I hoped it would never come to this. I fear I may be turning into a broken record.
I wish it didn't have to be this way, but so long as Dartmouth keeps coming up with new ways to amaze (read: shock, horrify and dismay) me, the College will keep forcing my hand.
At least I will try to come up with some new words to express my surprise and frustration, but the message is pretty much the same. Just in case memories are a little fuzzy, though, here's a quick recap.
Most Dartmouth students will not know this, but the College used to have a Human Biology program. It was an interdisciplinary program, which offered courses about the complex interaction between human health and important topics such as politics, technology and the humanities. Classes were team-taught by enthusiastic professors from the arts and sciences. Students consistently rated the department's courses as among their favorites on campus.
Good teachers, important issues, satisfied students -- sounds like a good program, right?
Well, the reason most students today will not know it ever existed is that the College allowed Human Biology to die in 2003. After the initial grant that founded the program expired, it would have cost the College $61,000 per year to pick up the tab and maintain this great department.
Nope, too expensive, the College said. This decision mystified me. But I loved Dartmouth -- still do -- and wanted to give College leaders the benefit of the doubt.
Then came the demise of the Office of Speech last year, which is still fresh enough that students may recall some of the details. The Office of Speech was really just one man, Professor Jim Kuypers, who for a decade taught courses about the theory, history and practice of rhetoric that were among the most popular classes on campus. Speech sections were always overfilled, and Kuypers taught as many classes as he could. He repeatedly pleaded with Dartmouth's administration for the help his program had been promised -- more teachers, more support.
Popular classes, important subject, high student demand -- sounds like a good investment for the College, right?
Well, instead of expanding the program, the College perpetually reneged on its promises. No money, the College said. Not the right time for new hires. Finally, after years of being left to fend for himself, and after having his discipline (rhetoric -- the original liberal art) denigrated by a few College leaders in a baffling show of contempt, Kuypers got the message and left. Now there is no Office of Speech.
This infuriated me, and I wrote as much here in this column. Still, I hoped that my growing suspicions were wrong.
Flash forward to this term, when the College announced that it would not pick up the tab to continue the Departmental Editing Program (DEP). The DEP, until now privately financed by a local alum, placed trained editors (often former high school teachers) in some of the College's departments, where their sole purpose was to work one-on-one with students to help them improve their writing. Writing might be the single most important skill for academic success, to say nothing about success in the professional world. So it would seem like any program that makes a real impact on student writing is worthy of praise. And the DEP did just that.
Professors said that student writing was "transformed" following work with an editor. More departments started to request editors. A former student credited the DEP with helping him to rediscover "the love of learning that brought me to Dartmouth." Even the Chair of Dartmouth's Writing Program noted that the DEP "has been a positive addition. I do not see the DEP as competition for other on-campus writing resources; rather, I see it as complementary."
Real results, pleased professors, transformed students -- sounds like the kind of investment in learning that ought to be expanded, right?
Nope, the College has decided. Too expensive. It would be too hard to hire more editors; they would have to be recruited from across the country, and there might not be enough desks and offices for them.
So you will pardon me if I am tempted to stop giving Dartmouth the benefit of the doubt.
A pattern is emerging, and it ought to be a disturbing one for people who believe that -- shock of shocks! -- educating students ought to be the College's top priority. Through their actions, Dartmouth's administrators have made it clear that, when it comes to their list of priorities, education is not at the top. Not by a long shot.
How else can you explain the repeated decisions to kill programs that were producing real results for students, while costing little compared to so many of the other peripheral pet projects that the College cannot seem to stop shoveling money at? I'll be damned if I can come up with a better explanation, and if the leaders of this College have one, I would sure love to hear it. Any reason would be better than the same lame excuse they have trotted-out time and time again: money.
Reading this paper recently, I was pleased to note that the College had announced -- with no small amount of glee -- that Dartmouth's endowment made 14.4 percent returns on investment last year, and now tops $2.7 billion. That is a pretty hefty chunk of change. The College's operating budget isn't too shabby, either. And, just to make sure that Dartmouth stays in such fine financial shape, I feel certain that tuitions will continue to rise, and that the Great Alumni Shakedown will continue unabated.
So the problem is not money. Dartmouth has no shortage of that. The problem is that the people who are in charge of spending that money would simply rather spend it on something else.
One more time, I'm going to have to disagree with that choice. And I have a sinking suspicion that this will not be the last time, either.
I guess that makes me a broken record. Problem is, I'm not the only thing broken around here.
