Agnes Scott Alumnae Magazine [1988-1990]

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OUT THE WINDOW

A campus often reflects the
currents of the rest ot the
world. Agnes Scott seems no
different. Our cover story on the
sciences explains the shortage ot
women and minorities in scientific
and technological fields, and what
Agnes Scott intends to do ahout it.
Key parts of the Centennial
Campaign will make those plans
possihle.

Alumna Margaret Beain '82, pro-
filed on Page 16, is just one example
of what Agnes Scott women achieve
when they do enter the sciences. Ms.
Beain is a payload specialist with
NASA's shuttle program.

On another track, the coming
presidential election has spawned
endless rhetoric ahout leadership and
how hadly the country needs it. The
article on Page 22 portrays the less visible leadership
of the trustees of the College. Unpaid, and often
recognized hy the campus at large, they grapple with
long-term issues facing the institution.

Last fall President Ruth Schmidt proclaimed this
the "Year of Diversity" on campus. This focus, and a
presidentially appointed Committee on Diversity,
has priimpted discussion and consideration of the
meaning of community, education, diversity and
belonging. The article on Page 26 by Managing
Editor Stacey Noiles looks at the experiences of
black students on predciminately white campuses.
She talked with administrators, students, faculty and
black alumnae in the course ot her research.

The College is working on its racial relatiims. The
annual Staley Lecture Series this year focused on
racism, led by the Rev. Rebecca Reyes, the first
Hispanic woman to he ordained a Presbyterian min-
ister. In one panel discussion, black staff and

students told some ot their experiences
with racism on campus. These
experiences tended to echo the view
of Robert E. Pollack, dean ot
Columbia College: "If you don't have
a friend of another race in college, it
becomes less likely that you will at any
point after that."

I can see some changes. 1 am white.
My daughter Jennifer, now 5, has long
had friends of other races in our East
Lake neighborhood. Yet not long ago
she came to me distressed after playing
next door with a friend who is black.
My neighbors had company, half a
dozen adults my daughter did not
know. "I don't know anyone's name,"
she cried. "Just ask Anna to introduce
you." I said. "1 did," Jennifer protest-
ed, "But they all look alike."
After stopping to consider the
vantage point of a waist-high 5-year-old, I realized
that in skin color, hair style, eye color and height,
this family did "all look alike" to her because she
didn't know them as individuals.

As a small community, Agnes Scott offers us the
chance to know one another as individuals. In
knowing each other, we face our differences. \X'e
can accept and celebrate them.

At the end of the Apostle Paul's hallmark
chapter on love in I Corinthians, he wrote: "Now,
we see through a glass darkly, but then face to
face." That sounds true tor me in race relations, too.

Knowing is not without conflict the kind of
give-and-take growing that happens in families all
the time. As 1 am known in relationships, 1 find
myself changed. When families or communities
really work, it seems that everyone struggles and
learns and changes. There is integration; and we all
become whole. Lynn Donham

Editor: Lynn nonh.iin, Mana^inf; Editor: StaLcy Noilos, Art Director: P. MkIlh.! Mcli.i, Editorial Assistant: .Angelic Jolin
Student Assistants: |ill |iird:in '^'0, l.cii^h Echols '^)\ , Editorial Advisory Board: l'>r. .Ayso llfj.i: Garden '(i(->, Susan Ketchin Edgerton '
Karen Green '8(i, Elizabeth Snitzer Hallman \S4, M:iry K. Ouen ];irboe '68, Tish Yoiinu KfcGutchen 7^, Becky Prophet, Dudley
S.inders, Lucia I low;ird Si:cniore 'dS, Elizabeth Srexenson '41

C:opynt;ht 1^88, Aj^nes Scott c:olle^;e. Published tluee tiine.s a year by the C>tice ot Publicitions, .Aeties Scott Gollege, Puttnck Hal
Gollef^e Avenue, Decatur, GiA lOOk^i, 404/571-6315. The magazine is published lor alumn.te .uid friends ot the Gollegc.
Postina.srer: Send address chan^;es to Office of Development and Public .Mf.iirv, .Allies Scott C'ollege, Decatur. G.A 30030.

Like other cotileni ot ihe m,iL;,i,iiiic,
tills .irticle retfects the opinion ot the unlet

and not the viewpiunt ot
the Gollege, its trustees, or administr.it ion.

TURNABOUT

CONTENTS

It was a bit oi a jar to read in an Agnes
Scott publication a letter that takes a
swipe at evolution and humanism
(Caro McDonald Smith '58, Fall 1987
Magazine).

1 had fondly supposed that anyone
with an Agnes Scott education, or, for
that matter, with a liberal arts back-
ground obtained anywhere, would
have a more accurate perception ot the
preeminent position both evolution
and humanism hold in the long history
of man's effort to arrive at truth.

What would Miss MacDougall
[Biology, 1919-1952) think of such
rejection ot the structure that supports
the science ot biology? What would
Miss Jackson [History, 1923-19521
think of the implied denigration ot
great thinkers down through the cen-
turies like Confucius, Buddha, Pro-
tagoras, Epicurus, Erasmus, and
Thoreau .'

To coin a phrase, they would proba-
bly turn over in their graves.

Helen Ridley Hartley '29
Boca Raton, Fla.

What a delightful surprise to find
myselt in the centerfold actually at
the center of the centerfold! Our class
of 1939 had the privilege of a pivot
point to look back to the beginning
and to look forward to the Centennial.
I feel awed with a sense of history I
Many thanks for the honor.

Mamie Lee Finger '39
Knoxville, Tenn.

1 very much enjoyed reading the arti-
cle on my career that appeared in the
spring issue of the Agnes Scott Alum-
nae Magazine. The article represented
my work well and conveys the strong
feelings 1 have regarding the future
that IS possible tor children with spe-
cial needs when their family members
and professionals work together.

Often I reflect on my education at
Agnes Scott and am eternally grateful
for the opportunity to study there. Fac-
ulty members at Agnes Scott were
wonderful models as well as teachers,
and it was from many of them that 1
acquired my zeal for learning and
teaching.

Rebecca R. Fewell '58
Seattle, WA

Agnes Scott
Alumnae Magazine

AGNES

scon

Spring 1988
Volume 66 Number 1

Page 10

Luring Scholars
to Science

Page 16

Payload Payoffs

Page 22

Black
and White
Does Not
Equal Gray

Subtle
Strengths

Page 26

Page 4
Lifestyles

Page 34
Finale

As the field faces
losing its critical
mass, science turns
to untapped sources
for nen' talent.

The long wait for the
next space shuttle
has not dimmed
alumna Margaret
Beam's enthusiasm
in the least.

How are black
students faring on
predominately white
college campuses
these days?

College trustees are
the often-invisible
anchors of an insti-
tution. The first of a
two-part look at
Agnes Scott's board.

LIFESTYLES

Howard's mountain
retreat parlays into
home design firm

ell the house. Get the
kids in the car. Leave
the Big City and that
high-pressure job. Build
your dream house over-
looking a lake in the
North Georgia mountains.

How often have you
been tempted to cash in
the chips and do just that?

Johnny and Natalie
Stratton Howard '53 did.
No regrets.

The Howards' head-for-
the-hills saga started in
1966. "I had been working
for the Hotpoint division
of General Electric for 20
years," Mr. Howard said.
"It was a real high pressure
job. One day I told Natalie
that if she wanted to see

me live past 40, we were
going to have to get out of
this mess."

Meanwhile, Mrs.
Howard, who has a chem-
istry degree from Agnes
Scott, had a mess of her
own, running a household
consisting of their three
young children Brad, Scott
and Cindy, and working
part time doing tracings for
an Atlanta architect.

Her part-time tracing
job, and study of draw-
ing and design books,
expanded to drawing house
plans tor friends in the
Howards' College Park
neighborhood. Before long
Mrs. Howard also was
drawing custom house
plans for the "airplane peo-
ple" who lived near
Hartsfield International
Airport. Her part-time job

was fast becoming a full-
time business.

But the Howards knew
that the time had come to
leave Atlanta and follow
their dream to live in a less
hectic environment north
of the city. So they sold
their nice house in the sub-
urbs, Mr. Howard turned
in his resignation, and
in December 1966 they
moved to North Georgia
and into their dream
house?

Not yet.

Finding someone in the
remote North Georgia
mountains to build a house
isn't quite as simple as
picking up the Yellow
Pages. At least that's not
how the unorthodox
Howards approached the
challenge.

"I was driving down the

road along Lake Burton,
and I saw this old man
building a boat dock," said
Mr. Howard. "I got out of
the car and asked him if
he knew anything about
building a house. He said
yes, so I asked him if he
would help me build ours.
His name was Ed Silber
and he was 83 years old.

"At first he said he
would work for free and
told me 'I'd do anything
just to get away from Miss
Carrie [his wife],' but I
couldn't let him do that,"
laughed Mr. Howard.

"So I paid him $2 an
hour and became his ap-
prentice," Mr. Howard
said. "I found another man
who did rock work and had
him lay the foundation,
and he [Silber] taught me
all about framing a house."

14 SPRING 1988

LIFESTYLES

They began work on the
1,800 square-foot, two-
story house in February
'67, and finished 3 months
later. But it wasn't exactly
equipped with all the mod-
em conveniences.

"We had to go down to
Wood's Store to get water
for drinking and cooking,"
Mrs. Howard said. "They
didn't charge us for it,
that's the way people just
help each other out up
here."

Fortunately this major
inconvenience was short-
lived.

"We had a spring on the
property, and I found out
from some of the locals
how to build a reservoir to
hold water for the house,"
Mr. Howard said.

But the family didn't
live happily ever after in
their new house.

Mrs. Howard drew a
plan for a bigger dream
house that they thought
would look perfect on a
one-acre knoll adjacent to
their property overlooking
the lake.

In March 1970 they sold
their "old" dream house
along with 35 acres to a
retired Atlanta physician
and bought the acre home-
site next to their remaining
9 acres.

The Howards' lake-view
residence is a two-story
gray-stained, cypress siding
country home with dormer
windows, front porch and
an adjoining two-car
garage.

Inside, Mrs. Howard
designed a marvelous,
open floor plan.

The Howards' beautiful

home has a special claim
to fame, too. It was used in
the movie "The Four Sea-
sons" starring Alan Alda
and Carole Burnett, filmed
in March of '80.

"At one time, we had 80
people from the film crew
up here for about 10 days,"
Mrs. Howard said.

"Because our house is
rustic, I let them nail over-
head lighting into our
exposed beams tor filming

Mrs. Howard said that she
seldom draws custom home
plans any more "Maybe
three or four a year."

While it's not unique tor
a residential designer to
offer a wide range ot floor
plan sizes in their home
plans books, Mrs. Howard
said that she tries to offer
special touches such as
French doors and split
rtoor plans for even her
smaller (under 1, 300-

" We had to go down to

Wood's Store to get water for

drinking and cooking.

They didn't charge us for it, diat's

the way people just

help each other out up here."

inside the house," she said.
"Of course, you couldn't
have done that in a more
finished house, but in our
house it just gave the
wooden beams a more dis-
tressed look."

But, quite bluntly, how
do the Howards manage
the mortgage payments on
such a mountain estate?

Natalie Howards' home
plans business was mean-
while growing by leaps and
bounds. In fact, it was
becoming a little over-
whelming for Mrs. Howard
to handle, so Mr. Howard
(who had been helping her
all along) decided to make
it official and became her
business partner.

In 1973, the Howards
incorporated the mail-
order home plan business,
Custom Home Plans Inc.

square-foot) home plans.

Mrs. Howard, whose
plans book features coun-
try homes, was also aware
that people want tips on
how to create the country
look indoors and out.

So in 1973, Mrs.
Howard published a com-
panion to her home plans
book, "Country Features
by Natalie." It's a collec-
tion of architectural ideas
and finishing tips picturing
actual rooms of the
Howards' home along with
detailed sketches and notes
t)n how a particular look
was obtained.

Although Mrs. Howard
admits the details and
treatments may not be
quite authentic to a par-
ticular time period, she
contends that her point
was to capture the essence

ot the simpler homestyles
of long ago.

"It's much easier to find
reproduction country
architectural accents now,"
Mrs. Howard said. "To
make a homemade door,
my book recommends buy-
ing 8-inch metal T-hinges
and spray-painting them
black, because at the time
that was the easiest way to
get that old look. Now, it's
no problem to find iron
door hinges."

Mrs. Howards' book
even includes finishing tips
for stains and paints that
can add to the rustic look
and at the same time pre-
serve and protect wood-
work. Sources of old-time
light fixtures and other
architectural details are
also given, along with a
bibliography ot helpful
publications on early
American lite.

There's an obvious ques-
tion tor Mrs. Howard: How
could a homemaker with
three children find time
and strength to tollow her
dream?

The talented and otten
philosophical Mrs. Howard
replied with a smile and a
look at her husband: "Hav-
ing a wonderful, support-
ing husband helped a lot.
The children were also
very young when I was get-
ting started. And I never
set any limits on
myself"

Mark Stith

This article is reprinted with
permission from the AtLinta
journal and Constitution.

AGNES scon ALUMNAE MAGAZINE 51

LIFESTYLES

Daughter's healing
leads to church
vocation for Weida

The woman who later
became president of
the First Church of
Christ, Scientist, caught
her first gUmpse of a Chris-
tian Scientist during fresh-
man year at Agnes Scott.

"I was looking out the
window and saw this girl
going across the court-
yard," jean K. Williams
Weida '40X recalls. "A fel-
low student was standing
next to me and she said,
'There she goes. ' I asked
what she meant, and she
said, 'She's a Christian Sci-
entist' and I asked, 'What's
that?'

"So it's amazing when 1
think about it that 1 ended
up here when I didn't
know anything about it."

Here is the massive 21-
story world headquarters of
the Christian Science
Church in Boston, where
Jean Weida ended her one-
year term as president in
June. Appointed by the
church's board of directors,
"the post is honorary and
conferred upon a church
member in recognition
of outstanding and dedi-
cated service," according
to Nathan Talbot, a
spokesman for the church.
Duties vary from year to
year, but include chairing
the church's annual meet-
ing and representing the
denomination in public
and interfaith functions.
Mrs. Weida represented
the church when Boston's
King's CJhapel celebrated
its 350th anniversary.

Most people eschew the
lengthy official title and
refer to the edifice over
which Jean Weida presided
as the Mother Church. It
anchors the 109-year-old
denomination founded by
Mary Baker Eddy, which
includes 3,000 con-
gregations in some 50
countries.

Jean Weida grew up in
Hickory, N.C., "a little
place between Charlotte
and Asheville," never
dreaming that her affili-
ation with the church

would r.ikc her all over the
world.

"1 grew up Presby-
terian," she says of her
inauspicious start. "My
grandfather was a Presby-
terian minister. My
other grandfather was a
doctim" When Mrs.
Weida's only child was i,
she became gravely ill.
Her daughter recovered,
despite the dire prognosis.
"I knew the healing had
come through prayer, e\'en
though she was operated
on," says Mrs. Weida.

"The surgeon told me he
knew there was a power
much greater than us
responsible for this."

For a year, Mrs. Weida
prayed and probed her
faith. One day someone
ga\'e her a copy of the
Christian Science text-
book, "Science and Health
with Key to the Scrip-
tures," by Marv Baker
Eddy. "1 started reading
and read all night long
never went to bed, and I
knew from the \ery begin-
ning that that was what I

LIFESTYLES

had been praying for."

Although she still
attended Presbyterian serv-
ices, eventually her curi-
osity propelled her to
investigate Christian Sci-
ence and she's been a
member ot the church ever
since.

At first a practitioner,
or one who "helps and
heals people through
prayer," she began in 1980
to lecture throughout
the U.S. In 1982 Mrs.
Weida moved to Boston to
become a manager of prac-
titioners and nursing at the
Mother Church. In 1984
she joined a panel ot three
who conducted practi-
tioner worksh(.)ps in some
30 countries, including
Brazil, New Zealand, Hol-
land and Spain, and most
of the U.S. In 1986 she
became president of the
Mother Church.

All of this without the
benefit of completing her
college education. "My sis-
ter and 1 went to summer
school in New York after
my freshman year and then
decided to stay," she says.
She has had a "kind of
spasmodic education,"
enrolling at New York's
Parson's School of Design
to study art, as well as New
York University. To her it
proves an important piiint.
"1 think it shows people
that you don't have to be a
college graduate to he of
service," she says. Her
Presbyterian background,
she says, is what steered
her to Agnes Scott.

A friendly woman with
an easy smile, Mrs. Weida
shows a visitor around the

church's impressive head-
quarters. In the early fall,
the surface of the long
reflecting pond, the visual
centerpiece of the complex
designed by architect l.M.
Pel, shimmers from the
season's gentle breezes. A
perfectly tended flower bed
provides a bounty of
autumnal colors. The sight
is breathtaking and one
that Jean Weida will not
see on a day-to-day basis
anymore.

After her husband's
death last year, she moved
from her Boston apartment
to Duxbury, Mass., a pic-
turesque town oft Cape
Cod Bay. She has finished
her three-year commit-
ment to the church and
will now concentrate on
being a full-time practi-
tioner, occasionally doing
special assignments tor the
church.

"We finished our work-
shops alter three years,"
she says. "We covered the
world. It was a wonderful
opportunity." During this
time Mrs. Weida came to
know Virginia Tumhlin
Guffin '39. "It was Virginia
who told me that Elizabeth
(Punkin') Espy Hooks '37
was the one 1 saw walking
across campus all those
years ago. They were the
only Christian Scientists
in the College at that
time. Much to my delight,
Punkin' and Virginia both
attended the Atlanta
workshop this past spring.
That's what you might call
coming full circle."

Stacey Noiles

Coulling brings
Lee's girls to life
in new novel

hen she was a girl
in China, Mary
Price Coulling
'49 heard the howls ot
street mobs and watched
the night sky redden from
the glare of a burning city.

It was those memories,
she said, that made her teel
a kinship with tour young
w(_)men ot an earlier terri-
ble time.

"1 came to really feel a
kind of empathy there and
part of that is that in my
own childhood I had to
flee," Mrs. Coulling,
author of a new biography
of the daughters of Con-
federate Gen. Robert E.
Lee, said. "It's something
that, whatever age you are,
makes a tremendous
impression."

Mrs. Coulling was horn
in China, the daughter ot a
medical missionary.

Her book, "The Lee
Girls," is the first about the
four daughters of Lee and
his wife, Mary Custis, the
great-granddaughter ot
Martha Washington.

Mrs. Coulling was 10
when her family fled
Tsingtao, China, in the
mid-1930s when the Chi-
nese destroyed and aban-
doned it in the face of the
advancing Japanese army.

The Lees fled a burning
Richmond as Union troops
closed in.

The Lee daughters en-
tered Mrs. Coulling's life
30 years ago, when she
worked at Washington and
Lee University and went

to the library in search ot
filler material for university
publications.

"Up in the attic, where
they had the rare books,
I discovered some un-
published, handwritten
letters of two of General
Lee's daughters, written
while they were at Virginia
Female Institute, now
Stuart Hall, in Staunton,"
Mrs. Coulling said.

"The letters were sitting
in a plain manila envelope
on top ot a file cabinet
with no identification
or anything. 1 was just
charmed by them," she
recalled.

Mrs. Coulling put the
Lee girls aside to marry a
young Washington and
Lee English professor. Dr.
Sidney M. B. Coulling,
and to rear their three
children. But in 1963,
Mrs. Coulling returned to
the letters.

"Everything stopped
about them at the death ot
Lee and of Mrs. Lee three
years later," said Mrs.
Coulling. "1 discovered
that two of them lived into
the 20th century, but
nobody knew anything
about them."

"It was not until 1981
that 1 thought 1 had
enough material and my
children were old enough
that 1 could finally sit
down and start working on
the hook," Mrs. Coulling
said.

Gail Nardi

This article is excerpted
from the Richmond Times-
Dispatch and is used with
permission.

AGNES scon ALUMNAE MAGAZINE 71

LIFESTYLES

After 50 years of time
to work, Saxon
decides to let it go

he helped to educate
Savannahians for a
half century and to
build the community's
modern public school sys-
tem during an age of racial
controversy and change
that threatened to pull it
down.

She's presided over the
school system with unas-
sailable dignity and au-
thority, even making the
hotheads sit still and lis-
ten.

Saxon Pope Bargeron
'32 sat in her living room
and reflected as her tenure
as school board president
came to a close. Nearby
hung a painting ot a
mother guiding a child
down a pathway.

"This to me is what edu-
cation is all about," said
Mrs. Bargeron, smiling.
Education begins, she
believes, with the basics:
love ot children and love ot
knowledge.

"1 always loved books,"
she said. "Nothing makes
me happier than to have a
book, reading. 1 f(.)und
school challenging. When
1 was little," she chuckled,
"1 said 1 was going to get all
the degrees there were."

She went on to get all
the "degrees" there are in
Chatham County's public
education system. She rose
from elementary schcxil
teacher to principal,
enough of an accomplish-
ment for most in a life-
time's work.

People thought she was

i SPRING 1988

LIFESTYLES

able enough to help other
principals run their schools
and she became an as-
sistant superintendent.
She continued to rise to
become the first woman
superintendent, and then
the first woman school
board president. Her sec-
ond and last term as presi-
dent expired last year.

Mrs. Bargeron remem-
bers an interview more
than 30 years ago when
she, then a teacher, was
being considered for a
principal's job by then-
Schools Superintendent
William Early.

"The superintendent
asked me, 'Can you
develop a hide like an
alligator? Because you will
need one,'" she laughed.

Through her work, she's
demonstrated her tough
"hide" and established a
place for herself in posi-
tions that were tradi-
tionally dominated by
men.

Much of her work was
conducted at the elemen-
tary school level, which
"in those days" was the
place where women had
the best chance of gaining
upward mobility, she said.

She calls the elementary
principal position the
"most delightful job in
American education." But
years ago, when asked to
leave her teaching post to
become a principal, she
hesitated.

"I had family and chil-
dren and 1 didn't want to
be that involved," she said.
"But in those days, you
tried to go where they
asked you to go. "

Her family husband
Eugene and two chil-
dren were "wonderfully
supportive" of her career,
she said.

"1 had the ability to
work and when 1 went
home at night 1 could take
it off like a coat and do my
housework and get the
children to study," she
said.

Probably the most trau-

Bargeron said, a feeling
developed that some stu-
dents can't learn well.
Course offerings con-
sequently were "watered
down," she said.

She has welcomed and
promoted reform in recent
years that has brought
tougher curriculum re-
quirements for local stu-
dents.

Five years after retiring

The superintendent asked
me, "Can you develop
a hide like an alligator?

Because you will need one."

matic times for the school
system during her career
were the transition to mas-
sive integration in the
classroom and the change
from an appointive school
board to an elective one,
she said. The changes in
the late 1960s and early
1970s were "hard for the
school system and the
community to adjust to,"
she said.

Voters participating in
the referendum for the
change to an elective
school board were "split
down the middle on the
issue," she said. "It takes
time for the community
to adjust and it takes a
number of school boards
for things to settle down. 1
think that is finally hap-
pening."

Shortly after the inte-
gration process began, Mrs

as an employee of the local
system, Mrs. Bargeron
resumed direct involve-
ment in public school mat-
ters by successfully running
for school board president.

While Mrs. Bargeron
was president in 1984,
Chatham County's board
was named one of 17 "Dis-
tinguished School Boards"
in the nation. The U.S.
Department of Education
and then-Education Sec-
retary Terrel H. Bell
honored the board for
its "outstanding efforts
to achieve excellence in
education."

But there have been
troubled times, too.

Being controversial at
times "goes with the turf
when you are dealing with
children in the community
and parents and board
members with differing

opinions," Mrs. Bargeron
said.

"Everytime you make a
decision," she said, "you
please somebody and dis-
please somebody else."

Last year Mrs. Bargeron
and the other school board
members approved a long-
range plan to desegregate
the system while building
new schools, closing old
schools and renovating
other facilities. The plan
came a step closer to im-
plementation last week.
After negotiating a year,
the school board, the
NAACP and the U.S. Jus-
tice Department reached
an agreement on the plan
and are seeking its ap-
proval in federal court.

Mrs. Bargeron said she's
glad voters will have a
chance to decide in a refer-
endum whether to finance
the multi-million dollar
project with a bond issue.
With the community's sup-
port, she said, "this holi-
day season could signal the
beginning of a true educa-
tional renaissance for Sa-
vannah and Chatham
County. "

Mrs. Bargeron thought
long and hard before de-
ciding not to seek re-
election.

"There's a time to work
and a time to let it go," she
said. "I'll miss it, but 1
think I made the right
decision."

Deborah Anderson

This article is excerpted
with permission from the
Savannah Morning News.

AGNES scon ALUMNAE MAGAZINE 91

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110 SPRING 1988

LURING

SCHOLARS

INTO

SCIENCE

There is a double whammy occur-
ring on American college campuses,
which could have dire consequences
for the high-tech United States. Sta-
tistics show that fewer students are
choosing science and engineering
careers. What's more, the entire col-
lege-age population is shrinking.

According to experts like Betty
Vetter, executive director of the
Commission on Professionals in Sci-
ence and Technology, this could
create a shortage of qualified scien-
tists and result in the loss of Amer-
ica's competitive edge in technology.

"It is highly unlikely that we will
ever have a complete shortage of sci-
entists because we will do what
America always does," Ms. Vetter
says. "If there is no one qualified for
the job, we will hire the next best
qualified.

"However, we won't have the best
we can get," she adds thoughtfully.

Many authorities believe women
and minorities currently under-
represented in the sciences will be
needed to fill in the ranks. Ellen
Wood Hall '67, dean of the College,

BY AMY STONE

6 Q 6 Q ' 6 6 Q

AGNES scon ALUMNAE MAGAZINE 111

says, "There is so much potential in
that pool. They will be the solution
to a crisis."

Even though many hope that
these groups will flood scientific
fields in the future, now women and
minorities make up a very small per-
centage of the entire scientific com-
munity. For example, women
received only 14 percent of the doc-
torates awarded in mathematics and
computer science in 1985, according
to a report published by the Com-
mission on Professionals in Science.
L. Nan Snow, manager of the
National Physical Science Con-
sortium at Lawrence Livermore Lab-
oratories, bluntly states, "There is a
chronic dearth of women and minor-
ities in the physical sciences."

And figures from the National
Research Council show that after 15
years of steady growth, the enroll-

What do all these

statistics mean?. . .

You probably will never

have a problem finding

a physician or an

investment banker, but

you'll need to lower your

expectations of the world

of high technology.

ment of women in science and engi-
neering programs has started to level
off and in some cases decline.

In engineering, for example,
freshman enrollment of women grew
from 3 percent in 1972 to 17 percent
in 1983. That share fell in 1984 to
16.5 percent, and remained at that
level through 1985. Studies in pro-
gress show a further decline in 1986,
Ms. Vetter says. Elizabeth S. Ivey,
chair of the physics department at
Smith College in Massachusetts,
agreed with these figures, also quot-
ing 1983 as the peak year for female

engineering majors.

And to top it off, Ms. Vetter esti-
mates that colleges are expected to
lose a quarter of their enrollments by
1992. So, not only is the slice of sci-
entific pie growing smaller, the
entire pie is shrinking.

Dr. E. Jo Baker, the associate vice
president for academic affairs at the
Georgia Institute of Technology,
gives her summation of a future with
fewer scientists but more scientific
demand, "It's frightening."

Why don't students flock to the
worlds of lasers and organic com-
pounds? Dr. Baker seems to think
the problem is money. "Business and
computers are gobbling up students
because there's fast money there,"
she says. "Also, it's hard to tell a
graduate student that she won't
make as much money with her
Ph.D. as an engineer with a bach-
elor's degree."

Medicine may also be taking
qualified applicants away from the
hard sciences, as demographics from
the 1987 Medical College Admis-
sion Test (MCAT) show. The num-
bers of white women and male and
female minorities taking the test
rose significantly above 1986 levels.

In some fields, including compu-
ter science, medicine, business
administration and law, the propor-
tion of women enrolled and gradu-
ating at every level continues to
increase," says Ms. Vetter, who is
compiling this year's edition of Pro-
fessional Women and Minonties A
Manpower Data Resciurce Service.

What do all of these statistics
mean? When viewed together they
mean that you probably will never
have a problem finding a physician
or an investment banker, but you'll
need tti lower your expectations of
the world of high-technology. For
instance; expect a slowed space pro-
gram, energy demands exceeding
the available technology and frantic
pharmaceutical ciimpanies trying
to keep up production with fewer
chemists.

Agnes Scott faculty have specified
the following seven points that
they hope will make the College
the center for women's science edu-
cation in the South. The funding
for this endeavor will come from
the Centennial Campaign, where
$3.1 million has been allocated for
women's science education.

H Acquisition of improved
modem instrumentation and
equipment.

The laboratories at Agnes Scott
are already first-rate, thanks to
a remodeling of Campbell Hall
completed in 1982. But College
officials know that science quickly
changes, and one of the best ways
to prepare young scientists for the
real world is to provide them with
up-to-date scientific equipment.

Even simple things, like pipettes
instruments used to draw up liq-
uids change. Not too long ago,
a rubber bulb at the end of a grad-
uated glass tube pulled up the
desired amount of liquid. Now
with the use of small machines,
one can draw precise amounts into
the glass tube using suction. These
machines cost around $200 each,
but are more precise and sterile
than rubber bulbs.

B Establishment of full schol-
arships for well-prepared science
students with high potential.

According to Chemistry's Dr.
Alice Cunningham, this will serve
a two-fold purpose. One, it will
encourage young women to con-
sider studying science in college,
and two, it will bring in a pool of

Marsha Lakes Matyas, project
director at the American Associa-
tion for the Advancement of Sci-
ence, says colleges and universities
must inter\ene to draw more women
into scientific careers.

"For long-term effects, we will
ha\e t(.i work from elementar\-

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112 SPRING 1988

talented, bright students to Agnes
Scott.

Dr. Betty Edwards Gray, a schol-
arship student who graduated in
1935, majored in history and
French at Agnes Scott, and went
on to receive her Ph.D. in bio-
logical sciences from Emory.

An unmanned satellite carried
some of her plants to space in 1965.
She showed that growth speeds up
in a zero-gravity environment,
and consequently, stress causes a
response in an organism.

I Addition of support person-
nel to relieve faculty of non-teach-
ing/research duties.

Administrators are adamant
about the meaning of support per-
sonnel. Secretaries, clerks, and
laboratory directors are support
personnel. Teaching assistants are
not. "Part of the intellectual proc-
ess of a small environment comes
from having professors monitor all
of a student's work," President
Ruth Schmidt has said. "You will
not get this in a large school. " She
also noted that sometimes students
will go to a large school with a
well-recognized name and "may
never see the professors that made
such a name for the school."

H Increased effort toward public
relations and recruitment of strong
science students.

Getting the message across that
Agnes Scott has a good science
program, and encouraging young
women to look closely at it is a pri-
mary goal. Competition among
schools is stiff, and aggressive re-
cruitment and marketing may be

the key to attracting top scholars.

President Schmidt has expressed
interest in seeing the student body
grow by 100 on-campus students.
She sees recruiting future scientists
as a way to achieve this goal.

I Expanded programs in under-
graduate research in sciences and
collaboration with nearby aca-
demic institutions.

In a study, the U.S. Office of
Technology Assessment found that
students make decisions about sci-
ence careers even after they enter
college. An expanded under-
graduate research program, and
enhanced opportunities with
neighboring institutions might
encourage young women to pursue
scientific careers after they enter
Agnes Scott.

Agnes Scott already has a dual-
degree program with Georgia
Tech, in which a student earns an
undesignated liberal arts degree
from Agnes Scott and a bachelor
of science degree from Georgia
Tech. The dual-degree program
takes five years to complete, with
the first three years taken at Agnes
Scott, and the last two at Georgia
Tech.

The College is also working on a
venture with Georgia State Uni-
versity. Agnes Scott is one of the
few small institutions in the nation
with an observatory and a 30-inch
telescope. Soon, the large tele-
scope will be housed in Georgia
State's observatory at Hard Labor
Creek State Park, away from the
bright light of the city. The smaller
telescopes will stay on campus.

and students can use both
observatories.

B Enhancement of existing
courses and development of new
quantitative skills and analytical
thinking.

The only constant about science
is change. As discoveries and new
ideas emerge, Agnes Scott will
incorporate them into the curricu-
lum. Dean Ellen Hall has noted,
"As science changes, and more dis-
coveries are made among different
fields, we will need to stay abreast.
We will have to educate our stu-
dents to deal with fields that
haven't been invented yet."

H Development of non-tech-
nical courses directed toward
examination of social issues in
modem science and technology.

Dr. Cunningham has proposed
new classes examining the social
issues of science. "Frontiers of
Modern Science and Technology"
and "The Human Dimension of
Science and Technology" explore
such topics as the history of sci-
ence, and personal and social
perspectives of the benefits and
dilemmas related to scientific and
technological advances.

Carolyn Crawford Thorsen, '55
who received a master's degree in
engineering from Georgia Tech,
agrees that it is time to reevaluate
social issues in science. Executive
director of the Southeastern Con-
sortium of Minorities in Engineer-
ing, she notes that if "technology is
going to govern our lives, we must
be responsible and knowledgeable,
and we must take charge." AS

school to high school to encourage
women to enter scientific areas," she
notes in an article published in the
Chronicle ot Higher Education.

Some schools have a head start.
Indiana's Purdue University and the
University of Michigan have pro-
grams that have helped increase

their female enrollments in science
and engineering by exposing high
school students to role models in
science. At Purdue, the female
engineering enrollment is 21 per-
cent, compared to about 16 percent
nationally.

At Smith College, Elizabeth Ivey

has held a workshop every summer
since 1983 tor high school guidance
counselors and science and math
teachers. The purpose is to enable
them to help their female students
pursue careers in engineering and
science. "We want to teach people
to be pro-active, not reactive when

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AGNFR scon Al UMN AF MAGAZINE 1 31

dealing with girls in their schools
to really talk them into staying with
science and math," she says.

Georgia Tech sponsors a program
called Futurescape, where junior
high and middle school girls come
to campus to interact with women,
both students and professionals. Its
objective is to encourage girls to
take more math and science classes
so they will he prepared if they
choose a scientific career. "We are
trying everything we know to draw
women to Georgia Tech," Dr. Baker
said.

9

9

Agnes Scott is also implementing
programs to reach more women and
minorities. Dr. Alice Cunningham,
the William Rand Kenan Jr. Pro-
fessor of Chemistry and chair of the
department, reports that students
are not well prepared for under-
graduate level science courses. She
notes that high school girls in the
South repeatedly test lower than
boys in math/science aptitude and
ability measurements in national
studies. Nationally women score
lowest on every item of science test-

9

9

ing except in the category of prob-
lem-solving approaches and
decision-making. Dr. Cunningham
perceives a real need for better sci-
ence education for women at the
middle and secondary school level.

She proposes that Agnes Scott
develop an outreach program for
middle and secondary school teach-
ers. The program would include on-
campus workshops in strategies for
overcoming matlVquantitati\e skills
anxiety in young women, a resource
center for developing new curricular

9

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114 <;PDINa lOflS

and computer materials for teaching,
and summer research opportunities
for teachers. "They must learn what
is happening in the sciences before
they can transfer new methods and
knowledge to the classroom," she
says.

Like Smith, Agnes Scott's se-
cret weapon is that it is a women's
college.

Organizations such as the Wom-
en's College Coalition and academic
researchers across the country docu-
ment that women's colleges have a
higher rate of students who go on to
receive doctorates in both the phys-
ical and life sciences than women
from coed colleges and universities.

"The most striking difference
between sexes occurs because of
women's colleges, the most highly
productive institutions of women
doctoral scientists," says Elizabeth
Tidball, a professor of physiology at
George Washington University
Medical School, in the the Journal
of Higher Education.

A 1982 report by the Association
of American Colleges found that
women at coed schools are less likely
to be called on in class than men,
more likely to be interrupted while
speaking, may be subjected to sexist
humor from male professors and stu-
dents, and are not encouraged in
fields like math or science.

Mary Patterson, president of Bryn
Mawr College, told to Ms. Maga-
zine, "The students' models are the
trustees, the administrators and
the faculty. It is not a particularly
healthy model if you never had a
female scientist or department
chair."

Role models seem to work. An
article in Newsweek stated that 81
percent of 5,000 women's college
graduates surveyed went on to gradu-
ate school far more than women
from coed institutions.

Agnes Scott has always been suc-
cessful in educating women in the
sciences; about 20 percent of its stu-
dents over a 10 year period have

majored in scientific disciplines,
about even with or ahead of national
trends.

However Carolyn Crawford Thor-
sen '55 believes that the world in
which we live has changed enough
that the liberal arts education should
change as well. "It used to be that to
be an educated person in society you
needed to know such things as
Latin, Greek and philosophy," says
the executive director of the South-
eastern Consortium of Minorities in
Engineering. "Today you need to
know a bit more about technology. "

Since the College has no graduate
programs, professors can only pre-
pare students for the rigors of gradu-
ate study. Georgia Tech's Dr. Baker

It used to be that to

be an educated person

you needed to know

such things

as Latin, Greek and

Philosophy. Today you

need to know a bit
more about technology.

says, "The students we receive from
Agnes Scott are academically very
well-prepared. However, sometimes
it is a shock tor them, coming from
an environment that offers more per-
sonal attention to one that empha-
sizes independence."

Ms. Vetter said there may be two
reasons why women's colleges turn
out more scientists than the national
averages. "One, many women's col-
leges are more selective, so they
have a brighter student population.
Also, it's societal. When you put
men and women together, men
automatically take the lead and
women usually let them. At a
women's college, women get the
opportunity to take the lead."

So what happens after a woman
or minority majors in science.

receives that hard-won Ph.D. and
enters the work force.' Other obsta-
cles loom. According to the Chroni-
cle of Higher Education, women
with doctorates have a harder time
finding jobs than similarly qualified
men, and they have a harder time
gaining tenure and earn less than
their male colleagues.

Ms. Snow, at Lawrence Livermore
Laboratories says, "Even though
women make up 14 percent of
the membership of the American
Chemical Society, only 4. 1 percent
of the chemistry tenured faculty in
Ph.D. granting institutions are
women."

So it appears that the pool of tal-
ent that may save America from a
shortage of scientists must first be
lured into science, despite its pres-
ent obstacles.

Many universities are aggressively
recruiting women and minorities,
and even government institutions
like Lawrence Livermore Laborato-
ries under the Department of Energy
are forming commissions to examine
what changes must be made to get
and keep these groups in science.
Congress has been sufficiently
alarmed to create a task force exam-
ining the status of women and
minorities in the federal government
as well as federally assisted research
programs that deal with science and
technology. The task force will
make its report to Congress in 1989.

Dr. Baker thinks the private sec-
tor must offer incentives. "Com-
panies must be willing to fund basic
research and pay scientists," she
says. "Since the payoffs may be
years, they need to be concerned
about the long run.

"Many of us are working hard to
prevent a shortage of scientists,"
she adds. "It's hard to imagine sci-
ence not being there to extend our
knowledge."

Amy Stone is a science and medical
writer at Emory University.

9

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PAnDAD
PAKMS

BY DAVID ELLISON

iB^.;

DESPITE SHUTTLE
PROGRAM STRUGGLES,
MARGARET BEAIN
FINDS CHALLENGES
AND EXCITEMENT '
AT NASA

Crewmembers are in their respec-
tive positions inside the space shut-
tle on the launching pad at Florida's
Kennedy Space Center. In the shut-
tle's cargo bay lies millions ot dollars
worth of satellites and scientific
experiments payloads. The count-
down is in its final minutes.

In a room at Johnson Space Cen-
ter in Houston, Texas, sit payload
system engineers.

Since 1984 Margaret Carpenter
Beain '82 has been a part of this
team in payload operations. She

realizes that payload operations is
victu'ally unknown to the average
citizen, but she is not the type of
'. person who demands attention.- In a
subtle, professional way, Margaret
Beain dedicates her talents and
knowledge to help the shuttle crew
and the customers, whose cargo sits
in the shuttle, pjoneer in space.

Her intelligence and initiative
have thrust her into this arena of
sophisticated support staff. Col-
leagues in payload operations attest
to her qualifications.

Jim Clements, a payload opera-
tions engineer, says it was Ms.
Beain's "high degree of initiative,
independence and competence"
that convinced him to talk her into
coming to work with him. "She is
highly motivated and extremely
sharp. She fits very well in this
environment."

The environment radiates smarts.
Physicists, engineers, and astro-
nauts stroll along sidewalks that
wind through the stiff St. Augustine
grass. About 100 white, rectangular
buildings populate the 1,620'acre
site, amid ponds dotting the land-
scape. Ms. Beain aptly compares the
space center to a college campus.

College campuses were still tresh
in her mind when she started work-
ing at Johnson Space Center just
two months after graduating from
Agnes Scott with a degree in math
and physics. From 1982 to 1984, the
now 27-year-old prepared computer
software that calculated the shuttle's
orbit. Contracted by the govern-
ment, she first worked for McDon-
nell Douglas Technical Services Co.
Since 1984 she has worked for Rock-
well International, the contract-
holder for payloads.

She works out of a small office at
the center. "I actually take my
instruction from a NASA boss.
Rockwell's office checks the paper-
work mostly," she explains.

She admits pride in being part of
the space program. At the same
time, she concedes that working at
NASA definitely wasn't her lifelong
desire. "1 was just pretty much look-
ing tor a job," she says. While she
considered her work "just another
job" during her first year, life at the
space center began to overwhelm
her. "1 guess after a while you start
seeing things. And it's like, 'Wow,
this is really neat. This is the space
program. I am working with astro-
nauts.'"

When Ms. Beain came to payload
operations, the space shuttle pro-
gram was at its peak. There were
five flights in 1984 and nine in 1985.
But before Ms. Beain could take
part, she had to return to the class-
room. Trained to operate payloads
and experiments from her position
in payload operations, she also took
a prelimin.iry astronaut training
course. It was pretty exciting, she
says. "We go tlirough a kind of base-

line astronaut training. We get to sit
in the simulators and play astronaut
for a couple of hours at a time."

After training, a close-knit group
of about 10 payload system engineers
become involved with cargo from
the moment a corporation signs its
contract with NASA. Two to three
years before the flight, the engineer
works out the mechanical and elec-
trical problems to operate a par-
ticular piece.

The payload group, mission con-
trol workers and astronauts conduct
simulated flights during the final
weeks leading up to the launch.
Training specialists develop a series
of problems and malfunctions that
might happen during flight. "It's just
one thing after another," Ms. Beain
says. "Just when you think you got
something figured out, they will
throw something else at you. It's
eight hours of the worst possible
things that could happen."

The people who work with the
flights practice operating experi-
ments as well as deploying and
retrieving payloads. Margaret Beain
says the simulations are just as
intense as the flight itself, but she
also views them as tension relievers.
"I think you have to look at them as
a game. It's us against the training
people."

But they are beneficial. Her
response time quickened. "During a
flight, you will see [a familiar pro-
cedure], something will click and
you will say, 'Oh yeah, I remember
that.'"

Normally payload system engi-
neers are assigned to a flight within
a year after coming into the pro-
gram. However her call came sooner
because of the number of flights in
1984 and 1985. Vividly recalling her
apprehension after learning she had
been assigned to work a payload
flight, Ms. Beam says, "I was scared
to death. I think my biggest fear was
that I would say something stupid,
make a wrong decision [and] really
screw up somebody. " .As flight tmie

approached, she recened support
from her colleagues that helped
her gain confidence. "It wasn't too
bad different. I was kind of ex-
cited," she says now.

The two flights Beam worked on
in 1985 contamed Spacelabs with
scientific experiments. No major
problems there. The biggest one was
on Spacelab 3. The monkev and rat
cages were poorlv designed and the

I18SPRINR lOflR

food and animal droppings didn't go
into the filters, but instead traveled
from the payload bay to the pas-
senger compartment.

"As long as that stuff stayed out
[in the payload bay], those guys
didn't care. As soon as it started
coming up to the main part of the
orbiter, the pilot said, 'This has got
to stop. You have got to do some-
thing about this,'" she recounts

with a laugh. Unfortunately, there
was nothing they could do.

Ms. Beain's duties include mak-
ing sure astronauts stick to payload
deployment schedules. If there are
any problems, she works with mis-
sion control to correct them. All
decisions about payload operations
are made and transmitted to the
spacelab or shuttle crew from pay-
load operations at mission control.

Ms. Beain sends computer com-
mands to the shuttle informing the
crew of certain adjustments to the
payload cargo after orbit. She also
conducts experiments from the
ground.

While she works diligently with
the space shuttle crew, she simul-
taneouly informs the cargo owners
of every detail about their precious
equipment. In some cases owners

AGNES scon ALUMNAE MAGAZINE 191

tell them what needs to he done to
successfully deploy a payload. "Our
biggest responsihility is to see that
[the customer] gets what he needs.
And if something happens where he
can't, then we work around that to
find a way where he can get as much
as possible."

In some cases customers give
payload operations full control over
the cargo. Other times payload has a
small role. Margaret Beam prefers to
have complete control over cargo. It

makes the job more interesting and
allows her to make more decisions
and monitor more situations, she
says. She strives tor perfection on
each mission, but admits perfection
sometimes makes for a boring flight.

The most rewarding part of her
job is working with scientific experi-
ments that develop favorable results
for customers. Usually she receives
letters from companies telling her of
the experiment results. "That is sat-
isfying because you see a result. We
helped these guys get this data," she
says.

The mt)st horrifying experience
on her job came Jan. 28, 1986,
when the Space Shuttle Challenger
exploded and killed the seven crew
members aboard. Although she
wasn't working the Challenger
flight, Ms. Beain vividly recalls the
mood thai pre, uled at the space

center after the disaster. "That was
strange," she says solemnly. "We sat
around here for about three or four
days [doing nothing] because no one
really knew what this was going to
mean. Are they going to lay off
everybody? Is this going to be the
end of the space shuttle program?"
she remembers.

The aftermath of the shuttle
explosion lingered for several
months. However it gave officials
time to realize there were just too
many flights in a year. "They would
]ust stretch to the breaking point. It
was pretty bad. You can run like
that for a couple of months, but
after a while something has got to
give," says Ms. Beain.

With the exception of the Chal-
lenger, Ms. Beain maintains that
space shuttle flights are performed
without any major problems.
"Before Challenger, I think the illu-
sion that people had that flying
the shuttle was just like driving a
truck was somewhat true. Things
went pretty smoothly."

The shuttles have not flown in
the aftermath of the Challenger, but
Ms. Beain still works with payload
customers for a flight to he launched
in 1989. She is also upgrading the
mission control computer software
for payload operations so that she
and colleagues will have more data
available for future flights. She re-
mains a few years away from com-
pleting the project, but a "baseline
kind of system," ready for the shut-
tle flight in June will serve until
then.

A native of Baltimore, Margaret
Beain moved to the Houston-area
with her husband, Ander Beain, 27.
The couple met while she was at
Agnes Scott and he was at Georgia
Tech. Two weeks after graduation
they married. About a month later,
they left Georgia in search of jobs in
Texas. Ander Beain, who was raised
in Florida, now works as an engineer
for Monsanto Chemical Co.

After work the Beains come home

to their quiet subdivision m the
nearby town of Friendsw^ood, Texas,
to relax and enjoy dinner. Then it's
of into their two-car garage for their
favorite hobby, woodworking. They
spend countless hours working with
a table saw, a planer, a lathe and se\'-
eral pieces of lumber. Together they
make bookshelves, stereo stands and
desks for themselves and for their
small business that caters mostly to
friends.

"It's really a way to vent some

"The biggest thing
about this job is
when you travel
and talk to friends.
They say, 'Wow, you
work for mission
control. Wow, you
work for NASA.'"

energy," Margaret Beam explains
as she works on a wooden letter
opener. "He does the design part.
I do a lot of the finishing work
because he doesn't like to do the
sanding and the finishing."

Without hesitation, Ander Beain
quips, "10-4!" Woodwork is inex-
pensive and it saves money on their
furniture purchases, he says. "I
think our budgetary nature started
taking o\er. We looked in stores and
said, 'Look how much that's going to
cost,'" he says. He points to an
entertainment center in the li\'ing
room and a wooden deck on the
patio as examples of their work.
Besides saving money, woodworking
is good therapy. "When vou come
home from a hard dav, vou can turn
a perfect piece of wood into dust,"
he savs.

"^bu can make noise and throw

ion CDDIMI^ IQBH

things around," his wife adds. There
are times when they prefer a little
peace and quiet. Ms. Beam plays
classical music on her piano and
enjoys doing lawn work and check-
ing up on her vegetable garden.

When the couple sits down for a
one-on-one conversation, one of
their favorite topics is life at the
space center. Ander Beam often
admits that he is fascinated with his
wife's job. "I grew up in Florida far
away from where they did a lot of
space work. I always [thought it was]
kind of neat."

He was surprised to hear of his
wife entertaining the notion of
becoming an astronaut. "You've got

to be kidding me. You've been in
that mockup. You would spend
seven days in that little, tiny cabin
on that ship?" he asked.

"1 think it would be kind of neat,"
Margaret Beain replies, but allows
that she has a physical limitation of
poor eyesight and doesn't have the
dedication to attend school 5 more
years to obtain a Ph.D.

Ms. Beain says she actually would
like to stay in payload operations tor
the next few years. She knows there
are opportunities at Johnson Space
Center, but realizes that jobs outside
are limited for a person with payload
experience. She could consider
working in the private industry.

building satellites or doing computer
programming, she says, but the
thought of whether she would be
satisfied working outside lurks in the
back of her mind.

"That's something I never think
about," she says of leaving the cen-
ter. "It would be hard to give this up.
The biggest thing about this job is
when you travel and talk to friends.
They say, 'Wow, you work for mis-
sion control. Wow, you work for
NASA.'"

David EUiSiin IS a writer for The
Houston Post.

AGNES scon ALUMNAE MAGAZINE 211

-^.,-. ^^-.^^^.^r'%^

f-Sl'./f-''"-^-*;

(Discupuiae (L ) i "'

1. Students, the

fruit of an ,^ imr"^/T

institution A "^ ^fi^ . j^ S\/t

TkKtoru (L.)

l.facuCuj, ortfu
I branches of
teaching that
v(tend to tack
-student

fPnusides (L.)

1. trustees, or the
unseen foundation
of an institution

In the early days, the Rev.
Frank H. Gaines, president
of the Decatur Female Sem-
inary, would summon the
five original trustees for a
meeting at his manse on
short notice. Whenever an issue
arose that demanded their quick
attention, the hoard of trustees,
which held no regular meetings,
assembled.

The practice continued until
1900, when biannual meetings were
established. The trustees governing
what would become Agnes Scott
College met if a new building was to
be built, books, equipment or prop-
erty were to be purchased, or a prin-
cipal or teacher was to be hired.

In 1889, the trustees met to dis-
cuss the employment of Miss
Nanette Hopkins of Staunton, Va.,
as principal, according to "Lest
We Forget," Dr. Walter Edward
McNair's history of the College. For
several years after they hired her, the
trustees continually discussed hiring
a man to replace her. But eventually
the matter was dropped and the
trustees annually reelected Miss
Hopkins to her post.

Around the turn of the century,
Agnes Scott struggled financially,
though it continued to expand its
curriculum and gradually become a
liberal arts college for women. A
major turning point for the College
came during 1908-9. With no
endowment and only land, build-
ings and equipment as assets, Agnes
Scott's future appeared bleak. Time
and again, the College's founder.
Col. George Washington Scott had
rescued the institution, but this
time it appeared he could no longer
underwrite the deficits. As a result
enrollment was unstable. "The col-
lapse of the enterprise seemed immi-
nent," President Gaines later wrote.
"Something had to be done."
In desperation, the trustees
turned to the General Education
board of New York, an organization
founded by John D. Rockefeller to
aid educational institutions. For the
next 30 years the organization
provided numerous grants to the
College.

"There would have been no
Agnes Scott without Col. Scott, Dr.
Gaines, and Miss Hopkins," wrote
Dr. McNair. "It is also not too much
to say that without the active sup-
port and interest of the General
Education Board, Agnes Scott
would never have become a recog-
nized and distinguished college."

Not only did the General Educa-
tion Board provide much-needed
financial support, but it also chal-
lenged the College's trustees to raise
matching funds. Agnes Scott's first
financial campaign was born.

Today, nearly 100 years after the
College was founded and 80 years

Working unseen,
College Tmstees draw
support and resources

BySherylA.Roehl

after its first fundraising effort
began, the Centennial Campaign is
underway. It's the College's first
major fundraising drive in 25 years,
aimed at raising $35 million by Sep-
tember 1989, Agnes Scott's 100th
anniversary. Says Dr. Rickard Scott,
the College's vice president for
development and public affairs,
"The importance of the board of
trustrees cannot be overestimated in
a campaign of this size. Their dedi-
cation and support, together with
the alumnae, will make the
Centennial Campaign a success."

Agnes Scott has always been
blessed with superior leadership in
its board of trustees, presidents, fac-

ulty, alumnae and students. The
ambitious goals of the Centennial
Campaign clearly show that the
vision of the original trustees has
been carried on by the College's cur-
rent leaders. Yet some aspects of the
board have changed over the years.

They meet more often three
times a year, in spring, fall, and
winter, compared to the first board's
hurriedly arranged, impromptu
meetings in the College's early
years. There are more standing com-
mittees eight now, compared to
the six in 1897. Their numbers are
greater 32 versus just five trustees
before the turn of the century. The
makeup of the College's board of
trustees has changed as well.

"The board has always had well-
known business leaders and lawyers
from the city of Atlanta, prominent
heads of hanks and Coca-Cola,
noted Presbyterian ministers," says
Mary Alverta "Bertie" Bond '53,
executive secretary to the board.

"Now there are many more
women on the board than when I
came in the early '60s. President
Perry [1973-82] was instrumental in
bringing more women on the board.
All of the women, except one, are
alumnae of the College and many of
them have established professional
careers and that is certainly dif-
ferent than it has been in the past."

Unlike a public college or univer-
sity's governing body, the College's
board is self-perpetuating. The
board's nominating committee
provides it with nominees for vacant
seats. In the past, trustees served for
life or until retirement. Recently,
the trustees voted to rotate members
off the board after serving two four-
year terms. "We wanted to have
more new faces," explains the
board's chairperson, L.L.
Gellerstedt Jr.

"We also wanted to increase the
number of women on the board. We
have so many graduates; there are so
many capable women out there who
ought to be given a chance to serve.
Twenty years ago, the board was 80
percent men. Now the board has
just slightly more women. I also

AGNES scon ALUMNAE MAGAZINE 231

think that, in Hght of that decision,
the more people exposed to mem-
bership on the board, the better off
Agnes Scott will be over the years."

Two years ago, the trustees
appointed the first female, non-
alumna to serve, the Rev. Joanna
Adams, pastor of North Decatur
Presbyterian Church. "1 think my
appointment shows that Larry and
the other board members are very
committed to the empowerment of
women so they can claim their right-
ful place in our society," says the

Rev. Adams [see sidebar].

The board's chairperson sees more
changes ahead for the College's gov-
erning body. "1 think that the next
chair of the board ought to be an
Agnes Scott graduate," says Mr.
Gellerstedt. Susan Phillips '67, for-
mer chair of the U.S. Commmodity
Future Trading Commission in
Washington, is only the second
woman to serve as the body's vice
chairperson.

When trustees were asked why
they agreed to serve on the board,
they voiced a strong dedication to
Agnes Scott, based on their experi-
ence as a student or knowing the
rich college experience of spouses,
daughters or close relatives who are
alumnae.

"Agnes Scott meant so much to
me as a student" says Trustee Ann
Register Jones '46, who echoed the
sentiments of many fellow alumnae
trustees, "I want to do anything I
can do to help continue the Col-
lege's tradition of excellence the
extremely high caliber of students
and faculty.

"1 feel strongly alxuit what the
College is contributing," continues
Mrs. Jones, who serves on the
board's student affairs and buildings
and grounds committees. "1 con-
tinue to belnAv m the purpose of

Asked her thoughts about
her role as the first
female non-alumna to
serve on the Agnes Scott
Board of Trustees, the Rev. Joanna
Adams grins and says, "It's a funny
status, but I feel fine about it.

"As I listen to the women on the
board and hear their college mem-
ories, I'm sure that it's very much a
part of their commitment to the
College. But it's a personal history
that 1 simply don't share. Although
I have a great deal of affection and
admiration for Agnes Scott, it's
from a different perspective, which
r hope has some validity and will
be helpful now and in the future."

Adams, appointed in 1986, is
one of a long line of Presbyterian
ministers to serve on the board.

"There's been a tradition of Pres-
byterian ministers. serving on the
Board of Trustees because of Agnes
Scott's shared history with the
Presbyterian Church," says the
Rev. Adams. "But all the Presby-'
terian ministers [on the board]
have been men. The significance of
my appointment was that I was a
woman who was also a Presbyterian
minister."

Growing up in Meridian, Miss.,

she dreamed of one day becoming a
minister. "But in those days, girls
didn't grow up to be ministers any
more than they grew up to be astro-
nauts," she says. "Back then, if you
were a woman, you could be two
things: nurses or teachers. So I
decided to be a teacher."

Although many of Meridian's
"finest, smartest girls" wanted to go
to Agnes Scott, the Rev. Adams
chose to attend Emory University,
because all the men in her family
had gone-there. She graduated in
1966 with a bachelor of arts degree
and married a classmate, Alfred
B. Adams III, now an Atlanta
attorney.

During the '60s, the Rev. Adams
taught at Grady High School. But '
she later gave up teaching for a full-
time mothering and homemaking,
rearing two children, Elizabeth,
now 19, and Sam, 17.

Her life's dream resurfaced dur-
ing the '70s and she returned ta
school, this time attending Colum-
bia Seminary. At Columbia, the
reverend distinguished herself by -
winning the Florrie Wilkes Sanders
Theology Prize and the Alumni/ae
Fellowship Award.

After completing her master's

Agnes Scott and that it's doing a
superior job of educating young
women in the liberal arts. And I
want to be a part of that. "

A Georgia Tech alumnus, L.L.
Gellerstedt Jr. followed a long tradi-
tion when he married an Agnes
Scott graduate more than four
decades ago. "I used to take the trol
ley car out to Agnes Scott to see
[Mary]," he recalls. Their daughter
Gayle Gellerstedt Daniel '71, was

named Cutstandmg Young PersiMi o\
Atlanta in 198S and was moderator

at last year's "Prism of Power" sym-
posium at the College. "In many
ways, I said I would be chairperson
of the board because I'm married to
an Agnes Scott graduate," notes Mr.
Gellerstedt, who has ser\'ed in that
capacity since 1979.

The board's Articles of Incorpora-
tion invest the group as "the
exclusive and ultimate source of
authority in all matters pertaining to
the College, its government and
conduct." A private college's trust-
ees have greater independence,
more authority o\'er the college's
operation, and more responsibility.

"We're here to support the presi-
dent," says Ann Jones, "and to work
in partnership with the administra-
tion to accomplish the College's
goals. In addition to being partners,
the board sots the official policy of

194 <;pr3iMC lopfi

degree in 1979, she became a com-
munity minister and later associate
pastor at Atlanta's Central Pres-
hyterian Church. Shortly after, she
became vitally concerned with the
plight of Atlanta's growing home-
less population, co-founding and
then serving as chairperson of
the Atlanta Area Task Force on
{^omelessness. ^

Recently she helped found
Beyond Shelter Inc., which plans
to open a day shelter for homeless
women and children in DeKalb
County early this year.

"Through my work with the
homeless, I've come to realize
the infinite importance of where
we put our weight in this world,
whether our lives are bent on the
things that have to do with mercy,
justice, love and compassion," she
says, "or. whether we believe we
were put in the world to be enter-
tained, to make money and look
out only for ourselves.

"We have a responsibility to one
another and to our earth," she
adds. "There's nothing 1 believe in
more deeply than the Prayer of St.
Francis it is in giving that we
receive."

Last yean the Rev. Adams was

honored with the Emory Univer-
sity Medal for her service to the
community. She was "the hub of
the effort to awaken public
awareness to the plight of home-
less people," according to the
proclamation.

"You were more than an advo-
cate," the proclamation .continued,
"you organized the ministry and
worked tirelessly as servant to the
homeless. Your dedicated idealism
validates the best in liberal educa-
'tion."

Indeed, Joanna Adams firmly
believes in the power of a liberal
arts education to transform and
uplift societal. values and individ-
ual ethics.

"I believe that teaching a
responsible social ethic and trans-
forming that social ethic away from
a closed-minded social ethic or sur--
vival economics is partly the func-
tion of a liberal arts college like
Agnes Scott," she says. "It's not
that Agnes Scott, because it is a
Christian and Presbyterian institu-
tion, is trying to make everyone
adhere to Christian-Judeo values,
but [because] it understands there
is a higher good to which we must -
use our life and service. "-SAR

hope to nourish them. We don't
receive any money from the church
or any restrictions, but we hope to

the College."

Trustees such as Betty Henderson

Cameron '43 of Wilmington, N.C.,
note that Ruth Schmidt, the first
woman to serve as the College's
president, is improving the College's
renown. "The president is very well-
known nationally, and 1 think that
has helped the College quite a bit,"
she said.

The board is also forging ahead
on other fronts, including increas-
ing the international and racial
diversity of the student body. "I

think we have a tairly diverse stu-
dent body, though I'm sorry to say
we don't have t)ne black faculty
member," says Mr. Gellerstedt.

"Despite our Christian heritage,
we're open to any faculty members,
any students, because we figure that
we are searching for the truth.
Exposure to different opinions,
whether political or religious, helps
us develop our own thoughts. We
have no apology for our ties to the
Presbyterian Church and we're not
for everyone, but we're taking a
positive approach to try to increase
the diversity."

Another project is to develop a
covenant relationship with the Pres-
byterian Church. "We first started as
part of the Decatur Presbyterian
Church," says Mr. Gellerstedt.
"Those seeds were planted, but we

create a written C(>\enant because
we're extremely proud ot where we
came from. At the same time we
want diversity at Agnes Scott," he
continues. "We want to make a
statement about our past."

Over the years, Agnes Scott's
mission to provide for the "moral
and intellectual training and educa-
tion" ot young women, as the Col-
lege's 1889 charter stated, has
remained constant.

"In nearly 100 years, the Ci^Uege
has had 14,000 students," says Dor-
othy Halloran Addison '43. "In
another century, we will have gradu-
ated 12,000 to 14,000 more. It
doesn't sound like a lot but it makes
a tremendt)us difference in the
Southeast, the whole country. Just
about everywhere, we have gradu-
ates who are dedicated teachers,
raising families, entering the profes-
sions. In every area they choose to
serve, Agnes Scott graduates have
an impact."

While freshmen no longer arrive
by train for their first semesters at
Agnes Scott and their boyfriends no
longer take the trolley car to
Decatur to visit their favorite Scot-
tie, as Larry Gellerstedt did in the
1940s, some aspects of academic life
at Agnes Scott have remained the
same.

"From the beginning, the purpose
of the College was to educate
women in the liberal arts," says Mr.
Gellerstedt. "Agnes Scott was a
place where women could excel in
the liberal arts taught in a Christian
atmosphere. One hundred years
later, that's exactly the same."

Sheryl Roehl is a farmer reporter for
The Athmta jmirnal/Constitution.

^r^^lcc cnrMT ai

^MAC ^^Ar^A7IMC ORt

B

BLACK
AND
WHITE
DOES NOT
EQUAL
<. \Y

lY STA^.

N O I L E S

For a black tamily, mine was not
atypical. Both my parents worked
hard, neither went to college. They
had high aspirations for me. Educa-
tion was a valued commodity. It I
had a nickel tor every time my father
would tell me, "Kids don't appreci-
ate the opportunities they hax'e
today I wish I'd had this chance
when I was growing up . . . "

When it came time to choose
a college, 1 narrowed down m\
choices to three all ot them in
New England. One, a large urban
uni\'ersity, another a small, co-ed
liberal arts college in Harttord.

Conn. , and the third a women's
ceiUege in Western Massachusetts.
When I told my mother I was
leaning toward Smith College, 1
remember her urging me to go
there. She knew it was a good col-
lege. Mv bookish mother frequentlv
ran across the name while reading.
So 1 went to Smith College with
a little nudging from my mother and
with a heady sense ot intatuation (I
had already seen its beautiful cam-
pus). .And although I tound some ot
the most enlightened people there I
have e\er known, 1 soon found out
that liberal arts is not all one leanis

K

&

in college especially it you are
black. My syllabus included valu-
able lessons in human nature,
lessons I still use to navigate
almost seven years after my
graduation.

I can remember thumbing
through dusty yearbooks at college,
left over from decades before, and
trying to find a single black face.
There weren't many. Maybe one
every four years or so, sometimes
none. But Smith was the rule, not
the exception.

As far as blacks are concerned.
Southern schools have an even more

recent track record. As Agnes Scott
turns the pages of its history in the
months leading up to Centennial,
black faces will be noticeably few. Ot
the College's approximately 9,000
living graduates, 45 have been
black. The College admitted its first
black student in 1965, graduated its
first black student in 1971.

The '70s were giddy years tor
blacks and higher education. The
portals were thrown open during the
decade of equal opportunity. Black
students won a number of con-
cessions during clashes with college
and university administrations.

including black studies programs
and more black faculty and staft. But
now, many colleges have dropped or
altered special programs and some
blacks feel that higher education is
renegging on its commitment to
minorities.

Admissions officers at selec-
tive institutions claim to find it
increasingly difficult to attract
"competitive" black students.
Columbia University's assistant
director of admissions admitted to
The New York Times that they no
longer recruit as many black stu-
dents in the inner city schools sur-

AGNFS scon ALUMNAE MAGAZINE 271

campus. "I know of one school
where 10 years ago we used to take
the top 20," she says. "Now we
are lucky if the top five are
competitive."

For some young blacks, higher
education doesn't offer a viable
option. "College is no guarantee of
success," says one young man in The
Chronicle of Higher Education. "A
lot of blacks graduated from college
and they are standing in the unem-
ployment lines just like everybody
else."

"The number ot black 18- to 24-
year-olds with high school degrees
increased from 2.7 million in 1980
to 2.8 million in 1985," reports The
Chronicle. Colleges are losing
young blacks to vocational schools
and the military at an alarming rate.

Director ot Admissions Ruth
Vedvik feels good regarding Agnes
Scott's track record at attracting
black students. "It's one of the areas
we've really done a good job in so
far. 1 don't think we've done as good
a job on campus, which hurts us in
recruiting," she admits. "I'd like to
see continued emphasis on improv-
ing life for blacks here on campus."

Seven percent of the student pop-
ulation at Agnes Scott is black, she
says. "A lot ot fine schools would he
delighted to have one to two percent
of blacks in their student body," she
adds.

Of course one to two percent at
Rice or Tulane is a lot more bodies
than the 30 or so black students at
Agnes Scott, but Ms. Vedvik
believes that is stressing the wrong
point. "We probably work a lot
harder to recruit one student
black, white or whatever," she says.

