Art Attack
Much has been made of the “Vandalism” incident in the Art Building.
There’s only one problem. It can’t, by any regular stretch, really be considered vandalism.
Somebody, in the wee morning hours of Nov. 12, broke into the Whitworth Koehler Gallery, took down the Official Featured Art, and replaced it with the art from the student gallery. The art, despite being worth $11,000, wasn’t damaged. Vandalism usually has a downright cavalier, hasty, attitude towards what they are vandalizing. Vandals, usually, are not worried about damaging property. They didn’t have a “vandalish” approach to the issue. The vandal’(s’) handling of the art, from what I read, seems downright dainty.
Frankly, I’ve seen more destructive vandalism in the average North Central High School bathroom stall.
Walk up to the second floor of the HUB. There, you’ll see an old black-and-white photograph of Whitworth students smiling in front of two stolen Gonzaga University (or possibly “College” at that point) signs. One of the signs has the word etched out.
Now that could be considered vandalism (not to mention theft.) But because this was back in the good ol’ days of the college-students-will-be-college-students mentality, it’s lionized and commemorated rather than condemned.
The art situation, however, doesn’t even sink to the level of prank. The word “prank” has an immature, sophomoric tinge to it.
Instead, I’d argue, replacing professional pieces with student pieces is as much a piece of Art as anything in the art building. It makes a clear succinct statement: pointing out the hazy edge between “professional” and “amateur” art. What makes the sculptures of Ruben Trejo worth $11,000, while student sculptures are — at least monetarily– practically worthless? What makes “good” art is an unceasing question of debate in academia. This act of “vandalism” deftly highlights the arguably arbitrary nature of judging art. (There’s an interesting discussion in the comments section of this post about whether even blatant vandalism can, in fact, be a form of artistic expression.)
(Note: The title of “vandalism” isn’t The Whitworthian’s fault. If security calls it “vandalism,” the newspaper is obligated to call it the same)
I’ve seen a lot of students get angry about what happened. They seem upset mainly because of the fact that the doors are now being locked at night for the art building. (Whitworth’s response to almost any safety concern, including slippery ice or thunderstorms, will invariably be to lock more doors, more often.) This is, understandably, intolerable for the busy art student. They need the late hours to be able to produce quality pieces.
Students should direct their anger to the policy, not the action that precipitated the policy. It’s sad that years and years and years of nothing bad happening in the Art building, is thrown away simply for the notion that something bad could happen, someday.
There’s a curious air of mystery, furthermore, to the situation. The Koehler art gallery is locked, late at night. Yet, apparently, such locks didn’t stop the “vandal” from breaking in. (You could make a far better case for breaking and entering, than vandalism, I’d think.)
So whodunit? Was it a person with a key — a staff or faculty member, or somebody on security or custodial services? Did somebody just forget to lock it and the perps took advantage of this mistake? Or can the Koehler Gallery’s, like Warren Mechanical room, latch just be slid aside with a thin piece of metal? Was it Colonel Mustard, with the Slim Jim, in the Art Gallery?
Either way, more work should be put into reinforcing security for the Koehler door. Keep the outside doors unlocked so students can work on their “amateur” pieces late at night, while protecting the “valuable” pieces from acts of “vandalism” that leave them undamaged.
Is corporate charity used as an escape from the demands of justice?
“Charity used to escape demands for justice furthers oppression,” said Nick Wolterstoff in a lecture he gave at Whitworth 3 years ago. Wolterstoff was talking about Afrikaaners (of which I am one) in South Africa giving charity to poor black people while oppressing them with their racist Apartheid politics.
Should Whitworth have a GSA?
I have been pushing since my sophomore year for a Gay-Straight Alliance to be chartered at Whitworth– to no avail. As far as I can tell, the barrier is being placed by Administration. It seems that many students, even students who do not support homosexuality, see the merit of a club aimed at helping GLBT students integrate into Whitworth community. What are your thoughts on this? Should Whitworth Administration at least allow students (through ASWU) to make this decision, or is it appropriate for them to simply lay down the law on an issue (homosexuality) that they claim not to take an institutional stance on? Would you like to see a GSA on campus?
