied access, but we were hopeful to the end. We couldn’t imagine that there would be absolutely no plan about how to get people in, or that the authorities would throw up their hands and disappear. I can’t help but think of all the people we met in line, many of whom had traveled thousands of miles on the promise of the historic moment.
On the trip back, we were unable to stop ourselves from pouring over every detail of the morning. What if we had given up earlier? What if we had found a different entrance? What if we had never been given tickets. These questions won’t help, and really, our exclusion from the event wasn’t the tragedy it seems like. Obama was inaugurated without us, and I’ve been overwhelmed by everything he’s done in his first two days.
My experience of the inauguration was just as real as those who were on the mall. I was there in the tunnel at 5AM with other unlucky souls who received purple tickets. I wanted to be part of the crowd, and I was.
A few nights ago there was a traffic jam in Burton Dining Hall. There were no cups, trays, or forks, and the lines were long. Everyone is complaining about the dining halls, and I’ve heard open hostility against the dining hall staff. I asked one of my friends to write a guest blog about the state of dining at Carleton.
Workers of Burton, Unite!
Well they haven’t yet, but Burton dining is ripe for a communist revolution. The workers are being overworked, underpaid, and sadly we Carleton students often blame them for the decline in service. As a Burton dining insider, I am here to tell you all to calm down and stop being rude and complaining to people who are trying their hardest to make a living under unfair conditions.
Bon Appetit is in trouble. They’ve lost around $180,000 in overtime pay alone, and have lost an additional $200,000 for other reasons. In response, they have cut jobs, hourly wages, and increased the workload to an unfair level. For instance, the ladies who swipe cards have had to accept a $5 per hour pay cut. With our economy’s situation, they have little choice but to accept this.
In the beginning of the year, staff was already short. They were constantly looking for more cooks and dishwashers to assist with the more intricate preparation required of Bon Appetit’s food. When this lead to a loss of revenue, they increased everyone’s workload without a subsequent pay raise. We have all experienced the result this has had on service. The employees simply cannot work as hard as they are being told to.
Bon Appetit’s management blames the cooks and other workers for the situation. The cooks in turn, blame the management for not having a hold on the situation. It’s not the workers’ fault, so I ask you all as their friend to go easy on them, they’re suffering much more than you are when you have to wait two extra minutes for your onion rings.
In December, I saw a movie by Israeli film maker Michal Lavi, the sister of Carleton sophomore Moshe Lavi. The short documentary was titled Family Mediterranean Fever, and it focused on the trials of the Lavi family living in the Southern region bordering the Gaza Strip. Their home was constantly bombarded by Kassan rockets. The film opened with the line, “When the Red Dawn alarm sounds, it means a missile attack is 17 seconds away.”
The film was a moving and deeply personal account of life in the region and the siege mentality that the constant attacks engendered. Seeing the film presented by Michal and Moshe Lavi was the first time I had heard about the constant rocket attacks against Israel.
Now, as the Israeli invasion continues and criticism mounts, I think of the film and it adds another perspective to the conflict.
Photo from The Big Picture