Because of its smaller size, Agnes
Scott can take advantage ot the per-
sonal touch. Jenifer Cooper '86, the
College's minority admissions coun-
selor, visits predominately-black
high .schools in the metropolitan
Atlanta area, and the states of
Georgia, Alabama and South Car-

olina. Agnes Scott participates in a
college fair held for black students
and sponsored by the National
Scholarship Service and Fund for
Negro Students or NSSFNS, for
short.

"We have several events especially
tor black students during recruit-
ment weekends," says Ms. Vedvik.
"We discuss issues they should
address when looking at a pre-
dominately-white college." The
admissions officer does not try to
sugarcoat the tacts. She brings in
alumnae and present students to
speak with black prospective stu-
dents. "We try to stress that they
will grow from the experience in
ways that they wouldn't if they
attended a predominately-black
institution," notes Ms. Vedvik.

Many blacks would argue that
they are more likely to grow more
resilient. Glo Eva Ross-Beliard is a
Return to College student who is no
stranger to the struggle for equal
opportunity. She was jailed 16 times
before the age of 18 because of her
participation in civil rights demon-
strations. However, she believes that
"the challenge to young blacks at
this time is probably even greater in
terms ot things that are hidden, hid-
den ideas or hidden actions."

Ot the black students I spoke
with here at Agnes Scott, all were
happy with the education they are
receiving. But for many ot them,
attending a predominately-white
school is like taking a dose ot medi-
cine. It may not taste good going
down, hut the result will be worth
it. They tell tales ot social lives that
are often negligible or nonexistent
and ot rocky relations with white
students and professors.

"One girl told e\^erybody she had
to make me shut up because I was a
Kuid freshman," says one Agnes
Scott student, now a junior. "She
never heard me, I never went out ot
my room. I told her she was a liar
and she immediately clammed up.

She was going on the impression
that all black people are loud."

Black students say their dates are
treated differently when they come
on campus. "When a white man
comes on campus girls don't even
think about it twice," says one.
"They help them find whoever
they're trying to find. A black man
comes on campus and the police are
called to get them and escort them
off. They have to prove that they're
legitimate and that's just not the
type of treatment you want to
have."

Karen Green '86, director of stu-
dent activities and housing, con-
curs. "We are frightening away the
few black men brave enough to
come over here," she says.

The responsibility to assimilate
usually rests squarely on the shoul-
ders of black students. Often
expected to he an arbiter of all
things black, they are frustrated by
white students who utter insensitive
comments or ask probing questions.
A black student will often find
herselt solo after lab partners are
chosen for science courses and sit-
ting alone at the lunch table. Social
situations can get unner\'inglv
uncomfortable. One Agnes Scott
treshman who attended a small, pre-
dominately-white prep school,
relates how tunny she teels at rush
parties. She has discovered that in
college, unlike her high school,
"there is pressure being around a lot
of white students when vou're the
only black."

Ironically, the more pressure
blacks teel to make the first move
with white students, the more they
tend to turn to each other. This
in turn can make white students
resenttul and sometimes hostile. In
her study, "The Plight of Black Stu-
dents on White Campuses," the
University ot Wisconsin's Dr. Car-
olyn Dejoie wrote, "Black students
have been criticized tor 'segregating'
themseKes. Howe\'er, sharing com-
Conrinuid on Page 30

128 SPRING 1988

tlio way ot rlic workl. Or
mayhc the racial climate in this
country really /iti.s chanqcJ as close
observers lia\e been tellinj^ us all
alont;. Rut all oi the black alumnae
intervieweil tor this article were
pleased with their A.<;;nes Scott
education. The issue ot race is
soniethinj^ they chose not to dwell
on in their rememhrances of A^'nes
Scott. Rather, they chose to re-
niemher the close friendships they
made and their academic train-
ing.

"1 really appreciated the rij^or-
ous course ot study," says Belita
Stafford Walker 72, one of Anes
Scott's earliest hlack graduates. "At
the time, it was a challenj^e." She
is now a clinical .social worker
in practice with her husband in
C'olumbus, C<a. She encouraged
her sister-in-law, Princeanna
Walker, a junior, to attend Af^nes
Scott.

Ms. Walker had the unenviable
position ot bein^ the only black
residential student on campus the
first two years ot her stay here. She
believes that beinj^ an only child
helped a lot, as well as pioneerinjj;
before. "I had been a trailblazer in
hi"h school," she notes. "I was

amonj:; the first group of students to
intejj;rate Columbus High School.
Ot course, there were a whole lot
more of me there than at Scott."

She concedes that she "missed
the presence ot other blacks on
campus to share things that would
have been particular to me."

Her social life was always an
effort she says, but a hometown
friend at Emory University eased
the burden somewhat.

Vernita Bowden Lockhart '76, a
native Atlantan, also went off
campus to .socialize, but having lots
ot friends at the predominately-
black Atlanta University Center
helped. She was one iit two blacks
in her class, l-n)rh of whom lived in
Walters.

She recalls one racial incident in
her dorm freshman year. Her fUxir
gave a birthday party to which she
was invited. When she arrived, a
white student ttild her the party
was tor whites only and she'd have
to leave. "It took everyone by sur-
pri.se," she says. "1 must have had a
very hurt look on my face, then she
laughed and said, 'Oh Vernita, I'm
just kidding.' Today I wish 1 had
said something to give her some-
thing to think about."

Still, she recalls the College
fondly and contributes every year.
"The rea.son is that they gave me
something," she explains. "They
really helped me. My parents
couldn't have afforded to send me
to Scott. There were three of us in
college at the same time."

Kecia Cunningham, who gradu-
ated last year, spent her first two
years at Wellesley College in Mas-
sachusetts. "I didn't identify with a
lot of things the women who went
to Wellesley were doing," she says
of her decision to come to Agnes
Scott. "1 spent a lot of time trying
to make money to buy clothes and
other things to fit in. 1 was ped-
dling as fast as I could, but couldn't
keep up. I lost sight ot me.

"Agnes Scott had always had a
very soft spot in my heart. They
stood out because of the personal
touch." After deciding to leave
Wellesley, she "never thought
about going anyplace else.

"I really love the College and
have no problem recommending it
to my sister or any incoming fresh-
man, black or white."

She also .sees problems with the
.social situatit)n of black students at
predominately-white institutions.
"Blacks on campus are left to their
own devices as to meeting other
black men and women," she says.

"1 can remember going to frat
parties being the only black in
the entire room and feeling very
uncomfortable. It was nothing to
go to a frat party and not be talked
to all night. I eventually stt)pped
putting myself through that

It is difficult for blacks to attend
predominately-white colleges,
the.se women agreed. Some survive

Cunningham put it succinctly:
"You have to be sure of your iden-
tity as a black person to make it
worthwhile." SN

Kecia CuriTiing/iam

AGNES scon ALUMNAE MAGAZINE 291

riiunding the University's Harlem
mon experiences, empathy and
understanding is the bonding ele-
ment that sustains [them] through
the turmoil of unequal opportunity
in white-dominated higher educa-
tion."

During their college years many
blacks find themselves fighting to be
seen and heard by their white peers.
A white student at Vanderbilt and
a founder ot the school's Racial
Environment Project acknowledged,
"There is no encouragement among
the whites. . . to become friends with
[blacks]. It's not hateful; it's kind of
an indifference."

Says Robert E. Pollack, dean of
Columbia College, "If you don't
have a friend of another race in col-
lege, it becomes less likely that you
will at any point after that."

The classroom and residence hall
each present their own set of prob-
lems.

Students report challenging fac-
ulty members who still teach mate-
rial about blacks that is dated or
stereotypical. In some classes the
contributions ot blacks are ignored
altogether. The black students
I talked with at Agnes Scott
expressed dismay that professors
don't often understand their cultural
perspective and will see their ideas
as somehow wrong or missing the
point. "The black experience is
much different," says Ms. Ross-
Beliard. "When you have a different
perspective it doesn't mean that that
perspective is incorrect, it means
that it's just different."

"I had a student tell me about a
professor who told the class that
blacks had never contributed any-
thing to the civilized world," said
Jenifer Cooper, almost shaking with
anger. "Why should a black student
have to put up with that.'"

Often students still find them-
selves butting heads with admin-
istrators w ho do not or refuse to
understand their special needs. "For
a long time there wasn't enough

130 SPRING 1988

support from the university," says a
Harvard Radcliffe junior in Ebony
magazine. "It was the school's
attempt to say 'Well, now that
you've brought whatever has made
you special to the campus, forget
about it everybody's the same.'
But while things are fairly harmo-
nious racially, you still want to pre-
serve what you have in common."

Increasing racial disharmony on
their campuses and low retention
rates for black students are snapping
educators out of their complacency.
Last year officials from 27 selective
liberal arts colleges, Bowdoin,
Davidson, Grinnell, Pomona,
Smith and Wellesley, among them,
met to discuss these issues. Jenifer
Cooper and Dean of Students Cue
Pardue Hudson '68 were there also.
"After Swarthmore," Dean Hudson
admits, "I wondered. Are we being
inclusive? Are we doing enough?'"

Perhaps not. The buzzword that
crops up frequently in conversations
with black students here at Agnes
Scott and elsewhere is alienation.
As Ralph Ellison's protagonist says
in "Invisible Man," "... People
refuse to see me. . . . When they
approach me they see only my sur-
roundings, themselves, or figments
of their imagination indeed,
everything and anything except
me."

Discussing her years at Agnes
Scott a junior echoes this senti-
ment. "I feel invisible. I don't feel
as invisible as I did the two years
before, and the reason is that I have
raised hell. And it wasn't to gain
attention, but I have jolted people
and said, Look, you're going to see
me, damn it.' And they've seen
me."

The student thmks that when
white students plan social events,
black students are not considered.
"We don't cross their minds," she
says bluntly. But if a social e\ent
fulfills the needs ot many, why pan-
der to a few.' "We have fees just like
the rest to pay tor our enjoyment.

our social functions, our political
functions. We pay the same amount
of money as white students and
should get the same amount of
repayment from that," she says
adamantly.

"There are many religously
involved black women on campus,"
she explains. "When I looked at the
list of churches that the Christian
Association was offering to take us
to, they were all white churches.
Every demonimation you could
think of, but all white. I brought
that to their attention, but it hasn't
changed, even though they weren't
aware that they had overlooked the
black students in that way."

"Most black students at majontv-
white institutions must deal with a
double dose of disassociation," says
Que Hudson.

Regardless of the wealth or status
of her family, a black student has
different cultural perceptions and
expectations than her white coun-
terpart. She knows a lot about the
rules ot the game as greater society
plays it, but very rarely does society
tailor itself to her needs. To be
cultural on white terms, she's ex-
pected to be well-versed in Bach,
Beethoven and Balanchme, not
John Coltrane, Charlie "Bird" Par-
ker and Katherine Dunham. Not
only are her white colleagues un-
familiar with black literature or
culture, but often thev dismiss it as
irrelevant.

Students coming from lower eco-
nomic classes may find the schism
e\en wider. They may waffle back
and forth between accepted modes
ot behaxior and dress. Says Prince-
ton University's assistant dean tor
recruitment in The New York
Times, "There is no question stu-
dents from economically disad\an-
taged backgrounds have an awkward
adjustment at a place like Prince-
ton, and then you add to that a
minority background. There proba-
bly aren't as many people as you like
who understand the situation. And
Continued on Page 33

easy to he misunderstood,
rej^ardless ot the side yt)ii're on."
Professor of Sociolof^y Jt)hn Tum-
hiin's reference was to the touchy
and often volatile issue of mint>rity
hirinj^ in the faculty ranks. And if
his words sound as if hattle lines
have been drawn, in some respects
they have. At Aj^nes Scott and
other coilejjies acri>ss the country,
faculty have been fj;iven a mandate:
to find hiack scholars and hrinj^
them to their campuses.

For faculty hirinji; committees,
the issue is more complex. Blacks
earned 820 of the 31 ,770 doctoral
decrees awarded in 1986. That
number represents 26. 5 percent
fewer than in 1977. Over half of
the decrees were in education. A
cU>ser look at the statistics signifies
an even more ominous trend.
While the number of Ph. D.s
awarded to black women has risen
over 15 percent since 1977, those
awarded to black male;: decrea.sed
by half. Add to this the difficulties
of lurinji black scholars to small
collef;;e campuses in towns with few
or no blacks and the picture looks
bleak.

Those colleges that have been
successful in boostint; black fac-

ulty on their campuses say talking
about the need is not enough.
Aggressive, often unorthodox,
action is necessary to achieve racial
balance, these administrators
agree. "When you're at an institu-
tion that does not have a long his-
tory or a sizable black population,
the traditional methods don't take
you far enough," Jan Kettlewell,
Miami University's dean of educa-
tion and allied professit)ns, told
The Chronicle of Higher
Education.

How does that picture translate
for a school such as Agnes Scott?
With a black student population of
seven percent, Agnes Scott has no
black t)r minority professors. Its
small academic departments usu-
ally require jack-of-all-trade pro-
fessors, or generalists, as they are
commonly known, to fill one spot,
but the rest are usually specialists.
Like other aspects of the econ-
omy, the situation becomes one of
supply and demand. The upside is
that the few and prized black
Ph. D.s in mathematics will proba-
bly make a higher starting salary
than their white counterparts. But
the expectation of paying a black
more can often serve to lock them
out as well.

"In a sense we're caught in a
bind," says John Tumblin. "The
consensus is that the faculty is m)t
working hard entnigh ti> get a black
on campus, yet with a limited bud-
get, the department knows what it
wants in the way of specialists. The
department has a responsibility for
spending mtmey as efficiently as
possible."

He thinks the faculty should
press for an endt)wed chair in black
studies. "Then with enough money
for a chair, we can advertise for a
black scholar who'll teach across
several disciplines." None of the
departments currently involved in
a faculty search held out any hope
t)f finding a black candidate. Either
their areas of specialty, such as

European history, were not popular
among black doctoral candidates,
or they had not been successful in
luring black candidates in the past.
"I'm a little anxious about what we
will find in terms of a generalist
who is also black," says theatre's
Dudley Sanders, whose department
is currently conducting a search.

But scarcity is not the only
obstacle to luring black scholars.
Hardly ever uttered publicly, but
sometimes believed privately, is the
notion that hiring blacks will
somehow lower academic stan-
dards. "In the late 1970s we saw a
temporary increase in the number
of blacks getting Ph. D.s, an in-
crease in the number of positions
available," said William B. Harvey,
a senior member of the Research
Group for Human Development
and Educational Policy at the State
University of New York at Stony
Brook, in The New York Times.
"[We] still saw a declining num-
ber of blacks on faculties. Clearly
universities are nt)t interested in
blacks with the requisite
credentials."

S(.)me schools like the University
of Massachusetts, Ohio's Miami
University and Kennesaw College
in Georgia have been extremely
successful in their efforts to recruit
and retain black faculty. One com- ,
mon denominator, they say, is
commitment from the top. "The
school's chancellor must set the
tone," said Robert Corrigan, chan-
cellor of the University of Mas-
sachusetts at Boston, in The New
York Times. "Once blacks know
the institutit)n is receptive to
them, they come."

Administrators have a tough job
challenging misleading and damag-
ing perceptions, but, said Dr. Ed
Rugg, interim vice president for
academic affairs at Kennesaw, "If
you assume that it's difficult or next
to impossible to attract blacks then ^
there's probably a self-fulfilling ^
prophecy at wi)rk there. "

Continued on Page 33*'

AGNES SCOTT ALUMNAE MAGAZINE 31

Local Success Story

Kennesaw Q)llef!;o would seem to
have everythinjj; K"'",!.' against it as
an appealiri):;; environment tor
blacks. It is located in the northern
reaches ot Cohh County, which
has one of the lowest percentages
of black inhabitants in the five-
county Atlanta metro area. It is
part of the University System of
Georgia, a sprawling, commuter
campus of st)me 8,000 students.
Yet Kennesaw has 21 black faculty
members, up from six just three or
four years ago. They represent 10
percent of the faculty.

"We started with a commitment

of body counts," said Dr. Rugg.
"Black colleagues working closely
with whites demonstrates the ef-
fectiveness ot an integrated
community, not just in terms ot

agency.

For Kennesaw the process did
not happen overnight. The ct)llege
began its effort by going directly to
sibtf black ct)mnuinity. C'ollege
^"^ Betty Siegcl spoke at
"ches and community
ii*p ministers and com-
^t, impressed by Ken-

the college to their constituents.
"The confidence we built over the
course of the first ct)uple of years
helped in our recruiting efforts,"
said Dr. Rugg. "That extra effort
told people we were serious." It has
paid off in increased black repre-
sentation among students, staff
and faculty. Several black churches
demonstrated their faith in Ken-
nesaw by contributing scholarship
funds to the school.

To Dr. Rugg, equal opportunity
and equal access don't always mean
the same thing. "Sometimes we
operate on the assumption that if
we throw out the net, everyone will
have the same oppt)rtunity to get
intt) it. But that's often not true
and one has to be mt)re creative at
times. "

Lest anyt)ne believe that all
these scholars are in black-related
disciplines. Dr. Rugg m)tes that
Kennesaw has no Afro- American
studies department. "We didn't
earmark them for black studies," he
said, "rather we weave that dit-

lum." Kennesaw 's black faculty
runs across the board ot academic
di.sciplines, from history and politi-
cal science to psychology, music
and languages. "Virtually every
department has a black colleague,
some have more," he noted, a
rather envious ptisition tor any
institution to be in.

The One That Got Away

Ironically, Agnes Scott's only
tull-time black prtite.ssor, a sab-
batical replacement in the English
department, now teaches at Ken-
nesaw. Carolyn Denard spent a
year at the College in I984-8S. "1
expressed a desire to stay, my rela-
tionship with students and faculty
was good," she now says. "On
the teaching side, it seemed that
student enrolhnent at the time

they did have open, was not in my
area." Dr. Denard's concentration
is in American literature, the
department was then looking tor a

"I did everything but hack-flips
to keep her here," said Pat Pinka,
then-English department chair.
"She was a very good teacher.

"Bible and religion, economics
and English all recommended her
for the position ot a.s.sociate dean ot
the College," she noted, hut it later
went to Dr. David Bchan, professor
t)f philosophy.

While .she was at Agnes Scott
Carolyn Denard saw her presence
as an asset to both black and white
students. "I think that's a point
that's often forgotten," she said.
"Cultural education on the other
side can create the kind ot well-
rounded person that [liberal arts
institutions) strive tor.

"I've had students at Kennesaw
tell me, I didn't like blacks before 1
took ytnir class," she explained.
"St) it's more than retention, it's
exposing people to all kinds ot
cultural opportunities they haven't
had."

As tor black students at Agnes
Scott she noted, "I got a real .sense
from them that they wanted some-
one there someKxIy that you
ci>uld talk to without explaining a
lot ot things."

College Dean Ellen Wood Hall
'67 hi>pes that there soon will he
someone following in C^iarolyn
Denard's footsteps, although she

about the ditticulties ot attracting a
black protessor to a campus that
currently has none. That person
will ser\e as UK-ntor, role model,
token, and nuignet at the same
time. It's otten an extraordinary

ulty UKMuber. And the po

mitred teachers. Bur, she .said ada-
mantly, "There will be someone
who will be willing to take the risk
and become the tust, the second
and third, I hope." SN

K2 SPRING 1988

when you go home, that feeling
doesn't go away."

"Sometimes I feel like I am going
through a time warp, " says a Yale
student in the same article. "It's two
different worlds. At times I have felt
like I don't really belong anywhere."

Dean Hudson belives that "it
takes a very strong woman to deal
with so much confusion at such
a young age and crucial state
of development." After the
Swarthmore Conference, she and
Jenifer Cooper met with faculty,
staff and student groups around
campus to make others aware of the
difficulties minorities face on white
college campuses.

"The conference made me realize
how much more needed to be done
on our campus and nationally to
ensure that more minority students
are recruited and graduated from
selective liberal arts colleges," says
Dean Hudson. "It is clear that we
are just beginning to realize how we
have failed to support many of the
needs of these students," she adds.
"There are some things we have
done that I'm proud of," she admits.
First and foremost is a stronger pres-
ence of black administrative staff.
From the Office of Development to
Director of Student Activities stu-
dents are seeing more blacks faces in
the college's offices. "By having a
minority woman, Karen Green, as
director of student activities," says
Dean Hudson, "we have signifi-
cantly reduced racially-based room-
mate problems.

"Students for Black Awareness
(SBA) has taken a more pro-
nounced role on campus with
more visibility than in the past," she
continues. Their officers went on
the Student Government Retreat
last year for the first time.

The dean is also proud of the
campus' celebration of Black His-
tory Month during February. This
year's Founder's Day speaker was
former Congresswoman Shirley
Chisholm.

President Ruth Schmidt opened
this academic year by unofficially
making it "the year of community
diversity." She appointed a group
charged with "developing and rec-
ommending educational activities
and programs, formal and informal,
that will sensitize all persons in the
community to the richness of under-
standing other persons' lives." This
year's Staley Lecture Series featured
a panel on racism that offered pro-
vocative discussion. It was moder-
ated by the Rev. Rebecca Reyes, the
first hispanic woman ordained a
Presbyterian minister.

The president has also asked
the faculty to look more closely at
recruiting minority faculty (see side-
bar). However, the struggle among
colleges to secure black faculty is
every bit as tense as their struggle to
attract highly qualified students.
Although minorities accounted for
20 percent of the nation's college
age population in 1983, they
received only 8 percent of the
31,190 earned doctorates that year.
Of that group, blacks, Puerto
Ricans, Mexican Americans and
native Americans together made up
a scant 4.4 percent. The number of
blacks earning their master's was 6.5
percent in 1979, down to 5.8 per-
cent in 1981. Educators see little
hope of these statistics improving.

And as Brent Staples wrote in
The New York Times, "The fewer
black faculty members and admin-
istrators there are, the fewer role
models and recruiters exist to attract
the next generation of blacks to col-
lege campuses."

"You don't have to be a genius to
see what all this declining access
adds up to," says a professor of polit-
ical science at the University of
Chicago. "People are being perma-
nently locked out of opportunities."

Agnes Scott administrators are
hopeful. The College has an excel-
lent chance of attracting qualified
minority faculty and administrators
due to its close proximity to a city

associated with booming oppor-
tunities for blacks.

After allowing the concerns of
minority students to fall prey to
"benign neglect," to their credit
many colleges and universities are
starting to pay attention to these
issues again. "Schools with long-
term plans are seeing that if they
want to maintain enrollment, they
have to look toward minority com-
munities," says Ruth Vedvik. "We
have a chief executive here who is
very committed to minority issues,"
she continues, "but the rest of
society has a real job in getting
these kids through school and pre-
paring them for college."

Statistics show that by 2025,
nearly 40 percent of the country's
18- to 24-year-olds will be minority
group members, according to a
report by the Education Commis-
sion of the States and the State
Higher Education Executive
Officers. "Focus on Minorities:
Trends in Higher Education Par-
ticipation and Success" concludes
that "minorities cannot achieve full
participation without access to
institutions, but access is not
enough.

"Successful completion of a
demanding, high-quality under-
graduate curriculum is the key to
minority success. This is why states
must, and have, put such a great
emphasis on collaborative work
with the schools to improve aca-
demic preparation," the report
states.

As for Agnes Scott, Dean Hud-
son remains optimistic, "There are
people in important positions com-
mitted to making this a reality," she
says. "And I think we'll continue to
progress. "0

Stacey Noiles is managing editor of this
magazine.

AGNES SCOTT ALUMNAE MAGAZINE 35ll

FINALE

Prospects shine
brightly for the
Becl< telescope

Alberto Sadun is already
smiling over the pending
move of Agnes Scott's Beck
telescope. "For three years
there has not been a single
astronomy major," the as-
sistant professor of astronomy
says. "This year 1 have
six because the rumor went
around that the telescope will
be moving."

It is rumor no more. In
October the board of trustees
approved relocating the 30-
inch telescope to a site at
Hard Labor Creek State
Park less than an hour's
drive from the College.
Agnes Scott would be in part-
nership with Georgia State
University, which would own
and operate the new obser-
vatory. The move will cost
the College approximately
$25,000. Georgia State will
furnish the building, some
instrumentation and build a
ritad leading to the site.

For astronomers and other
folks, Atlanta's growing pop-
ulation makes stargazing an
increasingly difficult diver-
sion. The more people, the
more streetlights, billboards
and so on. Consequently,
light pollution litters the
nighttime sky. "We can see
20 or 30 stars from here,"
explains Professor Sadun.
"From downtown Atlanta you
can see two or three at most."

At Hard Labor Creek, one
ot the darkest sites in the
Southeast, according to the
professor, one can see as
many as 6,000 stars. What's
more, there's only the dim-
mest chance that lights will
i.iin on their parade. "The
new observing site is in the
middlr I't a state park adja-
cent ii i,;tional forest. By

the time we celebrate Agnes
Scott's second centennial, we
fully expect the telescope to
be there and operating effi-
ciently," notes Professor
Sadun.

"The difference is really
going to be incredible," he
continues. "Between the dark
skies of the new site and the
new instrumentation, it will
increase the sensitivity by a
factor of 1,000. [The Beck]
will rival any telescope in the
East."

Photographic exposures
that take 60 minutes in
Decatur can be done in 4 sec-
onds at the new site. Soph-
omore Amy Lovell told the
Profile, "It's difficult to do
research when you have to
take an hour-long exposure.
You have to babysit the tele-
scope and cover the pho-
tographic plate when planes
fly over, develop and then let
them dry. C'ompared to that,

ha\'ing an image ot the object
in four seconds is wonderful."

Alberto Sadun concurs,
"We will be able to do things
that represent high quality
research."

Students will only have to
spend a few days at the obser-
vatory, then return to Agnes
Scott to analyze the data. Dr.
Sadun sees publishable results
from this. "People all over the
country will suddenly be
taking an interest in what
goes on in this corner of the
world," he says.

Bradley Observatory will

still house the department's
labs and lecture rooms and
several smaller scopes. Dr.
Sadun, also the obser\'atory's
director, is looking for a
smaller, powerful telescope to
replace the Beck. .A smaller
one will work just as well, he
believes, if designed with
light pc^llution in mind.

But, he stresses, "vou can't
see dim objects from here.
Period. No matter what. Ten
years from now only bright
planets and the \ery brightest
ot nebulas will be \isible."

PROSE PROPOSITIONS

As part of the Centennial Celebration, the College plans
to publish a short, illustrated history of its first 100 years. If
you have experience in writing or editing such a book or
know someone who does, please send name, address and
resume or background information to: Carolyn Wynens,
Director of the Centennial Celebration, Agnes Scott
College, Decatur, Ga., 30030.

t?A '^PPINC ios

FINALE

College mourns
Dr. George Hayes

Professar of English Ementiis
George Passmore Hayes died
Oct. 22. Linda Lentz Hubert
'62, a professor of English at
Agnes Scott, was one of his
pupils. She chose the occasion of
Sophomore Parents Weekend in
1976 to reflect (jn him. This
article is excerpted from her
speech.

There is nothing more exhila-
rating than the process ot
watching the births of our
own imaginative and intellec-
tual capacities, nothing more
stimulating than our own
small epiphanies, our very
personal confrontations with
the wonders of the human
mind.

Pfofessot George Hayes was
the ideal impetus tor this
delight. "The art of teaching
is the art of assisting discov-
ery," wrote Mark Van Doren,
surely thinking of George
Passmore Hayes as he wrote.
The study of his private hours
expanded and included us,
the students in his classroom.
We discovered literature in
his company: nothing came
packaged neatly or very sys-
tematically; a student's class
notes were probably no more
orderly than the vigorous
crayon underlinings in Dr.
Hayes' books seemed to be.
But those underlinings were
deceptive in their apparent
sloppiness; intricate indexes
bound his studious notations
together. The student, in her
seemingly disjointed notes,
might if she were lucky, cap-
ture a sense of the life the
true and vital ordering in the
class. Her brain would inev-
itably leave class reeling,
struggling desperately to keep
pace with the emotions.

A Phi Beta Kappa gradu-
ate of Swarthmore College,

George Hayes received his
doctorate from Harvard,
studying under the famous
scholar, George Lyman Kit-
tredge. For several years, he
taught at Roberts College in
Istanbul, Turkey, hist)nly
teaching job before coming
to Agnes Scott to head the
Department of English in
1927. He rented at 70 in
1967, receiving then many
tributes of the love and honor
in which he was held. His
retirement was, ot course,
duly noted in the Agnes Scott
Profile. I am interested in the
publication of an interview
that apparently took place in
a small dusty room under the
Presser stage. The interview
was not given in Dr. Hayes'
own office a self-expressive,
slightly larger, probably dust-
ier room in the bowels ot
Presser sophomores were

using his office and its ple-
thora of books for study, and
he wouldn't have them dis-
turbed. In that interview Dr.
Hayes observed that soph-
omores were always his favor-
ite class to teach. He liked
them best, he explained,
because "they can be im-
pressed, because they work
hard, because they will stick
their necks out in class." The
sophomores who used that
office to prepare tor their test
should have done well: the
atmosphere of the Hayes sanc-
tum had to be well charged.

1 will always have vivid
memories ot an afternoon
some years ago. Dr. Hayes,
who was then still in his little
house on McLean Street, had
books by and about Stendhal
spread all over the dining
t.ible and his study table as
well. His face was animated

with enthusiasm for the great
author; his brain was alive
with plans to teach Stendhal
to the groups of women still
coming to him tor liter:ity
leadership.

In the course ot his career.
Professor Hayes did little oi
the practical and .sometimes
professionally profitable pub-
lishing of articles in learned
journals. He appriwed ot
research, but tor him teach-
ing was being both student
and teacher and was all-con-
suming. Over the years,
however, he wrote a numbet
of shiirt pieces for various
occasions at Agnes Scott,
and in one ot these he speaks
of the quest for identity
or individuality, which is
another way of defining the
ptocess of study, the discovery
of its )oy.

With you. going the same
journey, are we teachers.
We are like the quarterback
ivho throws passes at
the. . [tigfitj end runnijit;
full speed toward his goal.
Yet basically ive and you are
not pcilagogues and pupils:
we are fell iw beings whose
spirits interlock with yours as
together we search, without
us and uiithiti, for beauty,
holiness ami truth. What we
find comes to us like new
found Lind. In fact it is
more: it is a new heaven arid
a new earth, not the same
okl hell, h IS also a gUmous
secret m the breast thiit
nuikes the heart dance, the
step light, and keeps ont'
^onihjul beyimd the iLiys of
youth.

That zeal for study charac-
terized Professor Hayes all his
life and sustained a remark-
able and youthful spirit with
an immense capacity tor
le;irning and teaching.

Linda Lentz Hubert

A(^t\iF<; <;rnn ai iimnaf magazine 351

Agnes Scott College
Decatur, Georgia 30030

Nonprofit Organization

U.S. POSTAGE

PAID

Decatur, GA 30030

Permit No. 469

What are black
students learning
on white campuses?

^CK

v^'^*^

Vi^SfeS^'CJ5W!.t<4^lfife& 5SB5fe3P^^

OUT THE WINDOW

This summer, twenty Agnes
Scdtt faculty members went
hack to school. In a seminar
partially funded by a grant from the
National Endowment for the Human-
ities, faculty from disciplines across the
board again hit the books. Their study
created a springboard to explore how
values are taught in our society. Pro-
fessors waded through stacks of assign-
ed reading during evenings and week-
ends, then listened to scholarly pre-
sentations and discussed the topics dur
ing the day. Serious reading here
the Old Testament, Aristotle, John
Locke, Simone de Beauvior, and other
leading voices of Western values. In
reading and discussion, they pondcrcLJ
how these texts conveyed certain \al-
ues, and how these values affected
modem values and self-perceptions.
They asked: What marks an educated person? What
values, knowledge, and sensibilities should a graduate
possess.' How are those qualities developed.' In essence,
how do we teach ?

Implicit in our faculty's deliberations was its belief
that education is more than transmitting knowledge; it
must challenge students to use their knowledge and
ability wisely.

I listened to similar discussions recently on the other
side of the country, at the national meeting m
Anaheim, Calif., of the Council for the Ad\'ancement
and Suppcirt of Education., of which Agnes Scott is a
member. Advancement professionals must understand
antl articulate their institution's needs and strengths, as
well as education's broader issues.

Agnes Scott has again been honored for doing this
well. In the 1987 CASE Recognition Program, we re-
cei\-ed top national honors for the design of our recrLiit

ment and campaign materials. The
videos produced for both recruitment
and fund raising won silver medals, as
did the fund-raising communications
program. The Alumnae Magazine
placed in the top ten College Magar-
ines for the second year, and picked up
a bronze medal for periodical resources
management. The College received
nine medals, in competition with col-
eges and universities of all sizes.

In this issue the Lifesrs'le section
features four alumnae who have been
recognized by the Alumnae
Association as outstanding examples
of liberal arts graduates. The second
part of a series on Agnes Scott's
trustees looks at the challenging role
they play, gi\'en the pressures facing
higher education today. Our board is
more involved than ever before, and
they are already working to assure that equallv dedicat-
ed trustees follow them.

In "State of the Arts," writer Michael Mason sur\'eys
the improvements underway in the College's arts pro-
grams, made possible by a grant from the Kresge
Foundation. To claim the $300,000 grant, however, the
College must raise another $836,232 by June 1, 1989.
Writer Jeannie Franco Hallem found that Professor
Alice Cunningham takes her work seriouslv. The
William Rand Kenan Professor of Chemistn' is a pre-
mier educator and leader among her colleagues. She
just c.m't let things alone it she can see wavs to im-
pro\e them.

Our centerfold brings you a photographic tour ot the
new campus lite .md physical activities facilities. We
hope ,ill of vou u ill \isit during the Centennial Year,
which begins m September, and tour our historic and
new places m person. Lvnn Donham

Editor: Lynn Dunham, Managing Editor: Sf.iccy Noilcs, Art Director: P MicIlkI Mcli.i, Editoriai Assistant: .Anszclic John

Editorial Advisory Board: Ayse Iltj:i: CarJcn '66, Susan Kctchin Ed^crton '70. K.ircn iVccn '86, Eli:abcth H.illman Snit:er '85, Mar\- K.

Owen birhoc '6S, Tish Y.ninL: MeCutchLH '7^. Bcckv Trophcr. PuJlov Sanders LiKia Howard Sircmoro '65,

Fh:.ihi.-th Stcwnson '41

l'opyn,L;iit U'88, A^ncs Scott C'ollcizc. PuIMi-IkiI tlircc times ,i year hv the (."itlice ot Pubhc.itions, .-Xgnes Scott College, Buttnck Hall.

C:ollei;e Avenue, tX'catur, t iA K^Ok"*, 404/ 171 -6 11^, The m,ii;,i:ine is puhlished tor .ilumnac and friends of the College.

Postmaster: Send address ehiinges to (."ittiee ot 1V\ elopiiient .ind Puhlic .Mt.urs. Agnes Scott College. Pecatur. C-\ Wx\

Like other content ot the m.ig.i:ine,
this :irticle reflects the opinion ot the writer

,ind not the \ leupoini ol
the College, its trustees, or .idministr.iiion.

TURNABOUT

CONTENTS

Thank you tor sendinj:; me the Spring
Agnes Scott Alumnae Magazine. If
you are eager to know how your
constituents feel about "Luring
Scholars into Science" (Page 1 1 ),
why don't you ask some of them who
have been lured? Bettina Bush
Jackson, Ph.D., in bacteriology and
biochemistry-.

BemnaB. Jackson 'I^X
Robbinsville, N.C.

As the current president of the
Christian Association, I am con-
cerned about the religious outlets of-
fered to all Agnes Scott students.
When I assumed office, one of my
main goals was to provide all mem-
bers of the Agnes Scott community
[with] a sense of belonging to CA. I
realize that in some cases I am fight-
ing an uphill battle because the
Christian Association as a whole has
not in the past attempted to include
those who do not match the conser-
vative, white stereotype.

In your last issue of the Alumnae
Magazine a black student was quoted
as saying, "There are many religiously
involved black women on campus.
When I looked at the list of churches
that the Christian Association was
ottering to take us to, they were all
white churches." She further remarks
that no change has taken place, even
though they weren't aware that they
had overlooked the black students in
this way.

I assure every black student on this
campus that 1, even though 1 may be
the only member of the Christian
Association who is, am keenly aware
of this injustice. In fact, while I serv-
ed as vice-president during my junior
year, I tried to change this. My warn-
ing apparently went unheeded. This
will not happen again, and 1 desire
that the black students at Agnes
Scott will join me to correct this
wrongdoing.

The call of Christianity is to love
one's neighbor, not to exclude her. I
apologize on behalf of the Christian
Association for this grave error.

Dolly Purvis '89
Decatur Ga.

Agnes Scott
Alumnae Magazine

AGNES

scon

Fall W88

Volume 66 Number 2

Page 8

State of
The Arts

New Life,
New Places

Page 16

The Navigators

The Heart
Of Things

Page 4
Lifestyles

Page 26
Calendar

A$l A million boost
will go a lung way
towards ensuring a
viable arts program
for Agnes Scott.

A more useful life for
the old gym and a get-
acquainted tour oj the
new.

Charting a sure
course for the
institution a
secorid look at the
College's trustees.

Alice Cimningham
expects the bestjron
herself, and the
people arui places
around her.

LIFESTYLES

Super fund-raiser
Gellerstedt takes on
ASC's big challenge

iinu a major Atlanta
volunteer organiza-
tion and chances are
that Mary Duckworth
Gellerstedt '46 has not only
heen a niemher, hut ser\ed as
chair as well. The recipient
ot the Centennial Award tor
Leadership to Agnes Scott
and the Community says,
"My first thought when I
learned ahout the award was
that everyone who knew me
as an Agnes Scott student
would think this was ahso-
lutely impossible."

Upon reflection, she
notes, "1 don't think there's
anyone who has appreciated
what Agnes Scott did tor
them more than I have, or is
more aware ot the confidence
Agnes Scott gave them to as-
sume a role in leadership."

The Gellerstedt family
principle is: "You have to pay
your ci\'ic rent."

Mary and Lawrence
Gellerstedt made their first
installment with United
Cerebral Palsy. Some friends
purchased a home that was
converted to a school fi n
cerebral palsy victims. Mrs.
Gellerstedt provided the only
relief for teachers by volun-
teering as a teacher's assis-
tant once a week. Their chil-
dren were measured as
stand-ins so that small desks
could be made for the pupils.

At Piedmont Hospital,
Mrs. Gellerstedt started \'ol-
unteering as a 'Pink Lady' at
the admissions desk. Soon
after, she was assistant trea-
surer tor the Auxiliary Board
ot Pirectors and then be-
came ,1 \ice president,
r.ilienl flower deli\ery tell
within her domain. One

Christmas Eve she recalls
worrying about getting pa-
tients their flowers. Her hus-
band told her, "No problem.
You and 1 will do It."

"This IS the way we've
worked together on every-
thing," she says. "We're a
team." Both received Vol-
unteer of the Year awards in

Her work with the hospit.il
culminated as president of
the Piedmont Hospital
Auxiliary. "It was .i wonder-
ful job," she says. "The hospi-
tal was well-organi:ed and
1 gained a deep feeling of
satisfaction from helping.
There is no greater satisfac-
tion in the world than help-
ing people who are in trouble
teel a lit lie more secure or a
lilllc more ,ible to face what

they must face.

"Lawrence and 1 ha\e
been fortunate to be in-
volved in a time ot rapid
growth in Atlanta," she al-
lov\s. Once apprehensive
about fund-raising, Mrs.
Gellerstedt has becinne quite
successful at it. She helped
raise $.360,000 for Piedmont
as this year's honorar\ chair
ot the Piedmont Ball.

Under her leadership as
fund chair for the Atlanta
Symphony Orchestr.i
As.sociates, the group r.iised
$1.25 million tor two consec-
utive years. She is onl\ the
second woman to serve as
president ot the s\niphonv's
bo.ird of directors. "1 lo\ e
music," she savs. "But I'm iiin
an educated musicun.
Practical peciple are needed

to take care of the symphony
orchestra, too."

As president, she was in
charge of a S12 million annu-
al budget, and under her
leadership, the symphony has
completed the last two years
in the black with a sur-
plus. "Not many symphony
orchestras can boast that,"
she says. This year the
Atlanta community raised
more than $1 million so that
the orchestra and chorus
could tour major music halls
in Europe this summer. The
Gellerstedts went with them
on the tour.

.After various terms in
Agnes Scott's alumnae asso-
ciation including one as
president Mrs. Gellerstedt
has accepted her greatest
challenge from the College.
She and her husband sen.-e as
co-chairs ot Agnes Scott's
$35 million Centennial
Campaign. "1 had been in-
volved with fund-raising
enough that 1 thought it
would be interesting to be
part of a big centennial cam-
paign that would be con-
ducted professionally," Mrs.
Gellerstedt explains.

"The centennial drive is
an opportunity' to renovate
the old and bring in the new,"
she continues. "We will be
able to do exciting things at
the College. The funds raised
will [keep] .Agnes Scott the
outstanding women's college
in the entire South."

The woman who has niade
a full-time career of \olun-
teerism savs. "I can't con-
cene of not giving cif yourself
to other people. You grow
each time you have a new
experience, and gain the .sat-
isfaction of watching some-
thing develop that vou have
been ,i part ot." Laurie K.
McBraver '83

LIFESTYLES

Ellen Smith's first mle
of low: Sometimes It's
ok to break ttie rules

hen Ellen \'irginia
Hines Smith '61
announced her
plans to go to law school, her
family was horrified. It was
1961, and girls just didn't go
to law school.

"My brother was a third-
year law student at the tmie,
and he stayed up all night
trying to talk me out of it,"
Ms. Smith recalls.

When that didn't work, he
laid down some basic rules
for her as the only girl in her
law school class: she would
not ask questions or volun-
teer information in class; she
would not speak to classmates
unless spoken to; and in all
situations she would keep in
her place.

"The first two weeks were
awful," Ms. Smith says. "I
went from being with all girls
to being with only men. I ate
alone for two weeks, and 1
had never eaten alone in my
life."

She and her male col-
leagues at the University ot
South Carolina School of
Law soon adjusted to each
other, and she happily settled
into being "one of the boys,
but not quite."

Since graduating second
in her class in 1964, Ellen
Smith has found herself re-
peatedly cast as "one of the
boys, but not quite." In 1970
she became a civil court
judge and Spartanburg
County's first female judge.
She soon moved to Spartan-
burg's civil and criminal
courts, first as an associate
judge, and then in 1973 as
chief judge.

She now serves as a
Spartanburg city council-

woman the first and is
executive director for Pied-
mont Legal Ser\'ices, Inc.

She. attributes much of her
success to the love and sup-
port ot her husband, L").
Lesesne Smith III, a real es-
tate broker, and her parents.

"Daddy didn't think much
ot women lawyers, but he
thought 1 was wondertul
no matter what I did. And
Mother was always excited
about everything 1 ever did,"
Ms. Smith says.

Although Ms. Smith is
ser\'ing her second term on
the city council, she does not
view her position as a step-
ping stone to higher political
oftice.

"I've turned down chances
to run tor the legislature," she
says. "1 don't want to go to
Columbia. I want to do just
what I'm doing."

Much of what she's doing
is in the area of poverty law,
which provides her both with

an intriguing intellectual
challenge and the opportuni-
ty to do good.

"It's a very complicated
subject," she explains. "More
than anyone else, poor peo-
ple are regulated by tederal
and state law; meanwhile you
have someone with a fifth-
grade education trying to fig-
ure it all out. It's a great op-
portunity to help people who
need help the most."

The pioneering attorney
has made tremendous impact
on indigent legal services in
South Carolina since she
started out in 1976 as the
only lawyer in Spartanburg's
legal aid office. Now called
Piedmont Legal Services, the
oftice has grown to twenty-
one employees and two bran-
ches that serve low-income
clients in seven counties.

But Ellen Smith's interests
go beyond poverty law. She
is chair emeritus, board of di-
rectors for the Ellen Virginia

Hines Smith Girls' Home; a
steering committee member
for the Central Business Dis-
trict Master Plan; board mem-
ber, Spartanburg Develop-
ment Corp., and president ot
the Spartanburg Symphony
Cuild.

In the past, Ms. Smith has
also led various other pro-
jects, from a little theatre
group to the Mayor's Task
Force on Crime and Juvenile
Delinquency. She was re-
cently named an Outstand-
ing Alumna tor Service to
the Community.

Hers is a hectic, but .satis-
fying life, she says. In 1984
she was diagnosed with lung
cancer. The doctors gave
her a five percent chance of
survival. Faced with death,
Ellen Hines Smith realized
that, "I was living where I
wanted, with the people I
wanted, doing what I wanted
to do. Isn't that what every-
one wants?"

After two years ot radia-
tion treatment and chemo-
therapy, her doctors say she is
cured. Recently she had her
last appointment with the
oncologist.

Although content, several
dreams still call to her. After
years ot competition, she has
yet to win a trophy at the
Coon Dog Day celebration in
Saluda, N.C., where the
Smiths own a lakefront
home. The prize requires
building elaborate floats, and
one particularly ambitious
year, Ms. Smith painted her-
self silver and dressed like the
Statue ot Liberty while bran-
dishing a replica of a coon
dog over her head. She lost.
Undaunted, she'll enter
again next year. Lisa
Crowe

Lisa Crinve is a freelance unter.

LIFESTYLES

A class ring whets
Westcott's appetite
for philanthiropy

pray cvx-ry day that 1 will
grow old gracefully," says
Lulu Smith Westcott. As
the 90-year-old begins an-
other of her hectic days, her
friends see no signs of slow-
ing down. Her weeks arc-
crowded with cluh meetings,
church activities and volun-
teer work in the north Geor-
gia town lit P.ihiin. Her
schedule has been this ttill
since her return to Dalton
after her graduation fn mi
Agnes Scott in 1919.

Good friend Fannie B.
Harris Jones '37, says that
after Lulu Smith arrived at
the College, "She wrote
home to the five or six girls
still in high schiiol [and]
considering Agnes Scott [to]
warn them, 'Take harder
courses, learn to study hard-
er, this is a hard place.' It
tlidn't discourage those girls,"
Mrs. Jones says. "They came
on and we've had another 30
Daltonians (including her-
self) that have come since."

Senior year Lulu Smith
was student government \ice
president, senior class vice
president, president of Rebe-
kah Scott Hall and a mem-
ber of HOASC, the Hono-
rary Organization/Order ot
Agnes Scott College pre-
decessor to Mortar Board.

Mrs. Westcott's financial
su|iport tor Agnes Scott be-
gan early. To contribute tit
I Ik- endowment fund her se-
nior year, she gave up her
school ring, yearbook, and
spring break to don.ite the
money she saved. The spring
break part was especially dil-
ticult as she had her soon-to-
be-husband, CaHirge Lam, 11
Westcoll, w.iitinu at home.

"After tour wonderful
years, I received my AB at
n( H )n and two hours later in
tiie same chapel I was mar-
ried," she says. The faculty
sat in their full regalia while
Dr. Frank Gaines, Agnes
Scott's first president, ,ind
her hometown minister both
presided. "They must have
done a good job," Mrs.
Westcott concludes, "we had
62-1/2 happy years together."
Her classmates i.lecoratei.1

one's living in the communi-
ty, they owe the community
a debt, and we both got in-
volved."

George Westcott, an in-
dustrialist, banker, philan-
thropist and civic leader,
serxed as trustee for several
colleges, including Agnes
Scott.

Mrs. Westcott helped start
the first library' in Dalton 's
Whitfield County. She read-
ily dismisses her extensive or

rv.W

the chapel with Porothv
Perkins roses, which then
bloomed on campus, aiul
every year thereafter Lulu
Westcott has receix'Cil
Dorothy Perkins roses on her
double anniversary.

After her impressi\'e be-
ginnings in philanthropy in
college, Mrs. Westcott turned
her sights to D.ilton. "She is
our shining ligiit," Mrs. Jones
says of her trieiid. "In LMt,
when I lie newsp.ipcr slarted
recogni:ing the cili:en ol the
year, she was ibe In si person
lhe\' named." .As Mrs.
Wesieoll expl.iins, "Mv hus-
b.ind .ind 1 jsiionglv be-
lie\ed| thai it one m.ikes

g.iniring and tun^l-raising ef-
forts tor the local library. "We
just needed a librarv' and a
bookmobile," she says. Her
work with the Whitfield
CAiiinty Library became a
model tor the rest of the
state. In 1945, she helped to
successfully integrate the
D.ilton Public Librar\'.

Not shv about fund-rais-
ing, Mrs. Westcott reveals a
siireiire method. She first got
iier hush.md to \ olunteer an
.iiiiouni ,ind then used that
.imounl as leverage when .ip
pid.ichmg others. A loe.il
once noietl: "Lulu, when 1
see \ou coming mv w.iv, mv
h.ind .uilom.iiic.illv reaches

for my wallet." She finds her
practiced appeal in asking for
donations usually works. "If
a thousand dollars is too
much," she tells potential
givers, "put yourself in a more
comfortable bracket but
not too comfortable."

She has always enjoyed
student recruitment. "Lulu
doesn't go to a mall to sheip
we have a nice mall in
Dalton," Mrs. Jones explains.
"But the only time she goes
out there is when they send
college representatives up for
college fairs and she can help
with recruitment. She just
recently wrote a letter about
a student for next fall."

".And she's coming, too,"
Mrs. Westcott retorts.

Lulu Westcott considers
her greatest gift to the
College not her financial
support, but lending her hus-
band's services tor 34 vears
as a trustee. "Whenever
thev made him a trustee or a
chaimian of a committee
thev got twcT for the price of
line," says Mrs. Jones. "She
was right with him, both in
financial support and contin-
ued interest."

Mrs. Westcott's life has
been full arid she concedes
that It helped to be married
"to a wofiderful man who
supported me in ever\thing I
undertook as I supported
him."

.After his death in 1^82.
Mrs. ^X'estcott continued
their philanthropic projects.
"There's iio telling how manv
voting people the Westcotts
have helped .send to college.
Mrs. Jones relates. "Thev
w ere just an outstanding cou-
ple ,ind the fact that she ear-
ned on widowed at eighrv-
tive and is still going strong is
prettv remarkable." Kav
Parkerson O'Briant '70\\'

LIFESTYLES

F

Outstanding career
brings Rebecca
Fewell accolades

or nine years, L^r,
Rebecca Fewell '58 has
done groundbreaking
work with special-needs chil-
dren at the University of
Washington in Seattle (see
Agnes Scott Maga:^ne, Spring
1987). In September she will
move to New Orleans'
Tulane University to become
the Karen Gore Professor ot
Special Education. It is the
nation's only endowed chair
in this field.

For her impressive work ui
special education, the Alum-
nae Association named Dr.
Fewell an Outstanding
Alumna for Distinguished
Career. Sibley Robertson
Veal '6 IX spoke at the
April annual meeting
about Dr. Fewell and her
accomplishments.

First and foremost, Rebecca
Fewell is a teacher. Starting
her career as a teacher ot nor-
mally developing children,
.she went on to teach deaf-
blind children and in 1972
completed her Ph.D. at
George Peabody College in
Nashville, Tenn.

She joined the PeaKidy
faculty and began teaching
graduate studies. For
Rebecca Fewell, each new
student represents a chal-
lenge an opportunity to
identify the student's
strengths and needs, to help
the student move beyond his
or her current understanding
of the educational and devel-
opmental problems of chil-
dren, and to try new ideas.
The enthusiasm and dedica
tion she generates about
working with handicapped

children and their tamilies
has challenged hundreds ot
graduate students to expand
their own horizons and to
share with others the excite-
ment of learning that Dr.
Fewell has shared with them.

University professors have
many other responsibilities
besides teaching, and Dr.
Fewell has an impressive list
ot contributions to the uni-
\ersity and to her field. She
has published over a hundred
articles and book chapters,
three books, and two tests tor
children. She edits a major
journal in her field and is on
the editorial board ot five
other journals.

Perhaps her most distinc-
tive contribution to the field
of special education has been
in grant monies. At the
University of Washington,
Dr. Fewell received over tour
million dollars in grants to
support teacher preparation
programs and student schol-
arship; to develop computer
priigrams to serve children
and families in rural and iso-
lated areas; to provide tech-
nical assistance to early-in-
tervention programs; to study
the experience ot fathers, sib-
lings, and grandparents ot
handicapped children; to de-
velop education programs for
high-risk infants and abused
children; and to pursue her
long-term special interest in
the life and devekipment ot
the deat-blind children she
tirst served.

Despite the extensive ad-
ministrative responsibilities
other job, Dr. Fewell has
made time to speak at conter
ences and consult with pro-
grams throughout the world,
traveling over 250,000 miles
each year.

We have dutifully catalogued
Rebecca's accomplishments,
but there is one achievement
that does not appear on her
vita.

I was a freshman here in
1957, languishing on the sec-
ond floor of Rebekah Scott
Hall. Rebecca Fewell was a
senior then. As some of you
may recall, in those days
before the earth cooled
freshmen could date during
fall quarter only it they dou
bled with an upper classwo-

man. 1 had known Rebecca
Fewell tor years and she mer-
cifully rescued me from my
dateless misery. She set me
up with a blind date. Less
than two years later, I mar-
ried him, and it was a very
happy union.

So our honoree is a proven
educator and matchmaker.
We congratulate her on her
distinguished career and
on her challenging new
appointment. Sibley Veal
'61X

V I S U A I, ARTS

New technology
has created a number ot

oppcirtunities that

tine-arts professors would

like to explore.

Computer-generated art created h\
Cose^i Adams on the Aurora graphics system.

STATE

ARTS

There was a time when summer set-
tled over Agnes Scott College like a
clear fog, numbing but comforting
and quiet. Not this year.

On bright, hot afternoons, Presser
Hall is being noisily disemboweled.
Dodging plaster chips and one an-
other's epithets, construction work-
ers scurry back and forth through the
building's huge double doors on
South McDonough Street, carting in
tools and carting out debris. Mam-
moth boxes of fixtures, insulation,
and wiring lie stacked about the cor-
ridors like presents from under a
Titan's Christmas tree.

In Gaines Auditorium, a radio
chirps the latest Top 40, somehow in-
congruous in a room that has heard

BY MICHAEL MASON

some of the nation's finest classical
performers. In the hallway outside,
oddly choreographed footprints pat-
tern the thick layer ot dust on the
floor.

Even as hammers and saws trans-
form Presser (as they will the Dana
Fine Arts Building), the College's
less noisy, but equally effective fund-
raising work shifts into high gear.
Both augur changes that go far deeper
than new flooring and better insu-
lation: they restore the heart of the
College's curricula.

Since its start in 1987, Agnes
Scott's Centennial Campaign,
chaired by Larry and Mary
Gellerstedt '46, has raised $31.5 mil-
lion of its $35 million goal. A recent

prize: a $300,000 grant from the
Kresge Eoundation, a "brick and
mortar" gift targeted for improve-
ments to the College's fine-arts
facilities. In order to claim the grant,
Agnes Scott must raise $836,232 by
June 1, 1989.

In all, the College plans to spend
nearly $ 1 .4 million on improvements
to its fine-arts departments a
startling reaffirmation of traditional
values in an era in which the liberal
arts have been given the cold shoul-
der by students more occupied with
the bottom line than the broadened
mind.

A recent study by the Carnegie
Foundatu>n found that increasing

Continued

M U S u; / T H E A T R t

Professors are
eyeing a system of simultaneous piano instruction.

numbers ot students are targeting
fields less enlightening than prcitit-
able: business, engineering, computer
science, health care. The foundation
estimates that the average starting
salary tor an engineering graduate is
about $30,000, while starting salaries
for liberal arts grads average only
$21,000. With most baccalaureate
degrees costing about $40,000 these
days, students view starting salaries
seriously, often eyeing large repay-
ments on loans that financed their
education.

Until recently, women's colleges
had been especially hard hit by the
turn away from liberal arts. In the
late sixties and seventies, nearly two-
thirds of the nation's 298 women's
colleges either closed or went coed.
According to the Wiimen's College
Coalition in New York, fewer than

100 survi\-ed mtact but today
they are beginning to reap the fruits
of persistence. By all accounts,
both the liberal arts education and
women's colleges are climbing back
mto vogue.

A WCC survey conducted last fall
showed a 6.6 percent increase in
enrollment at the nation's women's
colleges. According to Time Maga-
zine, a 1985 poll found that gradu-
ates ot women's colleges outper-
formed the female graduates of coed
institutions. Nearly half of the tomier
went on to obtain graduate degrees,
while only a third of coeds did so.
Wage scales also favored women's
college grads, and they luitnumbered
coed alumnae by more than 1 to 1 m
Who's Who In America .i sta-
tistic that has held true for nearly 50
years.

Furthermore, a number of top-level
businesses have decried the short-
sightedness of a technical degree.
Time Inc.'s own chief executive
officer, Richard Munro, recently told
a group of career counselors that in
hiring, "I would personally opt for
the liberal arts graduate every time.
Almost all of the CEOs I know are
liberal arts graduates. We still think
that liberal arts institutions are put-
ting out the best product."

All of which is a roundabout way
of saying that in terms of future via-
bility, the refurbishment of Agnes
Scott's fine-arts departments es-
sential to a liberal-arts education
anticipates an already visible return
to traditional educational values
values Agnes Scott never set aside.
The improvements are not just de-
sirable, but absolutely necessary' if
the College is to deliver the sort oi
education that students will need in
the future.

"These days prospective students
quite frequently express an interest
in fine-arts curricula," says Dean of
the College Ellen Hall. "Reading
through the admissions folders, I'm
seeing a great deal of arts experience.
We have to be in a position to offer
women that choice."

Soon Agnes Scott will be provid-
ing choices undreamt of by alumnae
past. Proposed improvements to the
college's fine-arts programs mu-
sic, theatre, dance, and \isual arts
range far and wide, and what once
was wishful thinking is fast becoming
a campus reality.

Proposed improvements break
down roughly into three categories:
physical renovations, new equip-
ment, and personnel.

Tlie first of these nears comple-
tion already, due in large part to the
extraordinary- efforts ot the develop-
ment office and the generosity- of
alumnae. Dana and Presser were in
sore need ot repair. Music Depart-
ment Chair and .Associate Professor
ot Music Ted Mathews, for instance,
ruefully recalls the time a leaking

roof damaged a concert grand piano.

No more. At a projected cost of
$320,000, Presser this summer re-
ceived not just a new roof, hut new
flooring, rest rooms, windows, paint,
doors, mirrors, wall paneling, chalk-
hoards, seats - even new locks on
the doors. Gaines Auditorium hene-
fits in particular with a hardwood
orchestra pit, improved lighting sys-
tems, and an expanded sound
system.

"The concert hall has been acous-
tically still, not a great place to play
or listen [m]," Dr. Mathews explains.
"But this is becommg a flexible,
decent faciliry."

"Stage lighting will he vastly im-
proved," adds Vice President for
Business and Finance Gerald O.
Whittington, "and able to handle
the most complex productions that
the College will likely have."

The pitch of the balcony will im-
prove as well. The previously awk-
ward tilt made viewing from some
seats virtually impossible, Mr.
Whittington says.

The 2 5 -year-old Dana Fine Arts
Building will gleam with new carpet,
paint, roofing, theatre seating, and
refurbished studios and galleries. To-
tal projected cost: $500,000. By
themselves, the electrical systems
needed to support new equipment
will run about $150,000. The system
will be energy and cost efficient.

In the Alston Campus Center, the
dance studio has new floors, wall-to-
wall mirrors, and huge windows. It is,
says dance instructor Marylin
Darling, "quite lovely."

With most physical improvements
firmly on track, the College has
turned its attention to dated and
damaged equipment. Until recently,
for instance, many of the College's
older pianos had "fallen into a dra-
matic state of decay," as Dr. Mathews
puts it.

The Centennial Campaign has
changed that. Mathews' department
now boasts a new Steinway grand
piano and a smaller practice piano,

The dance
studio has new floors, mirrors and huge windows.

which together cost about $25,000.
Next year the music department
plans to purchase seven more prac-
tice pianos for another $25,000
and professors have their collec-
tive eye on a piano class system by
which groups of students could be
given simultaneous instruction . The
system involves a "master" piano
hooked to several "slave" instru-
ments. Such a set-up costs as much
as $15,000.

Like kids at Christmas, music
professors (and those of other fine-
arts departments, as well) talk ex-
citedly of other items they hope to
have in hand before too long: hand-
bells ($4,500), a double harpsichord
($13,000, built by renowned Boston
craftswoman Lynette Tsiang), and a
variety of orchestral instruments
percussion (especially a tympani), a

xylophone, gongs, and chimes all
totaling $6,600.

"Currently we borrow, 'steal', or
rent these," smiles Dr. Mathews.
"Sometimes we coerce our friends
into loaning them."

Technology beckons in spite of
the expense. One of the greatest
needs: compact disc players. The
department has two, and almost no
CDs.

"We really need to get away from
vinyl," says Dr. Mathews. "Listening
to some of the records we have is not
an enriching experience. But a lot of
it is basic repertoire, so we have to
play them for students. It's just that
it's abused material."

Compact disc players are finding

greater acceptance in most colleges

(as they are in homes) because the

Continued

I.: L' L r T l; k e

Four sculptures
are commissioned tor the Arts Synergy festival.

disc mcdRini ne\'cr wears out ani.1
provides better sound reproduction.
The player reads musical information
encoded on a plastic "record" by
means of a small light beam. This
entails no friction, and so CDs
theoretically last forever if cared for
properly.

According to Mathews, not all of
the department's basic teaching re-
pertoire is available on CD, bur most
of the gaps should be filled in o\er
the next few years as manufacturers
catch up with popular demand.

New technology, in fact, has cre-
ated a number oi teaching oppor-
tunities that the college's fine-arts
professors would like to explore
together with a proposed Arts
Technology Center.

"We're trying to keep up with the
'80s and meet the needs of .students

m the '90s," says Associate Professor
of Art Terry McGchee, chair of the
college's visual arts department.
"We're getting students who have
had experience with computer gra-
phics, for instance, in high school,
and we need to be able to integrate
that into our current curriculum."

As currently configured, the cen-
ter would house a darkroom, en-
larged slide room, music recording
and audio lab, a theatrical lighting
lab, a film production and editing
facility, and a computer graphics Lib.
The price tag: $ 1 7 1 ,000. 0\ that,
nearly $60,000 is slated for the film
facility alone.

It's expensi\'e, but necessary.
Technology has become an mtcgr.il
part of modern education, e\eii in
the title arts. Professor McGehee's
department, for instance, needs the

computers to teach graphic design;
many businesses have turned away
from hand design. The same com-
puters can be used by theatre stu-
dents for set design and by dance stu-
dents for choreography.

And the darkroom is long over-
due. "We've never had space large
enough to teach classes in darkroom
development," Professor McGehee
notes, "although students ha\e been
asking for it for years."

Equally exhaustive are additions
to the theatre program. In addition
to physical improvements to Dana's
Winter Theater reconditioned
seats, new carpeting and curtains, and
$60,000 worth of improved lighting
the proposed Arts Technology'
Center will permit students to test
plots they've drawn on paper before
actually hanging lights. And at a cost
of $17,650, the costume shop will
add a washer and dr\'er, sewing
machines, steam irons, cutting
tables, and ironing boards. Depart-
ment Chair and Assistant Professor
of Theatre Becky Prophet even is
contemplating an infrared sound
system for the hearing impaired for
Winter Theater.

As a result of their access to mod-
em technology, says Dr. Prophet, "stu-
dents will be able to major in theatre
but concentrate more effecti\elv in
certain areas acting and direct-
ing, design and technical work, or
theatre histor\'." (Tlie film lab will
fall under the jurisdiction of the
theatre department.)

But the best equipment avails
students naught without instruction
to match. .Agnes Scott's academic
plan calls for expanded arts per-
.sonnel a gallen,' director, a cos-
tume designer, a choreographer and
\arious music specialists are one
priority. Such personnel will free
professors to concentrate on teach-
ing and to pursue long-tenri edu-
cational goals.

Perhaps most important of all: the
Centeniiial Campaign has enabled
Agnes Scott to embark on a visitiiis;

. anist program that will touch all of
the school's arts disciplines. "It's nec-
essary to the growth of students to
have someone who doesn't just come
in, dance or whatever, and leave the
next day," says Calvert Johnson,
associate professor of music. "We're
going to have people in residency
either for a semester or a chunk of a
semester."

Of course, artists have visited the
Agnes Scott campus frequently in
theatre and dance productions. Tom
Pazik, artistic director of the Atlanta
Ballet, has worked on campus with
ASC's Studio Dance Theatre, for
instance. In the future, Marylin
Darling hopes to attract the likes of
Peggy Lyman, former lead dancer for
Martha Graham, and Clay
Taliaferro, the former lead dancer
Jose Limon's company. She feels they
are needed in part to broaden the
company's scope. "Adding to our
repertoire," says Professor Darling,
"is necessary to establish credibility."

Some $50,000 per year for the
next three is the goal for the visit-
ing-artists program if the money is
raised during the Campaign. The
first year will kick off next spring
with an interdisciplinary festival
titled Arts Synergy. A celebration of
Agnes Scott's centennial, this week-
long arts festival will showcase the
swift changes occuring in the Col-
lege's fine-arts community.

The festival's lynchpin will be
composer Thea Musgrave, from
whom the College has commis-
sioned a musical piece about women
and their changing societal roles,
called "Echoes Through Time." Due
for completion in November, the
piece will premiere in a performance
conducted by the composer, who
will be teaching on campus next
spring.

So, too, will director Linda
Brovsky, who will stage Ms.
Musgrave's composition. Composer
Christa Cooper will be writing an
accompanying libretto, and the
visual-arts department has plans to

PHOTOGRAPHY & VIDEO

Existing darkrooms

will be enlarged to allow for instruction.

commission a series of sculptures on
the "Echoes Through Time" theme.
The theatre department will contri-
bute staging and area designers to
the performance.

Renovations, equipment, and new
personnel are all expensive, and it's
easy to see why the Centennial
Campaign's $1.4 million goal has
come to mean so much to the fine-
arts departments at Agnes Scott. Or,
as Professor Becky Prophet puts it:
"[We possess much] joy and ting-
ling spines with the hope of the
future for the arts here, with the
empowerment of these programs."

"The arts professors have become
very involved in seeking out funds
for arts projects," says Dean Hall.
"You have to remember that the
climate in higher education is en-
tirely different these days. There's

much more room for their partici-
pation than before."

And so it's not uncommon these
days to find Professors Prophet or
McGehee or Johnson meeting with
foundations, donors and alumnae
groups, enthusiastically spreading a
vision of the College as a "focal
point," as Cal Johnson puts it, for
regional arts endeavors.

"The arts traditionally have been
a commentary on society and what
happens in society," explains Dean
Hall. "They train us in non-verbal
communication of those issues.
By and large, that way of thinking
has a lot to do with how people
live their lives."

Michael Mason is a free-lance writer
livmg in Atlanta. He has written for
Time arvi Fortune.