Clinging to Comfortable Illusions
One of my favorite plays of all time (which I’ve only read, not seen performed) is Henrick Ibsen’s An Enemy of the People. In it, a doctor in a small coastal community makes a disturbing discovery. The hot springs, which the entire town’s tourism — its livelihood, it’s economy — is based on, are contaminated. Tourists are falling ill.
When the doctor attempts to inform the town about the story, however, the town condemns him. He’s harassed, mocked, driven to debt, and made him a pariah. The town isn’t willing to risk financial ruin and the disruption of community.
A lot has been written about Whitworth’s obsession with community. The word ‘community’ has gone from serious earnestness, to a PR catchphrase, to annoying overuse, to a sarcastic punchline.
Most of such commentary, however, focuses on the desire of faculty, staff, and adminstration to have a community that is pristine, perfect, and most of all, peaceful. How anything that doesn’t match the Whitworth of the glossy brochures, is pushed aside or hurriedly placated to avoid the possibility of conflict, hurt feelings, or frowny faces. That’s understandable. Part of the job of student life is to make people feel comfortable.
But what I haven’t realized until this year, was just how widespread students seemed to share these beliefs. It isn’t just about them wanting to avoid the nasty unpleasantness of disagreement. It’s often about not wanting to know about bad things. It’s about clinging to comfortable illusions with white-knuckles. Anything that has the utter audacity to tear them from that candy-coated fantasy is to be despised.
Maybe part of this is reaction to last years messy, out-of-control conflicts like the 8th of May and the oddly-escalated racial controversies. These, understandably, left a bad taste in many Whitworth student mouths. But now it seems the person who points out the flaws, who breaks the illusions, is the enemy, not the flaws themselves.
Let’s say (in this very hypothetical scenario) The Whitworthian found out that Bill Robinson was stealing money from the college, and the paper printed a sourced, researched and factual 2000-word expose.
My guess is the public response from Whitworth students would be horror, anger, and condemnation. Toward The Whitworthian.
“Why would the Whitworthian every print such a destructive story. It’s ruining our community.” Ignorance is bliss, the thinking goes, and why would anyone want to take away our bliss?
It’s seems like some students would rather The Whitworthian paint Whitworth in pastels, reprinting press releases with just a dollop of added flair, and glossing over anything that may be reflect negatively on Whitworth’s pre-fab reputation.
Whitworth would prefer to remain located permanently in the Stepford precinct of Pleasantville. Certainly not in the gritty and gravelly tangled mess of reality.
One of my favorite quotes from Inherit the Wind (a play about the Scopes Trial) deals with the price of knowledge. “You may conquer the air; but the birds will lose their wonder, and the clouds will smell of gasoline.”
Are Whitworth students willing to make that sacrifice? Are they willing to sacrifice comfort for knowledge, illusion for truth?
Is The Whitworthian biased?
When I saw the front page of this week’s Whitworthian I rolled my eyes. The main headline reads, “Pirates sent packing,” in reference to the soccer teams second round losses in the NCAA Division III tournament.
To me, that’s an awful tone for reporting the end to exemplary seasons for both teams.
The headline makes me think of a Mariner’s reliever rushed back to the minor leagues.
But, these teams aren’t minor-league-caliber teams. They’re really good. They consistently stand well in our division and they’ve been nationally ranked.
So why the disdain?
I sense a bias against the sports teams which I’ve felt before. In addition I’ve noticed a bias against Whitworth in general, as if the Newspaper staff is never happy it attends here.
Granted, a newspaper should be critical and maintain editorial distance. That said, what sort of attitude do you feel The Whitworthian holds towards Whitworth, and do you approve of that attitude?
Of course, I must issue a disclaimer: I write for The Whitworthian, but this post is in no way connected to the school sanctioned publication.
Whitworth Up.
