I submitted this letter to my college classmates in hopes that they would continue to support our old school, in spite of some recent revelations/charges against the administration. It’s not a slice of life. It’s more of a reflection.
“Do I contradict myself? Very well then, I contradict myself. (I am large; I contain multitudes).” I remember writing an English paper about Buck Mulligan’s quoting of Walt Whitman in Ulysses. At first I think I just loved that line as a kind of get-out-of-arguments-free card to flip on the table whenever someone pointed out a weakness in my thinking. Writing about it, and thinking about how it related to the larger story, led me to see it in a more meaningful way, not just as a casual throwaway or as a license for wishy-washiness. I came to see it as an argument for openness to conflicting opinions, mixed feelings, and divergent values. I saw it as an openness to my own imperfections and the imperfections of others. It spoke to the idea, also, that we evolve. I don’t know if you’ve ever dealt with this strange contradiction: I look back at who I was at age 18 and cringe at some of the foolish or shallow things that I said and did…but then I read some of the things I wrote in college papers and think, “I may have been smarter then than I am today.” Somehow, both of those beings were me. It’s not like those were my only ways of being. I was self-righteous. I was apathetic. I was curious. I was jaded. I was intolerant of people. I was intolerant of injustice. I was imperfect. And somehow, with the exception of the ill-advised hibachi-on-the-windowsill episode, Vassar allowed me to be all those contradictory beings, at least temporarily, feeding my mind, encouraging reflection, and tolerating my need to evolve.
I think this applies to other situations.
In the late 70s and early 80s, when coeducation at Vassar was still a recent development, I benefited from Vassar’s own form of affirmative action as the admissions department tried to lure more males to the school. While I joked about the burden of answering the “Isn’t that a girls’ school?” question, I recognized the irony of a white male receiving that gift. Privilege bestowed upon the already-privileged. There were other contradictions at that time, like a liberal school’s investments that demonstrated support of an illiberal system of apartheid in South Africa. At the same time, though, the school admitted and supported students who felt empowered to protest. The outspoken could always speak out at Vassar, calling out the imperfections they found.
Forty years later we learn of another contradiction: a school founded on the ideal of educating and empowering women may have discriminated against women faculty members. Really?! Well that’s an embarrassing and infuriating imperfection. It has to be temporary.
I’m still contributing to my college this year. I was privileged to attend, privileged to learn in the classrooms of those underpaid professors, privileged to have the chance to work on my own imperfections and contradictions. I’m giving back to my school because I know that we desperately need informed citizens, critical thinkers, problem solvers, and compassionate neighbors. Vassar has always fostered those skills and traits. My wife, Nancy (‘83) and I will continue to give, but, for a while at least, we’ll attach some strings. We’re asking that our money be used to support the salaries of women faculty members. Vassar contradicts itself. Vassar has flaws. Vassar contains multitudes. I’m optimistic that Vassar’s leaders can listen, reflect, and evolve.
FiveHundredaDay 