N E
LLi :

It stood as a cornerstone on the southeast
quadrant of the quadrangle first a
library, tlien a gathering place for stu-
dents. The first campus mixer was held
there. Students were allowed to puff in
its room, before they could smoke in
their owii When its given name the
Murphe; Candler Building became
too ponikicius to utter, it became simply,
"The Hill "

Ah, i, I lie walls could talk and tell of
the many happy memories made there.
But as 11.: - passed, age and decay took
their tol' I lid the walls of the Hub ached
and groaiitd to reveal their own secrets
of hcnv costly it would be to renovate
and how Jangerous it would be to keep it
in use. /' id so, the Hub was leveled and
a new student center created. But all that
is new I; nut all new ... the old Bucher
Scott gym and the Walters Infirmary
became rhe new Wallace M. Alston
Campus Center.

"te

N E W

PLACEa

"Since [the old gymnasium] was built,
methods of teaching physical education
have changed, and the attangements are
out of date. This swimming pool is a
joke among the girls, and we are
ashamed to take visitors to see the build-
ing." President Ruth Schmidt might
have said this, but she didn't. Dr. James
Ross McCain, Agnes Scott's second
president, penned these words in the
early '20s to urge College trustees to
build the Bucher Scott Gymnasium.

History does repeat itself. The College
later found itself in a similar predica-
ment and broke ground on the Robert
W. Woodruff Physical Activities Build-
ing, which was dedicated this spring. It
features up-to-date facilities such as a
regulation-size basketball court and an
eight-lane, 25-meter pool. Programs for
stress reduction and wellness two
decidedly 20th-century concepts will
also find a home there.

^ ^'''^j^i^^^^ywjz

THE

NAVIGATORS

Years ago, those honored to be trust-
ees might have planned on giving a
generous donation and three or four
afternoon board meetings a year. The
"real" decisions were probably made
by executive committees of three or
four members.

Today institutions such as Agnes
Scott are calling on their trustees for
unprecedented leadership and sup-
port, as well as expert judgment.
Their increased responsibilities
and involvements mean more
personal liability for trustees, a fact
reflected by soaring insurance rates
nationwide.

, In return, trustees reap no recom-
pense and little recognition, merely
the personal satisfaction of guiding
worthwhile institutions. To be most
effective, a board must not only
chart the course for an institution,
but navigate the foggy channel be-
tween their rightful role of policy-
making and the administration's day-
to-day management.

Even more difficult, some trustees
come to the board without great
knowledge of Agnes Scott. Even al-
umnae board members quickly rea-
lize that their role demands a
markedly different perspective than
life as a student twenty years ago.

"When I first came on the board,
it operated more like a corporate
board of directors," observes Vice
Chair Susan M. Phillips '67 (see
sidebar). "It was not as involved in
taking on projects. But 1 think there
has been a concerted effort on the
part of President Schmidt and [Board
Chair] Larry Gellerstedt to increase
involvement particularly alumnae
involvement on the board."

"We've moved to a participatory
model," agrees Ruth Schmidt. "In
general, board members are giving
more time, feeling more responsible,
and recognizing that [board mem-
bership] extracts a heavier responsi-
bility in this day and age."

"Effective boards are involved
with the institution, informed about
its affairs, and have a . . . sense of
purpose that transcends trustees' in-
dividual viewpoints," writes Barbara

Communication

is a continuing issue for

hoards such as Agnes

Scott's with 32 members

meeting three times

each year.

E. Taylor, director of the Institute for
Trustee Leadership at the Asso-
ciation of Governing Boards of
Universities and Colleges. The AGB
teaches trustees and administrations
how to work effectively together.
The association provides a quarterly
magazine, orientation brochures and
reams of other publications, and con-
ducts workshops to teach trustees
how to meet the leadership needs of
their institutions.

Like the balance of power on
which the United States was founded,
the board's relationship with the ad-
ministration and the faculty relies on
constant creative tension. Board

By Sheryl Roehl and Lynn Donham

members must learn enough about
the institution to make significant
decisions about its future, while
realizing that curriculum is the realm
of the faculty, and daily operations
belong to the administration.

Since appointing Ruth Schmidt in
1982 as Agnes Scott's fifth president,
the board and the president have
worked to forge a strong partnership.
One who has witnessed then and
now is Trustee Lamar Oglesby, vice
president of Kidder, Peabody and
Company, an Atlanta investment
and securities firm.

"When [the president] first came
to the College, she was operating in
a different environment with a
whole new set of rules down here in
magnolia land," Mr Oglesby says
wryly. After the initial period of
adjustment common to new admin-
istrations, he now thinks the ma-
chine is well-oiled and humming.
"The board and the president have a
very strong working relationship, and
we're heading in the same direction."

One example of that partnership
is the President's Advisory Com-
mittee, a fout-memher group that
meets monthly. As a small group,
trustees Betty Scott Noble, Anne
Jones, Horace Sibley and Franklin
Skinner provide a sounding board to
the ptesident on policy matters.
"This is a small group that 1 can look
to for advice and regular feedback on
matters that may not be ready to
bring before the full board," she says.
Adds Ms. Noble, the granddaughter
of founder Col. George Washington
Scott, "It's a good tool for commu-
nication. It's a small group so we can
have good, open communication."

The new wayfarers :

keeping abreast of the times, trustees now use

more hands-on involvement in charting the future for

their institutions. The second of a two-part

look at ASC's hoard.

TTie quantity and clarity of com-
munication is a continuing issue for
a hoard such as Agnes Scott's, which
has 32 memhers meeting three times
a year. With some memhers living
outside of Atlanta, it's apparent why
in the past, "The executive com-
mittee did virtually everything, and
the hoard ruhher-stamped its deci-
sions," says President Schmidt.
"We're now moving in a direction
where the full hoard meetings are
where the real action is."

Now discussion and recom-
mendations come not only from the
ten-memher executive committee,
which is headed hy Mr. Gellerstedt,
hut from the hoard's standing com-
mittees as well. Each trustee serves
on at least one committee.

"I feel good ahout the level at
which we've gotten the commit-
tees to function," says the presi-
dent. "We have active commit-
tees that are doing good work,
becoming experts in their areas,
and taking greater responsibil-
ity. In turn, their work feeds
hack into the full hoard, so it
doesn't have to have in-depth
discussion on every issue."

For example, the Academic
Affairs Committee, which oversees
the College's educational program
and is chaired hy Samuel Spencer,
was the first place the board con-
sidered the faculty's recommendation
to move the large Beck telescope to a
dark site at Hard Labor Creek State
Park. Georgia State University and
Agnes Scott together will operate an
observatory there.

After considering the factors
diminishing visibility in Decatur,
cost, continued use ot the College's
Bradley Observatory, and sentiment
for keeping the telescope here the
committee recommended the move.
The board concurred.

Although the committees may
pare down the full board's policy de-
bates, actual power rests only with
the full body. Unlike corporate
boards, where directors sometimes

hold power in relation to proxies or
stock, trustees have no power as in-
dividuals. Only full board or execu-
tive committee decisions count.

It was up to the trustees to make
the final decision on the College's
goals for the Centennial Campaign.
They targeted massive building ren-
ovation and revitalized academic
programs. These were based on rec-
ommendations from faculty, alum-
nae and administrators. The faculty
shaped a board-backed, seven-point
academic plan to strengthen the
College during the next decades.

Trustee Martha Kessler '69 expressed
pride in the faculty's program
development. "This is a big step tor
the faculty. Because they were a part
of the process, they're more aware of
accountability of the money it takes
for these programs." They also began
to realize that even $17.9 million
can't make ever^'one's dreams come
true: there are always choices to be
made. "We in educa-tion no longer
have the time and the money to sit
in our ivory towers and meander
aimlessly. We need to me-ander with
vision. It takes money to make our
dreams come true," says Ms. Kessler.
Because of a change in the board's
bylaws a few years hack, trustees will

no longer be eligible for re-election
for a third term until at least a year
has passed.

Tenures begun after the change
are the first to be affected by the
regulation. "Five years from now,
when the first group will be rotating
off the board, we will have more
openings" than perhaps in the
College's history", says the president.
"From now until then, [the nom-
inating] committee will have the
important responsibility of cul-
tivating and identihmg potential
new trustees. One of the chief
objectives m the next few years will
be to develop an ongoing arrange-
ment for a strong board."

Selecting leadership raises new
issues. Should the hoard have more
Atlantans and meet more often? Is
it important to keep geographic
diversity-? What qualities will
identih' someone as a potential
trustee?

Together, the board, the
administration and the faculty'
are moving Agnes Scott toward
, .. an even stronger next hundred
^!l years. A revitalized physical
S^y plant, good working relationships
among its constituencies, and the
boost of a successful Centennial
Campaign should mean smoother
sailing through the next decades.

"The facilities are capable of
comfortably accommodating 650 to
700 students," says Trustee Harriet
King '64. College officials hope that
the renovations and renewal of the
last six years will bring greater
numbers of bright young women to
Agnes Scott.

Adds Ms. King, "When there's
motivation and a shared vision,
excitement breeds excitement."

Shc'TA'l Roehl is an editor at
Ma)ui,jL'mt'nt SciL'ncL' Ainenca, a

'"buhilc StTt'7\;Th" in xkc hsi issK*.'.
Lvnn Doniumi i.s^ tki CofJtge's director
o\ pxtblkamiM anA edirnr o\ t/us
nuiga^'ne.

PHILLIPS' FUTURE IS A COMMODITY CALLED AGNES SCOTT

When Susan M. Phillips '67 re-
ceived a call in 1981 from the
White House personnel office
asking her to interview for a seat on
the Commodity Futures Trading
Commission (CFTC), she reacted
like most anyone else she was
thrilled.

"Bar anybody, when you get a call
from the White House, it makes a
difference," says Ms. Phillips, cur-
rently vice chair of the hoard of
trustees.

Nominated for the position by
President Reagan and appointed by
the U.S. Senate, she served eighteen
months on the five-member com-
mission. Reagan named her chair
in 1983.

After six years, she resigned from
the commission and returned to the
academic world. More than a year
ago, she accepted the position of
vice president of finance for the Uni-
versity of Iowa.

"I do believe that there should be
turnover periodically in appointed
positions," she says, explaining why
she made the job change. "1 had
been at the CFTC a while and [had]
done what 1 could. I didn't want to
wait much longer; otherwise, I
would feel like 1 should stay during
the remainder of the Reagan Ad-
ministration. I felt that stepping
down when I did would give who-
ever was appointed [chair] a chance
to come in and do something."

As CFTC chair, Phillips oversaw
regulation of financial and com-
modity futures trading at the na-
tion's eleven major commodity
exchanges. The independent fed-
eral regulatory agency helps prevent
price manipulation and determines
whether trading activity creates
artificial commodities prices and
price volatility.

As an undergraduate mathe-
matics major in the mid-'60s, Ms.

Phillips planned to be a high school
teacher, but her student teaching
experience, fraught with discipline
problems and a first-hand view of
red-tape, persuaded her otherwise.
After working as a research assistant
for the John Hancock Mutual Life
Insurance Co. in Boston, she
pursued her master's degree at
Louisiana State University. "But I
decided that I hadn't used much of
my theoretical math so I decided to
take some finance courses. You
could say 1 literally stumbled into
the business world."

In 1973 she received her doctor-
ate from Louisiana State University
for a dissertation on "The Porta-
bility Concept: Development,
Growth and Future Direction."
Five years later, she testified before
Congress, where she argued against
a private pension portability
proposal that allowed employees to
take pension plans with them when
changing jobs.

In 1973, she became an assistant
professor of finance at Louisiana
State. The following year she took
a similar position at the University
of Iowa. At the Brookings Institute
in Washington, D.C., she was an
economic policy fellow and later
served as directorate of economic
and policy research for the Securi-
ties and Exchange Commission
from 1976 to 1978.

In 1981, she saw the publication
of her book, "The SEC and the
Public Interest," which analyzed the
benefits and indirect costs of SEC
regulatory programs. In addition,
she has a long list of published writ-
ings to her credit, including articles
on the CFTC's view of financial
futures, pension regulations, and a
comparison of options and futures
in portfolio risk management.

Before accepting the seat on the
commission, she served as associate

vice president of finance and uni-
versity services for the University of
Iowa for nearly three years. Now
back at the university, she wrestles
with an annual budget of more than
$400 million.

"1 like being in a Midwestern en-
vironment," says Ms. Phillips, who
was bom in Richmond, Va., and
grew up near Fort Walton Beach,
Fla. "It's a good university and a
nice town. The people are straight-
forward and relaxed. It's not a big
hassle to get around or commute,
like in a bigger town. It's a small
town but it has the cultural ad-
vantages of a big city because of the
university."

Her membership on the Agnes
Scott hoard of trustees dates to 198 3.
Although she says she is honored to
be only the second woman to be
vice chair of the body, Ms. Phillips
is quick to add that she isn't likely
to attain the distinction of the first
woman to serve as the board's chair.

"I'm pleased to be vice chair, and
I've certainly enjoyed working with
the board. We've made a lot of
positive strides," she says, noting
that her recent job change and
move from northwest Washington
to Iowa has made more frequent
trips to the College difficult. "But
It's important that the chair be
based in Atlanta, though I think it's
fine if the vice chair lives outside of
Atlanta."

As for her outside interests, Ms.
Phillips is proud to say she is a re-
gular spectator at the Hawkeye's
women's and men's football and
basketball games.

Her sixty- to seventy-hour work
weeks leave little leisure time. "My
jobs have chewed up a good bit of
my lite," Ms. Phillips says. "But I
enjoy my work. 1 don't resent the
time I've devoted to my career."

SAR

THE
HEART

OF
THINGS

one side of Alice Cunningham is the
homebody who enjoys watching public
television, playing with her 2-year-old
nephew, and fishing at Lake Burton,
the other side is an academician, whose
analytical mind is planning, organizing
and launching projects. Her home
environment reflects her ability to get
to the heart of things. It's durable and
solid, like her.

I E AN IE f R A Nl O 11 AELEM

Walk intd Alice Cunningham's
ranch-style, brick home in Decatur
and you'll discover a chemistry pro-
fessor's love of earth tones and tex-
tures. A paneled den is punctuated
by sturdy recliners and easy chairs
upholstered in gold and brown cor-
duroy. On one wall hangs a seascape
by Atlanta artist Tom Cato. "See
how it changes as the sun gets higher
in the sky?" she asks, smiling with
pride. As the late-morning sun enters
the room, the grays of the painting
take on a golden patina.

A frame containing three triangles
ot color dominates another wall. On
each canvas are elongated geometric
shapes in oranges and golds. "It's the
artist's representation of molecular
structure," explains Dr. Cunningham,
who heads Agnes Scott's chemistry
department. The artist is Leland
Staven, associate professor of art at
Agnes Scott

She wears little make-up, just lip-
stick. Stretched out on the tweed
couch, she's dressed in navy warm-up
pants and a blue-and-white sweat-
shirt emblazoned "Emory Invita-
tional High School." Away from
academia, she's clearly relaxed.
"This shirt's from my judging days,"
she explains, referring to her stint as
a judge for Emory University's an-
nual high school swim meets.

A cap ot salt-and-pepper hair
frames her round face, accentuating
thin lips and blue-blue eyes that light
up whenever she gets excited
which is often. "I'm a very emotion-
al person," she says. "People would
be surprised to know 1 cry ver\-
easily."

Few are surj^riscd to know that
Alice Cunningham makes things
happen. As chemistry department
chair, she wasn't .satisfied with Agnes
Scott's outdated lab equipment, so
she wrote time-consuming grant pro-
posals requesting funding. Her pay-
off: chemistry labs equipped with
state-of-the-art technology.

When she found chemistry stu-
dents entering college with no lab

experience. Dr. Cunningham took a
look at their high school teachers.
What she found disturbed her: most
arc either unprepared to teach a lab
science or can't keep up with chang-
ing technology. They often work in
schools with no lab facilities and no
funding for supplies.

"A high percentage of people
teaching chemistry weren't trained
in chemistry," she reports. "Often
they've had only freshman chemistry.
It's pitiful to see students come in
who are impaired by what they're
not getting."

With the help oi the State of
Georgia Department of Education,
Dr. Cunningham organized an on-
campus staff development program
that trains secondary school teachers.
The pilot program, which ran July 25
to August 12, offered teaching meth-
ods and lab experiments designed to
improve the quality of Georgia's
chemistry teachers.

According to Dr. Cunningham,
the initial program, "Color, Calories
and Curreiit," included lab oKserv-
ables like color changes, heat of reac-
tion and current tran.sformation.
"We'll repeat the course for the next
two summers," she explains, "and
hope to use the best of this group to
educate others." She wants them to
spread their new skills like ripples in
a pond.

To create the program, Dr.
Cunningham brought halt a ^lozen
high school teachers to campus,
asked what they needed, and in\ited
them to help design the program.
Then she deli\ered.

"She took an idea and mai^le some-
thing out of It," notes .Associate
Dean ot the College Harr\' Wistrand.
"She's not afraid to think big and us-
ually manages to accomplish it.
Alice didn't limit her vision to the
chemistry department; she tried to
build all the sciences." Not onl\
that, she's generous, says Dean
Wistrand, a biology professor. "If we
needed something tor the bioKig\-
department it we were developing

a course in molecular genetics, for
example she'd offer any resources
that chemistry' had."

This desire to help extends to her
teaching and advising. "She spends
a lot of time with chemistr\^ students
at the freshman level, scheduling
conferences when they ha\e trouble
understanding a concept," says the
dean. "She also works closely with
chemistry majors who seem to live at
the department."

Another colleague. Assistant Pro-
fessor of Chemistr\' Leigh Bottomley,
praises Dr. Cunningham's insight.
"Alice understands a student's
hesitancy about math problems. She
knows intuitively how to get them to
learn." According to Dr. Bottomlev,
Dr. Cunningham has an interdisci-
plinary- approach to science. "She
wants women to know about poly-
mer science, macro-molecules, bic">-
technology, splicing and cloning
genes. She's tr\'ing to make chem-
istry- students more well-rounded."

Dean of the College Ellen Wood
Hall '67 agrees. "She's a true edu-
cator not just someone standing
in front of a class spouting a lecture.
She thinks about the future of her
students and how to find the best
path for them in unimagined fields
in the 21st centur\-." Dean Hall,
wlio admires her energ\-, thor-
oughness and ideas, calls Dr.
Cunningham a "premiere professor
on this campus" and a "role model
tor young women."

.\nd her students.' "She's tough,"
says one. "She n-iakes us think and
de\-elop our own answers." .-Xnother
calls her "easygoing" with high ex-
pectations. "She'll do whatever she
has to m order to get acro.ss a
principle," s.ivs Tanva Sa\-age '89. "It
saddens her when we can't under-
st.md a concept. She'll come in
earlv or stay late and do whatever it
takes." But since she gives 100 per-
cent. Dr. Cunningham expects
exersone else to do the same, report
studeiits arid colleagues. "She ex-
pects too much," says Ms. Savage.

lice The Chinese will use profits from the
exchange to send students to the

Cunningham went to China

with a group ot chemists
as part ot the China-U.S.
Scientific Exchange. China
had just received a

ZOO-million-dollar loan from
the World Bank to upgrade
the country's technological
resources.

Her group lectured and
consulted with their
counterparts at the
Fu:hou Research Instititute
during a three-week
stay.

"SJ-ie thinks we should be doing
chemistr\- over dinner."

Academic excellence is Dr.
Cunningham's priority. "In a small
school you know when students
don't use their strengths," says the
department head, her fingers moving
like bird wings with her words. "But
the more efficient teachers can mo-
tivate them.

"If a student fails a test, then says,
'Oh, 1 worked so hard; it's not fair.' I
say, 'You're a grown woman. That
represents your accomplishment, not
your effort.'"

The workplace and higher edu-
cation reflect the changes in our
values, Dr. Cunningham thinks. "In-
stead of the norm being perfection,
the norm is mediocrity." That's just
not good enough. "There's a malig-
nancy in our society. We don't see a
goal; we see comparisons. Whether
it's our salary that should be greater
or our grades that should be higher,
we use the language of comparison

rather than superlatives."

TTiis striving for excellence is
noticed by her colleagues. "She's
ne\'er satisfied with the status quo,"
says Dean Wistrand. "She says
things can always be better. Wlien
we reach a new level of high
standards, she still wants more."

However, the dean says her im-
patience is also her strength. "I'm
not impatient," Dr. Cunningham
counters. "I'm a very patient person
and a good listener, but I get frus-
trated about the acquisition of mater-
ials. The administration doesn't see
the need until it's tt)o late. They're
not proactive, hut reactive."

Dean Wistrand sees this desire tor
excellence in every facet of her work:
curriculum, research, equipment, and
teaching. "This reaching out to high
schools will lead to better science
students for us in the long run," he
says.

Dr. Cunningham's guidance also
extends to firm support of the

chemistry department. "She has a
vision of what a department could
be," says chemistry Professor Leon
Venable. She's good to younger
department members and under-
stands their needs. "Her help isn't
just verbal," he says. "She goes out of
her way to help us find funding to
get labs set up land] then makes sure
we keep our national accreditation."

At one point, the chemistry- de-
partment tell below national stan-
dards because it lacked halt an
instructor. (The requirement is tour
faculty members.) "Alice went to the
administration and had to tight to
get us a tuU-time person on staff," Dr.
Venable recalls.

Chemistry's mostly young faculty
spend most ot their time learning
the ropes and preparing lectures.
"We don't think about ordering
supplies or getting funds," says Dr.
Venable. "But she does. You can
go to her with any problem and she'll
help you."

ictured: a series
oi scientific concepts painted
by Eloise Lindsay '89 this
summer at the request of
Alice Cunningham.

Above: the interaction of light and

matter.

Belou': free atoms in space.

"It Struck me as a wav to
I
I probe the way students view

these things." says Dr.

Cunningham of her idea.

The professor says she will

use the works to illustrate

hc^w students conceptualize

and sometimes

misconstrue scientific

principles.

Dr. Cunningham empathizes with
them. "I would like tei rid them of
their paranoia over getting tenure
and reassure them ot their value.
Young Ifaculty memhers] today don't
teel the sense of support I felt.
TTicy're much more nervous about
their future. I was fortunate, because
at that time they were handing out
tenure like candy," she laughs, her
nose wrinkling.

Today the powers-that-be are
more selective. "Yiui must show
some kind of vitality in the disci-
pline," she says. "It may show up as
research, but it doesn't have to be in
the number of papers published. 1
don't care if you turn out ten papers
a year," she insists. "You won't stay
here if you don't teach well."

According to Dr. Cunningham,
the chemistry department's goal is to
translate .science and technology to
students, as well as to the public.
How? One method is to revamp
today's chemistry texts, she says.
"Chemistry is a new frontier; the

technology's changing so fast [that]
there's no time to rewrite the text-
book. It's hard for us to get out of
the practice of using a cloned text.
We need one that is unified and re-
structured."

She proposes reorganizing the
chemistry text so it is more meaning-
ful than a "historical collage of what
we know." She has already begun
writing a new text, hut doesn't know
when it will be completed. "There's
a great national concern with this
issue, but few have the time to make
changes." A noisy lawn mower in-
terrupts her thoughts. She looks
outside the second-floor wiiulow ot
Campbell Science Hall and becomes
wistful: "It's too pretty to be inside
today. I'd love to go tishmg or play
some golf."

Later, in Campbell Hall, Dr.
Cunningham walks across the hall
and tells her secretary she'll return
shortly. Then she tours the depart-
ment with me, visiting chemistry
labs outfitted with high-tech equip-

ment and protectne hoods that draw
chemical vapors outside. Such safeirs'
precautions are relatively recent, she
says, pointing to row upon row ot
fume hoods. "They never had those
when we were doing research," she
recalls. A door she opens is labeled
"Caution: Radioactive." She re-
assures me that "we use only low
le\els ot radioisotopes here as an
analytical tool. It's not an extensix^e
radioisotope lab like vou'd tmd at
Tech."

Almost e\erv piece ot sophis-
ticated equipment in these labs has
been tunded through Alice
Cunningham's energies. It is atter
4:30 p.m. and students still remain in
the lab, conducting experimetits and
monitoring their progress. To meet
the demand tor scientitic personnel
in 1 ^WC, "we ha\e to iticrease the
number ot women and minority
scientists," Dr. Cunningham asserts.

Unfortunately, the tield is de\"el-
oping and changing so quickly, it's
difticult to keep up. Besides, she

laughs, many scientists are "uniquely
inarticulate."

Her theory: scientists play a
distinctive role. They analyze and
then use personal sense and
judgment to arrive at a conclusion.
"That response is so different from a
knee-jerk, emotional reaction," she
says, her eyes sparkling. "A lab scien-
tist must he objective. Even so,
three different scientists can come up
with three difterent answers. There's
always a margin of error."

Such analysis may work in a
laboratory, but in the real world
other factors play a part. That's
why preparing high school and
college students is so important.
"We try to make the best choices
possible to recruit girls with a high
potential tor intellectual and
personal development," says Dr.
Cunningham. "You hope you can
take them and make them go out as
young women who've enhanced
their capabilities. That's a real
metamorphosis. It's what makes a
women's college so exciting!"

She describes the Agnes Scott wo-
man as someone who knows herself
and who has achieved personal and
social adjustment. Witness the suc-
cess of the Return to College pro-
gram, composed ot women "who've
already grown up," she says. "We
tend to attract higher-than-average
students, and the higher caliber stu-
dent will choose chemistry and
physics. She's not afraid to pursue a
field that's male-dominated."

Alice Cunningham certainly
wasn't. She grew up in a rural house-
hold, one of four children. "It was
during World War 11 and sugar was
rationed, so we didn't have cakes
very often," she recalls. Despite the
austere times, people were import-
ant, no matter what their station or
education. Everyone had something
to contribute.

"We respected our neighbor, even
though he had only a third-grade ed-
ucation," Dr. Cunningham
remembers, drinking her morning

coffee from a handmade cup. At
that time, her family ate three meals
together daily. These became learn-
ing opportunities tor Dr. Cunningham
and her sisters. "My Dad brought
home Reader's Digest each month
and we were tested on our vocab-
ulary through 'Word Power.' We did
it until we could beat him at it," she
laughs.

Vacations were usually to the
0:arks over a "dirt road in a '41
Chevy. Once a year Mother took
us to Memphis for some cultural
event like figure skating or ballet
or an ice show." Traces of her
mother warm Alice Cunningham's
home: a green marble egg set in a
brass turtle base and flowered match
holders. Her mother was another
source ot inspiration. At forty-two,
she took over the family insurance
company when her husband became
a judge.

Asked about any personal mis-
givings in a traditionally male-
oriented field. Dr. Cunningham
scoffs: "It never entered my mind,
even it 1 were the only woman. 1
grew up in a gender-tree environ-
ment." Her father made only one
pronouncement regarding sex and
careers: Walnut Ridge, Ark., wasn't
ready for a woman lawyer.

That was okay with Alice
Cunningham, because she really
wanted to be a doctor. Having al-
ways loved the sciences, she majored
in chemistry at the University ot
Arkansas. After a stint in research,
followed by three years teaching high
school in Gainesville, Ga., and At-
lanta, she entered the University oi
Arkansas medical school. A month
of memory work convinced her that
she was "on the wrong side of the
desk again. 1 knew I'd rather be up
there teaching."

Again she got what she wanted.
Today Alice Cunningham holds the
William Rand Kenan Jr. Professor of
Chemistry Chair at Agnes Scott.
She also chairs the prestigious
Committee On Professional Training

oi the American Chemical Society.
With ACS she frequently travels to
Washington to decide the criteria for
an undergraduate degree in chem-
istry. Her curriculum vitae fills six
pages of honors, professional or-
ganizations, workshops, seminars and
publications.

Alice Cunningham is the third
person to occupy the Kenan chair.
"When 1 was named to it I didn't
really teel 1 deser\'ed it," she reveals.
But now, she says, nodding, "1 know
I've worked for it."

As for education's future, she
predicts a "sifting down" of small
colleges caused by noncompeti-
tive salaries, inadequate facilities
and obsolete equipment. "A lot
ot schools will lose their faculty,"
she says. She has few worries
about Agnes Scott, where 20 per-
cent of graduates major in math and
science and 6.8 percent
major in chemistry. "Our women
are extraordinary. To have had a
hand in their development is
rewarding."

Her students return the com-
pliment. Despite the grind ot labs,
lectures and long hours, premed stu-
dent Tanya Savage thinks Alice
Cunningham is pretty special. "She
defines what a professor should be on
every level. In high school the
teachers pound the material into
your head and keep pounding. In
college some professors think you
shciuld get it yourself. We need more
professors like Dr. Cunningham.
She cares."

When Alice Cunningham's father
died, she found his diary and turned
the pages, searching tor bits ot his
past and clues to his feelings. One
entry revealed what he really
thought of his second oldest
daughter. It said: "Doc is tearless."

jeanie Franco Hallem has unitten for
McCall's and Family Circle among
others. She is preseiuly Creative Writing
ardst'in-residence for Fidton County
(Ca.) pld^lic schools.

CALENDAR

C E N T E

A G N

N

E

N

S

I A L

S C

o

SEPT. 16 10:25 a.m

Dedication ot Chapel and Organ
Mar\ West Thatcher Chapel,
Wallace M, Alston C^ampus C^enter

SEPT. 18 3:00 p.m

Chapel Ori^.m Cjincert

Calvert lohiison, ( :olleMe Organist,

Associate Professor of Music

Mar>'WestTliatcher(.;hapel,

Wall.ice M, Alston Campus Center

SEPT. 21 10:25 a.m

Honors Convocation
Speaker Dr Patricia Crahani,
Dean, Harvard University
Graduate School otHJucition
Gaines Auditofium, Presser I lall

SEPT. 22 8:15 p.m.

t:entennial Stmlent Ptodiiclion
"May We Forget: A Lighthearted
Look at Agnes Scott's I listor\"
Gaines Audit..rium, Presser Hall

SEPT. 23 8: 30 a.m

Alumnae Rurd Meeting

10:45 a.m

Opening Celehration

Convocation

Gaines Audilofium, Presser Hall

Speaker Rosalynn Carter,

Distinguished Centennial Lecturer

Followed by luixh on the

tV'orge W and Irene K. Woodnitf

Ouadrangle

5:15 p.m

Buffet Reception

Alumnae Association honors the

Class of '89

The Alumnae Garden

6:45 p.m

Alumnae Leadership Conference

Opening Session

8:15 p.m.

Speaker Joyce Carol Gates,

Writer

Gaines Auditorium. Presser Hall

9:00- 10:00 a.m-

Alumn.ie Leadership Conference

Campus Update

10:30 a.m.

Senior Investiture

Speaker Dr. Arthur L- Bowling, Ir,

Associate Professor and Ch.iir,

Department of Physics ,ind

Astronomy

Gaines Auditorium, Presser Hall

11:30 a.m.

Brunch for seniors, parents, faculty
Rehekah Reception Ri.om,
Rehekah Scott Hall

12:00 p.m.

Alumnae Le.idership Luncheon

honoring tormer Alumn.ie

AssocMtum Ptesidenis

2:00 - 4:00 p.m

Alumn,ie Leadership

Workshops

4:00 p.m.

Alumnae Leadership t'onlerence

Plen.m Session

SEPT. 24 7:00 p.m.

(onimutrJi Parrs for campus commururv

& alumnae

George W. and Irene K. Woodruff

Quadrangle

8:15 p.m.

The Capitol Steps political satire

Games .Auditonum, Presser Hall

SEPT. 25 9:30 a.m.

Brunch tor alumnae, seniors and

their parents

The Alumnae Garden

1 1 :00 a.m.**

Communirv Worship Sen-ice

Dr. Isabel Rogers.

Profes.sor of .Applied Chnstianiry,

Presbvterian Schcv^l of Christian

Education

Gaines .Auditorium, Presser Hall

OCT. 11 8:15 p.m

Guameri String Quartet
L'i.unes .Auditorium. Pre.sser Hall

OCT. i: 10:25 a.m.

Distinguished .\lumnae Lecture
Bertha Merrill Holt '38

State Representative.

General .Assemblv ot

North Carolina

Gaines .Auditorium, Pre.sser Hall

OCT. 13 8:15 p.m.

.Agnes Scott Blackfriars Tlieatre

Production

"Out of Our Father's House"

CALENDAR

CELEBRATION

T COLLEGE

)CT. 2 1 , Alumnae Trip to Ramesses II

12,23 Exhibit in Charlotte, N^C

DCT. 23 3:00 p.m^

Flute and Harpsichord Recital
Carol Lyn Butcher, flute
Calvert Johnson, harpsichord
Maclean Auditorium,
Presser Hall

NOV. 12 8:15 p.m DEC. 6

DeKalh County Constitution

Celebration Drama

Gaines Auditorium, Presser Hall

NOV. 16 10:25 a.m.

Distinguished Alumnae Lecture DEC. 7-

Dr. Carolyn Forman Piel '40 MAY 20,

Gaines Auditorium, Presser Hall 1989

7:00-9:00 p.m

Opening Party tor the Agnes Scott

Exhibit

Atlant.i Histotical Society

R,S,VP(404) 371-6430

Agnes Scott College Exhibit
Atlanta Historical Society

ck Cat

8:15 p.m-

Student Music Recital

Lauri White, Molly McCray

Maclean Auditiirium, Presser Ha

8:15 p.m

Alabama Shakespeare Festival

"Hamlet"

Gaines Auditorium, Presser Hall

10:25 a.m.

Convocation '88 Election and

Civil Rights

Gaines Auditorium, Presser Hall

8:15 p.m.

DeKalb County Constitution
Celebration Panel Discussion
Gaines Auditorium, Presser Hall

NOV. 17 8:15 p.m.

Piano Recital

Jay Fuller

Associate Professor of Music

Gaines Auditorium, Presser Hall

NOV. 20 6:00 p.m.

Community Orchestra Concert
Gaines Auditofium, Presser Hall

DEC. 1 8:15 p.m

Canadian Brass

Gaines Auditorium, Presser H.ill

DEC. 2 10:25 a.m.

Studio Dance Theatre
Children's Christmas Concert
Games Auditorium, Presser Hall

DEC. 4 2:30 p.m

Agnes Scott College Glee Club
Annual Christmas Concert
Gaines Auditorium, Presser Hall

To reserve theatre tickets, call 371-6248. For tickets
to other events, call 371-6430.

Dalton Gallery hours are Monday through Friday,
9 a.m. to 9 p.m., Saturday and Sunday 1 to 5 p.m.

The Atlanta Historical Society is open Mon^l.iy-
Saturday from 9 a.m. - 5:30 p.m. and Sunday tmm
12 -5 p.m.

Please arrive early tor events to be directed to avail-
able parking. Handicappped access is available.

Events or speakers subject to change due to circum-
stances beyond the College's control. For general in-
tormation concerning the activities, call the Cen-
tennial Celebration (ice, (404) 371-6326.

'*'*NOTE: All alumnae who are ordained ministers
are invited to march in rhe procession at the open-
ing weekend of the Centennial Celebration. The
worship service will be held at 1 1 a.m. on Sunday,
Sept. 25, m Gaines Auditorium. Please contact
Bertie Bond or Carolyn Wynens at 371-6000 tor
further information.

ALUMNAE MAGAZINE WINTER 1988

Bo Ball

stories
from his
Appalachian
childhood

OUT THE WINDOW

He strode back and forth before
my French Uterature class,
reciting passages from Montaigne
with lusty abandon. An Oxford-
educated Canadian in his sixties,
Professor Winston-Smith (not his real
name) had managed to preserve ample
white hair and royal arrogance. With a
monocle, powdered wig and court dress,
he could have been any King Louis who
lived to adulthood.

In his yearlong course at the
university, he gave us a love of French
lit and a strong fear of his person. His
verbiage challenged a rapier, his
criticism could he crushing.

He held some of his most decided
opinions about women. Their best
work, he crudely contended, was done
on their backs. Each Wednesday even-
ing, he held a salon in his home for his
male students; women were prohibited.

In class. Professor Winston-Smith seemed perpetually
surprised when any of us women made an astute comment, as
if females could only fail to plumb the depths ot meaning in
French literature which was, after all, written by men. After
the final exam, he compromised by treating all the students
to dinner at the city's finest hotel.

Nevertheless, traveling with him through medieval
literature, into the Renaissance and beyond, made the
literature come alive, even for those ot us who kept the
dictionary at hand as we read. His delight in beauty, rever-
ence for the classical roots of the Renaissance, and tierce
defense of intellectual freedom entranced us.

He made the Renaissance so alive to me that one day it
hit me that it was over in a personal sense. As much as 1
admired Pascal or Descartes, no one could be like them
anymore. In that age, some men had learned virtually all
there w.is to know.

Since the Renaissance, you can't
know everything anymore, our professor
confirmed. "We must choose what to
know and to study. Everyone has only a
piece of the whole."

He was right, I'd been bom too late.
1 couldn't read all the books, take all
the courses, know all the subjects. I
really had to choose. So I became a
writer, for me the next best move.

I he seminar on teaching values that
many Agnes Scott faculty members
attended this past summer reminded me
of this experience.

The faculty members became aware
again of the choices they had made,
and the choices confronting their
students. Each of them had a piece of
the whole. Several of them talked about
the awe they felt in the company of
their colleagues, who represented disci-
plines about which they knew so little. Suddenly they were
students again.

In Agnes Scott's centennial year, it's good to remember
what It's like to be a student. For one hundred years, this
c<illege has been committed to educating women to giving
them the freedom ot inquiry and the intellectual challenge
that was denied to women in Professor Winston-Smith's class
years ago. Our faculty want to use their power as professors to
convey values that enable and encourage their students.
After the seminar, art history professor Donna Sadler
remarked that she "lo\ed being kept awake at night by
thoughts. When we teach, we lose that feeling of being on
the receiving end. I was struck by how much I missed it."

That renewed awareness offers Professor Sadler and her
colleagues in the seminar fresh insight into their teaching.
And in coming years, .Agnes Scott's students will be richer
for their experience. Lvnn Donham

Editor: Lynn Donham, Managing Editor: Stiicey Noiles, Art Director: P. Michiiel Moli.i, Editorial Assistant: .Antielic John. Student

Assistants: Allena Bowen '90, Michelle Cuok '91 , .Amy Goiidloe '89, Louisa P.irker '.S^', Editorial Advisory Board: George Brown, .Avse

ll^a: Garden '66, Susan Ketchin Ed^erton '70, K;ircn (.Veen '86, Steven Guthrie, Eli:alx'th Hallman Snitrer 'SS, Marv K. Owen Lirboe '6S.

Tish Young McCutchen '7^, Becky Prophet, Dudley Sanders, Edmund Sheehe\, Lucia Howard Si:emore '65, Elirabeth Stevenson '41

Copyright 1988, Agnes Scott College. Published three times :i ve.ir hv the (.Office ot Publications, .Agnes Scott College. Buttrick Hall,

College Avenue, Decatur, GA 30030, 404/371-63 1 S, The magarine is published tor alumnae and friends of the College. Postmaster: Send

address changes to (.Wice ot l\-velopment ;ind Public .Attairs, .Agnes Scott College, Decatur, G.A 30030. Like other content of the

magazine, this article retlccts the opinion ot the writer and not the \ lewpoint ot the (."ollege, its trustees, or administration.

About the artwork: These illustr.inoiis and photogr.iphs were pro\ ided b\ the artists represented bv

Alexander/Pollard. The co\er is ,in ,u\hi\;il photo that was hand-colored bv Julie Mueller-Brown. David Guggenheim.

a New Zealander now li\ ing in .Atl,int,i, photographed Dt. Bo Ball. Lindy Burnett illustrated the holidav articles

and the article, "Questions ot \',ilue," Elizabeth Traynor, well known for her hand-colored scratch board illustrations, did the paper

sculpture tor the article, "Getting it Write."

TURNABOUT

CONTENTS

It is hard to believe that anyone
associated with an Agnes Scott College
publication could be so uneducated as
to refer to an ordained Presbyterian
minister as "the reverend" (Spring
1988, page 24). This is, at best, igno-
rantly tacky; at worst, contemptuously
insulting. The College owes Mrs.
Adams an apology.

Mary Shewmaker '28
Memphis, Tenn.

Editor's note: / am sorry this caused you
such distress. I have double checked the
references we use m the office The
Chicago Manual of Style, The Associ-
ated Press Stylebook, Strunk &. White's
Elements of Style, and Webster's Dic-
tionary. I cannot find any caution against
the use of this phrase or any indication that
it carries a negative connotation .

I was interested to read the article
about Dr. Alice Cunningham (Fall
1988, page 20). I have many memories,
having taken a course with her during
my freshman year at ASC.

1 was particularly interested in her
encouraging comments about the
prospect of tenure for young faculty
members. Many students who were at
ASC during the 1978-1979 academic
year were extremely dismayed when Dr.
Alan White of the chemistry depart-
ment, whom I regard as one ot the best
teachers I have had in my academic
career, was denied tenure at Agnes
Scott.

It is hoped that the supportive
attitude displayed by Dr. Cunningham
will help to attract and retain other
inspirational faculty members in the
future.

Dr. Anita P. Barbee '82
Louisville, Ky.

Correction: The second drawing on
page 24 of the Fall magazine was
incorrectly captioned. Pictured is
electricity flowing through the atomic
structure of a metal conductor, not free
atoms m space, as stated.

Cover photo (
Archives

of the Bettman

Agnes Scott
Alumnae Magazine

SCOTT

Page 7

Dawn Out
Of Darkness

?e 12

Getting It
Write

Page 16

Questions
Of Value

Page 22

View from a
Mountaintop

Page 4
Lifestyles

Page 28
Finale

Page 30
Calendar

Winter 1988
Volume 66, Number 3

Thoughts for the season
from two religious
traditions offer fresh
insight into winter days
of darkness and light.

At Agnes Scott,
women are encouraged
to treasure the English
language and to use it
carefully and correctly .

In a seminar on teaching
values , ASC faculty
discovered the value of
empathy in teaching.

It's not exactly another
of those crazy stories
about Professor Bo Ball.

AGt^ES SCOTT MAGAZINE 3

LIFESTYLES

Love of theater
obvious in
Von Duyn roles

A cnn^ IS like exer-
/_\ cise tor Katrine
I \Van Duyn 72. It
isn't Liniisual tor her to
leave the stage and sud-
denly ache and feel
exhausted. The "workout"
is hard, she says, hut it's an
exhilarating feeling.

"Energy is importarit.
Ytiu have to be mentally
and physically fit to he an
actress or actor," says Ms.
Van Duyn, who received a
degree in theater from
Agnes Scott.

"It takes lots ot disci-
pline to he able to refresh
yourself, wipe the slate
clean and do the same
.show the next night. You
ha\e to approach each
shi>w with freshness and
relaxation and that
takes energy."

Since moving to Wash-
ington, D.C., m 1981, Ms.
Van Duyn has performed
with several of the capital
city's professional theaters,
building a line of acting
credits that continue to
boost her into the spi)t-
light. She has performed
with the Horizon's Wo-
men's Theater, Arena
Stage and the Stui.lio
Theater.

Her most exciting mo-
ment came last year on
opening night ot "The
Merchant ot Venice" at
Wasbingtim's Folger
Shakespeare Theater when
she performed the role ot
Portia, heroine ot the pla\.

"1 was the understiulv
tor Kellv McCullis

Kfiniiic' \ (in /)i/\')i. Ati acf\\

(Witness, T../Hii(n). Kelly
got sick suddenly, and I
had to go tin," Ms. Van
Duyn says. "1 had three
hours to prej-iare. I'd ne\er
had a run-through, ani.1 all
the costumes had to be
shortened tour inches."

Ms. Van l^uyn says
most ot those three hours
were spent standiiig on a
stool with her arms raised,
waiting as the seamstresses
alteivtl the many beaded
cloaks, mantles ,ind gowns
her role required. "The
costumes weighed a ton,
too," she sa\s. "But it w.is
all like a storvbook tale
come true. I'd wanted to
work at the Folger tor a
long, long time."

Ms. \'an Du\n savs she

^'Hta '^^ 4Mik
in t/ic cids.sicu/ moilc u'fiose god is "not to .spcirc jinthmg.

didn't ha\e time to thiiik
about being ner\ous. She
was prepared and telt
confident in that .ispect.
"At that time, being
nervous would h,i\e been a
luxury. .All I could think to
myself was 'this is it.' 1 was
,so excited and so h.ippv to
be workiiig opposite an
actor like Brian Bedtord.
I'd gone to all the rehears-
als atul had memorized the
lines. 1 knew 1 ..ould do it.

"1 .iched all o\er .ifter
'Mercb.mt,' " she remem-
bers. "1 usualK don't eat
an\thing before a show to
keep tiom feeling tilled up,
and I'm usualb' raxenoiis
atterw.ird."

Ms. \'an Duvri studied
Sb.ikespe.ire at Northwest -

em L ni\'ersity in Chicago,
where she received a
master's degree in theater.
She said she studied with
professors who offered her
great insight into ox A
interpretation. Her
rr.uning, her ^'8" height,
and her curb blond hair
m.ide her an ideal classical
actress, she adds.

Ms. \'an Duyn's latest
role was Octavia, Caesar's
sister aiid the betraved wife
ot Mark .Anton\, ui
Shakespeaie's ".-XntonN
.md LHeiipatra." The show-
opened September 20 .u
the Folger Theater.

"1 tiT not to spare
anvthiiig tor a role. 1 read
the script several times and
work h.ird at reallv ,icnii>:

4 WINTbR 1988

LIFESTYLES

out the role," she says. "I
love the theater and I lo\'e
how the show differs every
night. 1 like the 'real time'
you have to operate in.

"You live the role from
beginning to end, and that
role can change every
night depending on how
you teel and how the cast
feels. There's a difference
between really acting the
role and handing in a rote
performance," she says.

Ms. Van Duyn juggles
her acting schedule to
allow for some free-lance
research work for various
Washington corporations.
Free-lancing allows her the
flexibility she needs to
continue her stage career.
She has done voice-overs
for commercial and
industrial films. She soon
expects to become a
member of the Actor's
Guild and get an agent.

"Acting is so varied.
You have to be able to
answer the phone and take
a role at a moment's
notice," she has found.

"I love classical work,
and I love contemporary-'
work. But, 1 guess with my
Catholic school hack-
ground and then attending
Agnes Scott later, I tend to
fit the classical mode," Ms.
Van Duyn says. "I've done
Shakespeare, Chekhov,
and Wilde. I act out of a
sense of need a need to
express myself" June
Dollar

June Dollar is a umter arid
editor at The American
University, where she is
working on a master's in
public communication.

Margaret Porter
realizes ambitions
in birthing novels

W;

th her saucer-
shaped eyes and
pretty red lips,
Margaret Evans Porter '80
could understudy a heroine
in one of her own novels.
She'd play the part well.
The self-confessed Anglo-
phile was a member of
Blackfriars throughout her
college career and ap-
peared in nearly all ot their
productions from 1976-80.

Ms. Porter, whose first
novel, "Heiress of Ardara,"
was published by Dou-
bleday earlier this year,
notes, "Although 1 was an
English/Theatre major, 1
never once took a writing
class back then. Life is
funny that way."

What's funnier still is

that the Macon, Ga.,
native didn't really con-
sider writing for a career
until a foray into market-
ing research made her
think otherwise. She left
the relative comfort of a
nine-to-five job and began
to write full time.

As for her novel, "1 sat
down to write it on day
one, kept on and didn't
stop until I was finished."
It took less than a year to
ctnnplete, but much longer
than that to get published.
"Almost like having a
baby," the otherwise
genteel writer admits.
Actually, it was almost like
having two babies. She
sent synopses to several
publishers. Within weeks,
an editor at Doubleday
called and asked to see the
complete manuscript. That
was the easy part. It took

Novebst Margaret Evans Porter: Writing historical novt
is more like "having a baby" than playing a heroine.

sixteen months for Dou-
bleday to make her a titial
ofter. By then, she had
hired an agent. "I wanted
to concentrate on the crea-
tive end," Ms. Porter says,
"not the business end."

In the meantime, Ms.
Piirter wrote a companion
novel to "Heiress ot
Ardara." She describes
both books as love stories
set in nineteenth-century
Ireland.

She is currently working
on what she terms a main-
stream historical novel.
The history, not the love
story, takes front stage. A
research jaunt took her to
England and Wales this
fall and she hopes to write
full time this winter.

The 29-year-old writer
already has an impressive
list of credentials. She was
named an Outstanding
Young Woman of America
and in 1987 was nomi-
nated to Who's Who in
U.S. Writers, Editors, and
Pnets.

She holds a master's
degree in journalism and
mass ciimmunications from
the University of Georgia
and once wrote a college-
level manual for mass com-
munications researchers.

She now resides in
Littleton, Colo., a city
outside oi Denver, with her
husband, Christopher.

Her former yearning for
rhe stage has been usurped
by a writing career. "My
ambitions are achieved
when I'm able to sit down
and write and realize that
I'm able to do what 1 love
every day," she says con-
tently. Stacey Noiles

AGNES scon MAGAZINE 5

^'

Vs,

x.

DAWN

OUT OF

DARKNESS

Thoughts for

the Holidays From Two

Religious Traditions

FESTIVAL OF LIGHT

BY RABBI PHILIP KRANZ

December days evoke strong images
in my mind, images of darkness
pierced hy light.

I grew up in one of the wintriest
parts of the Midwest. I remember
well the melancholy days after
Halloween; the early nights, the
dark, threatening skies, the chilly
winds.

The winter holidays were a
cheery respite from December
gloom. In those days, people put up
their home decorations on Christ-
mas Eve day. Some families used
the same lighting display year after
year, while others varied their
design. I tried to determine the
most beautiful.

Each year an electric-light
manufacturer in my hometown
produced a holiday fantasy in
electric lights. Lines of cars snaked
through the campus-like grounds,
their passengers oohing and aahing
at the display. Although my family
was Jewish, we queued up, also. A
Chanukah display always sat among
the Christmas ones.

. \

ILLUSTRATION BY LINDY BURNETT

AGNES scon MAGAZINE 7 I

OF LIGHT

Chanukah the Jewish "Christ-
mas," my Christian friends called it
is a festival of light. I welcomed
its arrival as much as my neighbors
welcomed Christmas. I appreciated
the lights. 1 hated the darkness.

In my home, the Chanukah
celebration began with the ritual of
digging out the menorah or Chanu-
kah candelabra from the back of the
storage cupboard. My job was to
clean off the wax from last year's
candles. It was fim to melt it off and
then to reshape the droplets into
different designs. From another
room came my mother's voice: "I
hope that you're not playing with
matches," she called. "Ot course
not," I replied.

Each child in religious school
received a box of candles the week
before Chanukah began. They
came in a number ot pastel shades.
Since the Chanukah celebration
lasts eight nights, 1 planned the
colors tor each night's kindling.
Some nights had red, white and
blue candles, the colors of the
American flag; other nights I chose
blue and white, the national colors
of the state oi Israel. On the last
night, when the menorah was
aglow with all eight candles, I often
used one of each co\or, a dramatic
send-oft to the holiday that would
not return tor another year.

NX^en the first night ot Chanu-
kah finally arrived, I prepared the
menorah. One candle the first
night, two the second night, and so
on. The menorah was placed in the
window, to "display the miracle of
light." We recited blessiiigs and,
according to a Jewi,sh command-
ment, the tamily remained in the
room uniil the liny canelles burned
down.

These lights were tar less spec-
tacular than those on our Christian
neighbor's front porch, but they
filled me with the same sense of
satisfaction and joy.

My parents told me that Christ-
mas and Chanukah were very
difterent holidays. And yet, the
older I got, the more I realized that
they had something very beautiful
in common light light at the
darkest time ot the year.

Every year around December 22,
the sun moves to its greatest
distance from the celestial equator.
The shortest daylight ot the year
occurs. Ancient cultures feared the
winter solstice. They believed that
the sun might leave the earth for
good and the world he plunged into
total darkness. Life as we know it
would cease to exist.

So the ancients engaged in a bit
ot sympathetic magic. They lit
bonfires and torches, to encourage
the sun to return. After the twenr^'-
second of December the days got
longer as the sun slowly returned.

Today both Chanukah and
Christmas celebrations, echoing
those ancient testi\'als, are held near
the winter solstice. At the time ot
greatest darkness, they bring their
message oi light into the world.

A rabbinic legend savs that when
Adam saw the sun set on the tirst
night ot bis creation, he was
frightened, thinking that light had
disappeared tore\-er and th.u the sun
would never be seen again. Ciod, in
His mercy, ga\'e .Adam the intuition
to take two tlints to rub together to
kindle tire. Thereupon Adam
uttered the benediction, "Rlessed
are You, O Liird, C'reator ot Light."
Seeing the light, Adam was assured
that darkness need not prevail.

WINTER 1988

fl'TEN BY RABBI PHILIP KRANZ

Chanukah celebrates events of
the years 168-165 B.C. Jews living
in Judea suffered under the rule of a
Greco-Syrian king who thought
himself a god and attempted to
force his subjects to worship him.
Some yielded to his pressure; others
took a firm stand on behalf of their
faith. Although small in number,
they took up arms against an enemy
much greater than themselves.

The zealous fled to the hills of
Judea and from there carried on
guerrilla warfare against the king's
installations, pulling down pagan
altars, engaging the king's detach-
ments in battle and, in the end,
defeating them. This underground
resistance movement became the
first time in history that a people
went to war simply in the cause of
religious freedom.

From that time on, Jews cele-
brated Chanukah for eight days,
later adopting the custom ot
lighting one candle on the first
night and increasing until, on the
last night, eight were kindled.

In Jewish tradition, light became
a symbol of spiritual alertness and
dedication. It was light that God
used to kindle the souls of human
beings. Scripture teaches that the
"spirit ot man is the lamp ot the
Lord."

The Episcopal Cathedral in my
hometown produced a Boar's Head
Ceremony each year between
Christmas and New Year's Day. It is
a remnant from "Merry Olde
England" and a reminder ot Christ-
mases past. The most beautiful part
of the celebration is the conclusion.
A small boy, in medieval English
dress, walks up the aisle of the
cathedral with a lantern, a tiny
light flickering within, symbolizing

the message of Christmas and the
light he is taking into a dark world.

Chanukah and Christmas, as
festivals ot light, remind us that
human beings cannot yield to de-
spair. Religious faith has the power
to assure us that out ot darkness and
shadow, Adam created light. His
light was a reminder ot the greater
light, which emerges with dawn.

The pupils of a nineteenth-cen-
tury Eastern European rabbi ap-
proached their teacher with a com-
plaint about the prevalence of dark-
ness in the world. How, they asked,
could the darkness be driven away.

The rabbi suggested they take
brooms and sweep the darkness from
a cellar. But the bewildered students
swept to no avail. The rabbi then
advised his followers to take sticks
and to beat vigorously at the
darkness. When this, too, tailed, he
counseled them to go down again
into the cellar and shout curses
against the darkness.

When this too tailed, he said, "My
students, let each of you meet the
challenge of darkness by lighting a
candle." The disciples descended to
the cellar and kindled their lights.
They looked, and behold! the
darkness was gone.

I am grateful for the light that
good and decent men and women
create to bring brightness to
December's dark nights. In Chanu-
kah and Christmas, the holidays of
light for two great religions, we have
a powerful symbol of the goodness
this world might yet know. Because
I am a hostage ot hope, 1 look each
year for that light.

Philip Kranz is rabbi at Temple Sinai in
Atlanta and is an instructor in Bible and
Religion at Agnes Scott.

AGNES SCOTT MAGAZINE 9 I

THE AMBIGUITY OF CHRISTMAS

Many of us have treasured images of
Christmas: songs about silver bells
and snow and chestnuts. Red and
green lights strung across Main
Street. Parties and school plays.
Choral concerts. Wreaths of holly
and candles. Trees covered with
lights and icicles. Cookies and
cakes and special dishes. Christmas
cards exchanged with friends from
another time and place.

Christmas is indeed a time of
beautiful music and colorful decora-
tions and favorite foods, a celebra-
tion of memories and children,
friends and family.

Yet Christmas can also he a
difficult, overwhelming time. Too
much to do, too little time, so many
expectations, so many people. At
Christmas we miss loved ones no
longer with us. Rates of suicide and
depression increase. Memories and
dreams haunt as well as comfort
amid unrelenting commercial and
social pressure to get into the
holiday spirit.

Christmas is a holy time, the
celebration of the birth of Jesus of
Nazareth, the "son of Cod" whom
Christians worship.

Although some Christmas
activities, such as hymns, nativity
scenes, Handel's "Messiah," and
collections of money and toys for
"Empty Stocking" funds, can be
found in both religious and secular
contexts, specifically religious ac-
tivities may be reduced to the
Christmas Eve or Christmas
morning worship services.

For most the season is a time to
celebrate and reinforce social,
family and business networks with
festive food and drink and the
exchange of gifts. When days are
shortest we need a bit of fortifying

for the winter chill. Christmas
the memorial to Jesus' birth
came partly to counter mid-winter
Roman celebrations.

What is the appropriate spirit of
the season?

To reflect on the meaning of
Christmas, one turns to the life and
death of Jesus. We celebrate the
birth because of his life and death.
Who, then, is this Jesus and what
about him makes him worthy of so
special a place in history?

Mark, the gospel that most
scholars believe to be the earliest
account of Jesus' life, contains no
birth narrative.

The Gospel of John talks more
about the incarnation, God
becoming human, than about the
birth itself. The gospels of Luke
and Matthew vary greatly in the
details of their accounts.

Luke creates a sense of joy and
wcinder with angels and shepherds
and a stable. Matthew describes
wise men from the East following a
star to see the new king, briiiging
gold and frankincense and myrrh.

Roth accounts say that even at
his birth political and social
strucrure.s are challenged. In the
Lukan account, the baby with the
shepherds points toward God's
ultimate concerns for society's
outsiders racial outcasts, sinners,
women, the poor, lepers. In Mat-
thew, the baby Jesus is such a
political threat that to kill him, the
Roman ruler puts to death all
young children of Bethlehem.
Jesus' family, through God's
intervention, escapes to Eg\-pt.

Trees and Santa ha\'e their place
at Christmas; they ser\-e good and
Li.seful puiposes. The gospel tradi-
tions reveal more clearly the

10 VVII\iri R 1988

yii.^

^wjH

is

f

WRITTEN BY BE

TH MACKIE'69

significance ot Christmas as it

hierarchies, and more concerned

relates to human existence in

with assisting others to develop

recounting the life ot Jesus Christ.

lives of love and purpose.

Christ saw individuals. He didn't

Change lies at the core of even

simply deal with problems or

secular Christmas celebration. We

diseases. Jesus saw the man who

enter into a different time and place

collected taxes, the woman who

even when that time and place

insisted that Jesus heal her daugh-

come from Santa and the North

ter, the man possessed hy "de-

Pole. We change priorities in order

mons." Jesus enabled them to live

to get our shopping and wrapping

their lives more fully by removing

and baking done.

specific physical and mental

But at this season, to enter the

obstacles. Jesus changed lives as

sacred time and place of Jesus is to

well as bodies.

look at the world around us to

Christians often see only the

appreciate the love and joy of living

problem: homelessness, poverty.

in the world and to look at those for

corrupt political systems, suffering

whom Christmas is not a time of

and sickness.

joy.

While we may help relieve the

Christmas calls for change:

problem, we don't want to see the

recognizing the light of love.

people. To see the people is to see

extending that love and concern in

Christ m them, and to see Christ

ways that fundamentally make tor a

means not only to share ourselves

better world, and giving people

but to risk being asked to change

control over their lives by breaking

ourselves and our world.

the barriers of sickness or isolation

It is easier to make pronounce-

or domination or poverty that keep

ments about principles than to see

them from developing into the

the people around us and how our

unique persons of worth and value

decisions, our actions, our attitudes

that they were created by God to

afiect their lives. To really see the

be.

people around us and around the

Christians k)ok to the future,

world is to envision and long for a

confident that nothing in heaven or

different world. Above all, Christi-

earth can separate people from

anity believes that Christ's life in

God's continuing love as they live

human form changed the world.

and change and celebrate.

The meaning of human existence

It is the reverence tor life which

shifted because Christ lived and

comes from reverence tor Christ

died.

that is the most wondrous aspect of

Paul talks of the Christian lite in

Christmas and which may again

the spirit as one of love, joy, peace.

give angels reason to sing joyfully:

patience, kindness, goodness,

"Glory to God in the highest, and

faithfulness, gentleness, self-control

on earth, peace, goodwill to all

(Galatians 5:22-23). It is a world in

persons . . . ."

which Christians are less con-

cerned with power in social.

Beth Mackie is assistant professor of Bible

economic, political, cultural,

and religion at Agnes Scott and a member

familial, racial, and educational

of the class of '69.

AGNES scon MAGAZINE 1

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L ,

Gotting It Write

Writing can create a

cluttered landscape to those v^o

enter. ASC's vs^iting workshop

seeks to ease the difficulty

of putting pen to paper.

BY SUSAN MEDLOCK

illiam Faulkner entered the classroom late
perched on the edge of the teacher's desk and looked intently from student to student. There they sat,
a class of University of Mississippi writing students eager to learn from the venerahle author. "So, you want
to be writers?" Faulker asked gruffly, breaking the silence at last. Heads bobbed, pencils came to attention,
weight shifted in the wooden seats. "Then, damn it, start writing." And he stalked out. End of lecture.

AGNES scon MAGAZINE 1 3

Is the lesson that terse? Do writers
learn only hy writing? On another
Southern campus four decades later, a
genial English professor echoes
Faulkner's advice: "The only way to
learn to write is to write often."

Christine Cozzens should know.
A puhlished writer, she has taught
writing at Harvard, NX^eaton and
Emory. She recently joined Agnes

Agnes Scott students are required
to take English 101, the writing of
critical and expository papers and the
critical reading of literary works by
genre. The course causes problems
for students who haven't a solid
background in English grammer
and composition.

Dr. Cozzens and tutors work with
students who have been identified as

For Dr. Cozzens, honing communi-
cations skills through the wTiting
process can be compared with viewing
a painting. From two inches, a canvas
is merely brush strokes; from tw-o feet,
it's a park scene. In the same way, a
writer must compel her reader to do
the same. "Don't just give the readers
evidence," Dr. Cozzens says. "Tell
them what it is."

Scott as assistant professor ot English
and director of the College's newly-
established writing workshop. Her
mission at Agnes Scott includes
helping students learn to write,
helping students who write well teach
others, and collaborating with other
professors in the inclusion of writing
across the curriculum.

Can anyone learn to write? Is it
enough, by damn, just to start writing?

"You learn to write by writing; you
learn to think by writing," says Dr.
Cozzens. "Anyone who wants to put
the time into it can make tremendous
progress," she adds. "But writing is
time-consuming, and you must learn
how to he nurtured by criticism rather
than beaten down by it.

"It helps it the critic is tactful," she
adds, smiling.

^X^at defines good writing? "Clear,
succinct, understandable, jargon-free
[prose]," says Dean Ellen Wood Hall
'67. Dr. Cozzens adds, "Writing that
communicates is good writing. You
don't have to agree with the writer,
[only] he engaged by what the writer
has said."

To help students learn the skills
necessary to be good writers, a brand-
new subdiscipline teaching writing
has been developed within the
English curriculum, which College
officials hope will be endowed by the
Centennial Campaign. A $50,000
grant from the J.M. Tull Foundation
has made possible the College's
writing workshop, directed by Dr.
Cozzens and staffed by qualified peer
tutors.

needing help. This past year, the
program included 13 students. This
semester, 14 are enrolled. "The
writing laboratory is a tool for the
campus, a resource for the commu-
nity," says Dr. Linda Lentz Hubert
'62, chair of the English department.

"To a certain degree, our basic
sense ot language has been lost to the
video generation," continues Dr.
Hubert. "We moved away from
accurate and careful writing. Now
we're moving back towards an
emphasis on verbal skills."

To this end, the writing workshiip
aids students with specific writing

problems, as well as any student
seeking help with her writing. Stu-
dents write on the blank screen of
the computer; tutors provide
instand feedback.

"Two-way communication is
essential to the development ot good
writing," says Dr. Cozzens. "I never
submit anything I've written tor
publicaticin or any other purpose
without showing it to someone first."

"Writing has always been a col-
laborative experience," says Dr.
I kibert. Tutors' assistance doesn't
violate Agnes Scott's Honor System,
adds Dr. Cozzens. "Everybcidy ki-mws
the difference between an idea they
think of and an idea they stole. Tutors
don't put words in students' rrnuiths. I
think tudent and tutor always know
where one's ideas end and the other's
bc'jin."

The two-inch perspective is
particularly troublesome in research
papers, Dr. Cozzens says. It is rela-
tively easy to list facts and thus create
a field of dots on a canvas. It is much
more difficult to put the facts together
as a coherent whole.

To help her students with the
process of organizing tacts and ideas
into a unit, she has them keep
journals. "There's a lot that you write
that you don't use," she says. "Sixr\- to
seventy' percent of what I ask my
students to write I never see."

After assigning the first freshman
English paper, tor example, Dr.

Cozzens tells her students to write in
their journals what problems and
struggles they anticipate. The process
ot identif\'ing potential stumbling
blocks helps diffuse anxiety.

For non-English majors, Dr.
Cozzens plans as part ot her role
ciillaborating with other disciplines
to encourage professors to urge their
students to take advanced composi-
tion. Course assignments are tlexible
and a science major may, for example,
bend the course to her interests.

"Tlie English department can't
mass-produce good wTiters and plug
them into other fields," says Dr. Coz-
zens. "Disciplines iieed to wc^rk
together to enhance the teaching ot
writing."

That's something William Faulk-
ner would appreciate.

Late in his lite, Faulkner was asked

1 4 WlhJTER

The Write Kind of Students

Q.

/er the years, Agnes Scott has brought noted writers to campus:
Robert Frost, Eudora Welty, Robert Penn Warren, Harry Crews, Joyce Carol Oates, Anne Rivers Siddons,
TiUie Olsen.

The person who initially brought to Agnes Scott one of the most regular of famous visitors, Robert
Frost, will now be remembered and honored by the endowing of a fund in her name. The Emma May Laney
Endtnvment Fund of $500,000 is the gift of two former students who are now trustees of the College and their
husbands, Tom and Dorothy HtiUoran Addison '43 and Daniel and Elizabeth Henderson Cameron '43.

Mrs. Cameron, student president of the Lecture Association tor which Miss Laney was the advisor for
years, remembers her professor as one who "stood for the highest standards of academic excellence and high
integrity." Dorothy Addison says, "Her commitment to me as a student is the core of what I think education
at Agnes Scott is all about. From her I learned to write well, 1 learned to write honestly and clearly."