The documentary series “Seven up!” starts with a very ambitious goal: To record the dreams, hopes, and conditions of fourteen British seven-year olds, and then, every seven years, check up on them. The first movie “Seven up” led to “Seven plus seven,” “35 up” and, most recently, “49 up.”
It would be interesting to do such a similar thing for a group of Whitworth students, over their four (or five) years of college.
Take the hall of my freshmen year. After trundling up the stairs with my suitcases and bending dozens of nails trying to get my high school posters to work on the wall, I met the infamous members of Third West Warren. Obviously, at the point of freshmen handshakes and name-games, I had no idea what would become of the motley crew of 20 disheveled college students.
That the eager energetic tennis player would become the student body president.
That the gangly thespian who could peel bananas with his toes, and his wide-eyed hyper compatriot would later lead the college improv troupe.
That the kid idealistically pursuing the girl that clearly, wasn’t interested in him would later get engaged to that girl.
That the guy who played a lot of World of Warcraft, would, now today, have a level 70 Blood Elf paladin. It’s inspiring.
Then there’s the people that seemed like they’ll become major forces on campus, but instead burrowed into their own niche. That’s not to say they weren’t successful, just that the chose a path that led them off-campus. It’s harder to see exactly who they’ve become because of that.
How about the people your freshman halls? Who did they become? How did they change? Or, for you freshmen, who do you think your current comrades will become?
Opinions are opinions are opinions
[Updated on November 11, 2007)
Every so often on the Forum, I will briefly doff my pajamas of blogging, and slip into the fedora, sports coat, and old-timey mustache of my position of Whitworthian Opinions Editor.
The entire purpose of an Opinions section is to serve as a collection of variety of articulate views. We have 11 different columnists those. But even with more columnists and a larger opinions section than most weekly papers, we can't hope to show the entire spectrum of Whitworth views. It's just too wide.
That's why it's important to get views from outside the Whitworthian staff. Right now, we do this in the form of Letters to the Editor and the occasional guest column. Soon, we'll start printing comments that were posted on www.whitworthian.com. And finally, I'm going to start considering posts on the forum, yes, this forum, for publication in the Whitworthian. If you write a particularly insightful well-researched post, I'll contact you to ask if you can pare it down (or extend it) to publishable size.
Then I'll lay it out on a page and we'll print off 2500 copies.
How does that sound?
[Update] Upon further conversation, it’s unlikely that The Whitworthian would actually reprint a forum post. (That may help address some of your concerns, Kyle.) Jessica Davis, the online content editor, hopes to approach forum writers, and ask them if they would be interested in writing a guest column or op-ed in the Whitworthian, as a way to bring traffic to both the forum and the Whitworthian.
Scattered Observations on the new Card Access System
1. The proximity access system is MUCH more convenient than having to reach deep into your pocket, fumble for your keys, try several of the wrong keys, and then try the right key upside down, try to turn it the wrong way, before then and only then gaining access to the shelter you seek.
2. Still, of course, it’s not quite as convenient as my Freshman and Sophomore year, where all you had to do to gain access to a dorm was to pull gently on the handle. But those were simpler, idealistic times. Times where the greatest threat to Whitworth Security was that someone, somewhere might step on the grass in the loop.
3. The timed alarm is set for 15 seconds, at least in Arend. I have set it off accidentally. It sounds like a timex watch alarm looping for all eternity.
4 . Fortunately, the alarms seem to work more on an annoying-you-to-shutting-the-door-as-quickly-as-possible basis, rather than an Air-Raid-Siren-Summoning-the-Full-Force-of-The-Whitworth-Security-Cavalry basis.
5. False alarms are far, far, more common than they should be. Remember the story of the boy who cried wolf? This is the story of the alarm that cried “Bweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!”
6. You know that part in Dumb and Dumber where Jim Carrey says “Hey, wanna hear the most annoying sound in the world, and then precedes to demonstrate the most annoying sound in the world? They took that sound, dialed the pitch up by several octaves, and then used that as the “Forced Entry” alarm sound.