Emma May Laney taught tor 37 years in the Department ot English, from 1919 to 1956. The Emma
May Laney Fund, to be used at the President's discretion, will be tor the purpose ot bringing distinguished
residents to campus tor short or long visits, or to fund other activities which toster cultural enrichment and
good writing by students, in honor ot Miss Laney's own contribution to Agnes Scott.

what advice he would give young much he might love that page or para- to muse." And Agnes Scott's writing

writers. "At one time I thought the graph. The most important thing is program from 1889 through the

most important thing was talent. I insight . . . to wonder, to mull, to 2 1st century will continue to help

think now that the young man or the muse why humans do what they do, young women to learn the "infinite

young woman must possess or teach and if you have that, then 1 don't patience" of trying until the words are

himself, train himself, in infinite think the talent makes much differ- right.

patience, which is to try and to try ence, whether you've got that or not."

and to try until it comes right. He TTirough its one hundred year

must train himself in ruthless intoler- history, Agnes Scott College has

ance that is, to throw away any- encouraged young women to be Siisan Medlock is the former public

thing that is false no matter how curious "to wonder, to mull, and informationofficer for Agnes Scott.

AGNES scon AMGAZINE 1 5

i* 24

For ASC faculty, a summer
seminar on teaching values
became an exploration
into the values of teaching.

BY L Y N hJ D O N H A M

"Ei^lucatiiiH someone is like creatine;
an incredibly rich passageway," Dean
ot the College Ellen Hall '67 likes to
say. She and twenty faculty members
returned this tall with fresh empathy
tor their students, and new awareness
ot the cultural and personal values at
work in education.

Fifteen professors from the hu-
manities and five from the natural
sciences spent June in an intensi\e
seminar on teaching values. Partially
funded by the National Endowment

tor the Humanities, the seminar
brought fi\'e experts to campus as
consultants to the taculty's studies.
Their readings ranged from Aristotle
to Simone de Beau\"oir. In each work
they probed \alues.

"A humanities faculty is one ot the
chiet purveyors ot the \'alues ot a
culture," explains Dean Hall. "In the
texts we study and teach arc en-
shrined the best images ot what it is
to be human. Sometimes the images
are ot tailed, even evil, humanirs'.

QUESTIONS OF VALUE

6 WINTER 1988

ILLUSTRATION BY LINDY BURNETT

Other images show us humanity at
its best. We must convey these
images as models of what Ufe can be,
for ourselves and for our students."

Dean Hall directed planning for
the seminar, assisted by Sally
MacEwen, assistant professor of
classical languages and literatures.
The seminar targeted four values:
justice, freedom, community and
tolerance. At issue were more than
abstract values themselves, hut
how to balance their sometimes
conflicting demands.

"The trick is figuring out what you
do in individual situations. Like
playing tennis, there are some rules,"
says Callaway Professor of Philosophy

Richard Parry, principal author of the
NEH funding proposal. "But no rules
tell you what to do to hit the ball on
this volley or that. This requires skills
and sensibilities." He calls these skills
and sensibilities virtues.

To develop such virtues, he be-
lieves, "We must set forth for our
students fundamental choices about
what their lives will be like. We
believe that some of the best answers
are found in traditional places, such
as the first five books of the Bible,
Aristotle, and elsewhere."

Adds Dean Hall, "Everybody
comes into the classroom with a
personal stance, a world view that
permeates everything that person

says." Both students and teachers
hold assumptions. "We must under-
stand the other person's point of view
and why he or she holds it."

The texts used this past summer
offered the group an opportunity
to talk across the divisions of aca-
demic disciplines. "In the time of
Aristotle, until the Renaissance, all
knowledge was one body," Dean Hall
explains. "After the Renaissance,
knowledge began to be projected
through prisms called disciplines, like
a million different colors."

In recent years, academia and
business have moved to re-integrate
their arrays of specialties. Down the

Continued

AGNES SCOTT MAGAZIIIE 1 7 I

The seminar's greatest benefit

may have been to encourage faculty "to embrace diversity

and to agree that there usually is more than

one point of view/'

road, she suggests, new disciplines
may arise from new conihinatmns
of studies.

The first consultant. Dr. Walter
Brueggeman, professor of Old Testa-
ment at Columbia Presbyterian
Theological Seminary, set the
seminar's tone when he declared,
"A liberal arts education is an arena
where there is time and space to
talk about these voices in luir
society. There are very tew ot those
places left."

Three other consultants tollov\'ed
Dr. Brueggeman:
Herman Sinaiko, professor of
humanities. University of Chicago,
taught Aristotle's Nicnmachcan Ethics
and Antigone.

Professor Jean Bethke Elshtain,
University of Massachusetts, pre-
sented John Stuart Mills' On Liberty,
Martha Noel Evans, associate
professor of French and coordinator
of women's studies, Mary Baldwin
College, taught Simone tie Beauvoir'.s
She Came to Stay.

ov the first two days each week,
faculty whose disciplines included the
texts made presentations and led dis-
cussions to prepare their ciiUeagues
tor the consultant's visit.

Participants got together t)utside ot
class as well. Softball games, dinners,
and trips to local music spots gave
them a respite from the more siilitary
academic terms.

Four battered tables, holdmg scat-
tered Bibles and coffee mugs, nearly
spanned the length ot Alston Cen-
ter's main lounge as the professors
settled into their seats.

The first week, Walter Bruegge-
man, theologian and eminent Old
Testament scholar, taught. In his
book. The Prophetic Imagination, Dr.
Brueggeman has written that pro-
phetic teaching and preaching
provide energy and refreshing images
by which to steer one's lite and make
sense ot one's calling.

His powerful, patriarchal teaching
style suited this promise. A sharp
nose punctuated his hawklike face,
topped by a shining bald head with
only a skirt ot gray hair. He used
his rich, deep voice dramaticallv,
thundering when he chose. His
nearly irresistible momentum earned
his listeiiers. Moving fluidh' belween
literary analysis, historical ctmtext
and daily life, he offered deep in-

sights, his \-iews sprinkled with
mitered wit.

"All texts require interpretation
that can include radical innovation
as part of the covenant. This keeps
the law from becoming flat and
irrelevant. TTie Old Testament is
profoundly open to adjustment and
circumstances," he said.

As his audience sipped coffee, he
ran through the literar\' and struc-
tural skeleton ot Deuteronomv, "the
center of the Old Testament, where
theological lines con\-erge."

The book's core, chapters 12-26,
probably date from the 13th century-
B.C., although they may have been
lost tor several centuries. Many
scholars believe these are the texts
found in the Temple in 621 B.C., as
told m 11 Kings. These scriptures
mo\ed Israel's voting Kiiigjosiah to
repent, and he reorganized the
Israelite community to renew the
co\-enant. Scholars believe the rest ot
the book was likely written bv re-
formers of Josiah's time, who adopted
the form of "speeches of Moses" to
.idd credence to their message.

CoNeiiants often defined iion-
tamilv relationships; thev plaved a
ke\ role throui:hout the Old Testa-

8 WINIER 1988

ml

ment and antiquity. Dr. Brueggeman
described the Old Testament cove-
nant between God and the Hebrews
as one designed to protect the poor
and the powerless m that society'.
The first covenant between God and
Abraham, in Genesis 15 and 17,
became the model for later bonds
with Noah and King David. But after
the exodus from Egypt, the covenant
grew to govern the social, religious
and political fabric of the community.
It relied on religious faith and
gratitude to impose ethical standards
for a just and peaceful community.

Chapters 6-11 recount the He-
brews' Exodus from Egypt and
wilderness wandering, before they
enter "the Promised Land." These
chapters remind the Hebrews of who
they are and what God has done for
them. Recounting these narratives is
important in the Old Testament's
faith tradition.

"You get obedience by telling
stories," preached Dr. Brueggeman.
"The problem with the contemporary
church is that we've forgotten the
narratives and kept only the rules.

"Affluence causes amnesia," he
quipped. TTie writer of Deuteronomy
worried that success and security of

the Promised Land would scuttle the
memory of the Hebrews. "Forgetting
is the great Jewish sin."

Writers of the Bible believed that
security is an enormous seduction.
"Like the long conversations we have
with our children before they go off
to college, we feel there are enormous
risks that they may never come
home again. Or if they do, that we
will not be able to tolerate them," he
added.

Could Israel change from the
wandering, nomadic community to
the agricultural lite of the Promised
Land and avoid the consumerism and
idolatry of Canannism? To do so,
even Israel's king must he different.
"This king will not amass arms,
alliances or wealth," the professor
explained. "He will sit on the throne
and read the Torah all day."

The Israelites also grappled with
the limits of individual and group
responsibility. Deuteronomy called
for cities of refuge to shelter runaway
slaves, the right to glean what one
needed from a neighbor's field
(guarding against the excessive
constraints of private property), and
no-interest loans to members of the
community. Deuteronomy says "do

not oppress the poor; pay people their
wage the day they earn it," said Dr.
Brueggeman. "Here, you cannot
organize the economy for the sole
motive of profit."

Beyond social laws and customs,
he said, Deuteronomy calls Israel to
remember the "spectacular gifts that
come out of God's goodness, not to
remember sin and evil and harm."
Psychotherapy tells us that we forget
what we ought to remember and
remember what we ought to forget,
he said. "Terrible ego is involved in
the thought that you as an individual
can atone for the sins of the father."
Yet children hear the consequences
of their parents' mistakes: witness
environmental problems, child abuse,
the national debt.

"Can we live with an alternative
imagination in a hostile environ-
ment?" he asked, arching bushy
eyebrows over black reading-glasses
inched down his nose. "Deuteronomy
suggests that life could really be
conducted in a pattern of justice and
freedom, without yielding to political
and military pressures. Deuteronomy
asks: Can one have a different kind of
a king in the real world? Can we

Contmueti

AGt^lES scon MAGAZINE 1 9 I

"I had forgotten

v/hat it was like to be a student. I loved that

'moveable feast' of ideas. I loved being kept av^ake

at night by thoughts."

imayme public lite in a Jifiercnt
mode, or are we fated to a consumer
economy till the end ot time?"

The next day Dr. Brue^^eman
opened to the hook ot Jeremiah.
Named for its prophet-author,
Jeremiah is a poetic "re-rendering" ot
Deuteronomy using the allegory ot a
lawsuit between God and Israel. The
lawsuit has two parts: "You have
broken my commandments," and
"therefore. . . penalty or curse."

The countertheme ot the book is
Israel's relationship with God (Yah-
weh). Jeremiah boldly proclaims that
forgiveness of Israel's sins is possible,
"God is willing to violate His own
law tor the sake of the relationship,"
Dr. Brueggeman explained. "God has
done an about-face. He discovers
'the.se are my people and I love
them.' He must decide whether to
enel the covenant and keep the
relationship or enforce the covenant
and end the relation.ship."

God can't "turn loose" until there
is a good outcome that is the ho|X'
ot the Old Testament. "Being adults,"
argued Dr. Brueggeman, "we tinally
come to an awareness that this
pathos-filled love is the most real,
true tbini' in our lite and we act in

treedom to torgive."

Peggy Thompson, an Engli.sh
protcssiir, built on his point. "Not
only does the beloved have a difficult
time accepting it, but the lover has
a difticult time loving." Her \oice
was earnest, open. "This is diametri-
cally opposed to Freud and others
who say that treedom is in detachinu
trom relationship. Freedom is lix'ing
healed in the fidelity of your father or
mother's love."

Professor ot Psychology Miriam
Drucker added that forgiveness is
aiming her current research interests.
"One answer to the question ot how
we become adults is the process ot
torgiveness. You torgive yourselt in
relationship to the other person."

Dr. Brueggeman's presentation
"was very revealing," says Chris
Ames, two months later. "It empha-
sized the Mosaic code as a moral code
tledicated to justice tor oppressed
people, which is a perspective I'd
only heard indirectly."

Assistant Professor ot Biology
Hi.1 Hover agrees. "It's been a long
time since I've read the Old Testa-
ment, and I'xe not thought about it

in some ot the ways Brueggeman
bniught out. He was just fascinating.
It was a completely difterent way ot
thinking about the Old Testament."

One participant wrote on the
evaluation: "Thunderbolt concepts:
the radicalness of the Pentateuch;
the built-iir imperati\"e to constantly
re-assess our texts that as a basis
ot community . . . the personal at-
traction of ethics-in-action of Aris-
totle, the incredible suggestion ot
[Martha] E\-ans that justice, com-
munity, and tolerance were detined
by the tirst."

.Another wrote, "I held ossified
and generally incorrect stereotypical
\ lews ot the Old Testament, Aristotle
and, to some extent, Greek theater.
I tound Professor Brueggeman's dis-
cussions ot the scicial histor\- ot the
Hebrews fascinating, and 1 \er\- much
liked his reading ot the political
radicalism iri the social prescriptions
o( the Old Testament. I wasn't
completely convinced, but certainlv
was interested."

The other consultants won similar
praise. But the Agnes Scott faculty
seemed most affected by the experi-
ence ot being a student again.

.Art Bowling, who has taught

20WIIJTER 1988

MZ

.- ^.

*=^_.

physics for 1 2 years, says, "I i\\ox-
oughly enjoyed it. I was wn~)ng
several times, hut my colleagues were
gentle," he adds. It was worthwhile
"to feel again the reluctance to say
something stupid," "Students
experience it all the time."

Art history professor Donna Sadler
calls the seminar a "landmark."
"I had forgotten what it was like to he
a student. I peaked as a student I
loved that 'moveable feast' of ideas,"
she explains. She smiles. "1 loved
being kept awake at night by
thoughts. When we teach, we lose
that feeling of being on the recei\'ing
end. I was struck by how much I
missed it."

The seminar also helped her
remember her goal to recreate that
feeling for her students. But there
were a few hurdles this summer, too.

"I'm so used to standing m the
dark with my pointer and the slides,"
she explains. "Then I realized in
this seminar the lights were going
to be on all the time." She laughs
easily. "I was having a hard time
feeling secure."

English professor Chris Ames also
found the seminar valuable. "1 learn
when 1 teach, but I'm gearing it to

the student's le\'el. It was nice to
be able to balance that with an ex-
perience where I had to push intel-
lectually to grasp the material and to
keep up."

"It was a rare opportunity," agrees
Miriam Drucker. "It was humbling to
see so many people around whose
knowledge and expertise are in areas
outside your own."

Gus Cochran, a political science
professor, was amused to find himself
behaving like his students. Some-
times "1 did the reading, came to
class, awaiting the teacher's presenta-
tion. I'd not really thought about
the material. NX^en my students do
that, 1 scream and holler. Now I'll
be better teacher."

Faculty talk enthusiastically about
doing it again, perhaps with more
science faculty and scientific texts,
or perhaps with students. Others long
tor an interdisciplinary seminar on
teaching methods, including vi-
deotaping participants. Dean Hall
believes the seminar's greatest benefit
was the daily contact among people
of differing opinions. We are taught
to be alone with hooks and to be
combative in arguing points. This
semmar allowed us to embrace di-

versity and to agree that there may be
more than one point of view."

The seminar also enabled faculty
to see one another in a more human
light, and to consider teaching
methods that permit their students
to understand them as individuals,
too. Says Dean Hall, "The issue is not
to show someone as an absolute au-
thority, but as someone who has
mastered a field and dealt with
everyday human problems at the
same time. That's a role model. To
educate healthy, whole women, they
need to see the whole person that is
their professor."

She resists the temptation to
define the outcome. "The NEH grant
was given because the seminar was
open-ended. Certainly it was a
catalyst to get people thinking in a
deeply cooperative way."

In evaluating the course, one
faculty member concluded that the
summer's experience would take time
to digest and absorb. "We often claim
that our students don't always know
what they've learned until later.
Maybe we're the same way."

Lynn Dunham is director of publications
and editor of this magazine .

AGr JES scon MAGAZINE 2 '

VIEW

FROM A

MOUNTAINTOP

"He >vrites of
mountain people, of
Appalachian poverty
humorously and
poignantly. My first
impression on look-
ing at Appalachian
Patterns was that I
hod something out of
the ordinary."

Ball likes to tell stories. People like to tell stories
about him. There was the time that
Linda Lent: Huben '62, his English
department colleague of uvenr\- years,
invited him to teach one of her
classes. He enthralled the students
with his expansive gestures and
ebullient style. And then, to the
dismay of Dr. Hubert, who planned
to thank him. Bo Ball slowly, but
deliberately, backed out the door to
end his lecture. No question-and-
answer period. "He just vanished,"
she laughs. Jane Zanca 'S3 remembers
a student tremulouslv telling her how
"that crazy Bo Ball" had leaped on a
table during class. "I said to myself:
'Ot all the Bo Ball stories, this was
ridiculous.' 1 had this picture in mv
mind ot Bo jumping up and down on
his desk, and 1 thought, 'Soon I'll be
hearing stories about Ro Ball swing-
ing from the belfrw'

Y STAGEY NOILES

PHOTOGRAPHY BY DAVID GUGGENHEIM

I 22 WINTER ]<

AGtMES scon MAGAZINE 23

"So I went to his office and said to
him, 'You won't helieve this. I heard
you jumped up and down on a desk in
a class.' "

"I did," he told her. "1 had to ^ct
their attention somehow."

o Ball,

otherwise known as Dr. Bona W. Ball,
ASC's Ellen Douglas Leyhum Priites-
sor ot English, is a gifted writer and
merciless editor; an assiduously private
person given to displays ot high drama
in an effort to communicate effec-
tively and entertainingly with his
students.

He's been pegged as some sort ot
Ivan the Terrible and he admits he
can sometimes he rough. "1 cannot
bear continued ignorance," says this
man who can leave first-year students
quaking in their Reehoks. "1 won't pur
up with it."

Yet he once gave a stLident his Phi
Beta Kappa key after she was not
elected to the society he felt she
truly deserved it.

This dichotomy is evident e\eii in
his writing. One critic wrtite, "It is rare
to Hnd fiction that both sings anel
stings, that takes the language,
compresses it and turns prose into
images of beautifully sharjt, cutting
awareness."

TTiat also describes Bo Ball. His
writing reflects the sum of his parts.
Beneath the sharp words and pen lies
a warm and generous even senti-
mental human being.

"If you read his short story, 'Wish
Book,'" says Jane Zanca, "you cannot
help but know that the person who
v\Tote it is ninety percent heart.

"Behind that intimidating shell,"
she continues, "is this really sensitive
person and that's what comes across in
his writing."

His stories "Wish Book" and
"Heart Leaves" appeared in Pushcart
Pri:e anthologies the best ot the
nation's small presses. Both are in his
book Appakichian Patten\s, published
this tall.

The stories represent "an amalga-
mation of human pathos," says his
editor, Stanley Beitler of Atlanta's
Independence Press. "He writes
quintessentially of mountain people,
ot Appalachian poverty hLUimr-
ously and poignantly." Mr. Beitler
compares Dr. Ball to Eudora Welty,
although he believes, "Bo Ball's
technique is funnier and more realistic
than Eudora Welty 's.

"My first impression on kxiking at
the manuscript [of Appalachian
Patterns] was that 1 had something out
ot the ordinary," he adds.

Associate Professor ot English
Steve Guthrie, who works with Dr.
Ball on the Writers' Festival, says,
"Bo's stories give me a sense ot place
and people and, above all, latiguage.

"You can hear Bo's delight in
language in the metaphors he tosses
off as if they were nothing."

Bethel and Doll are the young
lovers oi "Heart Leaves." They
exentually marr\' and grow old
together. The stor^' a model of its
genre powerfully condenses their
courtship and lifelong love affair.

"As a child she had fought sleep
to catch fireflies or tr\' to peep the
dusky eyes of whippoorwills," Bo Ball

writes m "Heart Leaves."

"Now she complained of aches and
went to bed early. Katydids sawed
their itch; night birds swelled their
throats. They blended with her
dreams, wide-eyed and closed, of Doll
and their twelve children who would
escape snakebite and fever to grow up
to take his face."

Dr. Ball based these characters
and others on people he knew while
growing up in Virginia's Buchanan
County, "the richest for minerals in
the state," according to the dust jacket
of his book, "the poorest tor its
people."

Bethel was based on "an old
woman who had the happiest mar-
riage 1 think I've ever known," says
Dr. Ball, "although she never legallv
married. A lot of old women m
Appalachia had common-law mar-
riages because they hated laws and
they hated the State and thev didn't
ha\'e money."

Sometimes the names ot the
characters evolve from those ot real
people. Ruth O'Quin, the heroine ot
"What's in the Woods for Prett\-
Bird," has her name in common with
the three blind O'Quin sisters in Dr.
Ball's community'.

"The life he writes about is hard
and it rubs people raw," says Steve
Guthrie. "He doesn't spare his readers
that, but that's fair, because vou get
the feeling he hasn't spared the writer
much either."

Light years awav from the genteel
aura that Agnes Scott exudes. Bo
Ball's background has more m com-
mon with country- singers Loretta
Lynn or Haiik Williams than with
writers Sherwood .Anderson or
Flanner\' O'Connor, two of the
professor's favorites.

"Our father was in an accident and
couldn't work," he recalls. "So our
mother and older brothers and sisters
had to farm and work. Tliere were ten
children m all."

24 WINTER 1988

''The life he writes

about rubs people ra>v.

He doesn't spore his

readers that. But that's fair,

because you get the

feeling he hasn't spared

the writer either."

Their next tn youngest child, Bo
(the yt)ungest died shortly after birth),
was named tor his grandfather,
Bonaparte Washington Ball. The
Balls lived in a small community,
Council, in the westernmost tip of
Virginia, a coal-mining region. Only
Ive Compton's store and the post
office put the tiny cluster of houses on
the map.

The Depression was in its final
stages and the war machine in Europe
gearing up when Bo Ball was bom in
1937. Although historians commonly
credit this country's entry into the war

with ending the Depression, it
lingered in Appalachia. "We did not
have electricity until 1949. The mines
started unionizing in the late forties
and people started making some
money," Dr. Ball recalls.

Dr. Ball remembers his father
being ambitious for his children six
of them attended college. "He wanted
me to be a lawyer," Dr. Ball says,
chuckling at the thought. "It is the
last thing 1 can imagine myself doing."

His father passed on to young Bo
a love of reading. Saturdays brought
an adventure-filled ride on a creaky

bus down the mountain to Haysi, a
frontier town where on weekends, as
Dr. Ball notes, "miners came to get
over what they'd just been through
and to build up numbness for what
was coming on."

He would wait in line to see a B-
movie in the only theater, but the
main reason for going to town was to
get a book tor Sunday reading: "A new
Signet of Erskine Caldwell . . . meant
a perfect Sabbath reading in bed,
when work the adult purpose in lite
suddenly became a sin sharp as
Sunday scissors."

AGNES SCOTT MAGAZINE 25

For good measure, a Look maga-
zine suKscription in his deceased
grandfather's name provided Bona-
parte II with years of reading pleasure.

The most prominent influence as
far as higher education was his
mother's brother. This uncle died just
before an exhibition of his paintings
was to open in Brooklyn, N.Y., and
the works were shipped to the family
back in Virginia.

"We always had his paintings as
inspiration," Dr. Ball says. "He was the
first person to get a master's degree in
the county and the first to make Phi
Beta Kappa."

soon became another of Buchanan
County's Phi Beta Kappa graduates.
He attended the University of Vir-
ginia, graduating as a junior. He
received a master's degree from L^uke
University in 1960. His vita lists
DuPont, Kentucky Research and
Haggin fellowships as well as the
prestigious Woodrow Wilson Fellow-
ship, which he used to attend Duke
University. "1 was rich as a graduate
student," he smiles, "much richer than
1 was as a teacher."

He taught at a private secondai^
.school and at Eastern Kentucky
University before coming to Agnes

Scott in

Bo Ball actually planned another
career. Perhaps because he yearned to
see beyond the mountain, he initially
dreamed of the foreign service.

"I took one course from an
Iranian professor," he says, "and his
graphic descriptions of poverty in the
Middle East drove me away from
international relations." After grow-
ing up in the midst of Appalachia's
stark poverty, "I couldn't take it any
more," he admits.

Writing was something he always
wanted to do. "The impetus was the
demand from Professor Trotter
(English, 1944-77), who used to teach
the poetry classes. She told me that it
1 wanted to teach story writing I
should write," Dr. Ball says.

"She was genuinely surprised
when I gave her one of my first stories,
shortly before her death. I don't
believe she felt 1 could carry it off. She
was very much touched."

Once he started writing short
fiction. Bo Ball fairly leaped out of the
starting gate.

Best Short Stones of 1977 listed one
of his stories for distinction. The
editors followed suit in 1980 as well.
He was nominated for the Pushcart
Prr.e in 1981, 1983 and 1984, and
won m 1980 and 1986.

All this might make his craft seem
deceptively easy. Quite the opposite.
He labors over his work, sometimes
taking years to complete a single
piece. "My fiction is not easily writ-
ten," he wrote to Agnes Scott's Com-
mittee on Professional De\-elopiiicnt
in his quest for a 1990 sabbatical. "1
approach it as poetry. It has to sound
right. Syllables have to be in place.

"I would take every sentence of
the manuscripts, test them, change
them, throw them away, u rite new
ones."

Former student jane Zanca thinks
the key to Dr. Ball's success is dili-
gence. "He is so creatix'e that on his

last sabbatical, he had two typewriters
and he was going to work on one with
this thing and one with another and
switch back and forth between the
two," she says, incredulously.

"A lot of us might have started out
with that intention and ended up
reading good books and watching soap
operas."

Dr. Ball confirms that "writing is
easy to put off. It's not a natural
endeavor. It's frightening."

Maybe this is why, as a rule, Dr.
Ball treats his creative-writing stu-
dents more gingerly than he does his
first-year English or Shakespeare
students. He knows the difficulty of
their job.

"I accomplish more with the
writing student than I do with fresh-
man English," he states, matter-of-
factly. "I think the built-in guarantee
of teacher-student contact is the
reason. We can't do that with evers'
course. If we did, we certainlv
wouldn't have time for anything else."

Bo Ball champions young writers.
He oversaw the revi\'al of the Agnes
Scott Writers' Festi\-al in 1973 and
now acts as one of its sponsors. "Bo is
anxious for students' work to be the
main impetus for the Writers' Festi-
\al," says Dr. Hubert, chair oi the
English department. "He goes to ,great
lengths reading and critiquing their
w^1rk.

"1 ha\-e no doubt that it Bo
thought he had a student deserving of
it, he would personally take her or
him to the hallowed corridors of
Prentice Hall," she adds.

.As tor his student writers, I\. Ball
sees one obstacle standing m the wav
oi an illustrious publishing contract. "I
ha\'e students who are as talented as I
am and probably will go much further
than 1, but the one test is plot," he
says. "It is the hardest thing tor
students to build that beginiiing and
think of that middle and ponder that

26 WINTER

A final gift from Bo

Ball's mother^ this quilt

adorns the dust jacket of

Appalachian Patterns.

"A part of their difticulty is
revision," he explains. "They don't
have time to go hack and make the
beginnmg important to the middle,
important to the end."

In a small classroom on Buttrick
Hall's ground level. Bo Ball teaches
his other great passion, Shakespeare.
On a cool September morning he
performs for his students, trying to
incite in them an enthusiasm similar
to his own. Many times during class
he interrupts himself, pausing to offer
some aside.

He asks a student to read with

him a passage from A Midsummer
hlight's Dream. In it, two lovers talk in
the woods. While the student reads
dispassionately, almost monotonously.
Dr. Ball's voice tremors with the
hreathlessness only a true Shakespear-
ean love could inspire. It rises and falls
like a melody.

"It is fun," he says, "when you see
a student discover something in a text
it's a breakthrough."

And to that end, to creating an
environment in which breakthroughs
can occur in each student, and the
language and the stories become

living things not just for a semester
but for always. Bo Ball is committed.

So he reads Shakespeare emotion-
ally and jumps on desks and disappears
after lectures and demands his stu-
dents perform.

"Bo doesn't march to any drum-
mers with the rest of us here," explains
Jane Zanca. "He's got his own sense of
rhythm."

It you read between the lines, you
may hear it in the sounds of misty
country mornings and buses barreling
down mountain tops.

AGNES scon MAGAZINE 27

FINALE

Old-fashioned/ nev\^
events delight at
Centennial Kickoff

Ai;ni.'s Scott phinncJ a birth-
day party so hiy tor itsult,
that It had to start the
celebration a year early.

The College officially
reaches 100 on Sept. 24,
1989. But that did not stop
organizers of the Centennial
Celebration. Beginning with
a convocation incUidmg
emeriti tactilty ani.1 adminis-
trators and teattinng the first
otticial appearance by
nistinguished Centennial
Lecttirer Rosalynn Carter,
the College community w.is
feted the entire weekend ot
Sept. 2i with parties and
other celebratory actnities.

Thrown in tor good
measure were both Inxesti-
ture and Alumnae Le.ider-
ship Conference, m.iking
those occasions even more
memorable tor p.irticipants.

Tile campus was dresscil
for the parlv in testne t.ill
colors. Isanners of rich
purple, green and gold iiung
from l.imp posts; luncheon
tables sporteil wicker baskets
tiilcLl uiih shiny green apples
,ini.l decorated with purple
ribbon.

C iiiests ambled out to
lunch on the Woodrulf
Quadrangle to the sound ol
bagpipes. The same bagpiper
provided a procession.il
fanfare tor the convocation.

(."Ine former faculty
member was heard to
rem, irk, "This was the most
like ,in old-t.ishioned .Agnes
Scott d.iv."

Th.il exening ]oyce C'.irol
Cites g,i\e ,1 talk on "The
Lifeofthe Writer, The bile

Cicorf^a ha;^nj>L'r. John Rccknai^d, hcljvJ cclcltrLitc the Coifciinicil

of the C'areer," peppered
v\ith dr\ wit ,ind plent\ ot
asides from her twent\-plus
ve.ir career.

"If there is to be ,i life of
the writer, it |s firniK rooted
111 pl,i\ .ind fant.isv .ind
supreme purpi iselessness,"
she lold her .uidience. "The
c. liver IS a public im.ige. The
life of ihe writer is a work-a-
dav im.ige."

The nexl e\ening the
same sl.ige in bresser was
gi\'en over to another sort of
playfulness. The C ^.ipilol
Steps entertained ,in
audience primed b\' a
ihamp.igne and dessert p.irtv
on the Cu.idr.mgle before
I hell perlorm.ince. The
audience, however, w.is not
too s.iti.iled to enjoy their
enierl.unment.

b'ssenli.ilK .1 cabaret act,
the group c le\erl\ disguises

well-known songs by .iltenng
the Urics. For ex.imple, |ohn
Denxer's pae.in to country
li\ mg becomes "Th.ink CukI
I'm ,1 Contr.i l>iy." Now
regukirs on N.ition.il Public
R.idio, the C.ipitol Steps
evobed from .i (."hristm.is
part\ in former Illinois Sen,i-
tor (."h.irles Percy's office six
years ago. ".And like m,in\
things on Capilol 1 lill," said
their emcee, "the\'\ e spun
compleleK out of control."

The weekend closed with
,1 Sund,i\ morning worship
ser\ ICC 111 C T.uiies Cdi.ipel in
w liicli .ilumii.ie ord, lined
ministers p.irt icip.ited ,is did
the .Agnes Scott ,iiid C'teorgKi
Tech glee clubs. Pr. Is.ibel
Rogers, professor ot applied
Cdiristi.inilv ,11 the Presbvte-
ri.in School ol ydirisii.in
Hdiicition, g.u e the
morning's sermon.

Art and insight
gifts to community
during Centennial

In a twi5t on tradition,
Agnes Scott College cele-
brates its birthday, but it is
the party guests who get the
gifts.

A corporate gift made it
possible for faculty, staff and
students to attend Atlanta's
High Museum ot Art tree cm
Wednesday nights.

The College will provide
bookmarks and poster-
calendars free ot charge also,
but tor thcise who want a
little something extra, there
will be Centennial watches.
Centennial yard signs and
other premiums available
through the Office ot
.Alumnae Affairs.

For gifts ot the more
esoteric \ arietv, there will be
speeches and lectures by a
\arietv ot not.ibles, including
Bii.^toJi Glubc syndicated
columnist and Pulitrer Prize
winner Ellen Coodman to
wr.ip up the celebration next
fall.

In between, the values
symposium will bciast such
names as Martin Martv of
the L nnersitv oi Cdiicagci
,ind Har\ ard L nnersitv's
Robert C'oles. .imong luhers.

.A series ot Pistinguished
.Alumnae lectures will dcu
the schedule throughcxit the
ve.ir, and spring will bloom
w ith a weekKing testn ,il cif
the arts.

For thcise planning to at-
tend .Alumnae \\ eekend this
year, savs Carolvn \\ vnens.
director cif the Centennial
CA'lebratioii. "It is destined
tc-> be the biggest and best
exerl"

28 WINfER I'

FINALE

Leadership confer-
ence proves 'much
to offer' at ASC

"It It were possible to begin
life over again," says Elsie
West Duval '38, enthusiasti-
cally, "this would still be my
choice tor college."

Elsie Duval and others at-
tending Alumnae Leadership
Conference this year found
much to celebrate in Agnes
Scott. In addition to the
conference, the College was
kicking oft its yearlong
Centennial Celebration and
hosting senior parents for
Investiture Weekend.

The conference began
with a Friday afterntion
garden party tor seniors and
their parents.

At that evening's opening
session, senior Allison
Adams gave a presentation
on the Centennial Oral

History Project. From Rabun
Gap, Ga., her previous
experience with the Foxtire
Project served her in good
stead as she inter\iewed o\er
fifty alumnae and retired
faculty this summer.

Dean of the College Ellen
Wood Hall '67 related devel-
opments in the College's
.icademic program. The aca-
demic ciimpLiter program,
new science equipment and
writing workshop, and the
Kresge challenge grant for
the fine arts, among others,
keep her and her staff busy.

On Saturday, the program
moved to the Wallace M.
Alston Campus Center,
where many alumnae saw for
the first time the "nev\" old
gym. There, President
Schmidt, Assistant Professor
of Theatre .md Centennial
C'elebration Co-tdiair Becky
Prophet and Centennial

Campaign Co-Chairs Mary
and Larry Gellerstedt gave
progress reports on the
Centennial Campaign and
Celebration.

A SatLirday luncheon
honored past presidents of
the .Alumnae Association. In
keeping with the Centennial
spirit, each shared anecdotes
about her tenure.

Conference participants
had fun, but they also
buckled down for seruuis
work. There were five
simultaneous workshops tor
ckiss officers, club officers,
alumnae admissions reps,
fund chairs and career
pianninj^ \'olunteers.
Participants learned the nuts
anil bolts of their areas and
how they Ht into the total
picture, ready to take their
newfound expertise back
home. Lucia Howard
Sizemore '65

Alumnae leaders join m celehratum festivkiei before /luckling (ioicn to Saturday's workload.

Journey of Czars
views Russia before
the Revolution

H\er had .i h.inkering to see
the prc-Revolutionary Russia
immortalized in the movies
Nicholas and Alexandra and
Dr. Zhwago^ Agnes Scott's
Alumnae Office is offering a

trip to the So\'iet Llnion
called "Journey of the C^rars"
that features excursions to
Moscow and Leningrad and
a cruise up the Volga River.

Highlights include three
nights in Moscow; a tour of
the Kremlin; a six-night
cruise aboard the M.S.
Alexander Pushkin, which
disembarks at Devushkm
Island, Togliatti, Ulyano\'sk
and Kazan; and three nights
in Leningrad, home to the
czar's Winter Palace (now
the Hermitage Museum);
and much more.

All transportation, hotels,
meals, sightseeing and
special events are included
in the package. The toLir
leaves from New York on
lune 30, 1989. Prices begin
at $2899 per person, based
on double occupancy.

For more information,
contact Agnes Scott College
Alumnae Office, 133 South
Candler, Decatur, Ga.,
K\130, orcall(404) 371-
6325.

AGNES scon MAGAZINE 29 I

CALENDAR

c

^

/

A G

r I

N

: N N I

E S

A L

SCO

It

1^^

r j^

H

1

m

{m

4^

DEC

1 -

Agnes Scott College

FEB. 9,

8:15 p.m. FEB. 22

3:00 p.m.

MAY

20

Exhibit

10,11

Agnes Scott Blackfriars Continued

Svmposium Panel Discussion

Atlanta Historical Society

16,17

Theatre Production

"How Values Are Trans-

18

"The Dining Room"

mitted To Women Today"

JAN.

24

8:15 p.m.

Winter Theatre, Dana Fine

Panelists: Anita Pampusch,

Eugene Istoinin, rianM

Arts Building

President, College of St.

Gaines Auditorium,

Catherine, and Chair,

Presser Hall

Women's College Coalition;

FEB. 22.

Symposium "Values For

Johnnetta Cole, President,

JAN.

25

10:25 a.m.

23,24

Tomorrow: How

Spelman College; Linda

Distinguished Alumnae

Shall We Live.'"

Lorimer, President,

Lecture Series

Randolph-Macon Woman's

Dr. Frances E. Anderson '6^

College

Professor of Art,

FEB. 22

10:45 a.m.

Moderator: Ruth Schmidt

Florida State University

Founder's Day Convocation

Gaines .Auditorium,

Gaines Auditorium,

Keynote Address

Presser Hall

Presser Hall

Dr. Martin Marty,

Fairfax M. Cone FEB. 23

3:30 p.m.

JAN.

29 -

ln\it,itional Art Exhibit

Distinguished Service

X'alues m Education Panel

FEB.

25

PrawinL; and Printni.ikin.ti

Professor and Professor of the

Discussion

Artists: Pain Lonyobardi,

History of Modern

Sergio Munoz, Executn e

Ann Lindell, Joe Sander-.

Christianity,
University of Chicago

Editor, La Opinion; Michael
Novak, Resident Scholar

JAN.

29

2:00-4:30 p.m.

Gaines Auditorium,

and Director of Social and

Opening Reception

Presser Hall

Political Studies, .American

(Calvert Johnson and friends

Enterjsnse Institute; Gayle

perform a program of

1:30 p.m.

Pemherton, Director oi

chamber music

Excepts from "Out of Our

Minontv .Affairs. Boudoin

with harpsichord)

Father's House" and

College; Jerome Harris.

Opens ncwiv reno\atcd

"Personal Reflections on the

Superintendent of .Atlanta

DaltonOallerv,

Transmission ot Values

City Schools

Dana Fine Arts Bmldinu

for Women," Rosalynn
Carter, Distinguished
Centenni.il Lecturer

Moderator: Ellen Hall
Gaines .Auditcirium,
Pres,ser Hall

30 WINTER 1988

CAL ENDAR

CELEBRATION

T COLLEGE

7:30 p.m.

Robert Coles, Professor of

Psychiatry in Medical

Humanities,

Harvard University

Gaines Auditorium,

Presser Hall

10:45 a.m.

Convocation, "Business
and Ethics: Are They
Compatible?"
Gaines Auditorium,
Presser Hall

12:00 p.m.

Case Study Workshop
Business Ethics
Gaines Auditorium,
Presser Hall

7:00 p.m.

Closing Session

Dr. Rosabeth Kanter,

Professor, Harvard University
Business School
and Dr. Barry Stein,
President of Goodmeasure,
Inc., a management
consulting firm

8:15 p.m.

Faculty Voice Recital
Rowena Renn, soprano
Presser Hall

MARCH 2 8:15 p.m.

Dolphin Club Water Show
Robert W. Woodruff Physical
Activities Building

MARCH 3, Sophomore Parents
4, 5 Weekend

MARCH 5-
APRIL 9

MARCH 5

MARCH 7

MARCH 9

Art Exhibit

"Art of Asking," photo-
graphic exhibition
documenting traditional
devotional arts of Catholic
Texas Mexicans

2:00-4:30 p.m.

Opening Reception
Dalton Gallery, Dana Fine
Arts Building

8:15 p.m.

Student Music Recital

Anita Pressley, Laura Brown,

Julie DeLeon, Deborah

Manigault

Maclean Auditorium,

Presser Hall

8:15 p.m.

The Nina Wiener Dance

Company

Gaines Auditorium,
Presser Hall

To reserve theatre tickets, call 371-6248.
For tickets to other events, call 371-6430.

Dalton Gallery hours are Monday thmugh
Friday, 9 a.m. to 9 p.m., Saturday and
Sunday, 1 to 5 p.m.

The Atlanta Historical Society is open
Monday through Saturday from 9 a.m. to
5:30 p.m. and Sunday from 12 to 5 p.m.

Please arrive early for events to be directed
to available parking. Handicapped access is
available.

Events for speakers subject to change due to
circumstances beyond the College's control.
For general information concerning the
activities, call the Centennial Celebration
office, 371-6326.

AGNES scon MAGAZINE 3 '

im^^m^^

OUT THE WINDOW

For the first time, the Council for the
Advancement and Support of
Education has honored Agnes Scott
College's Alumnae Magazine with
one of three gold medals for overall
excellence in college magazines. The
competition included entries from
colleges and divisions of universities
throughout the country.

Tlie magazine also won honors for
cover design. The Winter 1988 issue,
featuring a hand-tinted archival
photograph of Appalachia set on a
black background, won a gold medal
for cover design. The Spring 1988
issue with artist Theo Rudnak's
illustration on women in science
earned a bronze medal.

An article on Protessc)r Bo Ball, alsn
in the Winter 1988 issue, won a
silver medal for David Guggenheim's
photography and for overall feature presentation.

CASE also honored Agnes Scott's total publications
program with a gold medal, making this the first year the
college has won top honors for the magazine and the
publications program.

I especially want to thank Stacey Noiles, managing
editor, and P. Michael Melia and Mark Steingruber,
who art direct and design the magazine. The magazine
taps, challenges and sometimes frazzles all of our skills
and patience as we work together to create each issue.

It is often in the midst of frustration that some of our
best ideas emerge, if we recognize them. In working on
the last issue, we decided to use a cover photo showing a
coal miner coming home to his family. Artist Julia

Mueller-Brown duplicated the
photograph, printed it on water-
color paper, then hand-tinted the
photo to give it more life-like
tones. But the coloring was so deli-
cate that all of the background
colors we considered seemed
overpowering.

The designers suggested a black
background, but a solid black ink
seldom prints well over areas as
large as our cover and back cover.
Then Mike Melia tried using
photographs of black paper or black
fabric, hoping a more textured
image would allow enough vari-
ation in the black tones. Neither
option worked.

Meanwhile, the rest ot the
magazine was nearly ready tor press.
One night, about three days before
we were scheduled to hand over the publication to the
printer, I dreamed we photographed a bed of coal. The
next day, I mentioned the idea to Stacey Noiles, but 1
hesitated to suggest it to the designers.

Mike Melia called the following morning. "I've got
the solution to the cover," he said excitedly. "Let's shoot
a bed of coal. There's a photographer who lives in our
building who has just done an industrial shoot. He has
the coal in his studio, and he can ha\e the photii done
in an hour."

We felt it was our best cover yet, and we were gratified
to see it win a gold medal. This issue has no strange
stories to go with it, but we hope vou enjov it anvway.
Lynn Donham

Editor; Lynn Honliiim, Manasjinf; Editor: Stiiccy Nuik's, Art Director: P, MrIi.icI Mcli.i, Editorial Assistant: .Aiv^clic .-Xlt.Tvi

Student Assistants: Allen;i Wmx-n '^'>0. Michelle- Cook '91, Louisii Tiirkcr 'S*^', Editorial Advisory Board: Cicor..:c Brown.

Ayse Wndz C'arden '66, (.Christine C^o-ens, Siisnn Ketclim Ed,t;erton '70, Kiircn Clreen '86, Stc\cn (.uithrie, Bonnie Brown Johnson 'lO,

Randy Jones '70, Eli:;iheth ll.illnian Snit:er 'MS, Tl^h Youni; Mcrutchcn '7i, Beckv Trophet, PuJIev Sanders.

[idnuind Slieeliey, Luci.i How.ird Sizemore '6S,

Copyrii^hr I'^SQ, Af^nes Scott College. Published three time^ ;i ye.ir hv the C.XtKe ,it Piihlicitions, .Aj^nes Scott Collcize. Puttnck Hall.

Collet^e Avenue, necatur, OA 300 k1, 404/^7 1-6 MS. The magazine is published tor alumn.ie and triends of the CoUcsze. rostmastcr: Send

address chanties to Office of Development and Public .affairs, A^nes Scott t^olleye, Decatur, GA 30030, Like other content ot the

inat;a:ine, this article reflects the opinion of the writer and not the viewpoint of the College, its tmstccs, or administration.

About the artwork: These illiislr.itions ,ind pboioi;i,iphs were pnn ided bv the :irtists represented bv .Me\ander/Tollard, Dax id Cnissenheim

photoj^r.iphed the inleni;ition;il Miidenls, 1 iiuK Biirnelt cre:ited the coll,ii;e of items from .ic.ideniic life, and Chervl (."ooper painted the

poiii.iil ol Prolessor Miriam Prucker ,ind the co\er illiistr.ition.

TURNABOUT

CONTENTS

In an issue of the alumnae magazine
that stresses "Getting It Write" and (on
page 14) accurate and careful writing, I
would think that you would take special
pains to insure [sic] "careful accuracy."
Consequently, I call your attention
on page five (lower right) to a non-
existent adverb, "contently," which
should be "contentedly;" and (on page
14) a few lines above the discussion of
"accurate and careful writing" the
misspelled word, "grammer."

Shirley Christian Ledgerwood '36
Palo Alto, Cahf.

We obviously "got it wrong" in those tivo
instances. Would you believe us if we said
we were testing our readers^

Susan Medlock's interesting article,
"Getting It Write," quotes advice said
to be given by William Faulkner to a
class in writing at the University ot
Mississippi.

John P. Marquand, in the foreword
to his book, Thirty Years, attributes to
Sinclair Lewis a quite similar admoni-
tion to students at Columbia Univer-
sity.

I don't know which statement is
accurate. Perhaps both are apocryphal.

By the way, in Marquand's version ot
the incident, Mr. Lewis did not find it
necessary to punctuate his advice with
profanity.

Mary Frances Guthrie Brooks '39
Cape Elizabeth, Me.

1 thought the article "Questions of
Value" in the recent alumnae magazine
was particularly interesting and well-
written, but I was sorely disappointed
that Dr. Brueggemann's name was
misspelled.

Jo Hmchey Williams '55
Houston, Texas

My compliments and deepest gratitude
to the alumnae magazine staff for the
Winter 1988 issue. It was a beautiful
contribution to my holiday reading. 1

Continued on Page 5

Cover artwork is an oil painting of
spring on the Agnes Scott campus.

Agnes Scott Alumnae Magazine

AGNES scon

Spring 1989 Volume 67, Number 1

Page 8

Reflections on
Academic Life

Page 16

A Mandate for
the Twenty-First
Century

Page 18

The Student
Teacher

Page 22

The Ambassadors
of Agnes Scott

As Dean of the College
Ellen Hall heads for the
presidency of Converse
College, she writes on
X^ the life of teaching.

In the heady celebration
of Agnes Scott's first
century, Ruth Schmidt
shares her vision for
the next.

Through every conver-
sation , in every class ,
Dr. Miriam Drucker
teaches her students
for life.

The international
students on campus
spend a lot of time
learning about the U.S.
This article turns the
spotlight on them.

Page 4
Lifestyles

Page 30
Finale

AGNES scon MAGAZINE 3

LIFESTYLES

Faith seeds second
career in Africa as
nurse missionary

M.n-N Aichcl
Samt.irJ '4^' anJ
luT hnsKind,
CJliLick, were lakini; Aratiie
at Emory Llniversity in
preparation tor thcMr mission
work in Sudan. When a
Presbyterian church ofticial
called with a change ot
plans, Mary Samtord's reac-
tion was characteristically
enthusiastic: "They asked it
we woLild like to uo to Mala-
wi instead of Sutkin. 1 said,
'WeVHovelo-^o to Malawi!
where is ii '' "

Malawi, tiiev leamei,!, is
in central Africa, north ot
Mo:amhique. From 1979 to
1988, it w,is home for Mary
and Chuck Samtord.

They left Malawi when
Chuck Samtord retired .it
sixty-five. Rack m then-
home in Decatur, Cia., they
spend their time makinu
plans for speeches ,intl |ire-
sentalions lo church groups;
catching up with family and
friends; and savtiring
memories of their years m
Malawi, "the warm heart ol
Africa," Mrs. Samford says.

After earning her degree
in Bible at Agnes Scott,
Mrs. Samford taught in
Jacksonx'ille, Fla., tor two
years. When she and C hiR 1
married, she dex'oted her
energies lo re.iring .i lanuK
She lelurned lo thecl.iss-
room 111 ihe lale 1960s,
teaching Bible studies in
tour different schools in the
lacksoin ille area. "1 covered
aboiii forty miles each d.iy,"
she tec, ills. "1 was a sort ot
circuit rider."

She continued to teach
m Jacksonville "until we
re.illy felt led to get into
mission work. Without ever
t. liking about it with each
other, we both bad a feeling
tor Africi."

Mrs. Samtord runs a
freckled hand through her
short, white b.ur ,is she
recalls their decision to seek
missicinary appointment in
Africa. "Chuck read some
ads about the need for hy-
draulic engineers in Mada-
gascar. He only h.kl his
bachelor's degree m ci\il
engineering, ani.1 one day he
said to me, 'What would you
think if 1 went b.ick to
school'' 1 said, 'gulp.' We
h,id two boys in college and
one in high school. Our
daughter (Margaret Samford
Day '75) was .ilready mar-
ried."

After that initi.il hesita-
tion, she mo\'eil forward

Mary Aicht'l Samfnrd: A
L< immnmcnt to nursing the
hurti I if Africa's children

" THERE IS A PRIDE

IN DEVELOPING

COUNTRIES. THEY

WANT PEOPLE TO

HAVE SOMETHING

TO SHARE."

with :eal. In 1976, the
Samtords sold their Jackson-
\ille hi>me and moved to
.Atlanta. Her husband
returned to Georgia Tech to
work on a master's in
hydraulic engineering.

Mrs. Samford, mean-
while, decided that "it would
be advantagec^us tor me to
have something more than
just Bible. There is a certain
pride in these developing
countries. They want people
to have something to share,"
she says, her gestures punc-
tuating her statements.
"And I'd always been
interested in nursing."

So, while her husband
attended Tech, she began
the two-vear course ot
study at age 49 that
would earn her a bachelor of
science in nursing from
Emor\'.

Obtaining the license
necessan.- to use her nursme

ChiMrcn playinj:, m a rijiphnj^ stream jnescnt an iiliiiii.vt iiKllic /iictwrc. Bin lLs a nurse m Apnea. Wary
Samford found such beauty deeejnive . diseases eanied in stream waters caused many illnesses.

I 4 SPRING 1989

LIFESTYLES

Sume of Mrs. Samjurd's most cherished memnrtes are uj the pediatrics ward. "The kid.s sure made it
all worthwhile."

skills in Malawi proved dif-
ficult. "When I applied," she
says, "I didn't realize that the
rules required you to have
three years of nursinjj
school. They said, 'Sorry,
you don't qualify.' " She
leans forward, hand on her
forehead, and groans,
"Ohhhh! All that work. 1
couldn't believe it."

She refused to accept it.
She explained to officials
that she had, in fact, had six
years of college training,
twice as much as required.
The result: a provisional
license; one month's work in
the local hospital and Mary
Samford was duly licensed as
a nurse in Malawi.

During the eight and a
half years she and Chuck
lived in Malawi, he helped
solve water problems, offer-
ing his services to all Chris-
tian missions, not just Pres-
byterian ones. His work took
him on trips into the
interior. "Occasionally I got

While a missionary nurse ,
Mrs. Samford started a hlnod-
mobile and blood hank.

to go with him. I loved
going out into the country,
really out," Mrs. Samford
says. But her own work otten
kept her at home. She made
good use of the nursing skills
she worked so hard to
obtain. She helped establish
a successful blood bank
the first in the country. But

memory of her work on the
hospital's pediatrics ward
brings a special glow to her
face and the sheen of tears
to her eyes.

"So many ot the kids
were in there such a long
time, weeks months. For
TB. Broken limbs. And
polio. . . ." Her hands are
momentarily still, her eyes
focused on the past. "They
still have polio. . . . And
bums." Her quick intake of
breath accentuates the
tragedies she has seen.
"Mothers cook over char-
coal fires and leave the kids
unattended. The bums are
horrible."

Mary Samford is lost for a
few seconds in unspoken
memories. With a bitter-
sweet smile she returns to
the present. "The kids sure
made it all worthwhile."
A.R. Gibbons

A.R. Gibbons is an Atlanta
free-lance iiriter.

Letters

( I'lKinid'J/rimi pa^e 3

especially enjoyed the
Professor Ball portrait and
"Questions of Value." These
two articles renewed my
pleasure in having received
a liberal arts education at
Agnes Scott. 1 commend my
alma mater.

Emily Moore 'SO
Tallahassee, Fla.

In the Spring 1988 issue ot
the magazine, Sheryl A.
Roehl makes quite a point
in licr article, "Subtle
Strength," that the Rev.
Joanna Adams is the first
non-alumna woman to serve
as a trustee of Agnes Scott
College. This is not true;
the first non-alumna woman
was elected to the board on
Oct. 17, 1917!

Check Dr. McNair's
history of the College. On
pages 56-57 and 360, you'll
find that one of the first
three women elected to the
board was a non-alumna,
Mildred McPheeters Inman.
She served on the board
until her death in 1947 and
was vice-chairman for over
twenty ot those years.

While I'm delighted with
Ms. Adams' election to the
board, I think that a non-
alumna woman who served
as a trustee for thirty years
deserves not to be over-
looked as the current board
and administration pat
themselves on the back tor
an action which was
actually taken over seventy
years ago!

Sam M . /mnun
Greenville, S.C.

AGNES scon MAGAZINE 5

LIFESTYLES

Air controller flies
to job freedom,
nev/ experiences

For Lu Ann Ferguson,
career aspirations had
nothing to do with the
psychology degree she
received in 1982. "Psychol-
ogy was just a nice subject to
study. It was very interesting
and all. But I knew I didn't
want to be the next college
psychology professor," the
29-year-old Franklin, Ky.,
native concedes.

"After 1 got out ot school,
I waited tables and worked a
hotel registration desk," she
recalls.

Air traftic control was
then a highly publicized job
because of the strike by
Professional Air Traftic
t'ontrollers Organizations,
which eventually led to
1 ,400 federal employees
being Hred.

Ms. Ferguson remembers,
"That was in the news all
the time. 1 said. That would
be something I could do.' "

It's the job she has been
doing for almost six years.
She and her husband ot tour
years Randal Johns, also
an air traffic controller
work at the Fort Worth Au
Traffic Control Center in
Euless, Texas.

Among other tasks, her
job IS to monitor airplane
flights on radar. She keeps
radio contact with the pilots
after they leave an airport
until they approach another
facility or leave the region.
The building where she and
other controllers work has
no windows. Light interferes
with visibility on the radar
screen. But these people are.

in a sen.se, eyes for the pilots.

"The pilots can't see very
far outside the cockpit. If
they are in the clouds, they
can't see at all. They rely on
LIS to get them on the
ground," says Ms. Ferguson.

Working near the Dallas-
Fort Worth airport, the
world's fourth-busiest, keeps
Ms. Ferguson moving at a
rapid pace. The federal
facility covers portions of
Texas, New Mexico, Okla-
homa, Arkansas and Louisi-
ana. She is responsible for
air traftic in the Central
Texas area.

"You can't do it all your-
self if you are very busy," she
says. "You need a helper
who does the paper work. In
this area, you usually don't
work more than 15 [planes].
And with that, you are
busy."

She enjoys her job

because it coffers a different
experience each day and
gives her the freedom to do
what she was trained for.
She's not constantly report-
ing to a super\'isor, she says.
"I've been trained. I use my
judgment. I don't have to
deal with the higher-ups
unless 1 screw up."

Although no planes have
had serious trouble in her

"I'VE BEEN
TRAINED. I USE
MY JUDGMENT. I
DON'T HAVE TO
DEAL WITH THE

HIGHER-UPS

UNLESS I SCREW

UP."

territory, Ms. Ferguson
recalls she was shaken when
a militar\- jet carr\'ing a
flight instructor and a
student pilot crashed after
leaving her region. "I
thought, '1 was just talking
to them, and now they are
dead.' "

The Dallas-Fort Worth
Airport has been the kxa-
tion of two airplane disasters
in recent years. In August
1988, 14 of the 108 people
aboard Delta Air Lines
Flight 1141 were killed
upon takeoff. On Aug. 2,
1985, a Delta jumbo jet
crashed on approach, killing
137 people.

Evidence ftom the 1985
crash suggested that an air
traftic controller warned the
pilot against flying into
thundercloud lightning. It
was Ms. Ferguson's husband
who told the pilot to take

6 SPRING 1989

LIFESTYLES

another route. The pilot

Learning to learn

P^K

belief her family gave her:

flew into the storm anyway,

helps bring

that women can succeed at

she says.

corporate success

j^^^^H^

anything.

"Randal telt really had

^^^^^^^^r.

"Scott was an intellectu-

ahout that for days. I had to

As executive vice presi-

^^HL

ally challenging place and

convince him that it wasn't

/Vjent, corporate secre-

.jUI ^^^^^H|

an exciting place to see

his fault," she recalls.

# \tary and general

Hmr*" "'^''^^H

women dam near doing ev-

Ms. Ferguson confesses

counsel of Bancorporation,

^B mJ^ J^^^I

erything," she says.

that her initial contact with

a Birmingham, Ala., bank

^BL ''''''^^^IJI

While Ms. Campbell

federal officials is a mystery.

holding company, Maria

' ^^^ j^^^^^fl

found the intellectual exper-

Without applying, she and

Bouchelle Campbell '63

^""MflPfek^

ience challenging, social life

three other students in her

rarely neglects to read both

^^^ ""w |HH

on campus during the sixties

class received an application

the bold and the fine print.

H^^P ^^H

was tocT repressive. Students

for the controller position in

As general counsel, Ms.

^^V .^H

were required to double date

the mail after graduation.

Campbell heads the firm's

^^H' i^^l

and drinking was prohib-

She passed the examination

legal department, composed

^^H. ,^H

ited even in the company

in July 1982 and was hired

of nine lawyers and support

i^^H\. .. ^^M

of one's parents at home.

in Fehmary 1983.

staff. As corporate secretary'.

Waria Bouchelle Campbell, a

"That's unrealistic," she

After a three-month

she is custodian of corporate

are three-tiered job for a

says. "Life is not that way

screening program, she was

records and preparer of

voman in corporate business

. . . having someone looking

transferred to the facility in

proxy statements. As execu-

over your shoulder so you

Euless for a three-and-a

tive vice president, which

Sorbonne and eventually

will not make the wrong

half-year training period.

she calls a "wonderful extra-

ivorking at the United

choice."

The Euless facility has sepa-

added attraction," she is a

Mations. But finances forced

She IS pleased to hear

rate responsibilities from the

member of the company's

^er to consider another

that quite a bit has changed

D-FW airport towers, but

executive committee, which

rareer option law.

socially at Agnes Scott in

both work to keep the air-

sets policy.

To qualify for an acceler-

the intervening 2 5 years.

ways safe.

It is rare to find a woman

ited honors program in law

Aside from her corjxirate

Ms. Ferguson begins

holding this chree-tiered

It the University of Georgia,

responsibilities, Ms. Camp-

monitoring a plane's flight

position.

Vis. Campbell left Agnes

bell is incoming president of

when it is 40 miles from the

Since leaving Agnes

Scott, before receiving her

the Children's Aid Society,

Dallas-Fort Worth airport.

Scott in 1963, Ms. Camp-

Jegree, to establish a one-

an organization that meets

She also monitors incoming

bell has hopscotched her

'ear residency requirement

the special needs of families

planes. She keeps the planes

way through the University

n Athens.

with children in a five-coun-

at a minimum lateral separa-

of Georgia's law school, a

Ms. Campbell considers

ty area of north central

tion of five miles. In addi-

private practice in tax and

ler liberal arts education at

Alabama. She has been a

tion, she tells pilots what

corporate law, and escalat-

"^gnes Scott an excellent

member of the society for 1 5

speed to travel so that dis-

ing jobs at Bancorporation.

oundation tor executive

years.

tance will remain constant.

A bank holding com-

Jecision-making. In fact,

As Ms. Campbell looks

"Rarely do you work two

pany owns banks and other

wo-thirds of the Bancor-

to the future, she anticipates

hours without a break,"

bank-related businesses.

-loration's top 20 officers

challenges both professional

Ferguson says. "If you sit

Bancorporation owned

lave liberal arts back-

and personal. "The banking

there and you look at a

some 20 Alabama banks

grounds.

industry is continuing to

green scope [for too long]

until last year, when the

"The ability to learn to

change and evolve. My

your eyes start to glaze

separate institutions merged

ead, analyze, think, ask

challenge is to stay on top of

over." David Ellison

to become AmSouth. Ban-

.luestions, to relate one

that and help our institution

corporation also owns one

uhject to another is some-

to meet those challenges."

bank in Florida.

hing for which I give Agnes

Gale Horton

Houston writer David Ellisorx

During her three years at

Scott a lot of credit," says

last wrote a feature on

Agnes Scott, Ms. Campbell

Vis. Campbell.

Margaret Beain for the Spring

was a French major with

She also credits Agnes

Gale Horton is an Atlanta

'88 Agnes Scott Magazine

dreams of studying at the

Scott with reinforcing the

free-lance writer.

AGNES scon MAGAZINE 7

As she moves to greater challenges in
higher education^ Ellen Hall soon presi-
dent of Converse College muses on the
labor of love that is academia.

:rections
on academic life

N G DEAN

I became a dean at a liberal
^rts college for one reason: I haci been
a faculty member at one, Westminster
College in Pennsylvania. My love for the acaclemic
life in the liberal arts college was, and is, deep.

SPRING 1989

AGNES SCOTT AAAGAZINE 9

Working with human heings onc-
on-one is a key to much human
success, and certainly is the heart of
the liberal arts college. My own field
of literary criticism gives me a thrill,
as does an elegant demonstration in
physics.

All the same, my lite as a faculty
member was often tough and lonely.

Even though my colleagues were
helpful, 1 often felt that 1 was hang-
ing out there by myself, without
anyone caring or thinking that 1 w,is
making a difference.

On one occasion, 1 bought my
own computer and worked so haixl
on one institutional grant proposal
that I swore I would ne\'er do it
again. My administrators were sup-
portive, and ultimately responded to
my needs, but 1 was still out there by
myself. At the time I never realized
that my academic training and my
colleagues' might be at odds with
my task, or that I myself might be at
fault, or that the dean had too much
work and too many people repotting
to him.

So, in the tradition ot liberal arts
colleges, 1 decided a job needed to be
elone. Things become possible in
liberal arts colleges because everyone
pitches in and does some part ot
every job. I would become a dean
because faculty life needed support,
teamwork, and some sense that we
were all in this together. 1 called it
"institutional thinking." Academic
administration should be the "art ot
the possible" tor everyone.

After 1 came to Agnes Scott as a
dean, 1 discovered another factor m
the equatiim iif academic coopera-
tion. Graduate schools train students
to work alone and to be selt-sufti-
cient. l">nce they become professors,
they often do not know how nor
do they care to work with others.
For so many years they have fine-
tuned their skills to become inde-
pendent, original scholars. Sinne,
when they come to a liberal arts
college, teel diminished because thev
are not original .schitlars in research
universities. They resist endea\'ors
that require teamwitrk. They cannoi
understand that in the liberal arts
college, working together is as im-
portant as working alone.

One is never bored in the liberal
irts college; tired, yes, but not bored.

ON GRANTS &
THE TEACHING PROCESS

Professors Sandra Row den and
r.itncia White were already in the
grace period, the single extra i.lay the
National Science Foundation had
given them, the day when twenty
copies of the $125,400 proposal had
to be postmarked. It was 7:55 p.m.
Federal Express offices, seven miles
away, would close at 8:30. Ruby
Perry-Adams, coordinator tor Office
Services, helped in the hurr\' to get
the 55-page proposal together.

This area of research was new tor
the two biology professors, but this
was their .second big collaborative
proposal this year. For three nuMiths
they had read and pondered, written
and re\'ised.

Although faculty membets discuss
theit ideas with the dean and other
officers, each officer must gi\e
appro\-al from the academic, budget-
ary and development points ot view.
Does the project fit within the
academic program ot the College?
Does it ha\'e a sound budget' Is it
appropriate to seek funds from this
agency or foundation.' The presi-
dent's signature indicates the Col-
lege's commitment to the project.

Finally, all was ready. At 8:00 p.m.
the professors jumped intct the car
and headed for Federal Express. Thev
caught every red light. At 8:Z6, the
two professors handed the giant
package to the patient delivery
agent, who whisked it away to the
National Science Foundation in
Washington.

Why bother? Why push so h,ii\l
on a research pmposal' Isn't tacultx
lite about teaching? Shouldn't
faculty prepare tor class and intentct
with students?

Often we in the academic profes-
sions ask ourselves these questions.
For me, academic life is about learn-
ing. Most of us chose to teach
because learning gives us a thrill. I
learn, have learned how t(5 learn,
and am in the business of helping
others to learn.

A research project, funded
through a proposal for equipment,
research assistants, a typist or a
stipend, offers the professor a new
learning experience. The professor
becomes expert in a certain area.
Becoming more knowledgeable
enriches his or her teaching, even
though the research project and the
teaching may not directly relate to
one another.

Teaching triggers ideas tor re-
search. A student asks a question. A
new idea floats through my head. 1
write It down after class. Teaching
increases the depth and resonance
ot one's understanding.

THE TIME OF A TEACHER

As an undergraduate at .Agnes
Scott and as a graduate student at
Btvn Mawr, I thought I spent a lot
of time studying. I had no idea
what kind ot time teaching would
demaiid!

There is no going home at five
o'clock. .A prcifessor ma\ spend the
entire summer or holiday break
preparing or revising a single course.
Beyond the primar\' course works,
one must know the critical litera-
ture in the field. What in our librar\-
can the student use tor research?
What iieeds to be ordered ? What
audio-visual materials are available?
E\ erv field astronomy, mathemat-
ics, ,Mt histor\\ Latin .-Kmerican
studies has a different set ot
problems to soke before the student
enters the picture. Onlv finishing

10 SPRING 1989

AGNES SCOTT FACULTY
PROFESSIONAL DEVELOPMENT PROHLE

1987-88

End of Reporting Period March 31,1 988
(59 full-time, 6 part-time faculty reporting)

PROFESSIONAL OUTPUT

1. Publications

Accepted

Published

for Publication

Books

1

8

Articles

25

19

Reviews

18

5

Abstracts

Stories

2

Poetry

1

Editing

2

TOTAL: 81

2. Performances,

exhibitions, productions

Choreography,

Indiv. performance

Related

curation, direction

exhibition, recitals

tech. activities

Dance

7

5

2

Music

12

11

Theatre

10

2

18

Art

4

14

Athletics

6

2

TOTAL: 74

3. Professional activities for non-College audiences and organizations

a. Evaluating, judging, jur^'ing, reviewing - 29

b. Consulting, visiting specialist - 24 '

c. Organizing, assisting, coordinating - 24

d. Presentations, demonstrations, interviews, lectures - 27

TOTAL: 104

AGNES scon MAGAZINE 1

touches are added to courses on a
day-to-day basis. TTie real work has
<,'()nc on durinL! the "breaks."

Then there are papers to yrade,
or student art works to judf,'e, or
laboratory results to evaluate. A
professor may ^o home at 3 p.m. or
come in at noon, but outside the
cla.ssroom many other tasks await.
The professor's commitinent to
evaluation is multiplied by the
number of students. Sometimes, a
student's grade is clear. Other
times, assigning a grade is a wrench-
ing decision.

As a teacher, one is always aware
of how the world echoes one's disci-
pline. Whenever I teach medieval
French literature, I am always look-
ing for examples in everyday life
which show that chivalry, one of
France's most lasting contributions
to Western civilization, is not dead.

In fact, its chauvinist attitudes
continue to hold women down
even today.

ON ENJOYING
LEARNING

Recently, one faculty member
described teaching this way:

To me , teaching is not only the
communication of the "methcjds" and
"jacts" of [my fieldj. /t is the encour-
agement of a lifetime enjoyment of
lean\ing, the application of what is
lea-n\ed to jmvate and public lives, the
ahilit'^ to question critically and to
evaliuite, the ability to admire and to
appreciate, to feel iiujuisitive and have
discipline, to sustain this curiosity as
one seeks answers, to feel passion
about an intellectual endeavor, to
teach the heart how to experience that

PROFESSIONAL ACTIVITIES

1987-88

I PROFESSIONAL ASSOCIATIONS

Int'l.

National

Regional

State

Local

PROFESSIONAL ACHIEVEMENT

L Recognition - 5

2. Awards - 3

3. Grants (ASC)- 12
4- Fellowships - 1

5. Honoraria - 1

6. Membership - 2

Meetings

Presentations

Offices

attended

given

held

8

5

65

17

7

39

13

7

22

4

6

23

4

8

157

43

28

7. Grants (outside agencies) - 8

8. Tenure awarded - 3

9. Visiting professor - 3

10. Sabbatical approved - 3

1 1. Promotion - 2

12. Ph.D. awarded - 1

TOTAL: 44

which the intellect learru so much more
readily and quite often so well. Only a
part of this kirui of learning goes on in
the classroom. If it is to be effective, it
has to permeate the entire atmosphere of
the learning environment.

Therefcjre, I see my teaching as being
very important in the classrcjom as well
as out of the classroom . in frnmal
learning environments as well as m all
the infrjrmal encounters and ey:penences
out of the classroom.

ON TEACHING
LITERATURE

.Another ot my colleagues told
me, "1 must have taught Don Quix-
ote more than a hundred times in
the past twenty years, but there I was
at 5 a.m., reading the section for the
next day. E\er\- time I assign a piece
ot literature, 1 read it all again
l^etore every class e\en though 1
know it by heart. You cannot teach
literature without freshness. You read
it word by word, line bv line, page bv
page. You must ha\"e the whole
thing m \our head at once to see it
as art and to be a good ititerpreter of
the literature.

"LiteratLire is one ot the most
time-consummg and difticult
subjects to teach."

ON COMMITMENTS
PHYSICAL
AND EMOTIONAL'

The i-leep commitment to te.tc
mg and eiithusiasm about the
profession bring demands both
phxsical and mental. Recently, a

2 SPRING 1989

ACADEMIC ACTIVITIES

1987-88

COLLEGE-RELATED

1 . Committee work

Membership

Office(s)held

Faculty
College
Evaluation
Search
' University Center
Phi Beta Kappa
Misc. corns., groups,
&. task forces

51

16

15

5

2 '

3

103

10
1

3

TOTAL:

195

195

2. Work on special events

f

a. Admissions-related - 24

b. Alumnae-related - 14

c. As speaker at Tabletalk, Collegium, symposium,
convocation or other forum - 39

d. Arrangements for special speakers and events - 22

e. Writers festival - 5

f. Honors Scholars - 1 2

g. Orientation - 6
h. Graduation - 5

i. Miscellaneous - 1 1

TOTAL:

116

3. Course preparation

a. New course - 36-
b. Course revision - 40
c. Extra course load - 1 3

TOTAL

.:89

4. Department chair - 12

5. Special projects and miscellaneous

academic activities - 26

6. Preparation of grant proposals

-14

STUDENT-RELATED

1. Supervision of special studies - 33

2. Sponsorship of extracurricular - 57 '

3. Counseling, advising - 26

4- Global Awareness planning - 6
5. Miscellaneous - 5

-

TOTAL:

127

Gliihal Awareness class, during class
work on marine biology, was snorkel-
ing off the shores of a South Ameri-
can country. The professor noticed a
student suddenly thrashing around
in the water. He ru.shed over and
pulled her to the surface, yelling for
the boat. She had been stung by a
man-ot-war. The boat arrived, they
hauled her aboard and treated her
sting. The next day, she was hack in
the water.

Psychological demands are t)tten
underrated, perhaps because they
are more common than that type
oi danger.

A student has ntit come to class
tor days. Her professor asks why. Is
she sick, intimidated, discouraged?
Do family problems plague her?

Her professor calls her room,
writes her a note, calls the associate
dean of the college, the dean of
students, the student's advisor. It the
student responds, she and the pro-
tessor may talk, all may be well. In
many cases, the professor's time and
energy to save a student may pay off.

But they may not. And when that
happens, professors become discour-
aged: all of the emotional energy
may not seem worthwhile. No
training, no graduate work prepares
us for this part of the teaching
enterprise. These are person-to-
person relationships. Sometimes
they succeed, and sometimes they
don't. A good faculty member picks
up and starts again.

SUCCEEDING IN
ACADEMIC IIFE

Faculty have an enormous sense
of professional responsibility to their
students, their institutions, and their
work. Yet most faculty members
spend careers with little public re-
cognition and only occasional words
of gratitude from students. From

AGNES scon MAGAZINE 1 3

where comes satisfaction? What
yardsticks measure their success?

How can a professor communicate
the thrill ot a real disco\'ery after
years of heing puzzled hy a certain
yrotip of works? The dull and dusty
volume in which the article will
appear cannot communicate that
exhilaration.

I low can a professor communicate
the joy of seeinj,' a student master a
particular skill, achiexe a certain
!_;oal, yrow a few more mental inches
m the months of her study?

This American work force casts
its hread upon the waters without
any real hope of gratification.
"Results" are rarely immediate and
may never he seen hy the professor.
The real payoff comes with what a
stutlent accomplishes in life, hut
the student may never share her
achie\ements with the institution
or with the professor.

How does one measure good
teaching thirty years after the joh is
done? If the students keep coming,
does that indicate quality teaching?

It is no wonder that faculty ac-
complishment is often measured
in terms of publishing, rather than
hy how well a person teaches. It is
much easier to count numbers of
publications than students well
taught. And yet, from our teach-
ers we learn how to live, to learn,
to work.

The academic life is fragile, and
faculty become exasperated as
do administrators. But their enter-
prise, with its tensions and joys, is
the crticible for our future.

ACADEMIC GRANTS
AND AWARDS, 1984-1989

Projeci

Proio

Fimdins,

Suhmist
Date

Proje<

ACADEMIC YEAR 1984 - 85

Richard Parry

Summer
Seminar
for Secondary
Schl. Teachers

National
Endowment
for the
Humanities
(NEH)

- 4/85

Summer '85

Leon Venahle

Research in
Metallaboranes

Petroleum

Research

Fund

10/84

Summer "85

David Good

Travel to
Collections

NEH

10/84

Summer '85

Penelope

Fulhright lecture-

CIES

9/84

Fall '85

Campbell

ship in India

40,198

15,000

50
5,000

Niitc:: ASC iharc iiKhuks indirect ldsis. m-kmd amtrihitiims, umi/ur nuilc/iiiii; /mufc .

ACADEMIC \'EAR 1985 - 86

e-lohal Awareness Jessie Ball

Patricia Pinka Research on Bacon NEH
at Folger Library

V86
1/86

Onyomt;
Summer '86

ACADEMIC YEAR 1986 - 87

:55,l\V
500

C. Scott/
A Ciichran

H. Chatagnier
R. Reynolds-
Cornell

Fulbright Scholar-
-in-Residence

French Stimmer
Lang. Institute

CIES

Ga. Dept.
of Ed.

10/86 Fall '87

11/86 Summer '87

not applicable
30,000

LINKING PAST & FUTURE

We teach our students the accinii-
plishments ot the past language,
literature, great events, scientific
achievements, mathematical con-
nections, rediscover^' of women's
accomplishments. We do less well

connecting what we do here to their
future and to ours. We must teach
women to face unimagined opportu-
nities in the 21st century. They need
to learn how to solve group problems
with due speed. The best liberal edu-
cation will link them to their future.

E\ery time faculty struggle with
applications to Agnes Scott in the
Admissions Committee, every time
they spend hours discussing a cur-
ricular issue or work to establish
proper criteria for a faculty appiMiit-
ment, they operate from the \iew-

point of providing the best education
and brightest future for students.

The connections between now
and the future are difficult to con-
ceptualize. Rut, to quote my favorite
li\ing French author, Helene
Cixous, "just because you cannot see
the connections, it does not mean
they do not exist."

Ellen Wood Hall '67, Dean uf the
College smce l^^H4, is leavina A^ies
Scnn in June to assume the presidency
,>{ Converse College.

Pmicct

Prn,,ct

Suhnissinn

Ammkd

ACADEMIC "^AR 1987 - 88

Rosemary
Cunningham

Alice
Cunningham

Leon Venable

Ellen Hall/
Richard Parry

Marylin
Lading

Fulbright/Hays
Seminar in China

Summer Institute
for Chemistry
Teachers

Research in
Metallaboranes

Values Seminar

General support for
Studio Dance
Theatre

U.S. Dept.
of Ed.

Ga. Dept.
of Ed.

Petroleum
Research Fund

NEH

LOeKalh Council
for the Arts

12/87
10/87

9/87
4/87

Summer '88
Summer '88

1988-90
Summer '88
1988

ACADEMIC YEAR 1988 - 89

N/A
34,510

20,000

47,475

1,000

Candice
McCloskey

Research in bio-
sensor applications

NSF

IMSQ.gi

12,000

cost

Alice

Work.shopon

NSF

March '89

1,700

Cunningham

research careers
in chemistry

Harry Wistrand

Community College
residency program

Vassar/AAC

Summer '90

25,000

L. Bottomley/
A.Cunningham

Spectro-
photometer

NSF

11/87

Ongoing

16,132

R White/
S. Bowden

Molecular
Genetics Lab

NSF

11/87

Ongoing

32,545

Marylin Darling

General support
for Studio Dance

DeKalb
Council
for the Arts

1/88

1989

1,000

Terry McGehee
Sculpture

"Artsweek"
for the Arts

Ga. Council

4/88

Apr-May '89

2,000

Terry McGehee

"Expressive
Traditions"
Exhibition

Ga.

Humanities

Council

7/88

Mar- Apr '89

3,000

Alice
Cunningham

Phase 11 Summer
Institute for
Chemistry
Teachers

Ga. Dept.
of Ed.

10/88

Summer '89

67,925

Jere Link

Research travel to
E. Germany

IREX

10/88

Summer '89

1,200

1

'STCEN

wm'j

f

li < m

r

yjL

^M

In October, President Schmidt made
reports to the board of trustees and to
the faculty that outlined the accomplish-
ments of her first six years in office and
suggested the nature of Agnes Scott's
task in its secorui century . Here she
shares these thoughts with alumni.

A Centennial is a time to look both
backward and forward. It's an
excellent occasion to take a longer
view than usual in reporting on the
state of the college. We can all take
great pride in the advances and
achieventents of the past six years.
The operating budget (in deficit in
1982-83) now is not only balanced,
but also provides for higher salaries
for faculty (47 percent increase in
five years), better maintenance of
our eight recently renovated build-
ings and greatly increased financial
aid for students of all ages.

There are seventy computers in
various locations for faculty and
student use; in addition, administra-
tive offices are also equipped with
computers. On campus in 1982 were
only a few personal computers and
one terminal connected to Emory
University's computer.

After four years of renovation and
construction, the plan for physical
improvement of the campus (now

known as the Centennial Campus) is
a reality. We have splendid facilities
for physical activities (a track and
soccer field, a 25-meter swimming
pool, racquetball courts, a regulation
gymnasium). Our prominent, legible
signs fit the campus architectural
style. Well-kept lawns, shrubbery,
and trees delight neighbors and cam-
pus citizens. Residence halls safely
provide for the plethora of appli-
ances brought by today's students,
and there is a telephone in every
room. A computerized energy system
replaces an antiquated steam plant
that operated at less than }0 percent
efficiency in 1982.

All public safety officers are pro-
fessionally trained. The food service
capably provides for our catering
needs (many and great in our Cen-
tennial year!).

The chaplain sponsors regular
religious services in the Mary West

Thatcher Chapel in the Wallace M.
Alston Campus Center.

Minority persons make up 18 per-
cent of our professional and clerical
workers, as contrasted to only two
minority employees in these catego-
ries in 1982. Minority student
enrollment in the entering class this
fall grew to 1 3 percent. The Presi-
dent's Committee on Community
Diversity has led the campus in
educational efforts for a campus
climate which affirms all members.

The Global Awareness Program
has made a great difference in
students' understanding the world
where they will live as interdepend-
ent inhabitants. Our program, begun
four years ago, is in line with the
most recent recommendations of the
Council on International Educa-
tional Exchange report that, coun-
tries other than those in western
Europe be included in study abroad
programs. Our goal remains that
every student will have an opportu-
nity during her years at Agnes Scott
to experience a culture quite differ-
ent from her own.

Much more expertise technical,

Economics Professirr EJmunJ Shcchcy tctlks mth (L-R) Catl\Lnv\c Mcirtm '88, Mary .Ann Advi^s

I 16 SPRING 1989

mechanical, and professional is
evident on campus in the various
workforces, he they office workers or
groundskeepers. The faculty are
clearly more active professionally.
During the academic year 1987-88,
they published or had accepted for
publication 44 articles and gave 43
presentations at professional meet-
ings while continuing to emphasize
their and the college's primary com-
mitment to teaching. They prepared
thirty-six new courses and revised
forty. [The Board of Trustees offi-
cially commended their fine report of
professional activity at the October
board meeting.]

We now have professional coun-
seling available for students, who in
this stressful modem life often come
with serious family or personal issues.

And perhaps most important, for
the first time in many years a serious
consideration of our mission and
purpose by trustees and campus
people has affirmed both our heritage
and our future as an outstanding
liberal arts college tor women where
the Christian faith continues to
shape the college's life.

Having made significant improve-
ments in all of these areas, Agnes
Scott is now ready and poised for
something more. In a recent article
on top colleges in U.S. News &
World Report, Agnes Scott ranks as
one of the top five national liberal
arts colleges in terms of resources
(endowment and library expendi-
tures). The value of the endowment
has more than doubled in the past
five years, and now totals approxi-
mately $100 million.

While the college can aspire to be
one of the top 25 in our category of
national liberal arts colleges, to
achieve this goal will be extremely
difficult, tor this category represents
the very best of liberal education in
this country. The college can and
must be worthy of its resources, and
in the next few years our task will be
to bring the college's reputation na-
tionally to the level ot its resources.

As we think about the college's
second century, I ask you to consider
several elements which 1 think are
key to our future position in higher
education in this country.

( 1 ) To be a more outgoing com-

i Maria Teresa Ramirez '90. The best education for women in the 2ht century has yet to be devised.

munity (our true heritage), less con-
cerned with our own welfare, and to
reach out to others in our immediate
surroundings, in Metropolitan
Atlanta and across the globe.

(2) To be a more diverse commu-
nity socially, culturally, and
racially. The College must continue
the progress which has been made in
recruiting minority students and
employing minorities on our admin-
istrative staff. The faculty's resolu-
tion of commitment to recruit
minority faculty members, adopted
this fall, must become a reality.

(3) To develop a more cohesive
educational program, starting by
asking the basic questions of what
women need to know, experience, and
be in the 21st century. Agnes Scott
needs to develop a curriculum that is
less imitative of large research
universities. It seems ludicrous that
we offer as many courses as there are
students at the college. The curricu-
lum should be more attuned to pro-
viding a unique educational pro-
gram, including academic work and
student development.

No one has yet devised the best
possible educational experience for
women in the 21st century. We have
the opportunity to do this.

As we do these things together,
Agnes Scott will make its leadership
in women's education known every-
where. With its resources of endow-
ment and skilled faculty and staff, an
ideal campus for our purposes, an at-
tractive urban setting in a growing
metropolitan area, and our tradition
ot high quality liberal arts educatit)n,
Agnes Scott is poised to make its
leadership role more visible.

"Keeping the promise" our Cen-
tennial theme should not be diffi-
cult. Expanding the promise and
making it reality for women of the
2 J St century, and our second century,
is the goal to pursue.

Editor's Note: After preparation of
this article, three minority faculty were
hired, including two Black women. The
1 989-90 full-time faculty will include
one Hispanic and three Black members.

AGNES scon MAGAZINE 1 7

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18 SPRING 1989

Y PHYLLIS THOMPSON

THE STUDENT TEACHER

TO MIRIAM DRUCKER, STUDENTS, NOT SUBJECT MAHER, ARE TEACHING'S MOST VITAL ELEMENT.

WHEN ONE DAY A STUDENT BEGAN, "IF I DIE . . .," MIRIAM KOONTZ DRUCKER, AGNES SCOTT'S

CHARLES A. DANA PROFESSOR OF PSYCHOLOGY, INTERRUPTED. "START OVER AND SAY,

'WHEN I die; " THE STUDENT PAUSED. THE CLASS BECAME QUIET. AND THE STUDENT SAID,

"WHEN I DIE. . . ." WHEN ANOTHER STUDENTS FATHER DIED, DR. DRUCKER'S CLASS BECAME

AN OUTLET FOR THE YOUNG WOMAN'S GRIEF. CLASSMATES LISTENED AS THE STUDENT

DESCRIBED IN DETAIL HER FAMILY'S PREPARATION OF THE BODY FOR BURIAL. "I WILL ALWAYS

REMEMBER THE WAY THE CLASS ENCIRCLED THAT YOUNG WOMAN," DR. DRUCKER SAYS.

AGNES scon MAGAZINE 1 9 I

CreannK that kind ot closeness is
important to Miriam Drucker. "Stu-
dents today carry a lot of pain," she
explains. "If I can convince them that
we share that pain, that we under-
stand, then I will have met my goal."

There was never a time, she says,
when she actually chose psychology
as a profession. It was one of those
things that just happened.

"I enjoyed my psychology classes in
college," she says, "and 1 grew up he-
lieving in the importance of people.
It evolved from there."

For thirty-three years as an Agnes
Scott professor ot psychology
eighteen years as department chair
Miriam Drucker has led students in
introspection and the search tor
truth.

And dtiring that time, she has
never lost her heliet in people, her
certainty that each individual is im-
portant and special. The philosophy
that led her into teaching has sus-
tained her: "I am a teacher ot stu-
dents, not subject matter," she ex-
plains. "The classroom dciesn't belong
to me. 1 share it with my students."

Each morning Miriam Drucker
rises at 5:45 and is in her office by
7:40, preparing tor the day ahea(.l. She

gave time to tutor neighbors. "From
two such wonderful role models, 1
came to see the value of women's
edLication," she says. "And I believe
that for women, learning is best
carried out in a setting such as Agnes
Scott. Here, I see women leave taller
and prouder than when they arrived.
That is a purpose for which I am glad
to devote my life."

Upon the recommendation ot her
mentor, the late Emory University
professor of psychology Curtis Lang-
home, Dr. Drucker came to Agnes
Scott. She had not visited Agnes
Scott before interviewing but "liked
everything I had heard and read
about its academic excellence." Upon
arrual, "1 liked it more and more,"
she recalls.

Times have changed Mnce the t.ili
o( 1955 when Miriam Drucker taught
her tirst class. She has seen students
struggle through civil rights activism,
the Vietnam War and the near im-
peachment of a United States presi-
dent. She has seen them become
wi.ser and often more vulnerable.

"Students are more experienced
today than they were in 1955," she
says. "They have traveled more; they
ha\-e seen more ot lite. Sometimes

effusive. "I always saw her as rather
tormidable," admits former student
Katherine White Ellison '62. "In fact,
it wasn't until I came back to Agnes
Scott after being away for many years
that I realized how physically small
she actually is. I'd always considered
her a tall person it's the way she
carries herself"

Psychology professor Thomas
Hogan, who has worked with Dr.
Drucker since 1965, says, "She is so
constant in her work that you don't
see a lot of the things you see in
others the things that show her
humanity. You don't see blunders;
you don't see her in humorous
situations. What you see one day is
pretty much what you see the next."

Few call Dr. Drucker an easy
teacher. "She's ver\' demanding," says
Director of Student Activities Karen
Green '86, who had Dr. Drucker as a
protessor and now ser\'es with her as
co-chair of the President's Commit-
tee on Community Diversity.

In both situations, says Ms. Green,
Dr. Drucker demands the best ot
students and colleagues. "Just when
you think you've crossed one hurdle,"
she says, "she causes you to stretch a
little more."

AS A TEACHER, DR. DRUCKER HAS BEEN EXACTING, DEMANDING, CHALLENGING. "JUST
WHEN YOU THINK YOU'VE CROSSED ONE HURDLE, " SAYS ONE STUDENT, "SHE CAUSES YOU
TO STRETCH A LinLE MORE. "

reads constantly, seeking new ideas
and creative ways to challenge
students. Her drive and enthusiasm
stem from firm foundations. "Along
the way," .she says, "some wonderful
people took time with me. They
helped me see my potential. Ninv,
each day offers an opportunity for me
to give hack the best of what I know."
Dr. Drucker grew up in Baltimore,
the younger of two daughters. Her
father and grandfather were Evangeli-
cal Church of Brethren pastors.
Often, she heard stories of her grand-
mother, a German immigrant who
worked as a field laborer to buy books
In her mother she saw a scholar who

that's good and sometimes that's not
good. But wherever they are, they
neei.1 to know that we're here to
help."

Miriam Drucker stands slightly
below average height. Her hair is
gray, her ways gentle. When teachinL
she stands proud and erect. I ler
movements are fluid. Gestures, facial
expressions, x'oice inflections and
sentence rhythm all help her lectures
communicate.

"1 would describe myself as a little
sh\," she says. "But I am eiithusiastic.
And I do pretty well at caring."

Inside arid outside the classroom,
the professor is gracious but not

Psychology- department chair .Avse
Uga: Garden '66 agrees. "She is \en-
demanding. .And she causes vou to
demand more ot yourself."

But none seem to resent Nhriam
Drucker's demands. "[>. l>ucker is a
\ erN- caring person," says Kimberlv
Osias '89. "She reallv wants the
student to learn,"

"She listens. She makes vou feel
important," savs Sarah Napier '89.

"She is also ver\' fair," explains Dr.
l.\iiden. The Turkish natixe remem-
bers w ell the first paper she wrote tor
Miriam Drucker. "1 must have been
tired," she says, "because 1 didn't
realize that 1 had done ,in\thini:

20 SPRING 1989

vvreing." But at her residence hall
on a Saturday she received a call
from Dr. Drucker. "I really enjoyed
the first half of your paper," the
professor said, "and I'm sure that the
second half must he equally good.
Only, I have a slight prohlem. 1 can't
understand it." Dr. Garden laughs,
"I'd written the second halt in
Turkish."

Dr. Drucker imposed no penalty;
Ayse Garden translated the second
halt into English and received an A.

Meist ot Dr. Drucker's students
come to class early, knowing her
aversion to tardiness. "She really
hates the disaiption," explains Dr.

to the world ot psychology? Some-
one anyone gi\'e me a hypothesis
you often hear."

"An apple a day keeps the doctiir
away," suggests a student near the
hack of the room.

"Good," responds Dr. Drucker.
"Now, how would you test that hy-
pothesis? Who would he your ran-
dom sample ?"

And so the class continues.
"You'd hetter think about this," Dr.
Drucker warns. "I guarantee I'll ask
you about it on your exam."

Dr. Drucker plans to retire in
1990. So will her husband, Melvin,
a professor of psychology at Georgia

much to them." Likewise, when Dr.
Garden's tather died, "Mel and
Miriam were there tor me," she says.
"They're family."

Students often call the Druckers
at home. "It my husband answers,"
says Dr. Drucker, "They say, 'Mel,
I'd like to speak to Dr. Drucker.' "
She smiles. "He's just that kind of
person. All my students know him
as 'Mel.' "

"We're really looking forward to
retirement," says Melvin. "Our only
problem over the past few years has
been too little time together."

As retirement draws near. Dr.
Drucker occasionally retlects on her

FOR HUNDREDS OF AGNES SCOH STUDENTS, DR. DRUCKER AND HER HUSBAND, MEL, HAVE
BEEN FAMILY. IN TIMES OF JOY AND OF SADNESS, "\ COULD ALWAYS GO TO MIRIAM AND MEL,"
SAYS A FORMER STUDENT.

Garden. "And who could blame her?
She puts so much time into prepar-
ing her lectures that she expects the
students to show some respect that
isn't too much to ask."

"In my day," says Katherine
Ellison, now a respected social psy-
chologist, "we were not late. We
might have worn our pajamas to
class, but we were not late. Period."

It's 9:23 a.m. on a Thursday. Dr.
Drucker's general psychology class is
already three-quarters full. When she
enters, conversations halt; students
pull out pens and paper and sit
poised, ready to begin. Dr. Drucker
smiles. "It's very intriguing to have a
classroom of students waiting and
ready for my lecture," she says, "but
the truth is, it isn't time to start. You
may have your last two minutes."

Students relax. Postures slouch.
Conversations resume. Exactly two
minutes later, Miriam Drucker
begins. Today's topic is methodol-
ogy. "Are there any questions?"
When no one responds, she comes
from behind the lectern. "Think
about it do you have in mind a
simple experiment, a hypothesis that
we should consider? Do you under-
stand what experimentation means

State Unn-ersity. Their years to-
gether have been full. "My lite is
round," she says. "I haven't just lived
Agnes Scott. I have had a wonder-
fully rich marriage."

"My wite is the most remarkable
woman I know," says Melvin Druck-
er. "She is my first-line consultant,
my tirst-line advisor. In every matter,
I always turn to her first."

"To know Miriam, you must also
know Mel," says Dr. Garden. "More
than any relationship I've seen, they
are truly complementary; they are
one in their marriage."

"When 1 was at Agnes Scott,"
remembers Ms. Ellison, "she was one
of the few married teachers. We used
to love to see her and Melvin walk-
ing around campus holding hands. It
made her seem more human."

As colleagues, the Druckers have
prepared videotapes, given work-
shops and lectures, led classes. As
marriage partners, they have he-
friended students during good and
bad times. "I became engaged shortly
after my senior year at Agnes Scott,"
says Dr. Garden. "During the time I
planned the wedding, I could always
go to Miriam and Mel. They lis-
tened; my happiness mattered very

career. Along the way ha\'e been
special honors, including an award in
her name for retum-to-coUege
students, in whom she has shown
special interest. Academic honors
are not a true measure of success for
Dr. Drucker. Instead ot research, she
chose counseling: she was Agnes
Scott's first counselor. Her published
writings and her protessional semi-
nars have dealt with childhood
development, euthanasia, grief and
death, rather than methodology.

"I have always put my time into
people," she says. "And I'm sure that
had I another chance, I'd make that
choice all over again.

"Perhaps the greatest memor\', the
accomplishment ot which I am most
proud," she continues, "is that I
never went to class unprepared. The
students are what count; they're
number one."

She ponders. "I suppose the
greatest honor has been watching
students grow." She smiles. "As they
reach full potential, I experience a
sense ot living forever."

Phyllis Thompson is a uriter for the
Baptist Home Mission Board in
Atlanta.

AGNES scon MAGAZINE 2 1

THE

AMBASSADORS

OF

Y FAYE GOOLRICK

AGNES SCOTT

everal dozen interna-
tional students are
making Agnes Scott
College their passport
to future success in life

About five years ago Nela Nan-
yakkara's mother, a social
^worker in her native Sri
Lanka, was talking with women at a
conference in Nairobi, Kenya. She
mentioned that her daughter aspired
to a college education in the United
States. A woman from Philadelphia
recommended Agnes Scott.

Today Nela Nanyakkara '89
marvels over the U.S. Postal Ser\-ice's
e.xtraordinary abilirv' to deliver a letter
from Sri Lanka addressed, cn,-ptically,
to "Agnes College, Dekuter, GA."
The college promptly responded to
the Nanyakkaras' inquiry' with a
packet of admissions materials and an
application, and Nela, with only
ph( )tographs and the printed word to
guide her, made a momentous
decision about her future.

For the two dozen or so interna-
tional students enrolled at Agnes
Scott, such serendipitous stories are
not unusual. To Ms. Nanyakkara, in
tact, the challenge of selecting Agnes
Scott was only slightly less ner\'e-
wracking than her struggle to obtain a
student visa.

"1 waited tor hours, run knowing
what was going to happen," she says.
"The seven people in line before me
were all refused visas. It was ver\' ditti-
cult; we were all made to feel vers"
degraded, \'er\' small. . . . But when
my turn came, the [American]
Embassy man said yes. 1 had my
student papers, 1 had been accepted, I
could go."

Zepnep Yalim ot Turkey had less
difficulty coming to .A.gnes Scott. One
ot her teachers at Roberts College in
Istanbul was an Agnes Scott alumna.
Seeking a double major in economics
and psychology-, Ms. Yalim applied to
her teacher's alma mater. Now a
junior and the president ot Chimo, a
campus inteniational students'
organization, Ms. Yalim works closely
with Agnes Scott psychology," profes-
sor Ayse Ilga: Garden '66, the "unotti-
cial" faculty adviser to inteniational
students.

CoincidentalK , Pr. Garden also
came to Agnes Scott from Istanbul's
Roberts College (now Biisphorus
University); the Turkish institution
has had sex'eral prominent tacultv
members who either tauszht or studied

22 SPRING 1989

: f'

"I realized that I can't
help but let my
identity as a Pakistani
come out, in every'
thing I do and say^^
^Amnajaffer,
Pakistan

"W

:*^.>...,

"'-->-

at Agnes Scott.

In contrast, Pakistani native
Amna Jaffer applied to fifteen difter-
ent colleges all over the U.S.,
eventually choosing Agnes Scott for
its psychology and art departments.
But her visa experience, while rela-
tively painless, had its own twist ot
coincidence: The American Em-
bassy officer processing her papers
looked up, smiled, and said: "Agnes
Scott? Well, how about that! I'm
from Atlanta."

Ms. Jaffer, now a slender, dark-
haired Agnes Scott junior, looks
back on those nervous moments
with calm selt-assurance. Elegant
even in student attire (American
blue jeans, ot course), she speaks in
cadences of British English and
displays a sense of humor about her
cross-cultural lifestyle. Because of
the Pakistani educational system and
the class distinctions in her society,
she explains, many upper-class Paki-
stanis are virtually bilingual in En-
glish and Urdu. She has studied and
spoken English for most of her life.

In fact, language, alone, may be
the least "foreign" part of many
students' experiences. Far more
dramatic are other explorations
cultural, societal, political, personal,
religious, moral, philosophical. Each
student expresses some aspect of the
inescapable, certain challenge facing
every international student; absorb-
ing a new culture and learning from
it, while remaining oneself. "1 rea-
lized that 1 can't help but let my
identity as a Pakistani come out, in
everything 1 do and say," Amna
Jaffer says. "Agnes Scott is a small
school, a community. So as interna-
tional students in this small commu-
nity, 1 know we must be making
some sort of mark."

According to the National Asso-
ciation for Foreign Student Affairs
(NAFSA), approximately 350,000
foreign students from 160 nations
are studying in United States
colleges and universities. They spend
some $3 billion a year for the
privilege a sum that, surprisingly,
makes higher education one of the
U.S.'s most prominent exports. As
George Brown, director of Agnes

Scott's Global Awareness Program,
points out, education is one U.S.
offering that has become more and
more desirable in the global market-
place ... a product that has not been
undercut by American trade deficits
or decline to debtor-nation status.

Though seldom viewed as a com-
modity, U.S. higher education is
booming among students overseas.
In 1955, NAFSA figures show, only
35,000 foreign students studied in
the United States, many on gener-
ous U.S. aid programs. Today the
foreign-student presence has grown
tenfold, and they largely pay their
own way. According to Atlantan
Fahed Abu-Akel, a Palestinian Arab
emigrant and Presbyterian minister
who has worked with international
students for some twenty years, the
thousands of foreign students trained
in the U.S. ultimately become a tre-
mendous global resource.

"The U.S.A. produces more than
a million international leaders
M.A.s and Ph.D.s in all sorts of
fields every fifteen years," he says.

In Georgia this year, there are
roughly 6,000 international students
from 120 countries; about 5,000 ot
them study in the twenty colleges
and universities in the Atlanta met-
ropolitan area. TTirough AMIS
(Atlanta Ministry to International
Students), an ecumenical friendship
organization for Atlanta's foreign
students, its Amigo Friendship
Society (a host family program) and
GAFSA (the Georgia chapter of
NAFSA), many of these students
have the opportunity to meet one
another and members of their own
culture wht) have settled in Atlanta.
Along with representatives from
Georgia Tech, Emory and other
schools, Agnes Scott faculty and
staff Dr. Garden, Dean of Students
Gue Hudson and others work
through GAFSA to keep abreast
of a host of issues affecting foreign
students.

"There is a tremendous network
among international students in the
Atlanta area," says Professor Garden.
"In GAFSA, we deal with visas,
work permissions. Immigration and
Naturalization Service regulations.
But there are many other [social] ac-

In Georgia this year,
there are roughly
6,000 international
students from 1 20
countries; about 5000

of them study in the

t>venty colleges and

universities in the

Atlanta metropolitan

area.

AGNES SCOTT MAGAZINE 25

International students

at Agnes Scott seem to

find their curriculum

options, courses, study

materials and profes-

sors first-rate and

'globally a>vare.'

tivities. For example, AMIS sponsors
a very elegant reception every fall at
Symphony Hall. The hall is pack-
ed!" At the 1988 event, which coin-
cides with International Student
Day in Atlanta, Zehnep Yalim,
Agnes Scott's Chimo president, gave
a hrief speech to the 1,100 people in
attendance.

At Agnes Scott, as at most
institutions, defining "tor-
i eign" students is a hit tricky.
Chimo prefers "international stu-
dents" and with good reason, ob-
serves Agnes Scott senior Mariah
Quintana, a fair, hlack-haired Puerto
Rican.

"Some students ask what kind of
passport we have," says classmate
Scharie Jordan, also from Puerto
Rico. She grins. "We tell them, 'Tlie
same as yours.' "

TTie two young women then find
themselves politely explaining that
although their heritage is Hispanic,
they're citizens of the United States,
with all the rights, privileges and
obligations thereof. Both students
consider themselves part of the
international community at Agnes
Scott. But "foreign" they are not.

Similarly, there are students
like Nela Nanayakkara's
roommate. Mini Abraham '89,
who is from India but has U.S.
citizenship.

Others, such as sophomore
Camila Weise, are so truly interna-
tional that it is hard for them to
define a home country. Brought up
mostly in Venezuela by German
parents (who now live in Ecuador),
Ms. Weise's cultural heritage is at
once Germaii and Hispanic. She
converses fluently in Spanish with
her friend from Bolivia, then
switches effortlessly intti English.
Blonde and blue-eyed, she faces a
reverse sort ot cLiltural bias from
most ot the cnber international
students: Her looks and accent are so
convincingly middle American that
her essential cultural "otherness" is
sometimes overlooked.

"1 lo\e meeting people from all
over the world but it also makes
me realize how much 1 appreciate

my own country," says Tatiana
Me] fa, a Bolivian. Looking around a
roomful of international students,
she adds, "I think we've all become
much more patriotic since we came
here." A chorus of laughter greets
this observation, as everyone agrees
with good-humor that yes, America
is a wonderful place and she really
loves being at Agnes Scott, but there
are some things. . . .

"It is difficult to adapt to college
life the dorms, the rules," says
Anna-Lena Neld of Sweden, clearly
unaccustomed to the parietal role of
small liberal arts colleges in the
South.

The group also finds certain
habits of politeness amusing
for example, the hurried "Hello,
how are you?" that doesn't wait for a
reply. "We sometimes answer 'Oh,
I'm just awful,' they explain, laugh-
ing;. "But no one even slows down."

Other aspects ot Southern lite
strike them as untamiliar,
but not entirely objection-
able. "WTien I went home tor break,
I was annoyed when the men just let
the door slam in my face," admits
Anna-Lena Neld. "And at a restau-
rant, I had to pay for my own meal I"
Ms. Neld and other European stu-
dents Margarete Arand and Elke
Pohl of West Germany, Eva Mihlic
ot Yugoslavia find the United
States more conser\'ative politically
,md socially than their own coun-
tries. In fact, says Arand, she was as-
tonished that the American public
considered Go\-emor Michael
Dukakis a liberal in the recent presi-
dential race. By West Gennan stan-
dards, he seemed ver\' conservative.
Ms. Arand and other students
especially Mihlic of Yugoslax'ia
also face the tears and untamiliarir\-
many U.S. residents harbor regard-
ing communism.

For first-year student Mihlic, such
attitudes are shugged oft. She realizes
misconceptions are the result of
.Americans' myopic view ot the
world. ".As international students
here, we have to learn a lot about
the United States," she says, "but
U.S. students don't have to learn
much aKuit us."

26 SPRING 19RQ

v'-'sr-

Some aspects of life
here are unfamiliar,
but not objection'
able. "At home, I
was annoyed when
men let the door
slam in my face."
Anna-Lena Neld,
Sweden

M Mk ^hile many concerns
^mmm voiced by international
^m ^ students are unique to
their international status, others are
typical ot college students every-
where. Significantly, no one says
anything negative about the quality
ot instruction at Agnes Scott. Stu-
dents here seem to find their curricu-
lum options, courses, study materials
and professors first-rate and "globally
aware." Academic expectations met,
they concentrate on becoming more
integrated into the rhythms ot colle-
giate life.

Zeynep Yalim, president ot Chimo
(the word means "Hello" in Eskimo),
points out that the organization itselt
IS not limited to international stu-
dents. Chimo members, she says,
would like their American friends to
join. Along with purely social occa-
sions a recent "Latin party," tor
example Chimo sponsors campus-
wide convocations and topical
programs on cross-cultural issues ot
interest to the greater Agnes Scott
community. A recent discussion
dealt with cross-cultural perspectives
on marriage.

Chimo recently lobbied suc-
cessfully to have a perma-
nent international student
representative on the Student Gov-
ernment Association's Representa-
tive Council. "We had some specific
needs that, most of the time, people
on Rep Council are not aware ot,"
Ms. Yalim says.

"We wanted to be directly in-
volved rather than taking our prob-
lems indirectly or talking with
someone else."

The new representative will be
chosen by international students
who are not U.S. citizens.

Several students would like to see
more financial aid, although admin-
istrators stress that the College meets
100 percent of each student's
financial need.

Another student recommends a
bit more flexibility in college regula-
tions about applications, tees and
tuition payments, especially those
coming from halfway around the
world. Others would like better ar-
rangements on campus for interna-

tional students who are unable to
return home during school breaks.
(During the recent winter break,
several international students were
moved from dorm to dorm, finally
assigned to reside in the Agnes Scott
alumnae house at a charge of $ 1 a
day.)

And almost all like many other
Agnes Scott students would like
greater opportunities for casual, less
date-oriented occasions to get to
know male students at other schools.

By and large, Agnes Scott's
international students intend
to return to their home coun-
tries. One aims for dental school,
another will go into a family busi-
ness. One intends to become a social
worker. Several want to work with
languages as teachers, translators
and scholars. Still others pursue
college majors in international
relations, availing themselves when-
ever possible ot the College's Global
Awareness program for the tra\'el,
cross-disciplinary curriculum, and
foreign study it makes possible.

Ot this last group, Tatiana Mejia
ot Bolivia has perhaps the most lotty
goal. Says she: "I want to be the
Chancellor of my country."

Ms. Meji'a, a junior at Agnes
Scott, explains that her father has
worked for the United Nations and
UNESCO, and she grew up knowing
ambassadors and others in the diplo-
matic life. Her dream is grounded in
reality. In the meantime, she's intent
on obtaining the best possible
education.

Advice to future international
students? "Don't expect the experi-
ence to be perfect it won't be," she
replies. "But do expect it to be one of
the greatest experiences in your life."

Faye Goolnck is an Ailanm free-lance
writer. She last vurote on jean Hoefer
Toal '65 for the Spring '86 magazine.

According to the

Notional Association

for Foreign Student

Affairs (NAFSA),

approximately

350/000 foreign stu-

dents from 1 60 na-

tions ore studying in

United States colleges

and universities.

AGNES SCOTT MAGAZINE 29

FINALE

This -gear's Fmmders Dca' C'dtii'oaitiDii featured a Values Sympusium, at whieh s/vci(<t'js fonner first
Lidy Rosalynn Carter and church historian Martm Marty received the Award uj Distinctum (helnvv).

Educators grapple
vsrith concepts of
values at ACS event

Even Webster's Ninth New
Collegiate Dictionary'
struggles with the term
"value." The seventh of eight
definitions vaguely describes
value as "something (as a
principle or quality) instrinsi-
cally valuable or desirable."

From February 22 to 24,
educators and leaders tn )m
across the country came to
Agnes Scott to grapple with
this hard-to-define concept.
What do values mean to us as
individuals, as educators, and
as business people.'

A majestic procession ot
representatives and presi-
dents from women's colleges
throughout the country,
faculty and distinguished
guests opened the conference
at the annual Founder's Pay
Convocation on the 22nd.

Martin Marty, Fairfax M.
Cone Oistingui.shed Serx'ice
Professor at the University ot
Chicago Divinity School,
gave the morning's keynote
address, " 'De.script' Educa-

tion in a Nondescript World."
Dr. Marty's address and others
will be included in a special
theme issue on values in the
Fall Agnes Scott magazine.

Dr. Marty and former first
lady Rosalynn Carter, the
College's Distinguished Cen-
tennial Letliirer, recci\ed

Agnes Scoti's first Award ot
Distinction. The award, es-
tabli.shed ,is part of the On-
tennial Cx'lebralion, honors
well-known indi\iduals who
,ire not .iliimnae ot the
C'oilege, who have contrib-
uted signitic.inily to society
,ind the world .iround them,
,iiul who embody tiie ideals ot
Agnes SeotI (.College.

Artist Roben Hild design-

ed the award, an etched
crystal pyramid resting on an
ebony base. Rendered on the
crystal is the College's gazebo,
which has become an in-
creasingly familiar campus
landmark. Tiffany &. Com-
pany executed the statuette
design.

Along with Mrs. Carter
and Dr. Marty, other sympo-
sium participants included:
Johnnetta B. Cole, Linda
Koch Lorimer, and Anita M.
Pampusch, presidents of
Spelman College, Randolph-
Macon Woman's College and
College of St. Catherine,
respectively; Michael Novak
of the American Enterprise
Institute; Jerome 1 lams,
superintendent ot .Atl.inta
Public Schools, Sergio
Mufioz, editor ot Li C )pmi(m;
Ciayle Pemberton, director of
minority affairs at Bowdoin
(.College; Robert Coles,
professor ot medic.il humani-
ties at Harvard Unixersitv;
Nancy WoodhuU, president
of Gannett New Media; and
Rosabeth Kanter and Barr>'
Stem ot (, nxidme.isure
Hntetpnses.

Search narrov/s for
nev/ college deon
to replace Ellen Hall

The search committee
charged with finding a
replacement for College
Dean Ellen Wood Hall '67
hopes to fill the position by
July 1 . "We'd like the dean
well m place before the
academic year begins," says
Professor Ed Sheehey, who
chairs the committee.

Dean Hall leaves Agnes
Scott in June to become
president of Converse
College in South Carolina.
Dr. Sheehey says the com-
mittee has received vitae
from a wide spectrum of
candidates from across the
nation. "A number of them
well qualified," he adds.

Requirements for the
position include a dcxtoral
degree, experience as a
faculty member, a belief in
the liberal arts, an under-
standing of women's educa-
ticin and the College's Pres-
byterian heritage, and
demonstrated administrative
and leadership skills.

Before the committee
narrows the field to three
candidates, they want to
meet with facultv to discuss
what qualifications the
faculty desires in a candidate
and hciw to in\-ol\-e them in
the inter\-iewing pnice.ss. Dr.
Sheehey explains.

Other members ot the
search committee include
Professors Doris Black,
Sandra B.iwden, Huguette
Chatagnier, Dudley Sanders
and Peggy Thompson, Lauren
Fowler '92, Melanie Mor-
timer '9L Lillian Newman,
and Dean ot Students Cue
Hudson '68.

30 SPRING 1989

FINALE

First ^^oman to
chair ASC's board
of trustees

Agnes Scott's first female
chair of the board of trustees
will take office on July 1 .

Swanna Eliiabeth
Henderson Cameron '43 has
been named to succeed cur-
rent board chair L.L. Geller-
stedt Jr., who is retiring as
chair after nine years. Mr.
Gellerstedt will remain a
trustee. Members of the board
unammously voted the North
Carolinian into office at their
January- meeting.

Kresge challenge
grant offers ASC
great opportunity

For months, Agnes Scott
alumnae and friends have
been working to raise the
$836,232 needed to reach the
Kresge Foundation's chal-
lenge grant of $300,000.

The money will fund reno-
vations and purchase equip-
ment for Presser Hall and
Dana Fine Arts Center. But
the College had to raise the
challenge funds by June 1.

College Vice President tor
Development and Public
Affairs Bonnie Brown
Johnson '70 stresses the differ-
ence between a matching gift
and a challenge grant.

"Matching gifts are dollar
for dollar. We raise a dollar,
they give one," she explains.
For a challenge grant, "We
have to raise all of the money.
If we fall ten dollars short, we
don't get one cent from
Kresge."

While the Centennial
Campaign appears in good
shape overall, "some areas are

Said President Ruth
Schmidt, "Knowing Betty
Cameron since my arrival in
Georgia, 1 have total confi-
dence that we have another
outstanding person to chair
the board, and I look forward
to working with her."

Betty Henderson Cameron
li\es in Wilmington, N.C.,
with her husband, Daniel.
The former psychology and
English major most recently
served on the board's execu-
tive committee.

In addition, she serves as
secretary- of the board ot the
Uni\ersitv of North Carolina

etty Hendersdu Camerim '43 1

in Wilmington.

Other interests and activi
ties include membership on
the New Hanover County

Human Relations Commis-
sion and in the Association of
Junior Leagues. She has also
been a board member of the
Presbyterian Personal and
Family Life Center and a
member of the YMCA's
Interracial Dialogue Group.
In the late '60s and early '70s,
Mrs. Cameron presided over
the group Women in Action
for the Prevention of Vio-
ence and its Causes.

The Camerons have five
children, one of whom,
Swanna Cameron Saltiel,
graduated from Agnes Scott
in 1971.

underenJowed in tenns ot
designated gifts," says Christie
Theriot Woodfin '68, who
chairs the Kresge Challenge
committee with Dorothy
Quillian Reeves '49. Global
Awareness and the arts are
two such areas.

"When 1 was in school
twenty-five years ago, the
Dana Fine Arts Building was
new," she says. "We thought
It was state-of-the-art."

In art, as in manutacturing,
publishing, or just about any

other field, computers are af-
fecting how people approach
their work. "So much has hap-
pened in art, theatre and
music that's tied to comput-
ers," says Ms. Woodfin. "The
only way to keep up is to raise
funds for improvements.

"Take for example the
proposed visiting artist
program," she states. "To have
an artist of national calibre,
we have to have the kind ot
facilities that take advantage
of that person's presence."

Art student Jill Jordrin '89 applies finishing touches to a painting.

"Today's skilled artists
cannot continue to make art
without addressing technol-
ogy," agrees Associate Profes-
si.>r of Art Terry McGehee.
"We're tremendously excited
by the possibilities now open
to us here."

Organizer Mary Anne
Gaunt of the development
office and her alumnae
volunteers have been busy
raising the needed capital.

"Reaching the goal the
foundation has set has been a
challenge," says Anne
Register Jones '46, chair of
the foundations committee.
"But it's a challenge I have
always felt we could meet."

"We have a long relation-
ship with The Kresge Founda-
tion," says Ms. Johnson
"TTiey've been generous in
the past and we're really
pleased by their faith in the
goals the College has set."

For further information about
the Kresge Challenge , contact
Mary Anne Gaunt, develop-
ment specialist, at 404/371-
6296 or Christie Theriot
Woodfin at 404/355-2525 .

AGNES scon ^AAGAZINE 3 1

VALUES SYMPOSIUM

Choosing Our Liyes/

Living Our Choices.

A Centennial

Symposium on Values

ALUMNAE MAGAZINE FALL 1989

OUT THE WINDOW

PsycholoKi^t'' tell us rhar cich
of us views rhc uorlJ throu.uh
the lens lit our unK|Lie experi-
ence. No twi) ot us livin.u thr()Uf.;h
the same e\'ent cume away with the
same experience.

This is ne\er clearer to me than
when I am pregnant. It's more th.in
an ironic apprecuition ot the lar^e-
scale heatity ot the sea man.itee, or
the Conclusion that most public
restrooms are huilt too small. BeiiiL;
tall, short, wide or skinny certainly
changes my experience and percep-
tions. But beyond bodily changes,
are the mei-ital and emotional ones.

Whether it's a news report about
air pollution, biuh prices at the
grocery store, drti.u use amoni; youth,
scandals in i;o\ernment, or chikl
abuse, I teel personally contronted

and concerned. 1 tmd mvselt wondering what the world
is becoming. Am 1 equipping mv children to deal with
it can 1 deal with it myselt.'

What kind ot people will they choose to be.'

In this special issue on \alues, le.idinL; educators and
citizens pose similar questions. They were all presenters
at the Centennial Symposium, "Values For Tomorrow;
1 low Shall We Live.'" held Fehruarv 22-24 at .-X-nes
Scott. We regret that e\en in this expani.led issue, we
could not include all ot the s\niposium presentations.

1 low we shall li\e and what we choose to teach our
children pierces to the core ot our mor.il ,in^l ethical

\alues. Each day we face new and
difficult choices on shifting fron-
tiers. How do we guard against
.AIDS and what do we do with its
\ictims? How do we deal with the
li\-es of unborn children, and what
Is our responsibility to those bom
into poverty and misery.' Must
professional women choose be-
tween a career and a family? In our
spinning, pluralistic society, what
does liberty and justice for all
mean?

.As I reread these articles after
the symposium, they reminded me
( it a letter by the Danish poet
Rainer Maria Rilke to a young man
about the age ot Agnes Scott
students. He wrote:

"Have patience with e\erything
unresoK-ed in your heart and try to
lo\e the ciuestions themselves as it they were locked
rooms or books written in a \erv foreign language.
Don't search tor the <inswers, which could not be given
to you now, because \ou would not be able to U\'e
them. .And the point is, to live evers'thing. Liit.' the
L|uestions now . Perhaps then, someday far in the future,
you will gradually, w ithout even noticing it, live your
way into the answer."

Symposia .md renowned speakers cannot hand us
answers. But the\ cm inspire the mind, the heart and
the im.igination that renew us all as we, day b\ d,u,
li\e our w,i\ into the answer. Lvnn Donham

Editor: Lynn f'linh.ini, Mana^iny EJitor: St,Rc\ Nmks |,.nc^, Art Pircctor I' MkIi.kI Milii, tJitorial .Assistant AnucliL' Allod

Student Assistant: Jennifer Burfjer '90, Editorial Advisory Board: (.;eiir'.;c iMoun, .-\\se lli:.i: i. '.irden 'oo, c'hristine c\i::ens. Sunui Ketcliin

EJ^erton 70, Karen Green '86, Ste\en Guthrie, Ronnie liioun lulins,,n '70, l\;inJ\ lones 70. Hli:,ilx-th H.iilin.in Snit:er 'Ss. Tish "I'ouns;

McCuteheii 7\ ixxkv Piopliet. l>klle\ S.iiulers, tijniuivl Slieelie\, Luo.i Howard Si:emore 'O^.

Pliotoi;rapliv bv Ron Sherman

Copyright le' 19S^), .Aunes Seott C'olleye PuhlislieJ three times ,i ve.ir h\ the y">tlKe ot Pubhcitions, .A'^nes Scott CoUeee. Buttnek HaH.

t'ollei^e Avenue, Oecitur. ti.X kVk\ 404/71 oUS The ni.iu.inne is puhhshed tor .iluiun.ie .iivl friend- of the College, rostm.lstcr: Send

.uldress eh.iiiijes toOltKe ot IVvelopnient ,ind Puhhe .Att.iu-, .A..:nes Seott Gollei^e, I\\,mir, i^VA xV>0. Like other content of the

iii:i,u:i:ine. this .iitiele letleets the opinion ot the wilt el .md not the \ lew point ot the Golleue, Us trustees, or administration.

TURNABOUT

CONTENTS

Thus IS to express my gratitude to
[teacher education alumnae] tor your
kind and generous response to the
announcement ot my retirement. Your
letters, photographs and presence
meant more to me than 1 can say.
During the twenty years I've spent m
this place, you have been my raistm
d'etre. For that 1 hmntr you and 1 th.mk
you.

M(i7;t;(iJVt Ammims

Projessor of EducLiium Emema

Decatur, Ga.

Just to add to the many thank-yous
deserved by the Agnes Scott commu-
nity during the "Arts Synergy" celebra-
tion in April, one other special one: all
of us who are alumnae artists or who are
trying to encourage the arts at ASC
have benefitted greatly from the hard
work oi Shelby White Cobb 75, who
chaired the first Alumnae Art Exhibit.
Every detail ot the show (and there are
so many!) was handled in a caretul and
totally professional way. We ,ire lucky
to have had her expertise and 1 hope
that we will again m the tutiire.

L\)iii Dentim '63
Philadelphia, Penn.

i enjoyed the Spring 1^M9 issue ot the
Alumnae Magazine, especially the
article written by Ellen Wood Hall and
the feature on Dr. Drucker.

The oil painting on the co\er is very
beautiful. Are there any prints ot it
available? I would very mucii like to
have one. If you have any mtormation
about this, or it the p.unting is tor sale, 1
would appreciate you letting me know.
Tracy Baker Bengrson 'S4
Palm Harbor, Fla.

There are no current jiLins kj sell copies uf
the cover pamtmg from the List issue.
However, the Alumnae A.ssociution has a
limited edition lithograph print of the
College for sale . Ed .

CORRECTION: In the last issue of the
magazine, Alexa Stough '92 was incor-
rectly identified as Mary Ann Athens
in the photo accompanying "A Man-
date tor the Twenty-tirst Century."

Agnes Scott Alumnae Magazine

Fall 1989 Vokime 67, Number 2

Descript
Education in a
Nondescript
World

by Martin E. Marty

The Moral
Life of Children

by Robert Coles

What in the World
Shall We Teach?

by Michael Novak
Responses by Sergio
Munoz, Jerome Harris
and Gayle Pemberton

More Values for
Your Dollar

by Nancy Woodhull

Transmitting
Values to Women

by Rosalynn Carter

Page 8

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w

XI

(D HP

7

Page 1 2

Page 20

Page 36

Page 40

Page 4
Lifestyles

Page 46
Finale

Without a distinct
n\issiun , a college goes
unth the flow to become
anything else at any
moment.

In the actions of children,
lessons of humanity and
courage pass from
generation to generation .

B)i transmitting values ,
teachers should help
today's students become
as good as the best in the
past, in all traditions.

Should there be a
different standard for
the moral cotiduct of
businesses tlum for
that of families?

Values were clearly
defined in the past.
Today there is more
ambigidty. But values
can still he transmitted
through families .

AGr^ES SCOTT MAGAZINE 3

LIFESTYLES

Feeling of helping
''folks" rewards
government work

She's ,1 hiircaLicrnt's
bureaucrat. At 26,
Valeric Hepburn is
director ot administration
for the Secretary- ot St.ite's
office and is a pro\'erhial
mainstay in C^'oriiia's state
government.

She describes herself as
committed, desirous of
kno\vledi;e, humorous and
hard-work ini;. bier success
in intiltratiiiL; the uood ul'
boy network ot Lieoryia
politics IS proot she's rii;ht.

"The iiK ist important
trait, ,ind une that 1 think I
h,ne, is the .ibility tn lauuh
at ,1 situation and ,it
myselt," she says. "M.iybe
at some point m my lite 1
will be a stani.lup comic."

Her dri\e, her passion
tor politics, started in l\o-
nee County (da.) Hiijh
School. While most of her
tellovN' studerit.s were bop-
pini; to the Bee Gees and
Barry White, Miss Hep-
burn had her blue eyes set
on government.

"1 can't remember when
I e\er wanted to do any-
thing else. My parents are
both |M'otessors of political
scieiui.-, and while i1k'\
nexei encnuragcd me to go
into goxernnient serxice,
my s(iciali:ation ,it home
v\as go\ernment is impm-
tant."

Agnes Scott became her
college ot choice because
ot Us I icak' ,ind currk Il-
ium. .Alter being ac^epled
in I '-'7'^', the next order ol
business was tinding a
governmenl |ob.

Miss Hepburn worked
on Manuel Maknit's 1980
campaign tor chief execu-
tive officer ot DeKalb
County. "Manuel is sort ot
the King Democrat in
DeKalb County," Miss
Hepburn says. "The story is
that you can't make it in
this business unless you've
been initiated by Manuel.

"My mother's side ot the
family is Lebanese and we
all think we're related to
him. It you're in DeKalb
(bounty antl you're active
in the Democratic Party,
you cra\e to work on a
Manuel Maloot cam-
paign."

For the next two years,
she workctl in a whirlwind
ot political campaigns,
including Cathey Stein-
berg's 19,S0bidforthe
Ceorgia House ot Repre-
sentatixes, Sidney Marcus's
campaign tor mayor ot
Atlanta .md Bo Cinn's
gubernatorial race.

"Thank ChkI tor Cathev
and Manuel, ihe\' are the
only winners I've hati," she
says.

She walked .iway from
all the campaign slogans
and tried chicken tund-
raisings with a wealth ot
political sa\-\\' .md a job
with Max C "leland, the
newly elected secretary ot
state.

.At 1\ , the tenacious
Miss 1 lepburn w as Mr.
Cdeland's direct.. r of
gox'crnmental relat ions
the highest tanking person
ot her age .il the Capitol.

"Initi.ilK, people looked
at me mu\ ^aid, 'I liiw'd she
get that |ob.' Surely she
can't be qu.ililied.' But

Wdcnc licphurn: Fur a uninati, the uork's never done

basic. illv people know I'm bec.uise I'm .1 voung

here because I'xe e.irned worn. in th.U 1 made the

the right to be here. mist, ike. You teel com-

"Most people don't pelled .ilmost to overkill,

know how okl I .im, ,ind 1 to . . . excel all the wav.

don't otter it unless the\
ask. It's not th.U it bothers
me, it's just iiot p.irticu-
larK relevant."

Despite her achiexe-
ment, she still thinks
women h,i\e .i h.uder time
climbing the l.klder to
success.

"I work weekeni.ls be-
c.uise I teel like I h,i\ e to
pro\ e niNselt e\ en .itter .ill

"It's .t reflection of our
time."

Fi\e xe.irs ago. Muss
Hepburn cime face to face
with the gender gap. She
entered .i -tatewide coi^itest
sponsored b\- a professional
women's orgaiii:atioi"i that
me.isured the success ot
voung c.u'cer women. De-
spite her ob\ lous rise on
the protession.il l.idder. the

this time. 1 don t e\er w.mt judges did not clioose her
lo m.ike .1 misi.ike, .md .is the st.ite's exempl.in

when I Jio, I'm mortified.
Bec.uise, somehi>w . I know

.ueer wom.m.
"1 w.iv l.uer told Ibv one

ihe\ ,ire going to think it's of the fem.ile uidges] th.U I

4 FALL 1989

LIFESTYLES

didn't win because the
men judges didn't feel I
was an appropriate model
young careerist. They telt
you should not only have a
job, hut have your personal
lite in order. And 'in order'
to them meant a marriage
and children.

"That's the reason that
women have to be super-
women to raise tamilies,
get graduate degrees, be
corporate leaders. There's
nothing wrong with being
at home and just raising
children. There's nothing
wrong with being a
corporate leader. But
there's a sense that you
have to accomplish it all
and he super-human."

TViese days for now
anyway Miss Hepburn's
babies are the six divisions
of the Secretary ot State's
Office public ser\'ice,
business service and regu-
lations, examinations
boards, elections, archives
and history and admini-
stration and she also
handles governmental
relations.

She earned a master's
degree in public admini-
stration at Georgia State
University and now com-
mutes to the University ot
Georgia, where she is
working toward a doctor-
ate in public administra-
tion.

"1 like to have a little
free time to have some fun
to play scime tennis and
take advantage of the fun
things to do around
Atlanta. I play ALTA
[Atlanta Lawn and Tennis
Association] tennis, not
particularly well, but 1 tlail

around with it. 1 like the
symphony and the ballet.

"You ha\-e to decide to
pull back m un some
things, so that you can do
twii or three things well
and not eight or ten hide-
ously. 1 am realizing that
I'm getting older and my
energy level is lower. 1 used
to be able to stay up until
2:00 in the morning an^l
get back tip at 5:00 and
just go, go, go, and nothing
e\'cr tared me. 1 can't do it
anymore. "

Outside the window ot
her eighth-tloor office in
the government building
across from the Capitiil,
cars ha\-e begun their usual
rush-hour crawl. Miss
Hepburn gazes pensively at
the Capitol's golden dome,
knowing her work isn't
done.

"There ,ire two things 1
want to lIo m my lite," she
says. "1 want to be either
the commissioner ot base-
ball or a writer tor Sports
Illustrated. When I have
my midlite crisis, that's
what I'm going to do. I'm a
sptirts nut.

"But, 1 think tor now I'll
stay in state government,
at least tor a while longer. 1
like the commitment to
doing something good tor
tolks. You go to bed at
night and you put your
head on the pillow and
you think, '1 might have
done something decent tor
somebody tcKlay.' " Faith
Peppers

This article iias first /iu/>
lished in the Atlanta
Journal/Constitution aiui is
used with permission.

Time important gift
for ASC's profes-
sional volunteer

On a typical Tues-
day, Louise
McCain Boyce
gets up and out shortly
atter sunrise. She has work
to do helping remove
debris trom the wi n ids
behind her church,
delivering toutteen
lunches to the elderly,
attending a hospital
auxiliary board meeting,
training \'olunteers tor
Recording tor the Blind
and tutoring a sixth-grade
student. The lite ot a
professional volunteer.
Mrs. Boyce maintains

SLich an active schedule
because her interests are
diN'erse and her energy is
.ipparently boundless.

"All my time is my
own," she says. "1 enjoy
^loing what I do and it's
not work at all."

Mrs. Boyce began her
tradition of volunteerism
during the 1930s while a
student at Agnes Scott. A
member ot the stiKJent
chapter ot the Young
Women's Christum
Association, she regularly
traveled to Atlanta's iniuT
city to teach Sunday
school to the poor.

The experience ga\'e
her a chance to "see what
Atlanta was like" tar trom

Louise McCdin /3iA'ce: A lije committed to helpin;.^ others

AGNES SCOTT MAGAZir JE 5 I

LIFESTYLES

the refined and restrictcel
environment of campus.

Today Mrs. Boyce
dedicates her life to such
groups as Hahitat for
Humanity, Junior League,
Central Presbyterian
Church, the American
Association ot University
Women, Delta Kappa
Gamma, Athens Regional
Medical Center Auxiliary,
Retired Teachers Associa-
tion and others.

Mrs. Boyce, who double
majored in Bible and
Latin, likes to .say that her
attendance at Agnes Scott
was predestined. Her
father, James Ross McCain
was the College's second
president.

"1 le would laughingly
say, 'It It's not good enough
tor mv girls, how can 1 say
It's good enough tor
anyone else,' " she recalls.
"We really dkln't ha\e a
choice."

All three ot Dr.
McCairi's daughters
attended Agnes Scott.
Their brother, Dr. Paul
McC 'ain, ser\ed as the
C^olleue's \'ice president
tor dexelopiiient trom
PW)n. P)S4.

Ydunu Louise simply
wanted to "get married an
be a schoolieaciier," and
she has done both.

For the p.ist t\\ent\-ti\e
years, slu' and her hus-
band, etlucator Luuene M.
Boyce, h.i\e taught .iround
I he world. They haw
ro, lined trom Floritla to
Nigen.i and Lthiopia.
Along the way, they'\e
reared a family ot two sons
and a daughter. Gale
Horton

A career proving
"there's nothing o
woman can't do"

A ccording to Kathryn
/ Xlohnson '47, it was
/ \her burdensome
senior ye.ir at Agnes Scott
that taught her a \-aluable
lesson tor the future.
Carrying a double major
in French and English,
.she had the formidable
challenge ot completing
14 papers at the same
time.

By her own admission,
she "tended to be a bit
careless" ,ibout biblio-
gr.iphical notation. To
her surprise, professors
criticalK cited e\ery
missing ibid.

"Not a one ^ot by," says
Ms. Johnson. "It taught
me to be extremely
careful about details and
about facts."

Now a distinguished
journalist one who has
chronicled the cnil rights
movement, the court-
martial of Lt. William
Galley, the trials of the
Alday family killers and
Jimmy Carter's presiden-
tial campaign, among
other historical and
noteworthy e\-ents, Ms.
John.son has spent the last
fiirty-two years gathering
facts and details.

Her resume includes
jobs as an Associated
Press reporter as well as
reporter and bureau chief

K'u(/ir\n /iilidson.- Adcqiuae has never hccn oood cti()i(,t,'/i

for U.S. News and World
Report. She covered
Capitol Hill for seven
years, writing investiga-
tive stories on military'
spending and campaign
spending and financing.

Currently on leave
from L'.S. hleu's and
World Report, Ms.
Johnson has returned to
Atlanta to care for an
ailing relative. She now
writes anchor news for
Cable News Network.

When Kathryn
Johnson attended .Agnes
Scott in the mid 1940s,
the school instilled in her
the sense of purpose and
determination echoed bv
many Scott graduates.

"I had a lot of profes-
sors, men and women,"
she savs, "who were so
brilliant." She notes that
her female professors
made her feel especially
that "there was nothing
women couldn't do."

Ms. Jeihnson did not
know in college that she
wanted to become a jour-
nalist, .ilthougb writing
mtneued her. But she
thinks that her solid
liberal arts educttioii laid
the foundation tor excel-
ling as a journalist.

".Agnes Scott's commit-
ment to excellence is
probabK the one single
thing th.it mattered most
m the journalism work
ac.idemic standards, per-
siMi.il conduct, ethics.
.Adequ.ue w .\s ne\er
enous:h.

"It ch.illenged me to do
m\' best. "

Ms. Johnson is the
recipient i^t numerous

6hAlL 1989

LIFESTYLES

honors including the
Distinguished Individual
Achievement Award
from the Associated Press
for her coverage of the
civil rights movement. In
1976, she became a
Har\-ard Neiman Fellow,
and was elected Neiman
class president.

As a cuh reporter, Ms.
Johnson used her re-
sourcefulness and youth
(she graduated from
Agnes Scott barely 1 9
years old) to land a story.

During the struggle
over integrating the Uni-
versity of Alabama, she
covered the confrontation
between Governor
George Wallace and
Assistant U.S. Attorney
General Nicholas Kat:en-
bach.