7. Comically, in several dorms, the Forced Entry alarm goes off every time someone exits. There are little sensors above the doors that are supposed to detect somebody exiting and, therefore, not set off the alarm. They don’t work all that well. Even if they did, all it would take would be a casual prankster to slap a strip of blue tape on the sensor, and you’ve got the alarms going off at every exit, again.
8. I’m curious to figure out if security is notified, live, when and where the alarms are going off. At this point, I haven’t seen security respond to any off the alarms that I’ve accidentally set off so far. Currently, there’s no way for security to tell the difference between a real alarm and a false alarm.
So from what I can tell, the card system is a smashing success. The alarm system, however, can only be considered a success from a comedic standpoint. Every time that alarm goes off, you simply shake your head at yet another dysfunction of technology.
Why you hate Core 350 so very, very, much.
You know you hate it. You know that whenever the phrase “Core 350″ is mentioned your throat constricts, your blood bubbles and boils, and your fingernails curl back into your bone.
The problem with the phrase, “Core 350,” of course, is that it is associated with the class Core 350.
“Ah, Daniel,” you say “You just hate Core 350 because you’re currently in Core 350, and are still reeling from your policy paper.”
Incorrect. I’m not currently in Core 350. I’ve already finished that class. My long academic nightmare is finally over. If anything, nostalgia has sugarcoated my memory of that class. Time and distance has a way of dulling the pain.
“Ah, Daniel,” you say “You just didn’t pick the right discussion group.”
Again, hypothetical questioner, you’re wrong. While many discussion groups had terrible topics like “Plants, Gender, and Steel Tariffs” or “Technology and Pastries,” I actually had an awesome discussion group.
It dealt with Censorship, one of my few pet topics, and featured Gordon Jackson, one of my favorite professors. The times we actually dealt with censorship was a breath of fresh air. But any actual censorship discussion was bookended by the horrific specter of the larger class.
The horror. The horror.
Core 350 is the third wheel of Core classes. If Core 150 is Raiders of the Lost Ark, Core 250 would be Last Crusade, and Core 350 would be Temple of Doom. And believe me, it will rip your heart out.
But let’s not be satisfied with just firing a barrage of insults and ad hominem attacks at the poor class- although that’s fun too.
Let’s make like Derrida and deconstruct the sorry thing. Let’s figure out exactly why you and I despise this class. Using bold sub-heads, of course.
The Purpose. Western Civilization 150 and 250 deal with, well, Western Civilization. Core 150 examines the rise of religion and Christianity in particular. Core 250 looks at Western Philosophers. Core 350 looks at… uh… policies? Globalization? Worldview? Al Gore? Why racism is bad?
We don’t really know. The syllabus lazily drifts over dozens of different topics, never really focusing on a purpose, never answering the question “Why in the heck am I being required to take this class?” Is it that the class trying to make us insufferable cliched college activists? Are we trying to learn a Jackson Pollack-like smattering of fad issues?
I mean, it makes since that we’d have a Core 350. We had a Core 150 and 250, and Core 350 comes next in the pattern. But even if the class was entirely about Art history or, say, Jesus and the Kingdom of God, at least it would have an obvious, identifiable purpose.
The Lack of an Ideal Audience: It’s understandable that those bored by politics would despise having to repeatedly listen to two-hour lectures about it. But those who love politics have to like Core 350, right?
No.
I was a political junkie in high school. I’ve read the editorial opinions section of the Spokesman-Review since I was in 5th grade. I follow blogs religiously. When I met George Nethercutt in Junior high, I wanted to ask him about term limits.
But just like Ulysses almost made me give up on reading all together, Core 350 almost made me never want to vote again. And not in the way a good political science class does, by showing the corruption of the system.
Core 350 skirts over the complexity of many political issues, presents them one-sided, dumbs them down, and somehow — I’m not quite sure why — sucks all the drama and energy out of them. Maybe it’s that these issues work better in small discussion format. Whitworth works better in small discussion format. We aren’t UW. Large lectures are a dead, stuffy, medium. Core 150 and 250 somehow, by the power of Beebe and Baird, makes it work. Core 350 can’t.