Although reporters had
been locked in the gym-
nasium to prevent news
coverage, Ms. Johnson
escaped by persuading a
young state trooper to let
her out. Taking advan-
tage of her small size, she
slipped under a table only
a few feet away from Wal-
lace\ famous doorway
blockade. From her van-
tage point, she not only
could see the feet and legs
of Wallace and Katzen-
bach, but could also hear
them well as she scribbled
notes under the table.

Despite pistol-waving
police, she later secured
the only telephone in the
gym and held a line open
to Montgomery for six
hours dictating a run-
ning, eyewitness account
of the confrontation.
Gale Horton

Keepinq in touch
means lifetime
commitment to ASC

Thirty minutes spent
with Elizabeth
Jefterson Boyt '62 are
enough to understand
what makes her such a suc-
cessful fund-raiser, recruit-
er, and alumnae organizer.
She IS confident, but not
overbearing. Articulate,
but not effusive. Warm,
but never gushy. And en-
thusiastic about Agnes
Scott College.

That enthusiasm is
contagious. Betsy Boyt's
husband, Pat, travels on
business, and she often
goes with him. Wherever
she finds herself, she calls
Agnes Scott alumnae. She
has no illusions about their
initial reaction. "They
aren't necessarily glad to
hear from me," Mrs. Boyt
explains. "They think I'm
going to organize them."
She laughs, then adds,
"Once we meet, they are
relieved."

But before rhey know it,
they are also organized.
Betsy Boyt's genuine inter-
est in other people and her
commitment to the Col-
lege operate seamlessly.

She muses, "You ha\e
to recognize that a school
is a living, growing organ-
ism. It's really important to
get hack on campus, to be
reaffirmed and reassured.
To realize that excellence
in education and a com-
mitment to liberal arts are
still there. It's really diffi-
cult to get that reaffirma-
tion and reassurance off
the printed page."

Eli~aheth Jefferson Boyi: Her inuilvemeni Lfivu nannd/lv

She ne\er planned to
become this in\ol\xvl with
the College "1 nc\ cr h,kl
a goose's clue. My \olun-
teer work was unplanned
and evolutionary" It grew
naturally from her interest
in people. "I became m-
\'ol\'ed with college acti\i-
ties because 1 knew if I
didn't make an effort to
keep up, I'd lose touch with
my classmates."

Her volunteer work isn't
limited to the College. She
is past president of the
Devers, Texas, PTA, the
Rice Belt Counties Coun-
cil PTA, the South Liberty
County AAUW, and the
Ladies of the American
Brahman Breeders Associa-
tion. She is active in
Democratic party politics,
docent of the Art Museum
of Southeast Texas, and an
officer of the museum's
Gallery Guild Board.

When one considers

that Betsy and Pat live on
a ranch 12 miles from the
nearest town that's 24
miles roundtrip to pick up
their mail and the daily
newspaper her \-olun-
teer work takes on an new
dimension. "I ha\e chosen
til li\e an urban existence
m a rural setting," says
Mrs. Boyt. "When you live
with e\ ersthing so far
apart you ha\'e to organize
your life. I never go any-
where w ithout a long list."

As for receiving the
Outstanding Alumnae
Award for Service to the
Ciillege, no one was sur-
prised but the recipient
herself. Receiving honors
has been difficult for Betsy
Boyt. "I'm used to being
on the other end," she
sa\s, "organizing the
honors for someone else. It
hasn't been easy, being the
one to receive the recog-
nition." A. R. Gibbons

AGNES SCOTT MAGAZINE 7 I

escript education

IN A NONDESCRIPT WORLD

SOME SCHOOLS THINK THAT BEING UNDIFFERENTIATED ALLOWS THEM TO BE EVERYTHING TO EVERYONE

BUT AGNES SCOH'S FOUNDERS KNEW BEHER.

BY MARTIN E MARTY

The word "descript" does not appear in your dictionary. What appears is "non descript," which means
"lacking in distinctive qualities; without any individual character," or, in another delicious version, "not
one thing or another." The world of higher education has many nondescript institutions with nondescript

curricula. We today observe the centennial of a school whose
founders set it on a course. They wanted it to have distinctive
qualities, individual character, and to be one thing and not another.
This year you are asking, "How
shall we live?" It is possible.

even easy, to live individual and

corporate lives that arc best Jc-
scrilx'd as nondescript. Wlu-n
people engage in mere li\ mu ami
drill ihroiiyh lite, thev are nonde-
script. Wallace Stexens has s.iid ihat
we dii not Ine in a place. We li\ e in
the description ot ,i place, I ha\e no
doiiht thai the .ihilitv lo dcsuihe has
something; to ilo with the qualm and
tad ol lixini;.

Second, we ask, who are the "we"
who are askiliL; ahctiil lixinL;.' 1 lere
comes ihe qiiesiion ol ideiiiiu.
William Butler Yeats has said ihai

we cannot i;rasp the iinixersc n.irc'
handed. We need somethin,!:; like a
naiion, a peiiple, to serve as a L;lo\e.
lose l^lrtega y Gasset has written that
without the experience ot a commu-
nity, a people, a nation, we .ire like
an iinditterentiated dmp m .1 mist, ,1
cloud. Erik Erikson, the centur\'s
expert on identit\, sees it connected
with trust, with continuitw with the
t.Kl th.it we .ire someone on whiMii
others can count as haxini; some
characteristics or ^lualities.

The third element in the question
assiL:ned us h.is to di^ w ith the "how ."
llowsh.illwclive.' Evodorl\-s-
lo\e\sk\ once s.ud th.it people who
h,i\e ,1 "wh\" hehind iheir li\ iiil; cm
toler.ile an\ kind ol "how ." .A
college asks its ^ommunit\ to ,isk

hasic questioris ahout the "w hv," the
meaning ot lite.

One evening 1 chanced to ask a
philcisophy protessor who doubled as
a college president what he was
working on. "A book on deontologi-
cal ethics." A lav person, a friend cit
his and mine, gasped: what is
deontologv' We heard the answer;
It is an ethic, a svstem ot doing good,
based on the Greek word tor "dutv."
"It m.tkes no sense unless vou ask
.iKuit the ground ot dutv. .And tor
th,it \ou ha\-e to ask questions about
the meaning cit lite." Aiid ott we
w ent, talking about the limitless but
not fruitless subject ot the "whv"
hehind the "how" ot lix'ing. Tliat is
w hat goes on m serious ckissroom
,ind Ining experiences, including
encounters with the companv ot the
dead who li\e through writiiigs
in a college libraiT. Tliis college
would be descript in the wav it urges
such eiicouiiters.

.Applv all this to education: how

I All 198V

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sh.ill v\c live' Wc know rh,ir higher
cduc.inon by itsc-lt i.lcies imt ;iKv;i\>
press \-.ilucs i.|Liesn(ins at k-ast not
systciiiatically on students ani.1
faculty. Modem lite is ..lifterentiated,
specialized, chopped up into dis-
ciplines, skills, majors, careers. Rut
some colleges have at least aspired to
and partly realized more nearly inte-
i^ral approaches to learning' anel
li\ iiil;.

To he specific about this place,
the an.iloi^ue to Veats' nation,
Orte,L;a's people, Erikson's f.;roup basis
tor continuity, Dostoyevsky's milieu
tor askini; the "why" questions: Why
pay attention to the roots ot this
collc-e.' John XXIll once told
Catholic religious or^lers to retorni
"in the li,L;ht ot the intentions ot
their tountlers." They should work
to ^liscern the roots, so the branches
would be stroni;. They shotild seek
their i.listincti\e "iienius" or "charac-
ter," as you btisy yourselt ^loini; this
year. No one can or would "l;o home
attain" to the founders, in their
contexts pre noxocaine, telephone
tor reachmL; out to touch someone,
CDs and Social Security. But people
can engage in what Karl Rahncr
calls "selective retrieval" trom the
past. That IS wh.it i_;oes on here as
you recall j^ast leatlers, respoiiLlents,
participants m the Agnes Scott
ci unmunitw

1 ha\e read much in your hisior\
this season. It we are to l;o to the

odern life is differenti-
ated, specialized, chopped
up into disciplines, skills,
majors, careers. But some
colleges aspire to more
nearly integral approaches
to learning and living.

intentions ot your founders, we could
do worse than re\ isit the minutes of
a meeting July I 7, bSSy, at the Pres-
byterian Church ot IVcatur, uith the
Rev. F. H. Caines and Mr. George W.
Scott present. The first recorded
worels were that after discussion
someone moved and it wa.s unani-
mously adopted: "Resolved, that we
determine to establish at once a
school ot high character."

The word "determine" helps us
locate the sponsors as Presbyterian.
They led a predetermined existence
that cilled them to acts of determi-
nation. It was also Presbyterian of
them to intend to "establish" some-
thing, because their kind ot Re-
tornied Protestants were ne\er easy
unless they set up an institution ot
some sort or other. .And they
showed their eagerness to be descript
by throw iitl; m the phrase "at once."
Don't wait for definition to emerge,
they told themscK-es. Most of all,
the school mtist ha\e a high "ch.irac-
ter," a genius ot its own.

The charter ot |ul\ 27 savs: "The
ob|ect ot their association is to
establish an institution of learninL; m
the town ot LVcatur. . . tor the moral
,1111.1 intellectu.il trainini; and ci-luca-
tion of tem.ile \ouihs." .An institu-
tion of learnmi;: the\' were pious,
but this was not to be .i church, not a
\dc,itional trainiiiL; center, not .i selt-
protectixe Bible college. The\' were
clear, those founders were, about
what was neeeled.

In the first \e,ir C !h.iirm,iii d. lines
wrote the still-quoted ".Agnes Scott
Ideal," further to claritv the inten-
tions of the founders. C^'orue Scott
endorsed ihis "Magna C^arta" which
was reaffirmed in U'l'-'.ind P'Sl b\
l.iier pix'sidents and no doubt used
tor measurement ot loyalty by your
current president as well. This
"Ideal" had rnany elemetits. Some
which strike us are: "One: A liberal
curriculum fully abreast of the best
institutions ot this country." It took
WASP chut-pah to enviskm "hest-
ness" so early in the game. The Ideal
spoke ot "the Bible as a textbook."
Let me italicize the "a" ttot to

do\\nt:rade it by particulanzint! it,
but to stress that the genius oi this
school in the mind of its founders
was that they could risk their sacred
scriptures among "the" texts.

There was and is talk about
"qualified and consecrated" teachers;
the third of those words may not be
collegiately current, but the inten-
tion is translatable. I think the really
great teachers have a sense of the
sacred in their subjects and their
students' minds. The Ideal wanted
"a high standard ot scholarship."
The intention of the ft)unders still
able to be reworked in a pluralist
societv where the 'Christian' cannot
apply to all, was the noticm that all
the influences ot the College should
be conducu'e to "the formation and
de\elopment of Christian character."
Accent the character: learning bv
itself did not fulfill the intentions.

Oi course they being Presbyterians
would recall their Catechism, tinally
getting amund to first things in Ideal
Number 6: "Tlie t;lor\' of God, the
chief end ot all." Tliat's not bad tor
"the meaning of life." (Tliere's a
new book called The Meaning oj Life.
I luuh S. Moorhead collected book
inscriptions from scores of people
whom he asked for comment. Most
a^lmitted thev had not the faintest
idea how to answer'! The liberal
Protestant theologian Har\"ey Cox
h.id .1 memon' that reached as did
your founders: "The purpose ot lite is
to glorif\- C Hid and en]o\ Him
torex'cr" Somehow. Lest anvoiie
think th.u the founder-- used these
themes to n.inow things, note m the
ch.irter: all departments ot the
e\41ege "shall be open alike to
students ot anv religion or sect, and
no denomination,il or sectarian test

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lOFALt 1989

F thing or another." Robert J. Lift on
has spoken ot the Protean personal-
ity, atter the god Proteus, who could
and did constantly change shape and
appearance. The Protean person or
institution has no stable character
around which to be dynamic; she or
it "goes with the flow," and becomes
anything else at any moment.

The descript school has a different
charter. I should quote the rest ot
Pope John's word about reforming in
the light of the intentions ot the
foundets; he added, of their time, "to
which you cannot go back." This
being 1989 you ask what values are
to be now. By values I mean the
preferring of one means of getting
there to other means; and that these
preferences are grounded in our
deepest beliefs. 1 want to point to six
themes which have emerged m yi lur
history, and which can re-emerge it
you stay descript.

First, such a college can help the
person find vocation. This is a
liberal arts college, not a vocational
training school, but it helps people
locate their calling. Ortega feared, as
if for today's collegians, that they
would be more interested in the
"social schema of a career" than in
the vocation to live a whole, fulfill-
ing, integral life. TTus is a college, a
place for coming and reading to-
gether; it is not a place ot cells for
solipsists.

Add to this the ideal of responsive
education. The Presbyterians ot old
would have said "responsible," but
they also meant responsi\'e. The
participants are aware of the role ot
the past, ot parents, of roommates
and faculty members, of authors who
wrote their books, and of sages who
press the social character of truth
upon them and ask them not merely
to admire but to react, to act.

Descript education is located
education, which means, it seems to
me, that a college like this one
situates itself between the solitary
self and Leviathan, the mass and the
monster. Edmund Burke spoke of
such institutions as "little platoons,"
inns or resting places between the

individual and the larger country and
world. The college partakes of the
larger society's meanings, but it also
creates a kind of shelter for trying
out the ideas and elements of ethos.

At the same time, the intentions
of the founders were to help the
students find larger meanings, which
we can here call a global or cosmic
or uni\ersal context. TTiey did not
think that Decatur or Agnes Scott
was the be all and end all of exis-
tence. It ua> a place to be m order
to encounter a larger world. Here
people were to study, are to study, the
created order, to ask questions ot its
survi\'al. "How shall we li\e"'
becomes "sh.ill uc li\e'" Here tiiey
relate their "lirtle platoon" to the
latger forms ot human society, the
"many centers" which novelist
Thomas Mann said would make up
the world. They take the day to day
meanings and attempt to go deep,
taking the chance that they will
better meet people of convictions, of
deeper convictions, on profound as
opposed to superficial levels.

Liberal learning, they knew and
you know if your values are de-
script is problem-oriented learning.
Liberal arts curricula do not preoc-
cupy themseK'es with imparting
skills, though they ha\-e nothing
against ptactical abilities and preoc-
cupations. But they focus not on
textbook answers to yesterday's
world, hut m helping the constitu-
ents, chiefly the students, leani to
locate and isolate a problem, to
define it, and to begin to address it.

And <i descript college has some
idea of the character it would see
formed and would help form. French
novelist Stendhal said that you can
acquire anything in solitude except
character. One tests values, prefer-
ences, beliefs, and character in the
company of others. Aristotle said
that the good person is someone who
habitually does good things through
good means toward good ends.
College is a place where you debate
the "good" while becoming habitu-
ated to its pursuits together

Remember John XXIlI's words:

he Protean person or
institution has no stable
character around w^hich to
be dynamic; she or it ^^goes
>vith the Hov//' becoming
anything at any moment.

"you cannot go hack." It is piissihle,
howe\'et, that the founders knew
some thmi^s back there already that
we do not know as yet. By being
descript tliey ga\e you a fighting
chance not to see your college, its
curriculum and character, or you, be
lost to the mist of nondescriptness
which sLirrountk\l them and sur-
rounds you.

Happy Seconal hundred years.

Called "the most mjlucnual Inm!^
interpreter of relifjion m the i'.S." by
Time inagazine, Dr. Martin E. Marty,
Fairfax M . Cone Distinguished Service
Professor at the L'nii'ersit^ of Chicago's
Dninity School, gave this year's
Founders' Day address.

Dr. Marty is currently president of
the American Academy of Religion , as
well as the Park Ridge Center, an
institute for the study of health, faith
arid ethics .

The author of forty hooks , Dr.
Marty won a National Book Aivard in
1^72 far Righteous Empire. He is also
senior editor o/ Christian Century,
where he has worked since J 956.

The recipient of over 25 honorary
degrees , he is an elected fellow of the
American Academy of Arts and
Sciences aiid an elected member of the
Society of Amencan Tiistorians and the
American Antiquarian Society.

He IS currently engaged in a fixe-year
study of world fiiridamentalisyn, a
project he chairs for the American
Academy of Arts and Sciences , funded
by a Mac Arthur Foundation grant.

AGNES scon MAGAZINE 1 1

Ihe Moral Life of Children

B Y

ROBERT

COLES

The pr^^Hof a six-year-old black child, uttered daily
before^^^gry mob opposing integration in New Orleans,
Lawrei^^nlessons of Santa Clous on the night of the
baskel^^Ijame in Atlanta these moments of "sweet
pain" gave researcher Robert Coles important insight into
the "culturally deprived and the culturally disadvantaged"
and linked him, and them, with the Dietrich Bonhoeffers and
others who travel "this moral journey called life."

I 12 FALL 1989

It alwavs means a lot to come back
to this ciry where in many ways my
hte and my wife's life were shaped.
We came here as a young couple
twentN'-eight years ago to begin a lite
in this ciry and in New Orleans,
working with the children who
began school desegregation in the
early years of the civil rights mo\e-
ment. We spent our time in k^ur
schixils in this city the high
schools that federal judge Hooper
insisted be desegregated in the tall ot
1%1.

A couple ot years ago, the
Harvard Club ot Atlanta had me
come back and speak at Grady High
School, which I used to \'isit when
Lawrence Jefterson went there.
Lawrence lived on Ponce de Leon
riice, his father a janitor, hi> mother
a worker m a little tactoPi- making
bow la-bow 1,1 rackets: paddle, plastic
b.md, little ball.

Box. did someone like me trained
in child psNchology arid psychoa-
n.^lv^l^, did 1 learn something in this
city I In New Orleans, also, I was
getting to know little black childreii
who were goine itito tiie schools
there.

Those of vou who saw "Eves on
the Pri:e" met Ruby Bridges, whom 1
regard as an important mentor .)nd
teaclier in m\ lite. This si\-\ear-old
s:irl whom mv w ite to this dav calls

SUCeSbi

Lipon as she thinks ahout chiklrcn,
called upi)n her when we were
hrin^ing up our children. We
learned maybe mcire from her rhan
from maybe all those Harvard
professors, certainly more from her
about life and strLi^^le and hatred
and stoic endurance. A little ^irl in
elementary school, totally K^ycottcLi;
a mob greeting her twice a day,
telling her they were going to kill
her; and her willingness to pray tor
people who wanted to kill her. That's
what 1 found otit from this little girl
whose parents were illiterate.

They were black sharecroppers,
tenant-farming people who came
into New Orleans and taught their
little girl to pray for that mob, which
never ceased to appear at 8:30 in the
morning and 2:30 in the afternoon.
To hear a six-year-old child explain-
ing why she wanted to pray for them,
while I, a smarty shrink, pressed
her all that effort to try to under-
stand how her mind worked. She was
teaching me about the mind, all
right.

I'll come back to Ruby, btit let me
tell you what happened. 1 will ne\'er
forget going to the high schools of
Atlanta and finding no mobs in any
of the high school neighborhoods.
Why?

There had been mobs in Little
Rock; in Qumton, Tennessee; in
New l^rleans, why not in Atlanta?
Do you think it's because the city of
Atlanta had mobile mental health
units running around trying to get
people to talk about their problems
so they would get a little bit of
psychiatric help :ind not join mobs.'
In the l^^'^Os Americans were tokl
that you need .i lot of time, l^nly
over the generations will these
hatreds disappear. Suddenly in a
sDutbern city, mobs were not there.
Wb.it happened to the attitudes.'

I remember the campaign th.it
preceded the desegregation ot the
Atlanta schools. A mayor, a business
community and :i newspaper very
important that newspaper all
decided that this must not happen
again. And it didn't. To someone

like me, trained in psychcjanalytic
psychiatry, it was fascinating to
watch the changes in a community
that were not wrought by individual
psychotherapy political changes,
social changes, economic changes.

I remember gc)ing to the first [inte-
grated] extracurricular athletic
e\ent at Grady High School. 1
remember sitting on the front
row with 16-year-old Lawrence
Jefferson, spitballs being throv\n
at us. 1 remember turning to Law-
rence and saying, "Let's go and sit
up there," pointing to an exit
sign. I le wouldn't move. And 1 kept
telling him that 1 really thought we'd

The two of u

what made him so reluctant to use a
little common sense, to get out of
that chair and sit in another place."

Well, you know what minds like
mine would think: He was denying
how frightened he was, pushino it
aside.

We got home, and we sat there.
And I said to him, "Lawrence, before
the game, that was quite a turn we
had." He said to me: "Not particu-
larlv." I said, "It was terrible there for
about five minutes." He said, "Not
particularly."

And I thought to myself, what do
those words mean.' People like me
are always asking why people use
[particular] words. And as he said

sat there, going through the
t^lnTjJANjT^ince, the some words, the
^^^^^^^H. What for me hod been a
Bffrf!!iWiirTi? ent of horror, for him was
^^^^^^^ffl>t special, but all too ordinary.

get a better view of that basketlMll,
and he wouldn't nio\e.

Finally, 1 remember pulling at him
and saying, "Lawrence, let's go." But
he said to me, "It \i>u want to go, I'll
meet vou after the game." B\ this
time I had moliili:i.\l the whole
ps\ciii.itric literature in m\ miiul. I
knew about his problems, and 1 now
w,is leaniing siimething about his
defense mechanisms. 1 stopped
asking him to mo\e our se.its. I sat
back III m\ ch.iii" and he m hi-', aivl
we w,iicIk\I liie g.ime.

.-Xtteiwaids, 1 took him home in
my car, and 1 thought to m\sell, in
the sclf-im|Mrtant w,i\s ih.it ,ite not
tot.ilK iincoiigeiii.il to people like
me, "1 h,i\e to t.ilk w iih him about

nothing, I decided to remiiid him
about what we had just gone
through, to point it out to him.
That's typical of people like me to
point things out. "Some of those
paper planes had prettv nastv words
on them, the spitballs, the threats. It
w.is sc.ir\ ! Re.ilK ^carvl! "
He s.iid, "Not particularly."
1 said. "Lawrence, the police
tin, lib c.ime, th.it's wh\ the game got
going."

1 le didn't say anything. Then in a
momeiit ot iioblesse oblige, 1 thought
tb.it I would help him out by talkiiig
to him .mother w,i\. I s,\id to him,
"Vni know, L,iwrence, I was scared
there tor .i moment." It I could
,icknow leds:e this, then m.ube it

1 4 I- All 1 VBV

would be easier tor him.

He looked ar me, and he said, "1
know you were."

I said, "Ah, well, Lawrence, and
how about you ?"

That was his key. It started out
word for word like this, and I can t^o
over the years and still see the
moment, the two of us in that
sparsely furnished apartment.

He said, "You know, when I was
about six years old, my mom took me
to Rich's to see Santa Claus."

And 1 looked at him, and I
thought, "My Lord, what's that got
to do with what we're talking about.
This is an inappropriate kind ot
comment that has me worried." 1

turned to Lawrence and his mother
and said, "You two should behave
yourselves. Yoli two should be glad to
be here and not be moving ariiund
like that! Look what you did to my
daughter's shoes!" At which point,
Lawrence told me, his mother
grabbed him and took him home, so
he never saw Santa Claus. She took
him home, and she gave him the
beating of his lite.

We are now entering that inter-
section between history, family lite,
and memory. She beat him, and then
she said, "It you don't watch yourself,
you're going to die." If you don't
behave yourself, you're going to die.
An American mother, a black

taught children: re,ilit\.

When he tinishcLJ telUng me that,
Lawrence looked at me, and had
mercy on me.

1 must have looked vacant. He
said to me, "You see, Doc, tonight it
was sweet pain."

1 almost said, "Why do you say
that?" but something told me to shut
up and learn trom that moment.

The two of us had sat there, going
through the same experience, same
words, same threats. When he said
"not particularly," he meant, "Bobby,
every other day, I know this." What
tor me was a sudden moment iit
horror, tor him was .something not
special, but all too ordinary.

thought to myselt, "I'll let him tinish
what he's going to tell me and then
learn why he had to go off to his
childhood."

"We went to the store," Lawrence
said, "and we stood in line." (I later
learned that Rich's had allowed
black and white children equal
access to Santa Claus without the
need for a Supreme Court decision.)
Lawrence and his mother were
standing in line and suddenly he got
a little fidgety, so fidgety that he
happened to step on the toes ot a
little girl who was white, and he
dirtied her shoes. (The symbolism of
this was worthy of Flannery O'Con-
nor.)

The girl's mother got upset and

mother, a southern mother, teachmL;
her child politics, sociology, human
behavior.

Iet me tell you about his mother,
Wilhelmina Jefferson. She was
born in a little town in South
Carolina. She remembered
getting off the sidewalk as they
came down the street. And .she
had a memory, at the age six or
seven ot seeing a body hanging
trom a tree and her tather
saying to her, "That's what can
happen." This is in our century, in
our beloved country.

That was her memory, and now
she was teaching her child, as
parents over the centuries have

To discuss the moral lite of
children, or youths, or all ot us, what
,ire the assumptions we have about
behavior.' Hov\' are we to behave.'
How was Ruby to beha\'e when a
mob told her they'd kill her?

Atter a couple of months of this,
her schoolteacher, who had Ruby in
the classroom by herself said to me
almost complainingly, "1 don't un-
derstand this girl, .she seems so cheer-
ful. She comes here so eager to study.
L( lok what she has to go through.
Seventy-five men with guns have to
get her into this school. And she
smiles, comes in, and wants to learn
h(iw to read and write. Her appetite
holds up, she tells me she sleeps well.
I've seen kids in this hitherto all-

AGNES scon MAGAZINE 1 5 I

white school come here nnJ they're
not going thniugh mohs, and they
have their trouhles like some chil-
Jren ha\'e their trotihles," she says to
me.

The teacher then turns to an
expert, all those poor, intimii_latei_l
teachers all over America turninL; to
these experts; not to mention all of
us intimidated parents turning to
these experts, and these experts, who
don't often show an enc iriiK ms
amount oi humility, giN'e us answers.
Roy, i.lo they have answers! Rooks
lull ot answers telling lis what to 1.I0
and when to do it, marching us
throLigh stages and piiases, giving us
explanations. World without end.

1 said, "You know, sometimes
when people are in a lot ol trouhle,
they mohili:e e\ery ounce ot psycho-
logic, il strength they have to deal
with that trouhle. This can last and
last until eventually it hegins to wear
thin, and then they start getting into
trouhle and they de\'elop symptoms."
Which is, ot coLirse, what I was there
to document so that 1 coukl write a
paper anil, niche in ni\' belt, reail this
hetore a psychiatric association.

She said, "Yoli mean that hec.uise
Ruhy seems to he doing si) well that
means she's in trouhle.' And when
.she starts getting into trotihle that
means she's prohahly getting .i little
hetter.'"

And 1 said, "Yes, that's what 1
mean. That's right. You've got it!"

lu- da\ she s.iw l\uh\ stop in
Iront ol th.it moh and open
and close her mouth tor a
whole minute. An^l the federal
marsh, lis were tr\ing to get her
into the school huilding. "1
asked l\uh\ what she saiil. .And
she said, '1 w, isn't t.ilking to
tlieiii.' " A\^^\ the te.iclier s.iid,
"Well, who were \'ou t.ilking to.'"
And Ruhv said, "I w,is talking to
(. kkI!" At which point ihe te.Klier
stopped cold 111 her ir.iiks and said,
"1 thoughl I'd heller k'l \ou loniinue
with ill, It questioning." 1 tiiought lo
myself, "Tli.it is .1 wise leacher. She
knows when to let others take o\er."

That evening my wife and I went
to the Rridges' home, and Ruhy and
I sat at the kitchen table drawing
pictures. 1 have been sitting and
drawing pictures with children now
tor a long time. At that time black
children were showing me what
their world was, and e\'entually
white children would show me the
same when they came back to the
elementary .school where Ruby went;
but it took them a whole year to
come back.

An\ way, that evening, as Ruby
and 1 s,it drawing pictures, I suddenly
turneil to her and said, "Ruby, your
teacher told me you were talking to
the people in the street this morning
before you got into school."

And she said, "1 told the teacher I
was talking to God!"

1 said, "You were talking to Cuid,
Ruby.'"

She said, "Yes, I was!"

1 said, '"t'ou do that often?"

She sakl, "V'er\ often."

I said, "Ruby, uhv did vou talk to
Goil this morning in front ot th.it
mob.'"

She said, "Recause 1 forgot to t.ilk
to Him two blocks before the school,
the way 1 usually ilo."

I said, "What ilo you mean.'"

She said, "Well, the marshals told
me that if 1 just sa\ my prayers before
1 get to the building, that's fine, but I
should not stop and sa\ a pr,i\er in
front of th.it crowd." .And then she
tokl nie th.it e\'er\' morning she s.iid
her i^r.ners tud blocks before the
school ,ind then two blocks aw.i\
from the school in the afternoon at
1:^0, at which point her mother
mteiAened and said, "She also pra\s
tor those people in the evening."

1 s.ud, "Pr.us for those people.'"

Rub\ said, "\es! 1 |Ma\ for those
people."

1 s.lld, "You do.'"

She said, "I sure do!"

1 s.ud, "Rub\, ,\o wni realK teel
like praving for those people.'" Isn'i
tb.it wh.it Noii'd cxpeit tor mi' to
ask.'

She s,ud, "1 do."

ls,iiil, "After, ill the horrible

things they say to you ever\-day?"

She said, "I sure do."

I said, "The teiribie things they
say to you e\'er\'day."

She said, "Well, don't you think
they need praying tor?"

(I thought to myself "That is an
interesting dodge! I will, by now-
having known this girl for a few-
months, help her to get around that
comer of her life.") I said, "Well,
Ruby, they may need praying for, but
1 wonder why you should be the one
who prays for them." (Getting closer
to how she feels, the ultimate truth
m this fight.)

.And she looked at me, and she
said, "Well, I'm the one who hears
what they say."

I then countered, "Ruby, you may
heat what thev sav, but that doesn't
me, in that vou need necessarily want
to pr.ty tor them, given what they
say." (Don't you think it was helpful
that 1 kinda qualified that point a
little bit with her.M

And she said. "W ell, 1 teel like
pr.ivmg tor them."

1 said, "Do \-ou prav tor them a lot,
Rubv'" .And then I made the point
th.it this was after all, three times a
da\. Then with her silence, I decided
to take a new t.ick. I said, "Ruby,
wh.it do \ou s.n in this praver?"

She said, "1 aK\a\-s sav the same
thing."

(.At which point 1 am sure the old
physiologist, it he had electrodes
connected to me, would have
noticed dilatation ot the pupils,
slight increase in the blood pressure.)
1 said, "WTat's that.'"

She said, "1 s.n, Tleasc, God, tiT
to forgixe them, those people,
bee. Rise the\ don't know wh.u thev

hope th.u in this campus with its
tr.idition, th.u there's a certain

-on.mce to th.it praver. Tliere
w.is 111 m\ moment with Rubv I
remember thiiiking to nivselt.

\e lie, ltd this before. I'x e heard
m\ mother use those words." I
then asked Ruhv wh\ she chose

s.iv that, and she ea\e me her

l6FAn 1Q89

biblical exegesis.

This six-year-old little girl said to
ine, "Well, you see, when Jesus had
that mob in front of him that's what
he said. He said, 'God please try and
forgive them because they don't
know what they're doing.' "

And I said, "Well, Ruby, where
did you hear that?"

She said, "I hear it all the time, I
hear it in church . . . my mummv and
daddy told me that that's a got)d
prayer to say in front of those
people."

Now, you and I know that this
little Ruby Bridges came from a \-er\'
poor black family, uneducated,
hadn't gone to Agnes Scott, or

heal them, to teach to them, to make
them part of one's life.

tith v\hoin did he associ-
ate? Not that time's equi-
valent of Ph.Ds and
M.D.s and all those other
letters with periods after
them. He took as his
friend, as his drinking
buddies and eating bud-
dies for the bread and for
the w me, fishermen, peasants. He
reminded us that the first can be last,
e\-en as the last can be first. Tins,
Mr. and Mrs. Bridges knew and
taught their child in the tradition of
the blues, of witnessing and testify'ing

Ruby's age we are told that moral
thinking is the preconventional
stage of moral development the be-
ginning of the walk up the ladder of
moral de\-elopment. She or he
imitates, reflexively obeys, copies.

Few people get to the top rung of
the ladder that's the postcon-
\entional stage. Gandhi got there.
Albert Schweitzer got there. At-
lanta, desegregation of the highest
stage of moral development, and Dr.
King got there! But most people
don't get to the postconventional
stage of moral development. Most
people, as Yeats put it, slouch toward
Bethlehem.

One hundred fifty years ago at

'"Well, you

''When Jesus

he said, 'God, r
they don't kn
taught her th

/' this six-year-old girl said,
ad that mob in front of him,
lease forgive them because
>vhat they're doing/ " They
t prayer and she prayed.

Harvard, or all the other fancy
colleges in America. In the sixties we
started calling people like this
culturally deprived and culturally
disadvantaged. Oh, did we come up
with words for them. Nevertheless,
they were telling their child to pray.
They knew by heart a passage from
both the Old and New Testament.
They knew by heart passages from
Amos here, a passage from Jeremiah
there. They knew the Beatitudes.
They knew the ministry of a rabbi a
couple of thousand years ago, his life,
how he lived it: to live among the
humble, the lame, the blind, the
unpopular, the banished, the re-
buked, the scorned, the humiliated,
to pray for them, to feed them, to

and hard, hard praying. They taught
their daughter that kind of prayer
and she prayed.

Now, you know here m this
college and in all the other colleges
all over America that there are
courses in moral development, aren't
there? And this lecture is purports
to be a lecture on the moral lite of
children. 1 can give you a technical
language and provide you with the
stages that I'm sure some of you stti-
dents know about. I don't in any way
deny the validity of those stages,
which are meant to tell us about
moral thinking I say thinkinf;,.

Thinking is not conduct. Think-
ing is thinking. How we behave is
not necessarily how we think. At

Har\-ard, Ralph Waldo Emerson gave
his American scholar essay in the
form of an address. He made a dis-
tiiiction that we all should remember
here as you celebrate your htindredth
anniversary the distinctiim be-
tween character and intellect. They
are not the same, Emerson reminded
his audience. One can be brilliant
and not necessarily good. Character,
he said, IS different from intellect. It's
higher; it is not the same.

And, my great hero, William
Carlos Williams, again and again in
his poetry reminded us that ideas are
not to be equated with "conduct."
One can have great, wonderful ideas,
an^l, oh, not necessarily be a good
person.

AGNES SCOTT MAGAZINE 1 7 I

When my witc <inJ 1 Ictr Ruhy '^
home, vvc went ro rhc Napoleon
House Bar, two blocks away trom
lackson Si.|iiare still there, (^ood
ilrinks, wonderttil classical music. As
ue sat and drank, my wife suddenly
said to me, "What would you h,i\e
done it you had to },'*> "i the Harxaril
Faculty Cduh and ti^ht your way
throLij^h a moh'"

"What lIo \(iu mean.'"
"Well, what would vou do.'"
"1 sure as hell wouldn't pray tor
them."

She sai^l, "Oi course vou wnuldn't.
What would vou do. '"
"I'd call the cops."

Ruhv couldn't call the cops,
that's why there were federal
marshals there. The Louisiana
police had retiisetl to protect
lier. "The next thmu I'd do is
L;et a lawver." Ruhy's parents
h.kl no mone\' to <_;et lawyers.
"Third thinul'ddoit'there
were ,i moh harassinL; me, is
to turn my tormidahle eilucation on
this moh. I'd mobilize the social
sciences. Who are these people.'
What are their problems? They're
neurotic. They're psychotic. Thev'\-e
,L;ot char.icter disorders. The\' are
actini; out."

Ruby had no warriors, no police-
men, and no social science, psvchiat-
ric or psychoanalytic Nocabulary.

The tourth thmi; someone like me
lIocs is write an .irticle about what
he's yone through, or a book!

None ot that tor Rubv. braver tor
Ruby. Calling upon the i lebrew
prophets and lesus ot Nazareth m her
lite. Now, I h.i\e to remind vou ot
somethin.L; as 1 beuin to wind this
down. This Is ihe twentieth century
we'\e been li\ ini; in. We'\e onl\ yoi
another ele\en \ears lett ot it, and
some ot you, lik<.' me, are old
enough the stiklenis ha\e parenis
who are old enough lo ha\e li\ed
at a time when C'Term.iin w.is ruU\l
b\ the Nazis. That was a halt a
century ,i,uo, wasn'l il .'

You and 1 must remember, ,ilwa\s,
th.it Ljerm,in\ w,is the best'ei.luc,Uei.l

nation in the world when Adolt
Hitler took power in January ot 1933.
It had tewer illiterates than any other
ot the western nations. Indeed, it had
\irtu.illy no illiteracy. The high
schools were excellent. This was the
n.ition ot Cjoethe and Schiller, ot
Beetho\en and Rr.ihms, of a yreat
philosophicil tradition. The Nazis
took o\er an educated nation; it is a
matter of history that ought to be
engraved m our minds what hap-
pene^l between the Nazis and the in-
tellectuals and the professional
people.

Three thousan^l ^loctors and
lawyers w( trked ft )r the SS m the
concentration cimps. Great names

teach you. We'll make you \'irtuous.
We'll help your moral lite," that's
wh<it we have to think about. That's
our moral legacy of this centur\', a
\er\' important one.

letrich Bonhoefter, the Ger-
man minister who took up his
I >wn kind of arms against
Hitler, died in a concentration
camp. He was in this countrv'
studying at Union Theological
Seminary when Germany and
England went to war on
September 1, 1939. He cheese
to go back to Germany to stand up
against Hitler. If you read his letters,
he is haunted by what Tilstov was

We'll never be

But we are tes

In how we heV^

how v^e drive.

we ore ... as

in psychoanaK'sis, luni;; in philoso-
ph\, 1 lekle'_:L;er; m l.iw; in lourn.il-
ism; in the cletiiN held han^ls with
the Nazis, worked tor them, cele-
br.ited them, apoloL;ized tor them,
did their biddmi:. Isn't that wh.it to-
talitari.inism has laught us.' \\ hen
the albpowertul st.uc bkls acquies-
cence, bids mot.il turpitude, bids
moral e\ il, ihe educatevl minds, e\ en
some wellan.iKzed, educ.ue^l min>.ls,
bow and s,iv, "Yes. Yes. We'll -o
iIoiil;. To L;et aloiiL;, we'll go along,
,ind lo >^el, we'll l:o along." Th.u's
reason humiliated b\ power and
conxeniion .md soci.il pressure an^l
intimidation.

So (he next lime someone lelK
\ou, "Well, \cHi come here. We'll

tested the >vay they v/ere.

d all the time, aren't we?

ve vy^ith one another, in
in ho>v we act, in Nvhotever

e slouch toward Bethlehem.

h.uinted b\ the knowledge that he,
a member ot the intelligentsia, had to
look arotind and see what could hap-
pen to the intelligentsia. On the
b(iots, ot the mii:ht\', entered in a
world.

W hen 1 think ot Ruby these davs,
I think ot Nataii Sharaiisky, how he
stood up to the gulags. Tliey put him
,iwav m one ot their prisons, this Jew,
whk> could not forget the ptciphets ot
Isr.iel w ho stood outside the gates
criticizing the hon'ors thev saw in
their time. 1 lorrors w hich are in all
ot our worlds, aren't thex." h\iustice,
arrogance, smugness, callousness.

Sh,ir.insk\ .md Ruby. Christian,
lew. M.in, wom.m. Russian, .A.nicri-
cm. Wdiite. bl.ick. .All tho.se difter-

18 tALl 198s

ences that we spent so much time
makiiig so much out ot. Both ot
them, faced with a horror of hate and
meanness, stood up and said, "We
shall overcome!" Ruhy and Sharaii-
sky, as well as Dr. King, and hundreds
and hundreds and hundreds ot others
whom I remember in this cir\' during
the days of SNCC, the Student
Nonviolent Coordinating Commit-
tee. The Mississippi summer project,
25 years old this summer, those
glorious moral days in our history,
and an Agnes Scott graduate, Frances
Pauley [77] running the Georgia
Council on Human Relations, stood
with us in her sixties, standing up as
she did, at a time when it wasn't so

He's a poet. E\'eryone thinks he's a
great, sensitive, marvelous writer,
physician, whatever. He knows his
own moments of moral blindness, ot
egoism. As Walker Percv puts it, "the
great sock of self." Oh, to fight that
lift is a litetime's challenge. Isn't it tor
all ot us, no matter our years ot
training.'

There's a wondertul subtitle that
Walker Percy had for one ot his
collection of philosc^phical essays,
L(),st 01 the Cosmos. (You know where
he got the title, he's been watching
too man\' Carl Sagan PBS programs.)
The book is a wonderful series ot
essa\'s by an American no\'eIist, who
is also a great moral phiK-isopher. He

easy tor someone like her maybe tor
any of us. That was possible, that is
still po.ssible for human beings.

Iet us hope and pray that m our
moments of testing we will be
able to acquit ourselves as
Ruby or Sharansky did. We
will never be tested Lord,
Lord, let us pray the way
they were. But we are tested all
the time, aren't we? In how we
behave with one another, in
how we drive, in how we are as
students, as teachers, as doctors, as
workers, whatever we are.

Williams has a beautiful moment,
a haunting moment in "Paterson." A
doctor is in his office; it's Williams.

originally bad a subtitle to that b^)ok
which his publisher would not use.
And 1 can share it with you, 1 hope,
,111^1 not unduly oftend some of you
with one w<.ird that I'll use. But the
original subtitle that the lawyers said
couldn't be used went: Lost in the
Cosmos: or why is it that Carl Sagan
can tell us within two millimeters
how tar the planet Earth is from the
planet Jupiter and still he such an
asslmle ?

By which he means not only Carl
Sagan, but Walker Percy. He means
this speaker.

He means, I fear, all ot us.

Factuality we can command.
Degrees we can get. We can cram
our way into higher and higher

SATs. Cotidness ot heart, thoughttul-
ne.ss, a bit ot aftectionate response tn
the strangers among u,s and in
certain ways we're all strangers to
one another with those qualities,
the cramming .schools, the universi-
ties, the professors, find themselves
m the same boat as Ruby and
Sharansky, all ot us, on this moral
journey called lite.

It is always nice tor me, 1 repeat,
to come back to this city that sii
nuich helped my wife and me to tmd
our bearings. As 1 was being dru'en
through the city this atterniH)n ani.1
batl all those memories, 1 thought to
myselt, the '.*\thinta Ten' as they
were called, may ba\e lielpetl
desegregate the city ot .\tl,inta in 'til
and '6Z; the\ sure helped my wite
and me as we did our slouching, as
we continue to do our slouching,
toward Bethlehem.

Rohcn Coles IS "imc nj the very fexv
seholars who hcis mamified the snr-
IXLSsingly difficult and complicated task
nj remaining a scholar whik personally
participating m the civil rights ai\d anti-
piwerty movement," said one writer.
This nuted child psychiatrist and author
wan the Anisfield'Wolf Aivard m Race
Relations and Phi Beta Kappa's Ralph
Waldo Emerson Award, among others,
for his hook Children of Crisis, m
which he first introduced Ruhy Bridges.

Robert Coles ivas bom in Boston
and educated at Harvard and. Cohmhia
universities. He is currently a professor
in psychiatry aivd medical himumities at
Harvard Medical School.

In aeLiition to his duties there , he
serves cls a consultant to the Ford
Fouiukition, the Southern Regioiuil
Council atui Appalachian Voluntt'er.s.
He (s on the hoard of numerous other
ftnmdations, including Reading is Fim-
dimiental (RIF) and the Twentieth
Centi(r\' Fund.

Dr. Coles is the author oj aver thirty
ht II )ks and a contributor to many per-
iodicals and prof essioiyxl journals . He is
a member of the Amen'can Psychiatric
Association and Phi Beta Kappa and a
fellow of the Amencan Accukmy of
Arts and Sciences .

AGNES scon MAGAZINE 1 9

HAT IN THE WORLD

SHALL WE TEACH?

Ex'ci'y culture h;is its own set ot
itk'.iK, xirtucs, ,iiul hal^ils ncccs.snry
it th;it culture is to tunctiun. The
eclucatiDH ot Citizens alwiiys rakes
place within that moral context. So
our i^rohleni is a very difficult one.
We ha\e to undeistand rather well
the system tor which youngsters are
heini; eJucated, whose furtherance,
whose iniproxement, and whose, m
Jefferson's words, "rex'olutions" lhe\'
will he responsihle tor ,ichie\ mi;.
(Jetterson heliexed th.it a society
hased on tree persons ouL;ht to hax'e
,1 rex'olution, ,i return to its oriL;i-
natmi; \ allies, exerv elLjhteen ,ind
one-third years, that is, in every
generation.)

Well, It's not so e,is\ to uiiLler-
st.md a s\stem such as ours. It is a
human anil imperfect s\sicm. But it
h,is a novel desi<_;n and ,i novel set of
l^rinciples, which enahle it to make
slow hui sU'ady prouress.

The trainers were so .iw.ire ot the
orii4inalitv of the .Amelicm experi-
meni ihat thev stamped notice of ii
on the verv seal ot the I anted Sl.ites.
(You can see it on the '^reeii side of
the dollar hill, under the pyramid.)
Thoy cxprcs,scd it in Latin: NOVLIS
ORIX^ SECLORUM, the new order
of the ai;es. As |ames Madison wrole
m Federalist 14, the people of the
I Iniled States "accomplished ,i
revolulion which h,is no paralk-l in
the .mnals ol human sot k'Iv."

Still, I siisprU ih.il it I were to

because rep^i,,. .^er^oy/ernmenf

Remands rep^^^

*" virtue, caot'

rfS tou"

M \

t I

^oW and ,hey work.

h.ind out Mue hooks to ,ill ot vou just
now, .iiivl ask vou to t.ike three
minutes anil writi' ilowii, "W hat is
the iii'W order.'" .iiid ihiii to t,ike
anothca" thrc-e minutes lo .inswer,
"Wdi.ii's new .ihoiit it.'Wh.it makes ii
ditferiiit tiomlnwii Brit, nn, or
1 i.inci' or C\-i"m,inv or .invvvhere eKe
on e.iiih'" I wnndei how m.mv ot
vouioulddoso.

In the next lo List dr.ilt ol the
se.il, msti'ad ot "nov us ordo seclo
111111," the tr.iniers tiisi tried the

motto: 'X'trrtie." For thorn this word
h:id :i specific me.inini: deriving from
.Aristotle, C acero, .ind the traditic"'ns
m which thev were roiiiarkahlv
le.irned. Their point iii emph.isiiini;
'v irtuo' WM-- ,1 V erv pr.ictic.il one.
Most idiilo-ophers h,i\e s.tid that
democr.icies couldn't work. EveiT
republic in historv had tailed, thev
noted, often w ithm a .sinelo eci^eni-
iion. The fr.imers well knew th.tt it
ihe iitiiens ot .i repuhlic did nor
l^r.ictice self discipline .md selt-

20 I All I'-'HV'

t^oN'ernment ret^ardiny rhcir (uvn
passions, prejudices and desires, then
they couldn't pcissibly practice self-
government in public life. It you
can't govern yourself, how on earth
are you going to govern a repuhlic'

For that reason they uantei.! to
remind their fellow citizens that the
notion ot establishing a successful
rej^ublic apart from virtue is, as Mad-
ison put It, a "chimera," a tlream, a
fantasy. It judges won\ be honest, it
legislators can't get by their own
personal ambition, it citizens can't
think beyontl rheir own pleasures,
there is no way a LOoperati\'e tree
re|iublic can go torwarel.

fiepubllcan go\ernment, in
short, dem.mds republican
\irtue. This IS the point that
Martin Luther King, jr.,
emphasizetl when he ex-
pressed the hope that one i.lav
blaek children, like all others,
would be ]udgei.l not bv the
color ot their skin, but bv
the content ot their character.
Martin Luther King, Jr., came trom
the same intellectual traditions as
the tramers, aiul he understood these
two key words as the\ uni.lerstood
them. Virtue ani.1 character.

Indeed, tor some one hundred an;.l
eighty years, the wori.1 'character' was
the central word in .Amencaii
eiliication .ind .American culture,
^ou hear the echoes ol this m the
classic h\'mn, "Confirm ib\ si nil m
self Control, Tb\ libert\ m law."
Th.it's what the tramers meant bv
value. Poing this habitiiallv, regu-
larU, IS to ha\ e character.

Then quite suddeilK, ,is |ames Q.
Wilson has pointe^l out, tirst in the
b'^Os ,iiul then with a great burst in
the l'-'60s, a i.ulture based on selt-
masier\ and sclt-eontrol gaw w.i\ to
a iH'w moraliiN based on selt-
expression. Ix'ing selt-conirolbd ,iiul
self-m.isteri'd was siiddeiiK consid-
ered to be si|ii,u\- and upIiL;bl. Being
cool, loosi,- ,ind gidow, di>inu what
one lelt like when one \c\\ like it,
was considered "lilxMai ion." What
Americins m prior generations

woLild have thought of as slavery
giving way to your feelings and your
passions was now taken to be
liberation.

The consequences of this cultur<il
shift are now' visible and all of its ill
effects are widely deplored. So the
original beliefs of the framers now
seem much sounder than they did
twenty years ago. We've learned
rhroLigh hard experience that
without private self-government in
oLir personal life, public selt-go\ern-
ment is just not possible.

The Statue of Liberty is a good
example of what Americans me.m by
freedom, e\en though it was de-
signed m France. Put yourself m the
place of the sculptor given the
.issignment to celebrate the distinc-
ti\e American i^lea of liberty,
different from what "liberte" mearis
m French. What sort ot image
should he create'

First, being French, he knew
libertN would ha\e to be svmbolized
by a woman, not a warrior. For the
French, a woman is tlie traditional
svmbol for wisdom. Wisdom is
further signified by her holding in
one hand a torch, re(iresenting light
against darkness, sturm, ignorance,
passion, bigotry, hatiwl. .And in her
other hand is a bmik inscribe^l
"177^," me.ininu the IVclar.ition of
the "Tniths We I lold." This IS a
distinctixe idea ot libertv, libertv
through reason: ordeiwl libert\'.

And look .It the fice of that
woman: sc\ere, resolute, purposeful,
she knows exacth where she's going
and where we're going. (Hers is the
face ot everv third-gr.ide teacher m
the bistorv of Kew York dtv.1 She
does not represent libertinism, tb.it
L.idv; II is ordered liberty that she
repix'sents, libert\ m l.iw, soul
contirmed m sdl-eontrol,

SikIi a \ ision is not limited to one
i.(uintr\. It max have been ^.TTrated
lirst b\ ihe .Xmeric.in e\p<.'ninent,
but something m it .ippeaU to ilu-
(.111 ire human r.ice, e\ei\ member i>t
which IS i..ipable ot ih.it liberix. Tb.it
Is what the French s.iw so cleaiK.

Tod.iy, howe\er, regarding the

teaching of \irtue, we face a prob-
lem, namely that the vast majoritv' of
Americans are religious, and of that
small percentage that is not religious,
most pride themselves on high
ethical standards. In so pluralistic a
nation, we each leam values, virtue,
and character in different languages
and different traditions. The Baptists
stress virtues and values that the
Lutherans don't. Episcopalians and
Methodists stress still others. Catho-
lics and Jews others again. And in
our different ethnic traditions,
emphasis is also diverse, jews from
Eastern Europe are not like jews
from Spain. Blacks from different
cultures in Africa differ from black
cultures here in the United States.
Shivs and Italians and Latins and
J.ipanese are not quite like Anglo
Saxons.

We differ in our lariguages, in our
response to optimism and pessimism.
m the emotions we like to show in
our worship, .md in the images and
cadences we use with words like
"famtlv," or "brother," or "sister," and
.1 whole host ot other words.

Well, cultures differ, along a
whole number of indicators. Arid the
problem is that in public it's veiv
difficult to speak about all these dif-
ferences. So when we speak together,
we c.m't just speak our own particu-
l,ir langu.ige; we have to adapt to the
(itbets m the group. L nfortunatelv.
the easiest .id.ipt.ition is to speak at
the lowest common denominator, to
tmd something thete so neutral that
we can .ill .igree .ibout it. ex'en on a
\ er\ low le\ el. That can sometimes
be like st.mdmg m eighteen inches
ot pe.mut butter. It doesn't allow us
to express our deepest feelings and
our deepest commitments and the
nuances ot our thoughts.

Theretore. in public education, in
,1 l.irge plur.ilistic school, or eveii m a
school as sm.ill ,is .Agnes SctUt. it is
ditticult tki spe.ik to the \ .irietv in our
midst. We h.ne got to de\ i.se. m a
plur.ilistic culture such as our own. a
new w ,i\ for celebrating both our
uiiit\ .is ,1 pl.inet.iiv people coming
trom e\ery where, and our capacity to

22 FAll 1989

understand the differences that each
ot us brings with us.

This attention to pluralism means
that we are going to have to accept a
more lively argument in the public
forum. We are going to have to allow
each of us to speak in her or his own
particular voice. At the same time,
we must each try to reach a deeper
understanding cif one another. One
route is to boil everything down to
the lowest common denominator, a
very shallow way. Another is to take
pleasure in and to enjoy the difler-
ences among us, because each of
these differences teaches us a new-
way of looking at things. That way
we come to appreciate our own way
of being, and why we don't teel the
same way about certain public e\ents
that others do, or why we react
differently and sometimes in ways we
can't explain entirely, e\-en to
ourselves.

It we are able to do this, our public
forum will be very lively indeed
lively with the multiple voices in our
midst. And our society will be alive
with argument. The trick will be to
keep our arguments civil, not to

enunciate our differences so as to
intimidate tithers, but so as to find a
deeper level in which to join to-
gether with others.

Now such an effort will also ha\e
practical effects. What is it, tor
example, that makes so many ot the
new Asian immigrants to the United
States show superior performance in
our educational system? It's incred-
ible, the test scores and the results
they achieve. We've seen nothing
quite like it in such numbers. What
causes this? All signs point to a
strong family lite, strongly emphasiz-
ing self-discipline and a commitment
to excellence. Thar is to say, all signs
point to the tcirmation ot character
in the family. For education cannot
occur apart from the efforts of the
student. Merely hearing intormation
isn't enough. One must labor ro
master it, to appropriate it, an^l to
make it part ot the fiber ot one'> own
mind. The point ot education is to
ch.mge one's self.

As Plati) said, learning is like
giving birth, like midwifing a change
in one's self Education is nor jusr
learning some information to pass a

rest; it's learning to think in a new
way, to teel new feelings, to learn new
judgments, and new points ot view,
which tore\er alter the ways in which
one looks at rhings. The point of
education is to change one's own
being, and to change one's own habits
ot seeing.

Character is thus basic to all
successful education. You won't
acquire it unless you apply yourself,
in\olve yourself, and hold yourself to
high standards. Character is also, of
course, basic to all successful civic life
in a democratic republic, because if
we are not responsible citizens, there's
no one else to govern. We, the
people, are sovereign. It we can't
discipline ourseK'es and be willing to
pay tor what we want, then we're
simply bankrupting ourselves. And
rliar would mean the collapse ot the
klea ot selt-go\ernment.

Tins, at least, was Jefferson's \'iew.
Consider the emphasis he placed
upon character formation in the
statutes oi the Unix'ersity ot Virginia,
tor which he wantei.1 along with the
Declaration nt Independence mosr to
be rememl^ere>.l.

Attention fo p/ , ^^Wcrsity, mea^

that "we the p ,obo>'*

occcpt a more /,v , .^ ^V^e P"**'" ''-">i.

AGNES SCOTT MAGAZINE 23

What IN chanicrcr.' Character
doesn't mean the part a character
plays in the nioxies. It means the
hundle ot liahirs, a stahle dispositmn,
that makes our actions predictahle to
others and to oLirseK'es. As v\hen
someone says, "That's not like her,"
or "That's out ot character."

Part ot character is a L;itt, as when
people recoL;ni:e that they owe more
than they can e\er say to their
mothers and tathers hecause when
they themscKes were ti)o \'oiin,L; to
choose, their p.irents tormed in them
good solid hahits. Rut part of it also
comes from our own selt-conscious
decisions, when we hei;in to choose
wh.it to do with the yitts we'\e heen
t;i\en. We can l;o ayainst them, we
can rebel. We can strengthen parts ot
w hat we learned trom our parents,
dimmish other parts. We can turn
our attention m ,i thoLisantl new
directioris. In that w;iy, v\e partly
create ourseK'es. We create our own
character. This is the central business
of human lite, especi.ilK in a selt-
L;o\erninL; republic.

This IS what Martin Luther KinL;,
jr., meant when he spoke ot "the
content ot their character." l^ur
trainers, like Ivini;, un^lerstoo^l that
tlu'te ,ire such things as s^oo^l charac-
ters and b.kl characters; when they
talked about character, the\ ob\i-
oiisK mi^Mnt uood ch.iracter.

hat IS mHxl character.' The
pc imt occurs in the \'er\
lirst paragraph ot the
Federalist Papers, m which
1 lamilton wrik's that it
"si,x'ms to ha\e been re-
ser\ed to the people ot this
Loiintr\, bv their conduct
and example, lo decide
the important i|uestion, whether so-
cielies ot iiK-n are re.ilU capable or
not ot establishini; uood uoxernmenl
trom retlei.lion an^l choke . . . ."
More than an\ other people in
hisioiA, the eaiK' .AiiK'rkans wanted
tc) buikl ,1 ci\ iliz.iiion b\ muliipKinu
acts ot retlection and ot choice.

"Retleclion" means lookini; back
on the past and seeinL; alternatnes in

It, wishing yoti had not done this and
beiHL; ylad you did that. Then you
must "choose" choose amonj^ the
alternati\'es which ones you approve
ot, and which ones you are sorry tor.
Similarly, it means looking ahead to
the turure and retlecting on various
alternatives. Retlecting means seeing
ditterenr possibilities. Where will you
li\e ten vears trom now.' And what
religion will you he.' What will he
your politics.' The chances are, these
are not tixed. You could have a big
change m your political views or
your religious \aevvs.

Nobody can he reflective all the
time (thank God). But you want to
increase the number of reflective,
chosen things you're doing, so that
you're reliable. You want to be the
sort of person, that when you say
something, people know you mean
It, that you have thcjught about
things, that you are worth listening
to. And when you'\'e made a
decision, you'\'e made a decision. (.A
friend of one oi our children once
said of her mom: "There's no use
asking her that; 1 know my mom.
When she makes a decision, she

,oo.,.eo,^^^^.^^^,,e.

as much

oO'rfe open fo i. . . > **'''"9 ^o/

choices OS po,,^,^^ ^^^ ^^^ ^^,,,.ho9Ht.ess,3..

It's extr,utrdinar\ to be a people
m .1 countr\ with that much open-
ness. Ii is sonietimcs trightcning.
There are times in lite when we
can't tind .i purpose. There are too
main purposes, ,ind we don't know
which to (.hoose.

Retleclion and choice are the two
ke\ consiiiuenis ol ch.ir.icter. To
.icqiiire ,i good character is to keep
as much ot lite open to being
letleciiw and to m.ikmg real choices
as possible, and not doing things b\"
whim, by bigiitry or by p;ission.

means it." The mother was quite
proud to he.ir that. Well, she should
ha\e been. It meant her daughter
thinks her ntvuher is retlecti\"e, and
that when she makes a choice, she's
thought It through.'*

1 low do we teach character' First,
we ha\e to talk about it, emphasire
It, call attention to it. Out of the
blooming, bu::ing confusion ot life
there .ire onl\ so manv things a
person can concentrate on. Charac-
ter is the most important, because it
affects e\erything else. \\ e'\e got to

I 24FAtt 1'

select out from experience the
importance of habits, oi selt-Jisci-
pline, of self-mastery, of character.
Because otherwise, most just don't
pay any attention. The young don't
know the price they will pay later for
not paying attention to it now. For
some things, later is tot) late.

Often youngsters wish they had
done things differently. It's never too
late in one sense, but it's too late for
some things. The sooner the young
start paying attention to character,
the better

Second, we ha\-e to put our

Third, we must have ceremonies
to celebrate character. We've got to
have ceremonies about Madison,
Jefferson, Martin Luther King, Jr.,
and many others. The ideas they had
were different, and the heroism they
practiced when iither people said,
"Don't do It, you're crazy, you'll get
hurt," deserves attention. Often,
they stood alone. At such moments
in our li\'es, examples of others who
ha\'e done so give us courage.

Tliere have to be ceremonies in
which youngsters see by the seriou.s-
ness ot the adults around them that

concern for character into words. It
we don't put these things into words,
people won't pay attention. That's
why our forebears put so much stress
on maxims; they put them on the
wall, they put them on calendars,
they put them in textbooks. We
don't do that so much today. We
suffer for it. There are important
lessons of life that you don't appreci-
ate when you're younger, hut it's
good to learn them anyway, so that
when you hit the rough spots they're
there to fall back on.

such occasions are serious. Such
ceremonies dramatize crucial ex-
amples ot how to conduct oneselt in
difficult times. They show how good
persons have acted. Tliey show how
to do likewise.

And we have to encourage one
another in the virtues for friendship's
sake, because what we actually love
in others, it always turns out, are
their virtues, their honesty, their
perseverance, their endurance. It we
don't encourage these in one an-
other, we don't encourage the

grounds of personal friendship, or
e\-en the grounds of civic friendship,
which unite us as a people. Friend-
ship ot thiN Inroad sort is all the free
republic has to rely on. A tree
republic has gixx-n tip coercion, so
what we have to hold us together is
the friendships we establish, our
respect for one another's \'irtues, our
respect for the content ot one
another's character.

That was the cu'ic \i,sii)n Martin
Luther King, Jr., was reaching out to
m his deservedly famous speech. He
selected an important thread in lite
on which to concentrate. He put it
inrn words. He de\'eloped ceremonies
in which to celebrate it. He built
many friendships, and encouraged
the best in many hearts. We have
had many exemplars of character and
\ irtue m this republic nobody
pertect, hut many who were beacons
tur others. He was one.

Our task as educators is to help
those we work with to become as
good as the best in the past, in all our
many traditions.

Wicluicl Niivak Incscmly kiLls the
George Frederick jewett Chair in
Religion ami Public Policy at the
Amencan Enterprise Institute in Wash-
in;^on, D.C. , u'fit;re he serves as
director of social and political studies.

He's the author of over twenty books
on phihjsophy, politics, economics aivi
ciikiire, including The Rise ot the
Unmeltable Ethnics (1^72) and
Liberty and Justice for All ( J986).

/)i 1974 he foia\ded the Ethnic
Xiillions Political Action Committee and
campaigned for the creation of a White
House Office of Ethnic Affairs . The
project found a home in the Ford
Administration arid continued under
President Carter.

Bom injohristown, Pcnn., Michael
Novak gradiuited swmrui cian Liude
from Stonehill College in 1956 arid two
years later received a bachelor's degree in
theology from the Gregorian University
in Rome. He graduated from Harvard
University in 1965 ivith a master's
degree in the history and philosophy of
religion .

AGNES SCOTT MAGAZICJE 25

Simmering
Stew

BY SERGIO MUNOZ

CALIFORNIA HAS BECOME THE PACIFIC
RIM'S MELTING POT, BUT WITHOUT
BEHER EDUCATION FOR ITS NEW-
COMERS, THE FUTURE LOOKS BLEAK,

Iiim not a teacher. I am a His-
panic juurnalist who works tor a
Spanish lan^uatie newspaper in
CaUtomia, La Opinum. 1 ha\e
heen a teacher though, and 1
believe in the value iif education.
Furthermore, I believe that ei.lu-
catiiin is the smule most impor-
tant issLie tor the 1 lispanic com-
munity. Thus, the idea of discussing
m this public torum what and how
shall we teach is x'cry attracti\'e to
me.

1 couldn't a,L;ree more with Dr.
Novak's call tor excellence.
Strengthening owr character will
indeed make us better persons and
better citizens.

I also agree with him that it is
neces,sary for each student to make
an individual effort to achieve
excellence.

Hiiwever, it seems to me that Dr.
No\'ak's presentation, even when it
rectignizes that we live in a plural-
istic society, elaborates the iiotion
that the United States is one homo-
geneous society.

I don't belie\e that we li\e m a
homogeneous societN. 1 don't ihmk
there is equal treatment tor all
persons regarLlless ot their economic
situ. II ion. 1 think the color ot skin
still m.ikes a dilterence in the \\a\
people ,ire tre.ited and 1 don't think
luinoritN' chiklren are gi\en the s.iiue
educational opportunities tb.it their
Anglo counterparts recene.

Furthermore, 1 think th.it until

Sergio Muiio:: HiS/KDi/c.'^ in the L'.S. must first rcdch cqudity hcjorc they can c.wc/

these inequalities ,ire rea^ldressed, we
as a people will not succeed in our
quest tor excellence.

To describe this n.ition ot immi-
grants somebod\ c, tiled it the "melt-
ing pot." In Los .Angeles it is c. tiled
the "salad bowl," perh.ips recognizing
that we ,ire /iindis poo ui> rcyiidti's.
Togetlu'i i^ut not mixeil.

Assimilation is ,i two-wa\ e\-
ch.inge and it happens on ditterent
le\ els: structurally, culturally, eco-
nomically, psvchologicallv and
biologicalK. In the 1 lisp.inic comniii
nitv the ,issimikiti\ e t.ictors outweigh

the dtssimtlatixe oiies, vet we ,ire snl
either ,i threat or a mvsten," to main-
stream .America.

Yes, we are different trom the
.Amenciii stereotvpe. The closeness
to our tatherlaiid, Mexico, makes it
difficult tor us to a.ssimilate as the
Europeans did, but that does not
make Hispanics bad .Antericaiis.

M.mv t.ictors differentiate the
1 Itsp.tnic experience, but the will to
beloiig IS the same .is th.it ot anv
other group ot aii\ other origin.

.As the new wa\e ot immigration
beci.nfies a tact of lite in America,

26 FAIL 1989

everyone would benefit to under-
stand the Hispanic experience.

And please, let me be very clear.
We Hispanics value self-discipline
and selt-master>' and all those traits
that define character. Even more, we
cherish such values as fairness and
the belief that diversity' is a plus.

Like the new Asian immigrants,
we believe in a strong family lite. We
show respect for our elders and we
are an optimistic group. Our faith in
tomorrow springs out of necessity.

We want to participate in the
larger society, but we also want to
maintain our language and tradi-
tions. We feel this will make us
richer citizens; that bilingualism is
better than monolingualism. In
many ways, including our perform-
ance on the battlefield, Hispanics
have proven to be loyal Americans.

According to the latest
census figures, 19 million
Hispanics live in the U.S.
This number does niit con-
sider the undocumented
population, which may add
perhaps 3 million more.
California is our fa\-orite
place of residence 33
percent of all Hispanics in the U.S.
live there. There are many reasons
why we live in California. One is the
impressive economic growth of the
state. Yet the human phenomenon
in California is far more interesting
than the state's gross domestic
product or the record-high levels of
productivity. California has become
the gateway for new immigrants.
Thousands of people from all over
Latin America and the nations of
the Pacific Rim arrive daily to the
West Coast's version of Ellis Island.

Most Hispanic immigrants are
young people. The median age is 22,
and nowhere is our youthfulness
more evident than at school. This is
the good news. Right now, of the
600,000 students in the Los Angeles
Unified School District, 59.6 per-
cent are Hispanic. Surveys report
that Hispanic parents and students
have higher educational aspirations

than those of any other group.

Now the bad news: in 1988 abotit
65 percent of the kids in kindergar-
ten were Hispanic; of 26,880 seniors
who graduated in June '88, 10,365
were Hispanic, or 39 percent; 17,543
children dropped out of the 10th,
11th and 12th grades. Of these,
9,001 were Hispanic: 51 percent of
all dropouts. This disproportionate
rate of attrition means that our needs
will exceed our future opportunities.
Without education, our future loiiks
bleak.

But why is this happening '

To explain this complex and mul-
tifaceted reality, some people have
proposed a one-dimensional answer:
Hispanics do not support education
and their children are incapable of
achieving. This nonsensical and
racist approach intends to justify the
failures of our edticational institu-
tions with a cliche.

"Such beliefs," writes Dr. Artur(.)
Madrid, one of the many outstanding
Hispanic educators, "betray a lack of
understanding of American realities
and Hispanic conditions. Our history
has been one of exclusion from the
life of U.S. institutions, not the least
from educational institutions."

We Hispanics have been long
ignored and now when we are recog-
nized it IS with a stigma: we are a
problem, a deficit, non-participants
in the life of the society. This dis-
course should be avoided, as it traps
us in parodies and stereotypes a
people deprived of character.

For every stereotype that tries to
diminish our stature as a people, I
can counter with numerous examples
of a hard-working, creative, resource-
ful and tenacious population.

To those who doubt our capacity
for hard work, 1 invite them to work
one day in the fields picking straw-
berries; to those who deny our crea-
tivity, I suggest that they become
acquainted with the vibrant expres-
sions of our painters, sculptors, poets
and novelists; to those who don't
believe in our resourcefulness, I
invite them to survive in a marginal-
ized world and prosper as we have

done; to those who are skeptical
.ibout our tenacity, 1 would ask them
zo visit Garfield High School and
talk to Professor Jaime Escalante and
the students he prepares for the
ad\'anced calculus exams. There they
could understand what determina-
tion really means.

What has happened is that we
have been excluded from main-
stream America.

Professor Madrid says that despite
the fact that he is an American
citizen by birth, whose ancestors'
presence in America predates the
Pilgrims at Plymouth Rock, his
normal experience is to be asked,
"Where are you from'"

His physical appearance, his
speech patterns, his name and even
his profession (a Spanish professor)
make people see him as "the other."

Tliere were many other things
that made him realize as a young boy
that he indeed was "the other."

Madrid grew up in a small village
in New Mexico where most people
were of Hispanic descent; yet in
newspapers, magazines, books and
movies, on radio and television,
nobody looked or scuinded like him,
his family or friends. The outside
world was wide, but belonged to
someone else: the Americanos.

School became an opportunity "to
become an Americano." He learned
the Pledge of Allegiance and how to
speak English.

He learned the language but he
also learned that the corollary to
learning English was forgetting his
knowledge of Spanish.

As difficult as it is to believe, I
know many Hispanics who were hit
by their teachers and scorned by
their peers for speaking Spanish.

"Being the other," writes Professor
Madrid, "is feeling different. It means
being outside the circle, being on the
edges. Otherness results in feeling
excluded, closed out, precluded,
disdained and scorned."

Have things really changed from
the time when Arturo was a child?
Yes, to a certain extent. Yet there are
still quite a few problems with the

AGNES SCOTT MAGAZINE 27 I

educational programs that Hispanics
in the U.S. have to endure. The
education provided to our children is
so deficient that, unless we change it
dramatically, we will never catch up
as a group and excellence will he
achieved only hy a few inelividuals
at an enormous price.

To pro\'c my assertion, let me gi\'e
you some facts about our schools.

Latinos are concentrated in very
large schools where there is hardly
any student interaction with adults,
he they teachers or principals.

Our schools are perpetually uni.lcr-
funded. At the rate the school popu-
lation is growing, there is already the
need for additional funding merely to
stay even with current levels.

Most of the Hispanic children
who attend school have limited
proficiency in English. To make
them more proficient, we can try
many methods, but most educators
believe that bilingual education is
the fastest and best method to
achieve language proficiency.

in L.A. there is now a serious
contrast between teachers and
students. The average teacher is
white, 50 years old, monolingual in
English, underpaid and thinking
about retirement: the typical student
is young, Hispanic, pcxir, almost
bilingual and ciimes from a cultiiralK
distinct background.

The mismatch is es'ident and the
consequences tragic. We not only
have a severe dropout problem, but
also a severe push-out problem,
stemming from boredtim.

The question then becomes what
do we do so th.it our chiklien can
achieve a qualit\ education.'

As Estela I lertcra, a colleague ,it
L;; Opinio?! pointei.1 out in restimony
before the Civil Rights (. "ommission,
"Tightening standards akme will
solve nothing until all students haw
an CLiLial chance of accomplishing
these higher goals. By 1990 there
will be half a million more students
in the schools ,ukI a disproportion-
ately large number of them will not
speak English, will live below the
po\-erty line, and will have physical

and emotional handicaps. Because of
these factors, the schoc^l system will
require more funds just to provide
services at current level."

In other words, we must first reach
equality st) that we can then excel.

Even so, this is not an easy task.
There is ample evidence of the gap
between Hispanic children and
children from other ethnic hack-
grounds; we still lack appropriate
preventive and remedial programs
for our children.

Faced with this nightmarish
landscape, where do we meet.' Dr.
Novak has chosen virtue as an essen-

tial \'alue. Virtuous will be he or she
who possesses self-^liscipline, self-
masteiA, autonomv and freedom from
passion. Ignorance and preiudice. In
other words, he or she who has
character. It there is a disnnctne
feature of the I Iispanic experience iii
the United States, I would describe it
in terms of self-disciplme, selt-
masterx, and character. It voii don't
have these qualities you don't le,i\e
\our homeland, endure the long and
pamtul |ourne\ to\\ai\ls the North
and h,i\e optimism tor your future as
we I lispanics i.\o.

But \irtue should not me.m onl\
self-disciplme, selt-master\ aiul
character. It should mean placing
\alue on the differences among us

and striving for a harmony based on
this respect. Hispanics are different,
but this is a virtue, not a detriment.
This difference should not mean a
reduction in our quality of life.

What we should accomplish is
the actualization of the old Ameri-
can dream of equal opportunitv" for
the tired, the poor, and the un-
wanted who come here.

By the first half of the nineteenth
century-, Charles Fourier had con-
ceived the perfect place in which to
live. A society devoid of injustice,
\ice and crime. The name of this
place was Harmony and he chose
the name to fit within a musical
context. He was proposing an estab-
lished order made up ot variations
and contrasts that would be rest~>lved
in chords.

This idea of Fourier struck me as a
concept that somehow prefigured my
\ision of the United States. Where
else in the world can we find such
diversity? Wliere else had there been
a nation of immigrants struggling
and succeeding to obtain a national
identity? We should join forces with
the advocates of the plural choir and
de\'ote our effort towards reaching
harmony. Let's arrange the voices in
concert and create a symphony
where the bass complements the
soprano and supports the baritone.
Harmony is the goal: variations and
cotittasts ate welcomed.

Scrsjio Mh?1(i: iciis Kini and reared in
Wcxico Cn^. He moved to the United
States ten years ap;o, when he joined La
Opinioti, the nation's oldest and largest
Sl\mish'langiiag,e neuspiapier. He series
tLs the paper's exeeudve editor.

He uiis a teacher for tuenty years .
instructing students from kiridergarten
i( ) graduate school in such diverse
subjects as histo)-y. Spanish, philosophy,
civics, and literature.

"For the past teti \ai)-.<." he states.
"I've worked toward hdldinga multi-
national, multi-lingual. ini(]ti-ci<iri<u]i
,S()ciL'r\ and I'm convinced that this
multiplicity has given me the opportu-
nity to understand better the complex
world we live in."

28 TALI

Teaching
by the Book

BY J JEROME HARRIS

AMERICANS HAVE CREATED A CULTURE
THAT SUPPORTS FAILURE AND A
SCHOOL SYSTEM THAT LEADS THE WAY

Iua^ Lloing all right with voLir
speech, Mike, until you got down
and hegan to quote Jefferson, and
I iu>t stopped listeniiig. We hold
Jerterson up as a man ot values,
hut yoLi have read of Jefterson's
relationship with people that are
dark and different, and learned
something he did down m
Virginia hesides huild an institution.
1 understand his relationship with
the slaves, but Jefferson is not the
one that's going to get to me about
values.

I was also cimcemed when 1
looked at our panel here and I saw
that there's one Hispanic and two
blacks. My paranoia says that in this
country-, it that's the case, there's
another set of values or something
going on, and I don't understand.
Well, 1 do understand.

It we want to talk about educa-
tion how can we teach we have
to consider some basic facts. One is
chat the inequity in our American
education derives from our failure to
teach those students that are dark
and different, those who are poor.
The truth is that schools teach those
that they think they must teach; the
ones that they think they shouldn't
teach, they just don't bother to
teach. The truth of the matter is that
our kids know how to learn in more
ways. But we kind of equalize that
because we know how to teach in
some ways, so that most of them
can't learn. And we choose to do
that time and time again.

But there's never been a time in
the life of the American school

lerome Harris: Values chiinae accoTtliiitj u> those who are sttnulin.t; oi front of t/iL

when [educators and policymakers]
haven't known all we need to know
in order to teach those that we
choose to teach. So we are going to
come back and talk about which
values and whose values and he
upfront about our values. The con-
fusing thing is that we have a fairly
decent set ot espoused values, but our
values and actions are something

altogether different. And you'll find
that many ot us now, after so long
seeing what you do, no longer hear
what you say.

So we talk about the value ot
education in Los Angeles and how
we wish to educate the Hispanic.
And you have Garfield High School
and you have a teacher over there
who's done such a marvelous job of

AGNES scon MAGAZINE 29 I

getting' many at those kids to pass
the SAT, that a movie was made
about him. And he knows how to
teach kids from the harrio. Antl heV
been there tive, seven years. Two
miles down the road, there's Roose\-
elt High Schook ani.1 nobody ha>
found out how to transfer that
knowledge from Gartiekl to Roose-
velt. In tact, they haven't even
transferred it from Garfield to the
other math classes in Garfield,
because there are more than two
math classes in Garfield. That can't
be an accident. The values ot this
country say that we don't want to
educate those kids.

Basically in this cotintry there is a
clear conspiracy, and that conspiracy
is designed to keep kids in the
dark "poor, dumb nigger." The
problem with the conspiracy is that
it is a co\ert conspiracy. People don't
even have to get together to conspire
because they can just do it intui-
tively. They don't have to wake u]^
and say, "How am I going to keep
them down today?" When e\'crybody
wakes up, it's already been designee!.
We already know what we ha\'e to
do, atui we do it.

The problem is that v\e are all
conspirators . . . e\en me. We're all
(.loing it because the culture ani.1
system we ha\e tierce us to do it.

So we need to begin, I rhmk, to
speak to behaviors and not to \alues,
because we know, clearly, that the
i.litterence in pupils' performance
.seems to be attributed to factors that
are directly under control ot the
schools. Rut we would rather be-
licN'e because Iww else cart you
exi^lain to those kids at Gartiekl that
learned a hi'.;her math- that kids'
learning abilities are attributed lo
factors on which the school h.is no
infliiellci.' something like their
lamiK, their income, then r.ice, aiivl
other Items ot th.ii nature.

Now know that |these t,iciors| Ao
pla\ a part. W\\ we can lind kids
liom .limost an\ race, .in\ economic
level, an\' home circunist.inci.-, tb.it
can do \w\\ 111 st,h<nil. .AikI dn well
in school.

When 1 was in school, we found
exceptions to the rule. We could not
have law if there were exceptions to
it, and 1 imagine that still holds.
One of the things we need to do is to
take the natural conflicts that are in
our society and milk them, massage
them, so that we can bring about a
new order that allows all persons in
the salad bowl to begin to p.irticipate
in our society.

How cari we have a socier\- that
has too many choices?

That's what freedom is about.
Freedom is about choices. The more
choices you ha\e, the freer you are.

Our democracy is

sedtobe

n choices.

io wre hove to

prepare our ^

to make;

choices and to see ai

of the choices.

It \'ou ha\'e only one choice, that's
what we talked about as Gommu-
nism. There aren't an\ choices, l^^ur
i.leniocrac\' is suppose^! to i^e b.ised
on choices, so we ha\e to prepare
our students. We ha\e to prep, ire our
students to make w ise choices ,ind to
see all of the choices. The more
choices the\' cm see, the better oft
we ,ii'e.

Htfectne schools are as eager to
.ibort those things that don't wi>rk ,is
the\ are Io lind things th.il do work.
We li,i\e toiind, cle.irU, m,in\ things
that do work. Rut if \ou look .it our
sjiool s\sU'm ,ind see the coiispir.icw
Nou'll see lb, It m ihe R'=>Os or R'POs,

Coleman came out with a report m
which he says basically [that non-
whites are] culturally depri\'ed.
Hispanics have no culture; blacks
have no culture.

By definition I'm certain that we
know at this school, ever\"body's got
a culture, whether it's good or bad.
Ni)body can be culturally deprived.
Culturally deprived that was the
term of the times. And from that
[politicians] passed Chapter 1
Legislation, which was supposed to
place into the schools cultural
experiences of the kind to correct
that cultural deprivation.

That was a long time ago, and it
hasn't been corrected yet. But [the
program] never was designed to
correct [cultural deprivation]
because that was part of the conspir-
acy. They took a school day, from
8:30 to 3:00, and said, "We are going
to put something extra in this school
day, but we are going to do it be-
tween 8:30 and 3:00."

Now, how can vou put somethmi:
into a dav that's already tilled up? It
vou want to do something extra, you
would ha\e to add it either before
the school starts or after school.

Then, the government spent the
rest of the time the next fi\"e, ten.
twenty \ears running around
tr\ing to see it educators were, I
think thev used the word "supplant-
ing." That is, it [schools] were using
federal monev to supplaiit their
other monev.

Rv definition, you have to do that
because it would be used duritig the
s.ime period ot time. So that cultural
depnx Mtioii model Listed ,ind is still
there.

Rut m the sixties, Monahan came
on the scene with .i different set ot
rese,irch for our friend Nixon. His
ad\ ice to Nixon w.is rh.it there is
nothing vou cm do for those people
\ou .ire tr\ing to help . . . rh.it the
best thing \ou caii do is sh\ them

And .ifter this came "deni.il ,iiid
neglect," .mother p.irt of the conspir-
,ic\. Nixon did th.it ^lenx .md

30 I All. 1989

In fact, Reagan picked it up, and it
is still going on denyii-ig and ne-
glecting that which we know. And
in between Reagan and Nixon there
were other scieiitists, Jenson and
Jenks. They said that there is some-
thing genetically wrong with minor-
ity people in this country. [Minori-
ties] will never he able to do anythinu
because they don't have the genes.
And we know I don't buy that.

In the 1970s we did come out with
a bit of research that was important,
and that bit ot research was about the
effect ot schools. It talked about
schools that could work. It talked
about the examples in Garfield. It
talked about the schools that are
here, that are there, that are all over
the country, with large numbers of
minority kids, where all students
have learned. And it looked at those
schools in the files and isolated the
characteristics that cause them to he
effective.

We would much rather belie\'e, as
educators, that the reason our kids
don't learn is because they have the
wrong parents, because they use
drugs, or because they're poor. That
abstains us from having any resptinsi-
bility at all and places all the value
on the child.

So if we talk about values, I'm
paranoid. Because I don't know
whose values we are going to talk
about and who is going to define
those values.

However, I have realized that our
world is always value labeled and in
ever^'thing that we do values are
applied. But I think that we have to
be ever vigilant so that we don't keep
doing the same things in perpetuity
even though the data consistently
reveals that a large portion of the
population gets absolutely nothing
for what it is that we are doing.

This system basically has not
worked for me, it hasn't worked for
many of the poor kids, and surpris-
ingly enough, there's a large white
population that it didn't work for
either. And we need to do some-
thing about that because we can't
ignore the masses of people that the

system is not working for.

What happens when the homeless
outnLimber you? When the homeless
outnumber you, are you going to let
them vote.' If you let them vine, you
know what's going to happen in
ever\- election. They're going to \otc
out whoever is in because the system
will not he working for them. AhlI it
)ou don't let them vote, then you're
talking about a form of government
that is supposed to be alien to us.

We ha\'e a CLilture that supports
failure, and our school system leads
the way. Our schools basically are
designed tor what I call the culture of

Our schools are

the only places In

America designed for

cooperation. In the

school system,

people are suposed

to work together, to

study together.

America. Our schools are the only
place in America designed for
cooperation. In the school system,
people are supposed to work t( >-
gether, study together.

Now, in college or in public
schools, they even tell teachers they
are supposed to teach together. 1 say,
"How are they going to learn how to
teach when nobody will show them
how to do it in college?"

But the school system is built on
cooperation.

Democracy, however, is built on
competition and that's the difter-
ence. Our kids get competition
when they watch television, compe-

tition when they hear the radio.
They get competition when they
read the paper; and when they come
to school, we say, "cooperate." And
that's kind ot hea\'y to them.

You see, cooperation carrieel to a
larger extreme becomes C?ommu-
nism, and that's the thing we are
supposed to hate. Rut I've learned
that v\hen we talk about \alues, that
is, as we talk about values, our values
shift according to where we are. It
Georgia keeps going in the direction
it is going, we will have one school
system run by the state. Understand
the significance ot that. When we
talk about the State of Georgia, we
talk about state rights versus local
rights. We almost lia\e one school
system now run by the state.

The state controls entry and
evaluation to all the public scliools:
who can teach chiklien, how you are
going to evaluate their tCLichers.
And if the state can control all ot
that, it can control what [administra-
tors] are going to do in [schools].

Values chatige according to those
who are standing in front ot them.
So the one thing 1 try to do with my
kids is at least teach them skepti-
cism, so they call at least question
the values.

Because more often than not,
those values are nut in their best

Dr. ) . jcriime Hams was hum and
educated m Raleigh, N .C. He receixvd
de^ees from Shaw University, Tuske-
nee Institute tiiul i^.laremunt Grathune
School.

Dr. Hams he^an his career as a
science teacher in North Carolimz. He
worked for the Los Angeles City School
District from J 960- J 970. Under his
leadership, I\Iew York City's Commu-
nity School District J 3 became the only
predomiriately minority school district in
which more than sixty percent of its
students perfowied at or above gi'ode
Icxcl on standardized reading and
mathematics tests.

Dr. Hamis cunenth serves as
Superintendent i>f the AtLmta Public
School System.

AGNES scon AAAGAZINE 3 1

w n A I

ri ine wuklu ^hall we

E A ^ n f

The

Late-Model

Student

B f iV-. A r I E P E .'/> B E P T Ci I J

TODAY'S STUDENTS ARE DIFFERENT
FROM 1950s' UNDERGRADUATES,
WHAT VALUES WILL A GENERATION
RAISED ON TELEVISION DURING THE
"ME" DECADE TAKE INTO THE FUTURES

THltc arc so many issues in
Michael Novak's talk that I
woiik] like to adJtess; I know
it's impossihie, hut I thought
I woiikl just start hy way of
L|uotiny the epiki^ue ot
Ralph EUiscm'sT/ic /nrrsiWu
Mdii, a very major Ameri-
can classic. Ar the heijin-
nini; of this no\el, the invisihle man
is a youiiL; hoy, almost a teen.itjer,
who luars his t^rancltather's deathheJ
words that have shocked the family.
The t.iinily is much undone hy these
words his f^randtather says to his
father. " 'Son, after I'm ^onc 1 want
you to kee|i up the yootl tiji^ht. 1
ne\er lold vmi, hut our lite is a war
and I ha\e heen a traitor all m\ horn
da\s, a sp\ in the eneiin's couniiA
e\'ei- since I L;i\e up nn L;un h.ick in
the Rcconstrucrion. Li\e wilh your
heai.1 in a lion's moulh, 1 want you to
overcome 'em with \eses, underiiune
'em with ,i;rins, ayree 'em to death
and destruction, let 'em swoller you
till the\ \omit or hiist wide open.'
The\ thouuhl the okl man had !_;one
out ol his mind; he had Ix'en the
meekest ol men. The \oiinL;cr
children were luslu'd Irom the room,
the sh.uk's di.iwn, and iIk' point ot
the l.inip turned so low thai ii
sputlcied on the wkk like the old
man's hicalhint^. 'Le.irn il to the
younL;uns,' he wTiis)iered ficieeK;
then he died."

C Kiyle Pemhetton: The fniouliuii fMhcn' plnrdlism may he diffcrcm for our ncu tti^c.

hii'i,siWc ,\ki)i IS a no\ el ot the wdrds, "hell, he must ha\e meant the

ahsutd, otten surrealistic lourncx that principle, th.it we were to atttrm the
ilu' hiack in\ isihle man I. ikes principle on which the countn wms

ihrouuh this life, in a world where he huili ,ind not the men. or .it le.ist iior

the men who did the \iolence. Pid
he me.m to s.u '\es' hec.uise he knew
th.it the principle w.is crearer than
the men, Lire, iter th.m the numbers
.md the \ icious power and all the
methvvK used to corrupt it.s name.'
Pid he me.m to affirm the principle,
which thev themsehes h.id dreamed
into heute out ot the ch.ios .md

is not si'cn for his iiiilix idiial self, hut
Is si'cn |iist .IS hl.ick. .md lu'nce, not
see'ii.

So .it the \ er\ end ot the epilomie
|i1k' proi. Ironist I is siill wonderinL:
,ihout these words, these woi\K th.il
h.iw h.uinted him tor twent\ \e.iis,
so he sa\s, "C 'ould he h.i\ c mcmt, '
and he's s]XMkinu of his i^r.indf.ither's

32 lAII 1989

darkness ot the feudal past, and
which they had violated and com-
promised to the point of absurdity,
even in their own corrupt minds? Or
did he mean that we had to take the
responsibility tor all of it, for the
men as well as the principle, because
we were the heirs who must use the
principle because no other fitted our
needs? Not tor the power or for
indication, but because we, with the
given circumstance of our origin,
could only thus tind transcendence?
Was it that we ot all, we, most ot all,
had to aftirm the principle, the plan
in whose name we had been brutal-
ized and sacrificed not because we
would always be weak nor because
we were afraid or optimistic, but
because we were older than they, in
the sense ot what it took to live in
the world with others and because
they had exhausted in us, some not
much, but some of the human
greed and smallness, yes, and the tear
and superstition that had kept them
running."

He goes on.

He's still answering the question,
still stuck with this, ultimately
coming to the conclusion that his
grandfather's words were right tor his
grandfather's time. Out of Recon-
stniction, giving up his gun, he had
developed a method ot living that
still aftirmed the principle but that
he could not take his grandfather's
words and superimpose them on his
lite and have them give the meaning
that he needed in modem times.

Let me take a very large leap. It's
connected. I've been intrigued by
the television advertising slogan,
and I think this is a national cam-
paign. If it isn't, I'm lost. "This is not
your father's Oldsmobile." Good.

Much comes to my mind. First
literally, the picture of the automo-
bile on the screen is not my father's
Oldsmobile. My father had a Pack-
ard, later a Buick.

Now, my grandfather had an
Oldsmobile, from the days ot
Florence Henderson and Bill Hayes
singing the Oldsmobile song. It was
wrecked one afternoon as I was

sitting at a stoplight in Kansas City,
Missouri, when a driver, impatient
with the evening rush hour and who
unknowingly cut oft a monster truck,
which plowed into me. My grand-
father's Olds was in smithereens.

1 also suspect the car in the
picture is not your father's, or your
grandfather's, Oldsmobile either. But
all this being said in spite of the
literalist mentality driving most
television ads, one of the lower
common denominators. 1 suspect the
ad people don't expect me to go

Many of my students

>vatch television and

come to my classes

^th a highly articu-

lated belief that

having values means
having means-

means, not meaning.

eiuite as far as 1 have with one
possible and very personal reading ot
their slogan. So I go to another
reading, on a broader, but not
necessarily less literal, level.

"This is not your father's Oldsmo-
bile" suggests that the new sleek
1 989 model on the screen is for a
new generation new technology
lighter materials. (Oldsmohiles were
always thought to be heavy cars
where 1 came from.) You missed your
chance is another reading. There
could be a gender reading, "It is
not definitely is not your
mother's Oldsmobile."

Now, if I gauge the age group
appeal correctly, I'm probably closer

in age to the mother v\'ho ^lidn't get a
chance to drive an Oldsmobile,
hea\y cars. After all women old
enough to be my mother, if they
dro\e at all, were expected to drive
tentatively, and not well, Nash
Ramblers. The age groups oi the
fathers in these ads is mid-fittyish, so
these tiftyish mothers drove Fords
and Chevys, whose station wagons
were heavy cars, and the price of
which was not comparable to Dad's
l^klsmobilc.

1 shouldn't he too critical. The
images and texts of the love aftair
with automobiles have always been
male. "Drive away with me, Lucille,
in my brand new Oldsmobile." Or
take what reportedly is the ultimate
driving experience the German
road cars the Porsche, the Mer-
cedes-Ben:, the BMW. You will not
see a woman driving the American
businessman with his West German
counterparts on the Autobahn at
160 kilometers per minute.

There's another reading. As a
black American woman, 1 also read
"this is not your Oldsmobile" along
racial lines, except for the argument
of cultural imagery about blacks of
my generation. My father, it he could
aftord a car at all, would not ha\e
been caught dead in an Oldsmobile.
Another GM variety, also called the
Buick Electra 225 by the GM
catalog, is what my father should
have driven.

Actually, my father was in race
relations, made very little money,
and concluded that the economy
Buick was as far as he could go for
the sake ot propriety. To drive a
Chevy made him look unprofes-
sional; to drive a big Oldsmobile or
Buick made him look as if he made
too much money. He didn't want to
send messages that might be misread.
When he died, he owned a mid-sized
Pontiac.

I'm suggesting that the four
readings of "This is not your father's
Oldsmobile" that I have mentioned
have some variety of value attached
to them. Granted, values range from
my sense gleaned over the years from

AGNES scon MAGAZINE 33

himdcd-down wisdom that an
Oldsmohilc is a terrific, once com-
paratively expensi\-e car, that
appealed to white men. The only
news in ihis tor you, 1 suspect, are
the levels ot personal n,irr,iti\e 1 add.

What really hothers me al^oiit this
ad reciLiires more narration. !'\e seen
it in three \anations: Two sons and
one daut^hter of celebrities are
featured, in each the chiki says,
"Look what my father had to do to
get this Olcismohile." Monte Hall of
"Let's Make a Deal" fame had to
cnersee thousands of presLimahly
normal citizens dressed m ndiculoLis
costumes, throw up, yush, antl
otherwise make tools of themseK'es
in order to win |^ri:es, to t^et his
Oldsmohile.

In another, an astronaut haLl to
show the extraordinary skill, cour-
age, and mental af,'ility to fly to the
moon. I can't remember what the
third d.w\ did, hut he i.lid something
to get his l^tldsmol^ije, anil the
children, satisfied anel content, s.iid,
"All I ha\e to do to get my Oldsmo-
hile IS to go see my l")ldsmohile
elealer." As the ,iel ends, fading into
the sunset. Dad climhs into the
passenger seat ani.1 lets the child
dri\'e him away.

My fifth reading of this ad cam-
paign hothers me for il says that [\k\
has to lIo some kind ot work for his
Oldsmohile stupid, courageous,
banal, hard whatewr. 1 le workei.1
tor II, v\'hile the chikl mereK' plunks
down money the source of which
IS really unclear but it is implk'd,
"Had ga\'e it to him/her" to get the
car to dri\e the ol' gee:er home.

Something is amiss in all of this
for me. The source ot my an\iet\ is a
television ,id, not a scholarK text.
And it \ou are prone ti i dismiss m\
concc'rn becausi,' ii is |usi a (.ommei-
cial, lei me remind \ini ihal our
|iolitical (.ampaigns have been
commercials for years. 'Written h\ ad
peo|ile tor a publk that lhe\ assume
can and will onl\ read \ isual text less
than one minute long, and who will
not agonize omt the w iled suiM>.-xt
therein. 1 do not know wbeiher this

new Oldsmohile c.impaign will be
successftil. What I do know is that to
me It reinforces the something-for-
nothing attitude/dream/desire that
has permeated our culture for a
longer time than the last two
generations, an^l which shows e\'ery'
indication of spreading worldwide.
You may not watch television or
pay any attention to commercials;
my colleagues may not either. Histo-
rians, philosc>phers, literary' critics,
and policymakers may abhor
tele\'ision ads and mv use of one as a

This ad campaign

reinforces the "some-

thing-for-nothing^

attitude that has

permeated our cul-
ture for two genera-

brldwide.

text. Rut manv of my students do
watch telexision ,ind come to mv
classes with a highK articulated belief
that ha\iiig \alues means ha\ ing
me. Ills )ik'(i?i>, not meaning. The\
beliexe that \alues are pergonal and
relati\e, anil that making as much
mone\ as possible b\ packaging the
s(.'ll will maki.' e\er\ thing better. .Attei
all, llenrvl-olds,,Kl,"ll,storv is
bunk."

This is not \(iiir lather's under-
graduate, W'b.ii does ibis ba\e to ^o
with the questions ol the atternoon or
Michael No\ak's (.omments.'

Plenu. Nio, 1 Ao not teach a course
111 what Is commonU dui^bed popul.ir
culture, 1 kI' ix'liexe in texts taught
well, and wli.it 1 mean b\ t, night well

does not consist of a sea of heads
lowered with pens transcribing
received wisdom, but tests, chal-
lenged by teacher and student, with
everyone teaching and learning.
That creates a context for discoilrse.
Taking it probably as far as I can go,
"This is not your father's Oldsmo-
hile " questions the wisdom of the
American work habit. None of the
featured children has done any work
that we, the audience, knows of,
other than appearing in the ad and
being lucky to have been the child of
the father. The message can be
loaded and pernicious, without the
mediation of questioning, without a
collective effort to ascertain mean-
ings, without a context. The supposi-
tions we need to know that are
fundamental to that ad campaign.
Without this questioning, we run the
risk of helping to create ignorant and
arrogant citizens. They do not really
know otherwise, and I think they
become a kind of oxvnn ironic title of
the innocent cvnic, when in the
language perhaps of Dr. Martv
yesterday, they read \'alue as a good
buy in the Sunday newspaper.

But wait, perhaps there is some
value in "TTis is not vour father's
Oldsmohile." 1 won't let it go. It
might well rest on something else L\.
Mart\ s.ud on Founders' Pav: "We
can refiiriii in light ot the intentions
ot the founders."

Times, indeed, h.ne changed.
Your t.ither's Oldsinobile used leaded
g.is, dr.mk th.it g.is .it .in obscene
rate, li.id no c.u.ilvnc converter,
iiitermittenr wipers, h.imess sen
belts, rear defroster, A.M. -FM.
multiplex stereo, or gr.iphic equalizer.
It would ser\e onlv as a classic on a
be.uititui New England fall after-
noon, le.iding a p.irade. m an
.Arizon.i chissic c.ir s.ile. or as a safe
piece ot lunk to p. irk in Boston or
New \ork. It sinipK isn't the same
now .is It w.is then. .And P.id c.m't
dri\e It bec.uise he h. isn't the
experience for it. He w.is oiiK .n the
point ot concen ing ot it: the child
must dti\ e It home. It is important to
kiiin\ the context ot the world of

34 fALl IV8',

your father's Oldsmohile, ho\ve\-er,
that there is indeed some wisdom to
be received about that old Olds that
has absolutely nothing to do with
the vehicle itself, but rather a society
and its assumption that some ad
person so cavalierly believed were
worthless to your intentions now.

The University of Chicago is
doing well during this symposium,
and we've heard a wonderful talk by
one of its greatest scholars: And the
topic of this panel exists in some part
in the shadow of the pronounce-
ments of Martin Marty. And I am
lately much taken with the latest
hook by Wayne C. Booth, one ot
ver\' tew literary' critics who keeps
me believing in the enterprise ot
literary scholarship. Booth, in The
Company We Keep, an ethics ot
fiction, writes about our contempo-
rary need to reaffirm ethical criti-
cism. He says in his introduction:

"We can no longer pretend that
ethical criticism is passe; it is practi-
cally everywhere, often surrepti-
tiously, often guiltily, often badly,
partly because we have si) little
serious talk about why it is imptir-
tant, what purposes it serves, and
how it might be done well."

Booth, incidentally, does not limit
his range of texts to the so-called
canonical texts ot Western litera-
ture. I will be bold and extend
Booth's range to a wider range ot
criticism and not just literary'; it is
practiced everywhere. What I have
discovered in over 1 5 years of
teaching is that increasingly my
students fail to have context for
discourse, for understanding the
material I present to them.

When I ask what the cultural
suppositions and beliefs ot the
author are, what we can understand
from his/her writing, I'm often met
with silent stares. They seem not to
have enough material to make
connections.

It is probably i)bvious then that 1
don't think those connections only
come from reading the classics but
that the classics and the hidden
classics of women, blacks, and

members of other minority groups
are being enhanced when we make
the connections between them. It is
impossible to read the literature ot
black Americans in a vacuum; it
responds, criticizes, comments on,
emulates the so-called tradition ot
white male letters. Similarly,
Melville's Benito Cereno or Moby
Dick, Twain's Huck Finn or Piiddin-
head Wilson, Hemingway's novels,
and William Carlos Williams' poetry-
are made much clearer by leading to
the narrative life ot Frederick

i have discovered

in 15 years of

teaching that

students increasingly

fail to have a context

for discourse, for

understanding
material I present.

Douglass, Rich.ird Wright's Native
Son, the literary- experimentation ot
the writers of the Harlem Renais-
sance, and the efforts ot thousands of
black poets to wash the language
clean of so much connotative
baggage that even the attempt to
express blackness in positive lan-
guage becomes a dearly impossible
teat. The discourse comes from
making connections, asking i.|ues-
tions, questioning the authority ot
texts, not trom unquestioned .iccep-
tance ot the wisdom o( the older text.
This is, indeed, not your father's
Oldsmohile, nor should it be.

Booth in writing about the search
for universal standards says, "The
search stacks narratives into a single

pyramid, with all of the candidates
competing for a spot at the apex.
Such an assumption, when applied
rigoroLisly, will always damn a large
share of the world's most valuable
art, and I'll add to that thought. 1
propose that we think instead ( it an
indeterminate number ot pyramids,"
he continues, "or since pyramids
suggest a rather formal stasis, of a
botanical garden full of many
beautitul species, each species
implicitly bearing standards ot
excellence within its own kind. We
cannot know how many good kinds
there are, but presumably there is a
limit somewhere. We can tell when a
tulip tails to bloom or an iris is
stunted and withered."

There are connections to be
made, and perhaps the character that
needs to be built is a character where
we resist the tendency t( > accept the
many contlicting signals ot our
culture, where we turn on the
electronic gizmo that sends us a set
ot highly-charged propagandistic
values that are in direct competition
with some texts that subvert the
intentions, perhaps, ot our tounders.
Where character and metals and
\ittue and \alues that ate so
important tor our sur\i\',il might
indeed he undone, where we can
continue perhaps to recognize that
the plutalism ot which the tounders
spoke might ha\e to be a difterent
kind ot pluralism \or a new age.

Gayle Pemberton is director oj mmnnty
affairs and a lecturer in English at
Boivdoin College in Brunswick, Me.
She received her master's arid doctorate
from Harvard University arid did her
undergraduate work at the Uniiersity of
Michigan.

She has received aW. E. B. Du Bois
Foundation Fellowship from Harvard
Vr-iiversity arid a Ford Foundation
D<icuiral Felldivihip.

PriDr to ficr tenure at Boucioin, .she
taught at Reed College, m PortLvid,
Ore., Illinois' Northwestern University,
Vermont's Middlebury College arid
Columbia Unii'ersity.

AGNES scon MAGAZINE 35

ore

values

B Y

NANCY

W O O D H U L L

FOR YOUR
DOLLAR

I tcel It IS inip(irt;Hit rn >hnrc mir
experiences m the wtiiiJ, to network,
it you will. There ;ire still lots of trails
to hiaze. Women runninL; things is
still new m our society at least
accordifiL; r>> the rules the existing
estahlishmeni has set.

Rut every clay more ot us ,ire Lloinu
it. And, who knows, we ma\ in\eni
a hetter way to Jo it.

I u.iiit a wmiJ where wc' are not
so tlri\ en in ihi.' ik 'liar, where' what .1
person says is what he or she means
anil Joes, where the l;ooJ ot sneieU
IS as import, ml as the l;ooJ oI the
siockholJer, where women ,inJ
minoiiiies ,inJ |X'ople Irom .1 Jitter-
ent siJe ot the tracks are \wlcomeJ,
not osir.ici:eJ.

Are we there now.' No.

C^an we he.' .'\hsolulel\.

AnJ women IcaJers h.i\e .m op-

I 36 1 All I'^yv

portunity to play a big role in chang-
ing things. \X^y? Because some of us
don't know the existing rules.

And tor tlmse ot us who ha\e haJ
to learn the olJ rules to sLirx ive, let's
hope we ilon't ^et so use J to them
that we don't know how to modify
them. So don't read too many hooks
on how to play by the rules. Read
about those people who are tinJiiiu
new rules, new w,i\s to le.iJ, to run
hiisinesses that ser\e our societv.

We should be proud that we're
smart, well educated, and have a
strong sense of integrity. We don't
ha\'e a historx ot KmL;, ste.ilini; an J
killini; crime stats attest to that. It
we can tinJ the contklence ,inJ the
opportunities to leaJ or he he.irJ
by leaders we ha\-e <i lot to otter.

I sound like women .ire the solu-
tion to the worlJ's ]^rohlems. Who
knows.' We may he.

.About business .mJ ethics w ithout
reL;arJ to sex.

People can m.ike this subject ot
business ,inj ethics s,iunJ compli-
ciieJ like the ethics ot business are
ditterent trom an\ ihinL: ebe. But
the\ .iren't .in\ ditterent troni st.iiul-
,iijs tb.it .ire accept, ihle in other
parts ot our lixes. Most ot us woulJn'i
sie.il Irom members ot oui t.imiK.

\\\[ ,iJulis think nothin'_: ot t.ikme
noiep.iJs trom the ottice .mJ not
,iskinL; tor ihem nor otterinu to p.iv.

You miubt sav, "Imu Je.il. Th.it's

pretty small stuff."

Then let's get more complicated.

It brother Johnny told us a secret,
we wouldn't blab it all over town.
People wouldn't trust us as much; we
wiuild bum our bridges. Not a good
positioii to be in wheii vou want tc~>
convince otbets vou want to use the
tamily car or borrow scime mcinev.

But in business these days, it's not
considered odd to take advantage c->t
other folks' secrets. To bank on
"inside infiirmation" secrets.

Is the Jifterence between how vou
act m the business environmeiit and
tamiK environment the fact that in
the t.imilv vou get caught faster' You
don't h,i\e to face vour business co-
horts at the diiiner table ever\- night?

I think th.it's oiie of the reasons.

Before planes, trains and automo-
biles, most of us stayed put in our
sm.ill town. Even,- day we had to face
our successes and failures. It was
rough to pull the wool over people's
eves and still get a job or remain a
member in gixxl standing of a
communir\-.

(. uHvl st.mding. Boy, that was a
jewel to h.n e. You don't hear it
much .mxiiiore. Mavbe because
people .iren't .is .is.sociated with
communities anvmore.

Thanks to those wondertul inven-
tions tr.iins. planes and .uitomo-
biles. The\ .illow us to move on, to
le,i\ e our mist.ikes behind. Thev

c\'en .illou' us til he crc.itixe iihdur
\vh;ir u'c lIiJ hack honic. Rcsliiucs,
tor inst.uKL'. Yiui (.,111 Jii more
nnkerinL;. Who's to know th.it
w'cckenLl ni;in;iL;cnK'nt seiiiin;ir
w, isn't An MBA prour.im.'

AnJ peopk' ,l;oI ,\\\;\\ with tins.

Wliy JkI people let this h.ii^pen'
Wh\- lIkI lousiness let it h.ippen.'

We h;iJ the wherewith, il to ino\e
,iw;i\ troin our p;ist ,ind not he
tollowvJ.

Iiut .ilso ,1 l;ooJ p.irt 1 it SI iLieiN'
rates inoney .is the most important
thiny. We ha\e a societ\ hrouuht up
on rile Vince Lomhaivli statement:
"Winninu isn't e\'erythin,L;. It's the
onK I hint;. "That o\ersimphties
tooihall and hte. And sinee Lom-
hardi IS no longer here to iletend
himselt, ii's untair tor mi.' to impK he
was the root ot today's e\il. 1 le was
talkmi; ahout ^lesire, not results.

My husiness, the journalism
husmess, has not hecn without its
ethical prohlems.

In 1'->S|, a W'dsliinotMti /'dsi
reporter a^lmitted she made up the
newspaper story that won her a
Pulitzer Prire.

In l^SS, a Wad NtrcVtjoKnidl re-
porter was eonxicted of tr.uid. 1 le
sold ,kl\,ince W(ii\l on the contents
ot his i.(ilumn to Wall Street insklers.

Itarliei this \ear, an assistant TV
news director in Florida was accusci-l
ot tapping; into a rixal station's news-
room computer. I le .illeuetlK was
ahle to uel into the s\stem hecause
he usclI to work tor the station.

Such cAeiits arc' ot L;reat concern
to us hecause millions ot peo]de
e\ei"\ ila\ reai.1 newspapers, watch
the news on T\' or listen lo ii on the
radio. Il a news ^ mipanv loses its
cn.'dihilil\, II loses Us husiness. In the
sixties there was a i^reai ethical
cleanii|\ (.'odes of ethics were drawn
up in newsrooms, treehies ihal used
to Ix' laken such as tree plane trips
to faraway |ilaces were no loniier
accepted, etc.

In our husiness, puhlic perception
is as impori.ini as the iiuih, Il can't
e\ en look like someihiiiL; is wront^.

We ha\e a new ethical contro-

versy Hoiny on in our business. That
has to do with a ,L;roLip ot folks who
have heen referred to as the "C'eleh
Press" those <ire the folks who
populate the talk shows, who haul in
huye speakinu tees tor con\ention
dinners, who lexera.Lje their role as a
memher of the press to line their
wallets.

Coleman McC ,'arthv, a Washin.t^-
ton Post columnist, re.ilK took this
L;r( nip to task m his column. He
focused on the controversy m I).C'.
that IS pushini; tor coni^resspeople to
reform honoraria the payment ot
tees for speaking enLiayements. Rep.
William I I. (..ray III of PennsvKania
sa\s he will sLipport reform of such
honoraria for folks m C .'on',^ress when
the press reforms honoraria.

(, Jileman McCarthy, the Post
columnist, says "ri,L:ht on" to Cray's
statement. He s,i\s that manv
special-interest uroups rhat pa\'
$2,000 tor a politician's speech pony
up twii, fi\e or sometimes ten times
that much tor the chatter ot a media
hotdo^. McCanhs adds that trade
associations laxish honoraria on
well-known editors, anchors, report-
ers, and cokimnists tor the same
reasons politicians are paid: to
reward past faxnis or to increase the
chances for future ones. Bumiil;
access to ;in editor or columnist isn't
strateyic;illv ditteienr, Mc(.'arthv
sa\s, to huNinL; it from a politician.
Either wa\, it's a carefulK considered
in\estmenl.

Whvshouldn'i, McCarthv asks,
the puhlic he told that a columnist,
who rcLiularK supports the positions
of one trade association, also tell the
public in the same column he miyht
Ix- wi'iimL; ,iboui ihe association, that
hi' or she spi ike a I the group's ,innu,il
conxenluin and what the tee was.'

McC ai tin s,i\s, in \\ ashins^ion,
".\ double siandard is now in place
,is il pui there b\ poured Yemeni."

Now 1 don'i want lo uiw \ou the
idea lb, 11 ibis is runninL; i";imp,int
amoni; members ot the press, li is
noi. Man\ news oil;, mi:, il ions
impose intern, il sanctions ,iL;,iinst
editors ,ind reporters .icceptiiiL; fees

tn im izr( lups i )r ( (thers have sanc-
tions against accepting,' fees from
those they ccn'er.

So ethics continues to be a watch
wi )rd for the press. And also the most
popular issue surrounding politicians.
Another ratjing controversy is
whether folks take government jobs
to ser\e the people or to make more
from writing Kx)ks after they quit
the loh ot sei-\ang the people.

That wasn't always the way. Bi^ce
H.irlow was a Republican advisor to
presidents ... a confidante to
Eisenhower. He set up the Ni.xiin
and Ford VCTiite Ht)U5es. He was
called back to help out during the
Watergate days. He died last year. He
ne\er wrote a book. He chose not to.
He steadfastly believed that his
thoughts were the property ot the
people he served.

He was trusted to advise. People
knew he advised tor the eood ot the
government withcuit ,iiiy considera-
tions tor personal gaiii. .And he often
differed w itb the leaders he advised.
But the\ listened. Piissibly because
rhev knew he h.id rio ax to grind.

But Brvce Harlows are rare
because the high rent district looks
good ,111^1 the chances ot evictioii are
slim ,is long ,is the money keeps
coming in.

B\ the w.iv, I've never gotten a tee
tor speaking. It a gnuip chooses, thev
cm donate [the funds] to charm", but
I never t.ike money tor mvself.

Now, \ou m.iv ask, when does
unethicil beh.n lor ctrcb up with us.'

Maybe it's beginning to catch up
w Itb us now.

There's ,i lot ot talk about ethics
these d.iys. It's a hot topic in Wash-
ington. There are signs that some
folks .tre starting to feel the heat.

When do you feel the heat.'

^oii feel the be,tt when the bot-
tom line st.irts to suffer. The bottom
line st.uts to suffer when several of
\iHir emploxees get convicted in
court, ,md people don't waiit to do
business w Itb \ou ,tn\niore.

^ou feel the he,tt wheii people go
elsew here for ser\ ices when thev
don't find your ser\ ices reliable.

38 FAIt 1989

Enter the computer network and
enter Marshall McLuhan's ijlohal
village. Because the whole world is
linked by computers and satellites
and tiher optics now, it is a lot easier
to take your business elsewhere.

.'\nd It's a lot less easy to mo\e
from town to town withoi.it lea\iny a
path. For instance, the politician
who says one thing in one state
about taxes and another thing about
taxes in another state, is more easily
found out as journalists become more
adept at researching the issues \ia
computer libraries.

And computer tracking ha> made it
easier to find the inside traders, too.

But we need more than just com-
puters to Kirce us to be accountable.
We need a new sense ot direction
and an idea ot where we're going.

In his recent book, Lee lacocca
worries that we won't leave the
world a better place tor the next
generatitin. He talks about the
Statue ot Liberty, and why he was so
involved in raising money to repair
her weathered body. He talks about
liberty. And he talks about the many
letters he received. One of the letters
was from a Japanese medical profes-
sor who told lacocca that when he
studied in America two decades agii,
he learned many things. Among
them: Do not break a promise,
respect a contract, encourage public
morality. . . .

Since returning to Japan, he and
his family ha\'e lived by those values.
But when he visited this country
recently, he saw an old American
friend. His friend no longer lived by
those principles. He told lacocca
that he felt that America had really
changed since he was here.

lacocca says there's truth in what
the man writes. lacocca talks about
how he looks around and sees Wall
Street executives being dragged away
in handcuffs. A national deficit so
high he can't count the zeros. A
government paying farmers not to
plant their land while the homeless
go hungry on the streets.

lacocca thinks we've got to start
with the basics; how we raise our

WHEN DOES Ml

f~" do has an impact on everyone and
{ everything around us.

^H^HHe:

And we need to improve (uir

LkLs, hou we c<ire tor our sick ,ind
homeless, what each ot us truK
belie\es. He sa\s the onl\ institution
he knows that works is the t,iniil\-; he
thinks a ci\-ili:ed world can't remain
ci\ili:ed it Us tountlation is bLnlt on
anything but the tamily. A city, state,
or country can't be any more than
the sum ot Its vital parts millions ot
tamily units. He sa\s you can't ha\e a
countrv or a cit\ or a state it yoti
don't start with the tamiK'.

I agree, Mr. lacocca.

And that brings me back to
something 1 said earlier. Something 1
said I'd get back to.

Women . . .

When It comes to honesty,
integrity, doing the right thing, the
most consistent environment m
America has been the home. .And .is
more women take their talents trom
the tamily place to the work place, 1
hope they will bring along those
values and not be ashamed or shy
about advancing them.

So just maybe instead ot talking
about ethics in business here today,
I'm talking about a future ot ethics
and integrity in everything we do.
Not because we're women, but
because we can bring basic values
and a fresh approach to everything
we do every day we do it. It's not
that men can't do the same, but now
they may be looking to us as role
models for a better way to go. That's
a lot of responsibility, and if we're
going to live up to it, we need to be
constantly aware that everything we

ethical memor\.

Try this exercise . , ,

It you can, play back in N'oiir
mind the scene of that fateful
moment during the final flight of the
space shuttle Challenger. Then play
b.ick the months ot .inguisheJ
testimon\ on all the opportunities to
correct the hundrcLls ot tbiws on that
ill-fated spaceship . . . the final
chances to say, "No, don't tly it."

Then try and say: "It's okay to cut
Liuners. It ^loesn't matter. It's not me.
It's not my tamily."

Just trv it.

You'll get mv point.

We each nee^l to make sure we
approach ewtNtbing we ilo with
ethics anti inte.L;rit\. Then we nee^l
to ask the same ot our assoei.ites ,ind
our lea^lers. We need to ask our
business, go\-ernment an^l politic. il
leaders to be servants ot society.

We need businesses .md go\ern-
ments statted with mistworrhv te.ims
ot people who would no more treat a
co-worker or customer .in\ ditter-
entlv th.m the\ would .i member ot
their tamily.

We need to hoLI our tamilies m
the highest regard.

We need to stop beliexing that
lite owes us anything more th.m ,i
ch.mce to lIo our best.

It you expect more th.m th.ir
ch.mce, you're likely to tin^l Nourselt
with iinly the re.ili:ation th.it the
chance has passed you by.

Some way or another, we've got to
m.ike integrity stylish again.

President of Gannett News Semces,
Nancy ] . Woodhidl began her career in
I^M as a reporter at the Woodbridge
(N.J.) Tribune. She later was a re-
porter at the Detroit Free Press atui
TTuarwgi'ng editor of the Rochester
Times-Union and Rochester Demo-
crat before moving to USA Today in
] 982 . She currently directs both Gan-
nett News Service and Gannett New
Media, a research and development
unit.

AGNES SCOTT MAGAZINE 39

TRANSMITTING

values

TO WOMEN

think cibout how tar
American women ha\'c come since
the time when my friends and \, in
Plains, spent our tree time dreamini^
ot catching the ri.ght man and
making marriage our career so we
would never he old maids. Enormous
changes have taken place.

Thanks to the ettorts ot hrave
women such as those whose stories
we have lust seen portrayed [in Out
ot l^ur Father's House] and many
others up to the present day, the
opi^ortLinities open to [women] are so
commonplace and taken tor gratated
that our slaughters don't e\'eii know
that they should thank us tor them.
What they can imagine themselves
doing and heing is truly limitless.
Every young girl in our country, no
matter how small her home town is,
can dream of becoming anything
that a young man can become.
Releasing the limits on girls' imagi-
nations may be the greatest achieye-
lueni ot all tlie ch.mges we could^ " '"
ha\e maele.

There are oiher changes, too,
both small and large. When mv
granddaughter, Sarah, who lues in
Chicago, ann(iunced ,ii the ,ige ot six
ihal she was <_;lad she was not a hoy
h>.'i.aiise she didn'l like to wash
dishes, It made me realire not only
the lact that her lather, m\ son, was
doing the dishes, but th.it her
,issi.ituptions about who does what

I40FALI 1989

Y ROSALYNN CARTER

oTues vs^ere clearly spelled out for young

Rosalynn Carter. Teachers had answers

and children learned them. Transmitting
values to the young people of this genera-

tion is more difficult. But it can be done.

tfgfmmimimm

wimmm'tK00f9tf^f^

mmmmmmmmmmm

r

>-- ,

f i

l|r

f0

'f$

kiml lit work ;iiul nhoiir lite in
l,vikt;i1 ;irc \'cry Jittcrcnr Irnm those
th;it I urcw up with.

] i^rew up in Phiins, (Ja., Popula-
tion 680 then and now. Everyone
in town knew everyone else, which
was \ery nice when there was
trouhle or somehoJy was sick or
when someone dieLJ. There was no
such thin.u as prixacy thout^h;
everyhody knew exeryhotly else's
hiisiness. (I've .ilways said that made
politics easy tor me. 1 u'rew up with
scrutiny.)

But Plains was a <;;ood place and a
L;ood spirit to .urow up in. We L;rie\'ed
with one another oxer the sad things
and rejoiced tt>yether oxer the happx
thiiigs. Collectively, vxe were secure
and isolated from the outside world.

With no mox ie thealer, no jil^rarx,
no recreation center, and no telexi-
sion, the social lite ot the commu-
nity rexolxed around the churches.
My ,t;r,indmoiher was a Lutheran, my
grandfather was a Baptist, my moth-
er and father were Methodists, and 1
went to all three churches almost
exer\ time the doors opened. 1 went
to Sunday school and regular church
services; 1 went to prayer meetinL;, to
Methodist Lea.yue, Baptist Cnrls'
Atixiliary, Rihle school, tamily
niuhts, (.linnet on the Lirouniis. Ani.1
one of the hii; exents ot the xear \xas
the revix'al meeting; in the stimmer.
For a whole week there wotild he
l^reachinu mornifiL; ani.1 niL;hr, arn.1
x\'e nexer missed a serx ice. We sani;
.ind prayed and the preachers alwa\s
came to out house sometime tlutinL;
the week tor a meal.

chool was the other focal
point in our communilx'. We
were x'erx' proud ot our school.
We had .ihoul 200 students in
elex (.11 L:iad(.s. Out parents
p.ii I u ipal(.'d 111 all s(. h( K )l
ai lixilies. We were taiiuht to

slIlW .ind COIll]X'I(.'. Auk] SIK -

cesstiil LiiaduaU's ( it Plains
Hii;h School were inx ited to moitv
infj; chapel serxaces to Ix- admired
and, luipefully, emulated h\ the
students. We studied tiie lixes ot

1,'reat men and women and pondered
the reasons for their achievements in
life always including their hif^h
ideals, closeness to God, and hard
work.

Times were hard in the 1930s, iiot
only for my family hut for everyhody.
My mother and father waited until
my father had a thousand dollars in
the hank hetore they were married.
A few months after they married, the
hank failed and his "nest egg" was
none.

Rut as children we were unaware
of any hardship. We grew our own
food. We ha(.l go(Kl clothes my
mother ma^le them.

We all had chores to do .iround
the house. Our father was xery strict
ahoul our responsihilities and we did
our hest lo please htm. One day when
It was mx hrother Murray's turn to
take the cow to graze hy my father's
garage, a car passed an(.l frightened
the cow. It ran all the whole lon,u
hlock home, dra^gin^ Murr.iy the last
part of the wax; hadly hruising and
scratching him. When mother asked
why he didri't just turn the roix' loose,
he said, "1 couldn't. Daddv told me
not to!"

We were hrouuht up to heliexe
that you dkl what xdur mother an^l
father told you to do or xou took the
consequences. Sometimes, hut not
often, we took the conse(.iuences.

Values were spelled out xerx
clearK in those daxs. P.irents and
teachers ha^l the answers; we children
learned them.

I'turs was a tratlitional houschoLI.
Mx' father went ott to work exerx' d.w.
Mx mothei staxwl ,it home ,ind took
care ot the children. 1 rememher the
warm kitchen with a U(>(>(,l stoxe anil
mx t.ither cominu h(>me Irom wdik.
1 k' ,iU\a\s rush(.'d into the kit(.lK'n
and pick(.'d up mx mother, swung her
around ,ind i_:ax (. lu'i" a kiss.

Stahk' homes wx'te taken tor
gi".int(.'d when xw xwre children. We
nexer heard ot a dixdrce in our
communilx uni il lonu ,ittei we were
adults. !^ixi>rce was (.onsidered t(> he a
terrihle sin ihat was tcmmitted onix
111 1 IoIUw.hkI .m.\ New York tar ott

places. And the suhject of sex was
nex'er discussed, neither at home nor
in school. My mother once told me
that she and my father did not even
hold hands until after they were
engaged. TTierc was, it has to be said,
a strong streak of primness in our
values.

My life was happy and carefree in
those early years, and then tragedy
struck. When I was thirteen years
old, my father died; within a year my
mother's mother died.

ne of the greatest impacts on
mx' life was xvatching Mother
<i traditional housewife,
cherished as an onlv child,
sheltered and cared for and
ver^' dependent upon my
father, a widow at age 34 with
four small children develop
int( 1 a xen strong person,
meeting needs and canni: tor her
tamily. She did what she had to do.
She xxent to x\(irk.

.And I had to groxx' up iwemieht,
heinu the oldest child, and assume a
urcat deal of responsihilitv, especially
looking after the other little children.
Within a Lieneratioii, as Jimmy and
I began to raise our (wxn familx',
relatuinships between adults and
chiklren had been forever changed by
the p.ice ot exents, by technology, by
ex ervone's (greater mobilitv.

\et some things remained the
same in our little towii. When our
boxs were sm.ill, the churches and
school xxere still an important part o\
the lite (if the Ciniimunitx'. Tltis was
important as we tried to gixe them
the stahilitv that a small C(immunitv
pr(W ides, the sense o\ belonging.

The b(>xs were an iiitegral parr of
our tamilx entetprises, tov\ wiirkinc
.iK'tigskle lis in the pe.inut business
. liter sch(iii| .md in the summer. .And
lusi ,is we W(>rked together at the
w.irehiHise, we did .it home, exerxone
pitching in with chines.

But t(i get t(i the tr-insmission ot
X .ilues to the d.uighter in the t.imilx,
w hich w ,is mx .issignment tiM' tcxpn :
Atiix w.is .iliuost .m^ither generation.
We had been m.irried 1\ vears, our

42 iA[\ I'ASS

oldot son was 20, the youngest 1 5
when she was borti. We doted on
her. People used to say she had tour
fathers, Jimmy and the three boys.
She was never as disciplined as the
boys; Jimmy always said the stem
discipline hadn't worked anyway!
And by the time she came along, the
life of our family had changed
dramatically.

Amy grew up m the Cunernor's
Mansion and in the Wliite House.
She had just had her third birthday
when we moved to the Governor's
Mansion.

We had waited a long time tor a
little girl, and we took her with us
e\'erywhere. The problem was the
places we went political rallies or
other speechmaking events. Very
soon. Amy let us know that she
didn't want to go anywhere she had
to sit still and be quiet. So we started
letting her take a hook along, or a
coloring book and crayons, and we
even let her wander around the back
of the room when she wanted. She
went with me to visit mental health
centers, convalescent homes, Gold-
en Age Clubs, inner-city schools.
And I never knew whether or not
she listened to anything I was saying
until one day when 1 was talking to
some children in an orphanage. One
ot the little boys had a broken arm. I
was telling him that Jimmy's mother,
"Mi.ss" Lillian, had just been in
Hawaii and had broken her left arm.
Amy, who had been wandering
around the back ot the room, came
walking up onto the platform I was
standing on and tugged at my skirt.
When I looked down to see what she
wanted, she said, "You said that
wrong, it was grandmomma's right
arm." She was right.

Amy grew up with the issues ot
the day being debated at the table
and she learned to join in as she
grew older a very different lite from
mine. There were other differences,
too. I remember one day in the
Governor's Mansion when she was
just three, she came into my office
and asked for a pencil for her pocket-
book. It was a Saturday morning and

In our own family, relationships between

adults and children had been changed

forever by the pace of current events, by

technology, by everyone's greater mobility.

AGNES SCOTT MAGAZINE 43

her father was ^oiny to take her to
the :()(). [ asked, "Amy, what Jo yoLi
want with .1 pencn'" She said, "To
sign autographs." She was, and still
is, nonchalant ahout things that were
incimceivahle to me. The first time 1
was asked for an autograph, 1 v\as
oxerwhelmed.

Rut I think Amy eame through
this period of her life with a good
perspeetne. Not too long ago I heard
someone ask her what it felt like to
live in the White 1 louse. She said,
"Natural."

Well, the Governor's Mansion is
on ,in IS-aere lot with a fence
around it. We li\ed on the second
floor, with tourists downstairs .ilmost
e\'ery tlay. The White House is on an
I8V2 aere lot or thereahouts with
a fence arountl it; we lived on the
second and third floors and there
were tourists on the ground floor. She
was not heing coy.

Amy's assLimptions ahout women's
roles ,ire ckiser to those of my
granddaughter, Sarah, than they are
to mine. .All of her life 1 have l^een
out of the home often. During this
period of time 1 didn't cook or w.ish
^lishes until we came home from the
White House when she was 1 >.

And though she grew tip dehating
issues, v\'e h.ne i^een suq^rised at her
acti\isin. She never seemei.1 very
interestei.1 m issues or exents of the
(.lay; she huried her heail m a hook ,it
tile lai^le (a Charter family trait) or
ran off to i^lay with friends instead of
meeting a \isiting he. id of state.
These things were a "natural" part of
her e\ er\d,iy life. But she must haw
|Mcki.'d up something from the
|ieripiiery. She has \ery strong
opinions on issui.'s and h,is heen
,irresie>.l only tour limesi We don't
always agree with her, hut we are
\ery prouil of her.

I haw a story ahoul .Amy's actix -
Ism that 1 don't know whether 1
should tell or not hecuise it is realK ,1
mother's story. But not long ago we
were in Africa. We haw ,1 lot of
proiL-cls theiv, agricultural and
heallh programs of the Charter
G'enier, and we \isii legularK. (.^ne

night we were sitting around the
tahle at a hanquet with leaders of
several of the countries. Jimmy had
to come hack home and make a
speech to college presidents ahout
how tiniversities could help third
world countries. And so he asked the
men at the tahle what a university
coukl do to help them. One said,
"They could study the issues ot our
country and become familiar with
our needs." Another suggested a
cultural exchange program. One said
that a university could develop an

when we were in the Go\-emor's
Mansion and the White House, with
everybody in the spcitlight, we
treasured the times we could be at
h( ime and be a normal family-

We have always tried to presen'e,
as much as possible, the importance
ot the family because we feel \"er\'
strcmgly that it is in the home that
we begin to learn some of the basic
\alues that guide our lives and our
lifestyles. Our boys are older now and
scattered, but we still get together
during the year At Christmas we

We have tried to preserve the family

because v^e feel very strongly that it is

vs^ithin the family, within the home, that

vs^e begin to learn the basic values that

>vill guide our lives and our lifestyles.

agricultural program tor them. The
1,1st m.in at the t.ible s,iid, "One
action Is worth a thousani.1 stu^lies.
Amy Carter has done more for tin
countr\' than an\ stud\ ewr has
doiU'." it was so mo\ tng, I cried. .And
1 decided th.it nigiit th.it I wouldn't
worr\ .il^out .Am\ .inxiiune. 1 ler he.irt
IS in tile ngiir place.

Our t.imilx lias aiw,i\s ix'cn close. 1
tiiiiik It is ix'cuise we worked to
uetliei ,is ,1 team 111 ilii.' pe.inut
business, and tiien when limiin r.m
tor gowrtior ,ind tor president, we ,iii
worked together. We expetienced
some wcindertui \ ictories; we experi-
enced some losses loi^ether. .And

al\va\s take a trip together 1 5 ot us,
\b w ith mv mother.

.Ani\ Is 1 1 years oU not a child
.in\ more but still .1 \oung person
,ind \ er\' independent. Arid young
people nowadays, besides being
independent, lead impersonal lixes
comp.ired to the life that I lived.
The\ h.ne si^ man\- different options
ottered to them th.it they don't teel
the s.itiie .utachment to people who
.iftect their lives as we did. Thev can
ib.indon their wilues without much
atteiition. This would not h,iw been
possible when I w ,is growing up. .And
111 ,ill the cicophonv surrounding
tliem, from telexision and moxies to

44 I All 1989

peer pressure ccmceming dru,t^s and
so on, they often decide not to let
their parents or teachers adults
preach to them.

We cannot command yiiunp
people to do things today. We have
to convince them that something is
beneficial and let them make the
decision.

InstitutK)ns play a major role in
helping to shape values. Agnes Scott
has traditionally found ways not only
to provide the best possible educa-
tion for women, but also to empha-

size things like honor, spiritual
growth, and personal values. Trans-
mitting values is at the heart of the
purpose of this college, and it is
timely that we have this symposium
and examine our values, be firm in
them, and know what we stand for
personally and as an institution.
Betsy Fox-Genovese, a noted
historian, has said about transmitting
values to young women: "They need
something to rebel against and to
stretch against. The greatest gift we
can give is that we really believe in
our values so that when they return
from their rebellion, from their
stretching, they have something

solid to come b<ick to." She also said,
"Mrs. Carter has that with Amy.
Amy IS pushing values."

Tliere are other things we can do.
We can share stories about women's
accomplishments from generation to
generation. We can share what
women have learned, and even
though the world is changing, we
can let young women know what
women's values are, in the tradition
of our mothers and grandmothers.

Tliere is real joy of discovery for
young women in seeing seeds of
themselves in women who were
different, different from the lives
they expect to lead. Mar^' Hoyt, who
was my press secretary at the White
House, did an interview with Amy
on her 16th birthday and then again
on her 20th birthday for Good
Housekeeping magazine. She asked
Amy both times if she thought she
was like her grandmother. Jimmy's
mother was always outspoken, she
was always for the underdog. At age
16, Amy's answer was no, she didn't
think she was like her grandmother;
at age 20, she said yes.

We transmit our values by Ining
them. Someone has said, "If yoti
want to know your values, look at
your lifestyle. We express our opin-
ions and live our values."

1 ha\e a friend a man, a femi-
nist who has written a lot about
women. He writes that women must
be true to their values: family life,
protection of young and old, equality
for everyone, willingness to sacrifice
for the good of others nurturing,
caring values. He also says that we
should not be so interested in being
equal with men that we give up what
is important to us. Make the world
accept our values, not accept those
that are dominant in today's world, is
his basic theme. It might be a good
one for all of us.

But what about the future.' What
will my children be transmitting to
their children? What values will be
passed on to Sarah ?

Will my children retain the
traditional values that have been
important to my generation?