The Lack of the perfect lecturer. Core 150 has the flirtatious, alliterative duo of Beebe and Burns. What they lack in gravitas, they make up for in chemistry. They’re a signed contract and small Brooklyn apartment away from being a hit ’90’s sitcom.
Core 250 has two of the biggest pillars of Whitworth headlining it. There’s the augustan Leonard Oakland, with his unmistakable reverberating baritone sounding, as always, like Sly Stallone channeling Christopher Walken. Even his name is perfect. “Oakland.” If I was writing a novel featuring a prestigious professor who wears tweed jackets, smokes a pipe, and has hundreds of books in his study I would have to call him, “Dr. Oakland,” And of course, there’s the Baird of Spokane, Forrest. This is a man who loves philosophy so much he named his son after Kierkegaard. That’s commitment.
Core 350 has a psychology teacher and a philosophy teacher teaching political science. That’s not to say that Waller and Wyma (also alliterative, oddly) aren’t stellar in their respective areas. I’ve heard raving reviews about both of them in small classes. Waller’s book, Becoming Evil, was one of the few academic things that interested me about Whitworth before coming here. But neither of them are incredible large group lecturers. They may recite facts and philosophies, but never in a way that is really interesting. That’s partly because — since each of them seem agenda driven — the lectures seem more like sermons. You expect each lecture to end with the exhortation: “Let’s go out there and end racism!” Or possibly a prayer. “In the name of the Father, the Son, and the coming Global Warming disaster, amen.”
Core 150 and 250 were descriptive. They showcased modes of thoughts, development of historical realities. Core 350 is all about how we’re supposed to live, what we are supposed to do. And if you disagree with that, you better bring some Visine. Because your eyes are going to be mighty dry from all your eye-rolling.
ASWU Constituency Report Tally (As of November 1): 2
[Note: This post was edited on September 7th.]
For you freshmen, you uninitiated in the ways of student government, you may not realize how mind-blowingly huge the number “2″ is.
Consider this: When I was dorm senator, back in the halcyon days of 2005-2006, we only did two constituency reports the entire year. And they were crappy ones. The ASWU has already tied that number in but a few scant months.
Even if these constituency report questions were entirely useless (”If you were trapped on a Desert Island and could only bring one Core 150 book, which Core 150 book would you bring? And you can’t pick Deep River“,) they still would serve a valuable purpose. The fact that dorm senators and reps are out there, mixing it up with the plebes, means they’re more likely to get a feel of what students actually think.
In the past, the ASWC has been a victim of groupthink. The best cure for groupthink, of course, is a healthy dose of outside opinion. Constituency reports make this antidote an inevitability.
Of course, if the right question is asked, it’s even better. Let’s go through the two constituency reports and analyze what went well, and what didn’t. And, since we’re a perfectionist grade-obsessed culture I thought I’d give an arbitrary grade to each of them.
Let’s hit them one by one, in chronological order:
Consituency Report #1: Trustee-a-polooza.
One of my major complaints in the past has been the narrowly specific nature of consituency report questions. Most of them were purely financial. “Do you think ASWU should spend a gajillion dollars of unallocated funds to bring Squeaky the Zany Presbyterian Clown to Whitworth?”
But check out this question: “If you could say one thing to the Board of Trustees about your experience at Whitworth so far this year, what would you say?”
Now there’s a question I can work with. These sort of questions allow students to determine ASWU’s agenda. These questions raise issues and concerns, preventing ASWU from devolving into an hour long back-patting session.
The sheer number and diversity of responses is incredible… until you try to catalog them all, look for trends, and figure out what people really meant.
(I have the Word Doc with all the responses on it, but don’t know how or where to attach them for download. )
The trouble with the compilation is that it lacked sourcing. If you read the document you’ll see a a LOT of words, a lot of statements, and a lot of anonymity. Statements that had more than one person say them were bolded.
But exactly how many students agreed with the bolded statement? It’s a big difference between 5 students saying they think the doors should be unlocked and fifty students.