TTiough roles change, the basic
\akies of honesty, integrity, compas-
sion, and lo\e, as well as ideas of
hope, charity, humility, and service
to others, dttn't change. But this
generation is faced with the chal-
lenge of figuring out liow to cling to
these basic values in a modem, fast-
changing world.

Iet's look aheatl now to the
second centenni.il of Agnes
Scint. We cannot predict what
the issues of that day will be,
but from today what do we
hope will be present? The
honor s\stem, respect for
dnersity, search for meaning
that IS more than material
success, service to others, excellence,
becoming all you can become,
opening doors for women, respecting
choices different from our own, and
valuing the past while not being
bound to It?

Much will change by the year
2089. Maybe the speaker will be a
former woman president or a former
"first husband." Btit regardless of the
changes, 1 think we can feel secure
in the knowledge that those cele-
brating the second centennial will
k)ok back at today and see continu-
ity in their \'alues.

Fiirmer First luuls Rasahnn Carter
sfviu much time on Agnes Scott's
camp}is 111 the past year as Distinguished
Centennial Lecturer. She is author of
First Lady From Plains and Every-
thing to Gain: Making the Most of
the Rest of Your Life (with jimmy
Carter) . Along ivith her duties at the
Carter Presidential Center, Mrs. Carter
serves on the boards of The Friendship
Force , The Gannett Company and the
Crested Butte Physically Challenged Ski
Program. She is on the hoard of advisors
jor Habitat for Humanity and a trustee
uf the Me)inmgL'7" Foundation.

Mrs . Carter has received the Vincent
De Francis Award for Outstanding
Service to Humanity aivd was ^ven the
Volunteer of the Decade Award by the
Natiorial Mental Health Association in
1980.

AGNES SCOTT MAGAZINE 45

FINALE

Nevs^ frosh class
exceeds goal;
largest in 1 8 years

Thibtall A^ncs Scott \vc-l-
cnmed its larj^cst tirst-year
class In ciuhlccn years. One
hundiwl anel sc\'cnty-tivc- stu-
dents ha\'c ciitcrcLl the
College'sclassot lMg4.This
represents a 2 ^ percent in-
crease liver last year's class.

Says Teresa l.ahti, direclor
o{ adniissmns, "The pool nf
429 applicanis is ihe largest
we've seen in nineteen years.

"Eit;ht\ -lui) percent ot
these ap|dicants were ottered
admission, a solid tortv-nme
percent enrolled," she ailds.

The class came in w ith an
averat^e SAT score otl OS 1,
compared with last year's
average ot 1077. A record
niiniher ot hlack students,
sixty-three, applied to the
College this year a l*-' per-
cent increase o\er last year.
Bl.ick students comprise '-'
peicetit ol the >. Liss, wIikIi
has a lot.il minority enroll-
ment ol 14 percent.

Ms. Lahti s,i\s th.it there
has heen a noiKeahle shilt in
the geoLiraphic distnhution ol
stutlents. "Only 42 percent ol
the class is tiom Cieorgia," she
notes, "comp.ired with the
usual 4'-' to t2 percent." The
students i.oim- Irom t\\ent\ -
three st.ites and si\ loretgn
countries. 1 here ,ire eiL;hl
internal lon.il students in ihis
class, lasl \e,ir's h.id onlv I wo

This \e.ir 1 exas emerged
as ,1 "leedei" st.ite, one ih.U
contnhutes lots ol .ipplkaiils.
The eight si udents coming to
Agnes St oil Irom Tex, is are
second onl\ lo 1 ennessee's
twehe enrollees .ind ,ihead ol
Ahih.im.i's seven. "Pan ol

that connection is Betsy
Boyt," says Ms. Lahti, "the
groundwork was laid tive or
so years agii." Trustee Betsy
Biiyt '62 w,is named an out-
st.mdmg .ilumna this year for
her work on hehalt ot the
College o\er the years.
Alumnae, current students,
parents and faculty .ire cri-
tic, illy important, helieves
Ms. L.ihtt. "People who know
and helieye in Agnes Scott
are our most credihle and
effective spokespersons.

Ms. L.ihti says ih.it she
,ind her staff will concentr.ite
on expani-ling .A^nes Scott's
applicint po. '1 liirlher into
the Southwest, with contm-
ueil emph.isis , in Texas .md
other southern slates.

M.iny factors contrihuted
to this ye.ir's success. The
(.;ollege hosted three appli-
cant weekends this past ye.ir:
scholarship, leadership and
Creat Scott! weekends. Over
50 percent of these attendees
enrolled .it .Agnes Scott. The
admissions st.ift reduced the
niimher of its high school
\ isits ,ind went to lour times
.IS m,in\' college l.iirs. They
,ilso held quite ,i lew "dessert

and discussion" gatherings tor
students and parents.

Ms. Lahti also thinks the
puhlicity from the Centennial
( Jelehration put the College's
n.ime out into the commu-
nity. .Also, visiting .ipphcants
no longer see the huildings
and grotinds m ,) st.ite ot
renov.ition, she s.iys.

Ms. Lahti proudly points
out that m an overkip survey
ot eighty ci illeges, some
stiklents picked Agnes Scott
over such competitors as
Hmory, Rhodes, Mount
Holyoke, Bryn Mawr, ,ind
Tuhine. The merlap survev
shows the colleges to which
students were .idmitted .md
the students' fm.il selections.

Not content to rest on
their record-hre.ikmg l.uirels,
Ms. L.ihti and her st.iff st.irted
pl.mning for next \e,ir m
l.itiii.irv. .And, e\ identK',
would-he stLklents ,ire getting
a lump .Is well. B.ick in Line,
when most high school
seniors ,ire just st.irtinL: their
summer v.ic.itions, one young
wom.m was app.irenlK think-
ing .ihead. She filled out ,ind
sent her .ipplic.it ion for
.Agnes Scott's cl.issot 1^'94.

/7k" rccDxd frirsli class firDmiscs mmc diiviMtx m uilc. t;cin;ni|i/i\

ASC claims Kresge
challenge grant

With outstanding staff and
volunteer eftcirt, Agnes Scott
met the challenge. Tlieir
labor netted the $836,232
needed to claim a S300,000
challenge grant by the Kresge
Foundation.

".Alumnae played an im-
portant part in helping us
claim the grant," says Bcinnie
Brown Johnscin '70, vice
president tor development
.ind public attairs. "Over 40
percent ot the funds raised
came from alumnae. [Kresge
C'hallenge Committee
Ch.iirs] Christie Wixidfin "6S
.md Porothv Quillian Reeves
'4*-' .md thetr committee were
in\ .ilu.ihle in helping us meet
the goal."

The funds will he used tor
the College's tine arts pro-
gram. Development officials
note that 5730,000 was raised
specifically for the tine arts,
the remaining 5106,000 c.ime
from unrestricted campaign
funds.

This year has been .i giiod
one tor alumnae donations.
Ms. lohn.son notes. ".Alum-
n.ie gifts were a much higher
percent. ige ot our giving than
last ye.ir. .Alumnae h.ive been
.issummg greater ownership of
the College.

"We're grateful tor cor-
por.ite .md foundation sup-
port." Ms. lohnson continues,
"but .It 1. 1st we're bearing
some of the responsthilirv
outsehes."

Those interested m con-
inhuting should contact
M.iiA .Anne C.umt, de\ elop-
ment speci.ilist. at 404 '^71-
(12^0 or Bonnie Brow n
lohnson. at 404 ^71 oV4.

46fMI 1989

FINALE

Sims returns to ASC
as interim dean

Dr. Catherine Sims; ConniiH-
ing to serve Agties Scott

Because Catherine Sims
believes that "no good and
gracious gesture should e\er
be refused," she accepted
President Schmidt's otter to
become interim Dean of the
College for a one-year term.
The search committee was
unable to find a permanent
replacement for Dean Ellen
Wood Hall '67 before she left
to become president ot Con-
verse College.

Dr. Sims says that she was
reluctant to come hack to
Agnes Scott tor a fourth
time, but President Schmidt
convinced her otherwise.
"She said that she thought 1
could be of use to the College
and give the board some time
without undue haste to
find a dean," says Dr. Sims.

Dr. Sims attended Barnard
College, where she was elect-
ed to Phi Beta Kappa. She
earned her master's degree
and doctorate from Ciilumbia
University.

Her youthful appearance
belies the fact that Catherine
Strateman Sims first came to
Agnes Scott 50 years ago.
She began as a part-time lec-
turer in the hi.story depart-
ment, eventually becoming a

professor ot iTisrory and politi-
cal science. In \^>bO she went
to Turkey to become \'ice
preMdent and dean at the
.American College tor Girls.
Psychology Protes.sor .Ay^e
llg.i: Carden '68 attended the
school, founded by .Ameri-
cans o\er 125 years ,igo, tor
Turkish girls.

After Turkey, Dr. Sims
returned to Agnes Scott to
teach for one year and then
left to spend eleven years .is
dean of the college at Sv\eet
Briar before packing up and
returning to Atlanta once
more. Her next stmt .it the
College w.is ,is \isiting
professor ot historv m l'-)75.

"Since then," she says,
"I've been busy being a citi-
zen ot Atlanta and a home-
maker." She is also active m a
number of volunteer activi-
ties. Dr. Sims now serves on
the national senate of Phi
Beta Kappa and was president
tor a three-year term.

Dr. Sims intends to be a
busy interim dean. She ticks
off a number ot issue-s c m her
agenda: getting to know the
faculty and untlerst, moling the
curriculum; tliscussmg staffing
needs with department
chairs; working with two fa-
culty committees on a revi-
sion of the faculty handbook;
and learning more about such
programs as Global Aware-
ness, academic computing,
and women's studies.

But as a slower-paced sum-
mer geared up tci the hectic
fall, the former history pro-
fessor said she enjoyed reac-
quainting herself with the
College. "1 still know a num-
ber of people here," she said,
smiling, "and I'm taking a
great deal of pleasure in that."

CENTENNIAL KEEPSAKE

Agnes Scott College's first hundred years t)verflow with
memories of persons known, places recognized and
traditions shared. As the final commemoration of our
Centennial, a pictorial history ot Agnes Scott Ct)llege
will be issued next spring.

Full of photographs, anecdotes, legends and little-
known facts, this heautitul book will capture the spirit as
well as the promise of Agnes Scott College.

Published by Susan Hunter Publishing Company ot
Atlanta, the hook wilt be a high quality hardback, over
100 pages long, with a ribbtm bookmark, dustjacket, and
embossed linen cover. It will be written by College

Archivist Lee Sayrs '69 and Dr. Christine Cozzens,
English faculty member and director of Agnes Scott's
Writing Workshop. Before coming to Agnes Scott, Dr.
Cozzens taught writing at Harvard and Emory universi-
ties. She writes for journals and newspapers, including
The New York Times and the Boston Globe.

Until February 22, 1990, you can order this special
book for $29.95 plus $3.50 shipping and handling; its
regular price will he $39.95 plus $3.50 shipping and
handling. To order: make checks payable to Agnes Scott
College and send to Centennial Book, Agnes Scott
College, Decatur, Ga., 30030.

r'

n

Plea.sc send _
handling) to:

)pies @ $2'^.95 (plu.s $3.50 shippin- :ind

|_,^

J

AGNES scon MAGAZINE 47 I

AGNES scon

ALUMNAE MAGAZINE WINTER 1990

OUT THE WINDOW

T.ikc yourself hack 100 years.
North Dakota, South Dakota,
Montana, and Washirmtun hatl
just heconie states. The i^cAernnient
had <)]^ened Oklahoma to non-lnelian
Nettlenient.

The South was still in disarray.
Although the last Federal troops had
witliLlr.iun hv 1N77, the Caxil War's
de\'astari(in hail set this re.^ion hack
decades hehind the rest nt the n.ition.

As Edward McNair w rites in /.est
\V"e Fi)r'.^L'[, this ilcstruetuin was no-
where more evident than in eiluea-
tion. "Man\ schonK and LollcLjes
nexer reopened after the war," he
writes, ami man\ found their endow-
ments m)ni.', their huiklinus ilcstrowvl,
their faculties se.ittered.

ElementatN and sLcondar\ puhlie
education w.is r.ite and iiklimentarv. l">ne-room schooh
were the standard, nian\ teacheis hareK literate.

DunnL; the l<S70s ,ind ISSOs, C^cotuia w,is impox-ur-
islu'd. The .Atlanta pulMie school s\stcni Ix'y.m its
struL;L;lL' in 1^72, hut rural areas h.id little to work with.

Six miles from .Atlanta, DeLalur's one ihous.ind
citizens crossed the unsettled stretch to .Atl.mt.i \ i.t the
Geori;ia Railroad or h\ horsi'-dt.iwn i^uL;L;\'. In INSiS-.S'-)
two schools opctated in the town, oix' pui^lic ,ind one
pri\-.ite; the\ hoth sooil toLled. PuItIk educition in
L\'catur would not take hold tor another thirteen \e.ns

Further e.ist in Oxford, C/ia., Is.i.ic S. 1 lopkins resi^iK.
;is president ol Fmor\ C^otleiie to hecome the first presi-
dent ot the Oeoruia School ot TechnoloLiv. 1 lopkin's
successor, Warren .A. C .'andler, took the helm ol Fmory
C^olleL;e, the same ye.ir his enlerprisini^ hrother, .Asa,

StifJoit.s ()/ .A^Ties Scoit /Tistittitc.

ISQ], m/rnnt ()/ Willie HoKsc.

fC:()i(ncs\ njihc Ltc .Mrs, Ella Smith

Durlvim. a sniJeiit ui the Institute.}

houu'ht the formula to Coca-Cola.

Meanwhile in Decatur, the Rev.
Frank hlcnrs' Gaines came as pastor
( if the Decatur Presbyterian Church.
.And e\eiits were set in motion. . . .

Tliis issue, and the College's
Centennial, celebrate all that has
happened since then. Reminis-
cences by Dr. Catherine Sims,
images from the College exhibit at
the .Atl.mta Historical Society, a
fond look back at the celebratory-
year, and a taste ot the histor\- ot
.Agnes Scott comprise our offering.

The Centennial year aUo
brought fi\e alumnae, each distin-
guished m her field, to the College
as lecturers. We feature tour of
them m this issue's Lifestyle section;
the fifth, C^arolyn Forman Piel '40,
has been so featured before, after her selectioii as an Out-
st.mding .Akimna (.Acnes Scott M.ac.azine, Fall 'SI).
We want to especi.ilK thank College .Archi\ist Lee
Sa\rs 'h'-) tor her ci>oper,ition m photographing and
klentit\ing im.iges and objects from the archives and
alumnae. But the task is onl\- beginning.

We also ask vour help m gi\ mg .mv information vui
ma\ ha\e aJsout dates, locttions and identities ot people
pictured in the photos we've included. Lee is now
uorkinu w ith t,icult\ niemlser (.~hristine L"o::ens ,mi a
pictorial histor\ ot .Agnes Scott to be published next
spring. Mote inform, iiion on the l.\-ntennial boi^k
.ippe.irs m the news section. Please send anv information
\iHi h.ne to Editor, .All MN \i: Mac.azinh, Office of Publi-
cations, Agnes Scott (.College, IVcatur, (.ni., W^O.
Lynn Donham

Editor: Lynn nunliaiii, Managing Editor: Stiiccy Noilcs Junes, Art Director: V. Michael Xlclia, Editorial Assistant: .\ni;clic .-Mtord

Student Assistants: Michelle Cook 'QO, Crystal Couch '93, Lisa Lankshear '93, Helen Nash '95, Carrie Noble '9i. Zeynep Yalim '^^O,

Editorial Advisory Board: C\-or^e Brown, .Ayse llga: Garden '66, Christine Co::ens, Susan Ketchin Edgcrton '70. Karen Green '86, Steven

(.iuthrie. Bonnie Brown Johnson '70, R;indy Jones '70, Eli:aheth H;illni,in Snit:er '85, Tish ^'oung McGutchen '7 \ Beckv Pniphet.

lludley Sanders, Ediiuind Sheehey, Luci,i How.ird Siremore '(>5.

Copyright U'l-JO, .-Xgnes Scott College. Published thiee times ,i ye.ir by the y^ttue ot Publicitions, .\gnes Scott College, Buttnck Hall.

College Avenue, IVcatur, CiA }00^0. 404/371 -63 1 S, The mag.i:ine is pubhshed t,n .ilumnae .mvl triends of the College. Postmaster; Send

address changes to Office of De\elopiiieni .uid Publu .Athiirs, .Agnes Seott College, Pec.itur, Cl.\ ^''Ok''. Like other content of the

inagazine, this article reflects the opuiion ,i| the writer .uid not the \ lewpomt ol the CAiUege, its trustees, or .Klministration.

TURNABOUT

CONTENTS

Please accept my hearty congratulations
on the fall issue!

So far, I've had time only to read the
interesting and provocative articles, hut
am anticipating reading every word.
Your choice of the outstanding people
who contributed is inspiring, provoca-
tive and just plain wonderful!

Now 1 feel even more proud to claim
Agnes Scott College as my Alma Mater,
Elizabeth Moore Kester '26
Highlands, N.C.

I would like to clarify a couple ot points
in the Spring '89 article about my work
as an air traffic controller. First in the
1981 controllers' strike there were con-
siderably more than 1,400 controllers
fired by President Reagan the number
should have read about 1 1 ,400. Due to
retirements and the number ot people
who never complete the training pro-
gram, we are still struggling to recover.

Secondly, with the litigation still in
progress concerning the crash of Delta
flight 191 in August, 1985, 1 want to
emphasize that my husband, Randal
Johns, was responsible for the control of
Delta 191 in the vicinity of Texarkana,
some 40 minutes before the crash. At
that time he told 191 that he thought a
southwesterly route looked better for
storm avoidance, en route, as opposed to
the westerly route that the pilot wished
to take. As in all cases, the pilot has the
final say as to what he or she will do and
191 took the westerly route. That action
had no bearing on the actual crash.

Randy's thoughts afterward were that
if he had insisted that the pilot take
another route to the airport, 191 would
not have been at the crash point at the
particular time, because it would have
taken the plane a different length of
time to arrive. He did not warn the pilot
away from the storm that ultimately
caused the crash because he did not
know it was there and it was about 200
miles away from where Randy's airspace
was.

Randy's feelings were entirely self-
imposed and no one has ever implied
that his actions in any way affect the
outcome.

Lu Ann Fergusim '82
Keller, Texas

AGNES SCOIT

Centennial
Celebration

A Stunnini
Legacy, A Shining
Tomorrow

by Lynn Donham

ave an
stimulating year,
unbered with
ires and anecdotes .

A brief look at Agnes
Scott's history and how
it shaped the College we
became and will
become in the future.

Page 4
Lifestyles

AGNES scon MAGAZINE 3

LIFESTYLES

Anderson's "art"
is helping others
through art

Dr. Frances E.
Anderson '65,
wears many hats.
The artist, researcher, in-
novator, author, interna-
tional scholar, tuture
thinker, therapist and
teacher says ot herself, "1
suppose 1 could he laheled
either a dilettante or a
renaissance person, hut
I've always enjoyed
viewing the art field from
the broadest of perspec-
tives."

The New C:astle, Dela.,
native, who j^rew up in
Louisx'ille, Ky., hopes her
work reflects the native
American adage, "we ha\'e
no word for art . . . we di >
everythin.u as well as we
possibly can." She began
her college career plan-
ning to write poems and
short stones, but tluring
her sophomore year art
won her o\er, .iiilI she
finished with majors in art
an^l psychology Those
fields markeel the begin-
ning of her interest m ,irt
for special-needs children.
A founding member of
the American Art Ther-
apy Association m I'^'h'-*,
Dr. Anderson has been
among those pushing to
open the Lloor of art
therapy for disabled
children, it took profes-
sionals with miiltKlisci|ili-
nary expertise to make ait
therapy the respected
discipline m education
and meni.il health thai it
is today.

For twentv \ears

Frances Anderson's
interest has been deline-
ating this emerging disci-
pline. As a professor of art
at Illinois State Univer-
sity for much of that time,
Dr. Anderson has been a
national and interna-
tional leader in art
education and art ther-
apy. Her in\'ol\-ement
spans research, education,
publications, consulting,
program ex'aluation; her
expertise has taken her
throughout the United
States as well as to
Australia, Pakistan,
Thailand and Yugoslavia.

She has published
more than forty articles,
written or contributed to
SIX books, received thirty-
five grants an^l made
more than one hundred
conference presentations.

Pr. .Anderson focuses
on stiklying ,ind lIocu-
mentmg how the arts can
help remediate l^eh.n lor.il
.iiilI learninL; problems in
disabled children. 1 ler
l'-)y2 monograph, ,A
Rciiciv nf the PuHi^hcd
Literature on Arts for the
Hcindieapped: l^Ul-l^^^l,
which was publisbei.1 bv
the national conuiuttee
.Arts lor the 1 landicapped
(since renamed \'er\-
Special .Arts: L'S.A),
became a nationallv
recognized resource.

,As a result of th.it
l.m^lm.irk work, ti\e \eais
,igo .1 ci imiuission askev.1
that Hi". .Anderson con-
duct the first compreben-
si\e e\aliial ion ot the
more lb, in 4^0 \'er\
Special .Alts progi.iins in
the tinned States ,ind

.Art edueator Franees .Ajulcrsi
means for i^'oxeth and elvini^e

thirtv other nations. Back
then, no hard d.ua existed
in these programs, and her
information was xar.il in
preserx'ing an^l exp. moling
\'S.A funding.

"Working on th.it
ex.ilu.ition w.is especi.illv
s,insf\ing for me," Hr.
.Anderson recalled. "1 took
part in the establishment
ot \'er\ Special .Arts m
Washington, P.C, in
U>74." '

1 lowe\ er, n is her
direct inxobement with
L hiklren w bo ha\ e emo-
tion, il prolMems, pb\sical
or ment.il dis.il^ilities,
bearing problems, le.nning
dis.il^liln les. ,ind \ isu.il
problems tb.it gi\es her
the most rew.ird, s.ud Dr.

in: "The artistic pirocess is a
lor the disabled child."

.Anderson during her
speech .is ,i Distinguished
Centennial .Alumnae
Lecturer last Januarv at
.Agnes Scott.

"The o\-erall thera-
peutic goal of this work
is to tacilit.ue e.K'h
child's total development
emotional, ph\sical
,ind intellectual
through art. The artistic
prcicess IS the means tor
growth ,tnd change, the
l^tkKCSs thrvHigh which .i
child g.uns a gre.uer selt-
.iw .ireness and has expe-
riences w ith success," she
s.ud. "The special child
le,irns to decode the
cb.ios ot traumatic lite
experiences \i,) the
intermedi.iries of paper.

4 WINTER 1990

LIFESTYLES

paint, and clay. The
benefits ot art as therapy,"
Dr. Anderson said, "are
related to tultilling needs
that special children
have: [the same] needs
that nonimpaired,
'healthy' children have."

As tor her contrihu- .
tions to the profession ot
art therapy, the educator
is most proud of her
graduate students. All
have made their own
contributions to the
profession, she noted.

In 1979 she published
a work jointly authored
with a colleague at
Illinois State University
and one of her doctoral
students titled "Art tor
the Handicapped." The
training model and
subsequent evaluation
method used in the book
are still very valid, ac-
cording to Dr. Anderson.
After a decade, "Art for
the Handicapped" is still
the seminal work in the
field. She plans to include
case studies from it in a
revised edition ot another
work.

Dr. Anderson has been
a visiting scholar or
professor at universities in
the U.S. and Australia,
including a 1982 term as
visiting scholar at Rad-
cliffe College's Bunting
Institute.

Two years ago. Dr.
Anderson received the
prestigious June King
McFee Award from the
National Art Education
Association. The award
has been given to fewer
than ten outstanding art
educators for significant

contributions to the
field. This past February,
she was one ot three
Illinois State University
tacLilty members named
outstanding researcher.

Despite the \ast
amount ot time Dr.
Anderson ,speni.ls with
her work, she continues
her own arttLil pursuits,
including ceramics,
watercolors and photog-
raphy. She blended her
photography skills with a
recent passion tor sctiba
dning and has become
an underwater photogra-
pher. She also is an a\id
tennis player.

Although she :s L|uick
to acknowlege her men-
tors, Mary J. Rouse ot
Intliana University
(where Dr. Anderson
earned her master's antl
doctoral LJegrees) and
Agnes Scott's Miriam K.
Drucker, Dr. Anderson
realizes that mentors are
rarely recogni:e(.l.

in addition to those
women, said the distin-
guished educator, "I
would ha\e to (.|uickly
add all the handicapped
children with whom 1
have worked. They have
taught and given me tar
more than I ha\e e\'er
given them." In the tinal
analysis, the real test of
mentorship is whether it
is 'passed on.' My hope is
that those whom 1 have
helped along the way
ha\'e indeed 'passed it
on.' " Marc Lebovitz

Marc Lehovitz is assistant
director of the Illinois State
University News Service.

Legislator's
career stresses
equality for all

Nobody in Wash-
ington, D.C.,
wanted to hire
women lawyers back when
Bertha "B" Merrill Holt 'vS
was looking tor a |ob atter
earning her law (.legree.
Take a typing course, they
said, and maybe yoti can
find work as a legal secre-
tary. Ms. Holt never did
learn hin\' to t\pe, but it
hasn't slowetl her down.

Now in her tourteenth
year as a North Carolina
state legislator, Ms. Holt
still encounters folks who
don't expect a lawyer to be
a woman. "The most tun I
ha\e is dri\-ing aroimtl
Stokes County, where you
can find a bunch ot guys
wearing bib o\'eralls sitting
around a wood sto\e at a
country store. They look at
me like I'm soniethmg
trom Mars. But we get
chatty, and when 1 come
back, they greet me and
ask questions and we talk."

ButifMs. ffolt is
something ot an anomaly
m the state legislattite, it's
for her outspoken x'lews
rather than her gender.
She can be as charming
and gracious as you please,
but mention an issue like
the Equal Rights Amend-
ment which was nar-
rowly defeated m North
Carolina and Ms. Holt
gets visibly agitated.

"If we had pas,sei.l the
amendment here in North
Carolina, it would have
been ratified nationally,"
says Ms. Holt, who served

as the constitutional
amendments committee
chair at the time. "We
lost it by two votes, and it
was absolutely lost by our
chief justice, a woman,
who called members ot
the Senate and asked
them to change their
\'ote. I will never get ovet
that. It was totally tinbe-
lievable to watch women
destroy the Equal Rights
Amendment.

"John Stuatt Mill, way
back yonder, wrote an
essay about women," she
continues. "And he said
this: Women will stop
women trom getting
anywhere. He wrote th;it
back in the 1800s, but if it
were reprinted, you'i.1
think it had been written
today."

E\-en though Ms. Holt
h;is been active in social
legislation, she has
avoided working strictly
on "v\'omen's issues," since
her district, the 25th,
consists of a diverse
constituency. Her formula
tor success is simple: "1
can't bother to lie bec<uise
It's too much trouble to
remember what I said. So
1 just tell the truth no
matter what. You jiist
emphasize different
things" depending on your
auelience, she says.

Ms. Holt has also been
actix'e in the Episcopal
church. When she was
appointed to the vestry,
Ms. Holt was instrumental
in getting a woman lay
reader licensed to admini-
ster the chalice. "We had
to set it up so that two
people administered the

AGNES SCOTT MAGAZINE 5

LIFESTYLES

A stnini;, luli'iKdtc nj u'()mi.'n's )"(,i^/i(s, "B" hh<h has been
surlmscd that "women su>l> i('(j?7U'n fram fjc'ttini; un^ic/u're."

chiihcc, she s;iys, iinLl it
s( Hiu-i inc JiJn't \Minr tn
rccc'ixe the wine trom ,i
wdiii.in, rliey coulJ iji i t(i
the cither Mile ;iiul they
did." Ms. Holt is,ils,,,,ne
ot (inly rhiee penjMe to
i"ecei\e the Noith C litre i-
lin;i C'lititieil ot C'hiirehes'
Fiiith Aerive to Puhlic
!,ite A\v;trJ.

For rhe p;isr twenty
yeais, Ms. Holr ;inJ her
luishand, Wintiekl Cllary
Hcilt, have traveled

ahro.id ( in what she calls
their "total iniiiiersion
plan." This tall, rhey \'en-
tiire^l to Istanhtil, E.uypt,
and FJif^land. She spends
a year preparint; for these
trips, reading; ahmit the
countries they plan to
\ isit and learninu some ot
the name lanyiiayes.

But her hiL:s^est pas-
sion, outside ot work, is
line \\ ines. Betore she
entered the legislature,
Ms. Holt presented slide

show lectures about wine
and even considered
opening a wine store. "I
wish I'd started this hohby
earlier because there's so
much to learn," she says.
"I used to belong to a
group called Les Amis du
Vin, and we'd hold work-
ing taste testings to
compare different wines.
TTiat's one way to learn.
But it h( ithers me when
people come up to me at a
party and say, 'You'll be
pleased to see I'm drink-
ing wine now instead ot
liquor,' and they'\'e
brought a jug ot some-
thing and drink the whole
thing. That's not the
point."

As a politician who's
seen man\' changes during
the course of her career,
Ms. Holt has maintained
a wry sense ot humor
about her profession and
herself. "Since i'\e been
[in the legislature] a long
time, people know mv
name aiul thex'll cill me
aiid want ro know
e\er\ thing in the world.
l^ne minute the\ think 1
don't know anything, the
next minute I'm supposed
to know e\er\tlring. Curls
will call me up and want
to know wliat to iiia)or m.
Last winter, on a ramv
Sunday afternoon, ,i
woman called me up and
w,intei.l to see iiie ur-
gent 1\. So she came m.
and expl. lined that she
was retired, h.id been di-
\drced, was drawing
Social Securiiw and she
w.mted to know it 1
thought she should ,L:et
married agaiii."

Ms. Holt says she
wants to continue in the
legislature as long as
possible, because it's a
"ne\er-ending source of
excitement. I've pur-
p( isely stayed in the
Hi luse rather than going
into the Senate because I
like the making of laws.
Actually, last session I
spent more time tr\-ing to
stop bad legislation,
which takes more time
and effort than it does to
pass good legislation. But
it's rewarding when you
can see that you're having
some kind of effect on
getting good laws passed
ani.1 making good things
happen."

Her hard work in the
legislature has not gone
unnoticed either. In
November, Ms. Holt will
recei\-e the Ellen B.
\X inston .Award tc^r her
work in social legislation.
Ms. Winston was the first
woman commissioner ot
welfare in North Carolina
and went to work in the
Health, Education and
W elf are Department in
Washington, D.C. Ms.
Holt savs Ms. Winston
"nexer stopped wc'irking;
she was a real ball ot fire."

"When vou gather all
the awards together thev
look pretrv giiod," she
sa\s. But working for
l^errer social conditions
"is one ot those thines
\ou Hist do." Bridget
Booher

Bnt(r;ct Buo/ic)' i,< the
features editor for Diikc
Mdsjatinc iti Durham.

IsJ.C.

6 WINTER 1990

LIFESTYLES

Editor Taylor
seeks to capture
tfie write word

EdkoYb e\-entually
use almost even-
piece of information
picked up from their formal
education, general reading,
and lite experience, says
Prise ilia Shephard Taylor
'53 ot lier chosen profes-
sion.

"What I most like," she
says, "is that I learn some-
thing new every day,
indeed, with every project.
And I've never met a
manuscript that couldn't be
improved, however esoteric
the subject."

A Distinguished Cen-
tennial Alumnae Lecturer
this past year, the McLean,
Va., resident edits Phi Beta
Kappa's quarterly Key
Reporter and is senior editor
for Editorial Experts, Inc.,
the largest editorial firm in
the Washington, D.C. area,
where her affinity tor
precision with the written
word has earned Prise ilia
Taylor a niUable reputa-
tion.

When the College asked
her to talk about editing in
general, and the relation-
ship between liberal
learning and her career, she
says she enjoyed being
forced to put some perspec-
tive on her profession and
Agnes Scott's contribution
to her preparation tor it.

"In effect, editing is a
liberal arts education
carried to its logical ex-
treme it spans every
discipline. Agnes Scott not
only educates you broadly,
but it teaches you to think

clearly and clear think-
ing is the secret ot clear
writing," Ms. Taylor says.

Agnes Scott's first
Fulbright Scholar, Ms.
Taylor received her
master's degree in interna-
tional history from the
London School of Eco-
nomics in 1955. She
subsequently worked as an
analyst/editor for the
Central Intelligence
Agency in Washington,
D.C, and later lived in
tour Asian cities during
her husband's stint with
the State Department.
She has taught o\-erseas
and at the Uni\-ersity ot
Virginia.

Before joining the just-
started Editorial Experts in
1976, Ms. Taylor worked
as a contract writer with
several government
agencies. Before taking on
The Key Reporter in 1984,
she was editiir ot The Edi-
torial Eye, a newsletter tor
editors and writers that
focuses on publications

standards and practices,
and she continues to write
articles and to re\iew
books for that publication.

She works on a variety
ot publicatiiins from
national commission
reports and government
agency journals to popular
magazines but Prise ilia
Taylor says that for the
past tew years she has con-
centrated on acatlcmic
publications, including a
series ot diplomatic case
studies for the John
Hopkins School tor
Advanced Internatu >n,il
Students and a number ot
books on current domestic
policy for Washington
think tanks.

She has completed a
dozen KH)ks tor the
Woodrow Wilson C^entei"
tor Interriatitinal Scholars,
which are being published
by the Cambridge Unix'er-
sity Press.

"It 1 ha\e a specialty,"
she says, "it may be
turning scholarly papers

Priscilki Taylor, an "in/ioni" editor of skill and practiet
never met a manuseript that eouliln't he improwd."

presented at conferences
into readable books.
Right now, I'm finishing a
fascinating study on
'Wl-uther the Balkans.'' for
the Wilson Center, and I
can't wait to get to the
next in line, a review of
German and Chinese
literature since World
War II.

"My husband has iiften
said he thinks I'd probably
work tor free, because I
enjoy it so much."

Ms. Taylor met her
husband. Jack, a veteran
of several government
departments, when they
were both working in
Washington in the mid-
1950s. Both now work at
home surrounded by
books, electronic type-
v\ liters, and a computer.
(Ms. Taylor's husband is a
full-time writer.)

DoLibleday recently
published Jack Taylor's
third biography, a hook
about his father called
General Maxivell D.
Taylor: The Sword and the
Pen. When asked if she
edits her husband's
writing, Priscilla Taylor
says, "His work needs
little editing 1 taught
him all I know some time
ago, but I do make sure
that the style is consis-
tent. We often consult
each other on our various
projects."

She believes that
writing and editing take
different skills. "I consider
myself an editor rather
than a writer," she says,
"though I end up doing a
great deal of writing. But
most writers are creative.

AGNES SCOTT MAGAZINE 7

LIFESTYLES

and creativity can detract
from one's vvillmLjness to
retain the orij^inal flavor ot
.someone else's work."

For his part, Jack Taylor
comments, "My wife's
remarkahle power of
concentration is part of
the secret ot her success. 1
write at most tor a tew
hours at a stretch, hut she
can concentrate almost
without stopping all tlay."

She does stop, thoui^h,
whenever ,i tennis y.uiie
heckons, which can he two
or three times a week. "1
^lidn't i.lisco\er tennis until
I found myself m Rangoon
|Burma| with a tennis
court in my front yai\l,"
Ms. Taylor says.

The Taylors ha\e three
children, the second of
whom, Kath;irine, has
taken an editorial joh in
Maiyland. "The predispo-
sition that makes good
ei^litors is inhom, though
editors l^ecome skilled
with practice an^l study,"
Ms. Taylor says. "1 used to
smile at Kathy's efforts to
resist heing an e^litor
hecause she ohxiously had
,ill the riuht instincts."

TheTavlors'oldest
daughter, Alice, is a
professional cellist in
London where she li\'es
with her hush.ind, a
musicoloL;ist .It the Ijnt-
\ersit\ ot London, jim, 2^,
gradii.ited from Pax itlson
C'ollege in June. June
Dollar

jimc I \ilLir is a u'7"iti.') iiiul
cdiuir at the Aincndiu i ui-
rfi"si(\. She List it'votc 11)1
Katlmnc Win / 'i(\ii '72 jur
the Winter l^)f)S i.s.skc.

Asia watcher
delighted by
era of change

June 4, IMSOwasa
memorahle, emo-
tional (.lay for IV. Mary
Brown Bullock 'bb. It
w,is difficult tor her to
watch television from her
home in Washington, D.C.
and see the eruptions m
Beijing's Tian.inmen
Sc^uare without feeling
anxiety for a country so
close to her heart.

The daughter ( if Preshv-
terian missionaries, Pr.
Bullock spent her chikl-
hood in Asi.i and gained
appreciation and under-
standing of the region's
people, 1 let elenientarv
years were spent m
Kwangju, Korea, where her
mother taught her school.
She later atteneled an
international high school
in Japan, anel returned to
the U.S. to attend Agnes
Scott, majoring in history.
She recen ed her master's
and Ph. P. in C 'hinese
histor\' from Stanford Uni-
versity.

l^r. Bullock recentlv
accepte^l the opportunitv
to put her experience to
work m the lU'XUs hetween
.icademics aiul puhlic
policy. ,As the new director
of the Woodrow Wilson
International Center for
Schol.iis' .Asi.i progr.im,
Pr. iMillock diiecls re-
search programs .ind
program conlei"i.'nces on
hoth Last ,ind South .Asi.i.

The Woodrow Wilson
(."enter is a non-partisan
research institution tor the
humanities and siicial

sciences that hrings in
fellows from throughout
the world through an
annual international
competition. The center is
designed to hridge the gap
hetween the world of
.scholarship and the world
of puhlic pi)licy.

".Ahout a year ago 1
decided I needed a change,"
says Pr. Bullock, who had
spent <i year at the Wilson
Center as a fellow while on
sahhatical in 1984. "1 knew
that the Wilson Center
W( iLild provide an ideal i ip-
portunity to continue mv
work in C^hina, while
returning w my hn lader
Asian interest m hoth
Kttrea and Japan. The .Asia
program has a wide geo-
graphical re,ich from .Af-
ghanistan toj.ipan. 1 spent
se\er,il weeks m japan this
summer, and will trawl to
India in Novemher."

For more than a decade
Pr. BulliKk had heen the
Pirector of the C 'ommitree
on Scholarly (.."ommunica-
tion with the People's
Repiihlic ot Cdiiiia
(CSCPRC). This national
organiration pioneere^l the
renewal ot .American
academic relatioi-is with
C 'hin.i.

"At thee:S(.:PRCl had
the extraorLlmarx opportu-
nit\ ot Ix'ing in the riuht
pi, ice at the right time. We
were ,ihle to bring together
( 'hmese m\J .Americm
St hoi, Us |ust ,is the door to
C 'iiina w,is opening. I
Ix'cmie in\'ol\x\l in
esi.ihlisiiing tr.iining ,ind
lescirch progr.iiiis tot
,-\nieric,in gr,idu,ite stu-
dents and faculty in I'hina,

as well as the flow of
Chinese students to the
United States.

"Now that I am at the
Wilson Center, I am able
to continue my focus on
academic relations with
China, including the
current plight of Chinese
intellectuals and students,
hoth in and outside
China. For example, we
are holding a series ot
seminars titled 'China's
Continuing Revolution,'
which hrings policymakers
from Capitol Hill, the De-
partment of State, and the
National Security' Council
together with scholars to
explore the histc^rical
roots of China's current
crisis."

Pr. Bullock savs that
her decision to take the
career directicin she has
w,is a "fairlv natural" one.

"Li\ ing abroad was
such an importaiit experi-
ence tor me," she savs. "1
look hack on mv child-
hood as an idealistic time,
although 1 do rememl'^er
being stared at a lot.
There were few Ameri-
cans li\ ing in Kwangju at
the time. There might
ha\e been sexen .Ameri-
cm families in a citv of
1 "^0.000 people." .Al-
though this was isolating,
she beliex'es her childhood
shaped and prepared her
tor w h,n she is doing now.

"1 becime good friends
w ith Korean children. I'xe
de\ eloped a lot\g-standing
.ittection tor .Asian people,
.md I feel \erv comfort-
.il^le 111 their en\'iron-
ment."

Pr. Bullock savs the

VVINIFR 1990

LIFESTYLES

transition from Asia to the
United States wasn't easy-
The U.S. was in the midst
ot the civil rights mo\e-
ment ot the '60s and the
emphasis of the nation was
less on international affairs
than on domestic ones.

"I had friends at Agnes
Scott who helped smooth
my transition, hut I was
not prepared for the extent
of segregation in the U.S.,"
she says. "I do look back at
those years at Agnes Scott
as a time when the South
was going through tremen-
dous change. It was ulti-

mately a \ery posiri\e
experience.

"One of the most mem-
orable times was partici-
pating in the Selma
march. It was scary, but I
never doubted that the
changes people were stri\-
ing tor would be made."

Dr. Bullock doubts that
her family will e\'er live
abroad, but hopes to ex-
pose her children to as
much Asian culture as
possible. Her son, Gra-
ham, 1 \ has tra\eled with
her to .Asia, and her
dautjhter, .Ashlev, ^\ will

Mary Broun Bulluck: An "idealistic childhnnd" in China
laid the ^oundu^ork for a lifelong interest in Asian studies.

accompany her m the near
future.

"Graham, my brother
Bill, and I traveled to
Kwangju a few years agii
and met with some ot my
father's as,sociate,s. Korea
has changed more than
China. We had ,i mar\el-
ous time," she says.

A second brother,
George Brown, directs
Agnes Scott's Global
Awareness Program, while
her mother, Mary Hopper
Brown, is an akimna, class
of '43. Dr. Bullock's
husband, George, is an
historian who shares his
wife's interest m interna-
tional affairs.

She and her husband
met at Stanfon.1 and
married shortly after her
Ph.D. exams. They mo\'ed
to Texas and later Alaska,
where both taught at the
Uni\-ersity ot Alaska.
E\'entLially, job opportuni-
ties brought both Bullocks
to Washington.

"1 finished my disserta-
tion in 1973. Nixon had
traveled to China and
everything was begmnmL;
to open up. In 1974 1 mai.le
my first trip to China,
accompanying American
seismologists. Tliat was the
beginning ot about fifteen
years ot work in U.S./
Chinese relations," Dr.
Bullock says. "Since the
early '70s I've travelled to
China once or twice a year,
working mainly with
scholars in all disciplines.

"The changes I'xe seen
in Beijing have been
extraordinary. 1 eloubt th.it
any city has changei.1 as
much in the past decade.

Anyone participating in
U.S./Chinese relations
sensed the escalating pace
of change until this sum-
mer. It is difficult now to
assess the future."

Dr. Bullock's first book
was on the Rockefeller
Foundation in China, and
she has aurhored many
articles on U.S. /China
relations. She is currently
working on a second book
which IS partly based on
her experiences, China
Tiaimig West: Scientific
and Cultural Relations with
the U.S., Japan, ami
Europe, J978-/98,S.

She says that in looking
at China she percenes a
nation preoccupiei.1 with
both tradition and change.
"The key question for
ntore than a century has
been: What does it mean
to be Chinese in a modern
wiirld? What values
Chinese or Western
will promote social co-
hesion, natii>nal unity,
and economic de\'elop-
iiient'

"Our two societies are
quite (.lifterent," Dr.
Bullock says, "But, when 1
sir down with my Chinese
colleagues, I find that the
conxersation most always
turns to our children.

"We talk about their
ei.lucation and their future.
'What does the future
hokl tor them.'' we ask
ourseK'es. China doesn't
ha\'e problems with drugs
or teenage pregnancies as
we do, but their world is
\er\ uncertain. A different
work], but a shared
concern with family."
June Dollar

AGNES SCOTT AMGAZINE 9

OF SOJOURNS AT AGNES SCOTT

A JisnnyuisheJ writer, Maya Ani^e-
loii, had hcen in\-ired to address the
tmal L'entennial Convocation on
Septemher 11, 1989. On the after-
noon ot September 21, the speaker
sent wiird that rr.uel problems would
pre\-ent her tillmL; the enga,yement.
On the e\enin^ ot the 21st President
Ruth Schmidt asked me it I would
speak bnetly at the Con\ocation.n"iat
I would consider doin"; so is one ot the
benefits ot a liberal arts education. It
hcl]^s you to learn how to k\o wliat
passes tor thmkmj^ while on your teet.

Y CATHERINE SIMS

10 WINTER 1990

ir^%k^

1 give the credit to those class dis-
cussions in which we had to partici-
pate, those essay questions we had to
answer when we hadn't quite
finished the assignments.

As I stood at the lectern, it came
to me that the only reason tor my
being there was that I have been
around a long time. My appoint-
ment as interim dean ot the College
was the fourth time 1 had been on
the payroll. On three previous
occassions 1 had been a member ot
the teaching faculty, once ior about
twenty years. Clearly I was a re-
tread, but a re-tread rolling along
happily and very glad to be back
even for a short time in these tamilar
surroundings. In tact, as I walk from
building to building, in and out ot
the office in Buttrick, to the library,
the business office, Presser, Evans,
the Faculty Club, 1 feel as it I have
never lett.

1 do not remember even one tele-
phone. There were a few, very few,
on the first floor: in the President's
Office, in Dean Stukes' office, in the
Registrar's, and in Mr. Tart's office.
There may have been a pay tele-
phone which faculty could use it
they had the correct change.

We did not, as 1 remember it, teel
ourselves mistreated. Our offices

President McCJtiin s/iiucs tfit; netr Frances
Wmship Walters Infmnary to alumnae.
circa 1949.

were very few student cars on the
campus, and I cannot remember
many complaints about parking. 1
used to come out from Atlanta on
the trolley, getting it somewhere in
the neighborhood of Auburn and
Edgewood Avenues. The fare was
fi\'e cents. There were always some
students going out to the College
and then returning to Atlanta in the
late afternoon. They watched with
amusement as I corrected papers on
the return trip or studied my lessons
( in the way out.

We faculry complained a good
deal because we couldn't have all
the new books we telt the lihrar\-
should be buying. Those of us
teachmg on the librar\' side of
Buttrick complained because the
grounds crew always seemed to be
cutting the grass right under the
windows of 102 and 103 and 105. 1
think that the dean's office where 1
now sit five days a week is where I

(, lUherme Sims ddi'isi's siialt'iii N'dii
/()/i(iS()ii '-I*-'- The jnesent interim iIclui
then t(ii(,L;/ir /iis(()r\ iiiiJ /'n/ifiiii/ mii'iu'l'.

On the large, impressive desk in
the Office ot the Dean there is an

impressi\'c telephone. There are 47
buttons to i^usli and I ha\e bai.1
cimsidenible i.litticult\' m making tull
use ot them. This reminds me of tlu'
time when there were no lelephones
in taeullv offices. On the ibiid floor
of Buttrick, there was one tele-
phone. No one would answer it. In
fact II was as though there were an
unspoken agreement to pretend that
it was not there. l")n second Biiitnek

were \x'r\' plainly furnished. Some of
us shared them with others. There
were no computers, no word proces-
sors. It there were bookcases, they
might be on the decrepit side. No
rugs, I10 easy chairs, unless someone
had brought one from home. No
typewriters, unless our own. No
facLilty secretaries. We made out our
own tests and examinations, usiirg a
device unknown to the present gen-
eration of faculty. It was calkvl a
stencil. Having typed it vourselt, vou
placed it on a t\pe of well-inked roll
and turned the roll by hand until
\ou had the number ot copies \ou
needed. l.^r, if \oii didn't teel equal
to coping with the stencil, and if
\oiir cl.iss were small, \oii simply
wrote the questions oil the IMack-
board.

\\'h\ .ill this deprivation.' Because
the i 'ollege w,is poor. It w,is ,i e.ise
ot pi, nil ii\ mg and high thinking.
C^ur s.il.iries were me.iger, e\'en by
the st,ind,nds ot ihose d,i\s. There

Preient'day students "uould he uise to
take si>J)K' tips" on neat dress pom these
hohh\-stixers. says Dean Sims.

taught llistoiA 101 and History ZO^
and .1 cocktail of political science
courses. In the .iftemoori, for some
\ears, there w.is ,i once-a-week
current e\ents chiss. That iine 1
remember becuise the class reading
\v,ts Section I\' v^f The \cu York
Times Sunday edition and selected
articles in the Sunday Magazine. The
Times ot today is only a shadow ot

12 VVirJiLR IQ90

what it was, and this is especially true
of Section IV, if Section IV still
exists.

One reason we did not complain
much, except about hooks for the
library, was that no one around us
seemed to he living in luxurious
conditions. Dean Stukes had a very
small office, and if he had a secretary,
I cannot remember her. President

Students from the 1940s play basketball in
Bucher Scott Gymnasium, now the Alston
Campus Center.

Campbell Foundation to fill some
gaps in our library collection,
particularly in international law.
And the foundation paid for two
large, plastic relief maps, one ot
Europe, the other of the United
States. They were a great help in
teaching, in explaining the move-
ment of peoples, how boundaries in
Europe were set, the significance of
city locations in relation to river
valleys and intersections of rivers.
The map of the United States was
extensively used by Walter Posey,
professor of history, in his classes on
western migration. I remember once
that he put the map on a very large
table, poured a cup of water on it
somewhere up near the Canadian
border, and we watched the water
trickle down, through little streams
into mighty rivers, and the water
drained into the Gulf of Mexico.

Before there was dependable TV,
and even in the infancy of TV, we

were modest, even tht)ugh the
.speakers were often well known.
TTiree hundred to five hundred
dollars was a large fee.

Now that I am hack again I see
many changes hut I don't always
notice them until someone says
something about the Faculty Club.
"It's in the Old Infirmary." "What
do you mean," I say, "the OLD
Infimiary. That's the new Infir-
mary."

I remember when it was being

Anm^l visitor Robert Frost ivith students,
before a dinner m his honor.

McCain had a secretary but she
carried out many duties, and he
typed a great deal of his own mail.
In fact, the two or three of my letters
of appointment from him had all
been typed by him, with some of the
signs of the amateur typist which my
own work shows.

Poor we might have been, but
anything needed for the teaching
program, anything which was
available in those simpler days and
which the College could find the
money to pay for, was available. For
our current events talks during the
war years, in the weekly convoca-
tions. Dr. McCain bought a fine,
very large map and a stand to hold
it. A student, with a wand, pointed
out the places that were discussed in
the talks. She wasn't the world's best
geographer but sooner or later she
would find the place which was
mentioned.

I recall that the College received
a generous gift from the John Bulow

Students and their dates sign out to visit
the Ansley Hotel's Rainbow Room after
the 1939140 junior Banquet.

depended on our convocations and
our public lectures to keep in tt)uch
with the great world outside. Tlie
College Lecture Committee, of
faculty and student members, was
chaired by Miss Emma May Laney, a
woman who demanded much of
herself, of her students and of the
lecturers whom the committee
invited to the campus. Fees paid

constructed, the gift of a very gener-
ous donor, Mrs. Frances Winship
Walters. She wanted it to be elegant
as well as practical. Dr. McCain,
who understood well that it is one
thing to make a friend who will give
you a building, but equally impor-
tant to keep the friend (who may
well be persuaded to give another
building), wanted to let her see the
building as the exterior construction
was completed and work had begun
in the interior. But this was during
one of those long, cold, wet spells
which we sometimes have in this
area. Tlie lot lay low and the site
was a muddy mess. Mrs. Walters
couldn't get near it.

This worried Dr. McCain. I re-
member him telling me about it, and
he said, "It would break your heart
to see the old furniture from the old
infirmary which we are going to
have to move in there." I take credit
for giving him one piece of advice
which worked well. "Take Mrs.

AGNES scon /WXGAZINE 1 3

Walters into the old building and let
her see the iron beds and the beat-
up chairs and tables." He did so, and
the result was that we had the most
elegantly and luxuriously furnished
college infirmary in the country.
The living room looked as if it had
been done by Brown Decorating
Company. In those days, there was
hardly anything more impressive
than a r(x:)m "done" by Brown.

1 remember the students of the
'40s and '50s very well. Those were
the classes which I taught, some of
them from freshman through senior
year. I see many of them rather
often, at the grocery, at the College,
at the symphony, at the High
Museum, all around the Atlanta area
where I live. I remember them as
wearing skirts and blouses and saddle
oxfords. They always k)oked neat
and the students of this present gen-
eration would be wise to take some
tips from them. Not that they were

program, the president of a well-
known college in the middle west.
He was asked from the floor about
what academic and educational
issues he discussed with his students.
He paused for a second and then
said, "Most of the time I am talking
about Bermuda shorts and beer on
the campus."

Ci)ruumcr hihhyist Ralph Nader, one of
muny important public fig^ures to visit the
campus ^

the context of academic freedom.
Wallace Alston was president
when the College recei\'ed the first
very large bequest (from the estate of
Mrs. Frances Winship Walters) and
he therefore had fewer financial
concerns than had Dr. McCain. He
could pay better salaries, be more
generous in grants to attend profes-
sional meetings. I think we even got
a few telephones and the librar\-
hudget was larger. But he also had to
deal with a time of changing rela-
tions within the College. The
faculty were much more assertive,
students much less acquiescent. Nor
was it, the '60s especially, a vers-
happy period in our countrv'. The
murder of President Kennedy, the
morass in Southeast Asia in which
President Johnson found himself
engaged were reflected in student
attitudes. Not only were they
questioning the policies of the
Washington government, they were

/A'a)i Nmis remembers only one ph(me in
third-flour Buttrick in the '30s. Hy the
'70s every office had mic', by the 'HOs alt
had computers.

all great beauties. But they made the
best of themselves. Points of dispute
between administrators and students
turned on relatively simple matters
(as I see it m)w) like wearing
stockings. The dean of students
thought stcKkings es.sential for
classrooms and the dining n)om.
The students eventually won the
argument when stockings became
difficult to get and expensive. 1
remember that we had a very distin-
guished educator on the lecture

In the long period ciivered by my
lives at Agnes Scott, there are two
presidents whom I remember well,
who stand out. One was James Ross
McC'ain, who presided over a ver>'
poor college. But he saw to it that
we always had everything in reason
that was needed for the teaching
program. What we had would be
peanuts to the present faculty, but it
was the best that could be given
then and the president's effort was to
ensure the highest quality for the
educational program. He never
pressed for research, though he was
always gracious in recognizing those
in the faculty who found the time
for research; what he wanted was the
best teaching of which we were
capable. Never was there any
pressure, any even slight evidence, of
an effort to control our work. Our
duty was to be professionally compe-
tent, professionally responsible,
professionally fair, and to present the
disciplines in which we worked in

^i^^y^i

Deadline crunch. Wembers ojthc N, ,
Profile staff.

resisting what thev felt to he unrea-
sonable, anachronistic policies on
the campus, especi.ilK m the resi-
dence halls.

I happened to be here m the , ^th
anniversarN' year, on a fleeting \ isit
after four years' absence in Turkev
and Western Europe and before
lea\ing for ten years in Virginia. I
remember that a group of students

I4WINIIR 1990

wanted to have a non-credit course
on Vietnam. We met twice a week
in the late afternoon for some weeks.
There were no assignments. The
students read as they pleased and, of
course, by that time the commenta-
tors and "talking heads" were at
their peak of commentaries and pon-
tifications. I stood in front of the

Agnes Scott has had three physical
education buildings in its history. Pic-
tured, the pool in the latest physical
activities center, the Woodruff Building.

the war in Southeast Asia. There
were several weeks in 1970 when it
was hard to keep the educational
program going. A mobile and restless
student generation tested the
patience of all. By the beginning ot
the '70s President Alston was worn-
out, and so was the campus.

A new president, Marvin Perry,
came in 1973. 1 was on the campus,
doing sabbatical supply teaching in
the mid '70s, and watched with
admiration the beginning of the
renovation and new building which,
continued in the presidency ot Ruth
Schmidt, have made this campus
beautiful and functional to a degree
It never had been. Now Agnes Scott
is rich in buildings, books, comput-
ers; rich in a highly qualified faculty,
rising enriiUment of good to superior
students, a lively, interesting place,
benefiting from the past but not
possessed by it.

In the 75th year the fee for tui-

Nelson, Bertie Bond, Mollie
Merrick, Dot Market, and Lillian
Newman.

On the hoard ot trustees for 1989-
90 we find a Smith, John E. II.
Wallace Alston Jr., Scott Candler
Jr., two Sibleys, a Gellerstedt, this
being "Young Larry," a great-grand
daughter ot Colonel George Wash-
ington Scott, Betty Noble Scott, and
on the emeritus board. Alec Gaines,
J. Davison Philips, another Smith,

Before graduation, students find them-
selves on the road to adulthood, not ahvays
easily and ci'cnh , but on their way.

group, but the students did the talk-
ing. The faculty were restive enough
to respond immediately when it was
suggested that we needed a chapter
of the American Association of Uni-
versity Professors. So far as 1 know,
there never had been one at Agnes
Scott. Students pressed very hard for
liberalization of the social rules, such
as male visitors in the dormitories,
beer and wine on the campus, re-
laxed hours for return to the campus
at night. It was not an easy time for
President Alston, a wise man, a
generous man, and a man of peace.

It was Wallace Alston's special
contribution to the College to work
to heal the divisions, to make of
what was a divided campus a cooper-
ating community. For the faculty
there was a more generous retire-
ment plan, there were sabbatical
leaves. Late in his presidency (1
wasn't here but 1 heard about it) he
faced with patience and courage the
divisions within the community over

Times and dress change , says Dean Sims ,
but Agnes Scott students remain "above
average" intellectually .

tion, room and board was $2,125, for
the year (not for the month), now it
is $13,685. Among the faculty and
administrative staff on the list for
that year you will find some familar
names of people who are still here
Miriam Drucker, John Tumblin,
Sara Ripy, Eloise Herbert, Kay
Manuel, Thomas Hogan, Jack

this is Hal, tather ot John, and Diana
Dyer Wilson. Twenty-five years ago,
there was Hal Smith, chairman of
the board, Alex Gaines, vice chair-
man, G. Scott Candler Sr., John A.
Sibley (father ot Horace), L.L.
Gellerstedt Sr., Wallace Alston St.,
Diana Dyer Wilson, J. Davison
Philips.

Of the several ages of Agnes
Scott College which 1 have seen,
and of which 1 have been a very
small part, there are the similarities:
a highly qualified faculty, dedicated
to good teaching and scholarship,
students above average, active, con-
cerned about their responsibilities as
citizens, growing to full adulthood,
not always easily and evenly, but on
their way.

And from top to bottom, a com-
mitment to qualify in all aspects of
life at Agnes Scott. Other times
other manners. But the essentials
remain the same.

AGNES SCOTT AAAGAZINE 1 5 I

KEEPING -THE -PROMISE

Agnes Scott was on display for much ot the past year, as the College celehrated its 1 00th hirthday.
The most lengthy and visible vestige of the celebration was the College's exhibit at the Atlanta
Historical Society, which ran from December 1988 to May 1989. There, a wider audience ce)uld
take a glimpse at the fledgling girls' schotil that grew into prominence and became Agnes Scott
College. For visitors familiar with the campus, real brick walkways and columns lent a ta-

clippings and mementos
and its eraduates and

miliar touch. Photographs,
documented the College
provided a capsule ot life
the South throughout the
academics, strict dress
just plain-old-fun were

in Atlanta, Decatur and
century. Rigorous
and behavioral codes, and
chronicled in the ex-

hibit as well. The still-traditional aspects ot College life such as Inx'estiture, Black Cat and the
Honor Code Parchment graced the exhibit along with such tormer traditions as the much-
awaited annual visit oi New York's Metropolitan Opera, when students dressed in their finest
and "went to town," and the Hopkins' jewel, given each year to the senior "who most nearly
embodied the ideals of Miss Nanette Hopkins," former dean of students. But mostly, the
exhibit celebrated Agnes Scott women as students and as graduates. Their tradition of missionary
and volunteer ser\'ice, their excellence in the professions, from psychiatry and movie-making
to writing, law and theater, were displayed for all to see. If time or distance prohibited
you from seeing the Atlanta Historical Society exhibit, turn the page for your personal tour.

AGNES scon MAGAZIIME 1 7

tudent life consisted
of more than academ-
ics, as the objects on
this page exemplify.
Lively dinnertime
conversation, fre-
quent and festive trips
to nearby Atlanta to
indulge in the arts,
and the pursuit of a
fit body kept Agnes
Scott students busy in their free time. Many
students made their theatre debut in Blackfri-
ars productions or pursued their editorial

inclinations

by working

on the Aurora,

Silhouette and Agonistic,

the

student maga-

zine, yearbook and newspaper, respectively, i

Jhn Flint

4

Fa/lint; /earns.

(/i.lS,S3J,N.S(i)

Hh

Tills Otto F/ath

served under the

^1

sculpture commemo-

Collefie' s first

^V

rates 12 alumnae ic/it

four presidents.

F

ivere amon^ the 122

He ran^:, this hell

M

Atlanta art patrons

to call students

ft

who perished in a

to dinner until

m'

1 '^6 1 plane crash at

the '40s. .

t\

k

Paris'Orh Field. It is
named ftn the mytho-
logical figure leho fell
into the sea and
drowned after fly mo
too close to the sun.

WINTER 1990

These mannequins
stood at the entrance
to the exhibit. Pic-
tured are bachelor's
and doctoral gowns .
The cap and gown
shown on the left
mannequin belonged
toDeanNannette
Hopkins . To the center
is Dr. Frances Clark
Calder's('5l)faculty
gown, its adornments
signifying doctoral
status.

Remnants of
another era' s school
pride. Agnes Scott
Institute lapel pins.

A Dressingupand
"going to tou'n." An
Agnes Scott student
may have carried this
evemngbag to the
annual visit of N ew
York's Metropolitan
Opera, once the most-
aivaited event of the
winter season .

T Agnes Scott has
had a physical educa-
tion program since its
infancy , as this field
hockey stick attests.

According to oral
recollections , Dr.
McCain ivore this
pith helmet as campus
air-raid warden
during 'World War U.

A Early on , adminis-
trators saw the con-
nection between a
healthy body and an
inquisitive mind.
Students regularly
donned the athletic
attire of their day in
their quest to keep fit.

A classroom
model of the solar
system. Close interac-
tion between Agnes
Scott students and
faculty has provided
unique opportunities
for li'omen to excel
in the sciences .

M The ChafingDish asking chem not to

Club, 1902. College send sweets to their

administrators some- daughters .
times wrote to parents ,

Agnes Scott's
GleeClubhas
performed m many
places throughout
Europe. Members
brought this Swiss
cowbell home from
one of their tours .

Strong intellec-
tual life has
been the hall-
mark of an
Agnes Scott
education.
Frequent visi-
tor Robert
Frost once told
an audience of
students,
"Choose your associations from those minds
stimulating and responsive to yours and earn
your place among them." Many Agnes Scott
alumnae, distinguishing themselves as au-
thors, educators, volunteers, lawyers and other
professionals, have taken those words to heart.

^ This microscope
belonged to biology
professor Mary Stuart

MacDougall(l9l9-
1952).

(iShM r'>->r~

HENRY Hm^ '"'''^

">LT ^^JD COMPANY

M A special friend
of the College , poet
Robert Frost visited
Agnes Scott twenty
times. The auto-
graphed book IS part
of Agnes Scott's Frost
collection, one of the
largest in the country .

"^^fw-^^^m,

AGNES scon MAGAZINE 2 1

'2.jmLy^

v/

gnes Scott's
earliest gradu-
ates pioneered
in fields their
mothers never
dreamed of.
That remains
true as oppor-
tunities con-
tinue to unfold
for women
today. For present-day students, some of the
College's traditions of excellence, such as the
Hopkins jewel - given to the student who most
embodied the ideals of beloved Dean Nannette
Hopkins -are gone. Other traditions -the
Global Awareness Program, for example - are
helping women find new ways to excel.

T/ic'^)L'ginning()/
a lifetime of opportu-
nities. Graduates of
this Decattir college
have vuide an impact
ill their ccmtmunities
aroimd the world.

^ A statue' /rom
Burkina Faso given to
Decatur Mayor Mike
Mt'arSiJKringai'i.sit.
Agnes Scott joins
Decatur 111 Its sister-
cit\ relationship with
the capital of this
A/rican lohiUiv.

4 A glass retort and
stand used in distdla-
tion. Current equip-
ment and instruction
are a mainstay ofsci'
entific study at ASC.

Dean Hopkins'
footstool, on which
many classes knelt
for Investiture and
Commencement.

22 WIMTFP 1000

A mannequin
stands in a replica of
Agnes Scott's first
library , housed in

A Hopkins jewel,
awarded 1929-1954.

President Frank
Henry Gaines ' office .
At night students
would slip down the

stairs to use the books
The stained glass
windoiv was taken
from the Hub.

4 A student hand-
book. Many parents
feared that educating
their daughters made
them iinmarriageable ,
but students strin-
gently followed rules
of good behavior.

This drummer hails
from Zaire , one of the
many countries m
which Agnes Scott
graduates have served
as missionaries or
nurses . The spiritual
life of the College has
inspired many women
to pursue a religious
vocation.

AGr-JES scon magazine 23

24 WIN IF P 100(1

%

AS^GOOD TIMES SEEM TO, THE YEAR
PASSED TCX) FAST. AgNES ScOTT'S
"""RLONG BIRTHDAY PARTY CULMI-
ED LAST FALL WITH "ThE PaRTY

OF THE Century" and a weekend

FULL OF FESTIVITIES.

AGI'-JES SCOTT MAGAZII IE 25 I

In between was Arts Synergy,
along with the values sympo-
sium, lecturers, distinguished

GUESTS, EXHIBITS AND PARTIES. AnD
SOMEHOW, THROUGHOUT IT ALL, THE
ENTIRE CAMPUS MANAGED TO KEEP
UP WITH REGULAR TASKS AND
EVENTS. No SMALL FEAT.

A FEW GLITCHES SOME MINOR,
SOME MAJOR OCCURRED. A WINDY
DAY ON THE OPENING WEEKEND SENT
VOLUNTEERS SCURRYING TO SETTLE
TABLECLOTHES BEFORE LUNCH ON
THE QUADRANGLE. It RAINED AlUM-

NAE Weekend and then again a

FEW "weeks later AT COMMENCE-
MENT. And Hurricane Hugo,
which undoubtedly kept many
South and North Carolina
alumnae from attending the
closing celebratory weekend,

ALSO PREVENTED SPEAKER MaYA

Angelou and Maurice .*'"'^ -^""^
Zodiacs lead singer 1
Williams from appearl

PEOPLE WERE DETERMINED W i.^vi.
A GOOD TIME AND DID.

No ONE PERSON \
INVOLVED WITH THE

TIES AS Carolyn Wynens, the

DIRECTOR OF THE CENTENNIAL CELE-
BRATION. Last spring, before the
celebration's official end, her
co-workers named her one of

THREE employees OF THE YEAR, NO
DOUBT IN RECOGNITION OF HER
HARD WORK AND SPECIAL TOUCH
THROUGHOUT THE YEAR. FOLLOW-
ING, Ms. Wynens muses on her

WHIRLWIND YEAR.

Pan of Arts Syner^ ueek, this whimsical
sculpture by Mary jane Hasek became a
campus favorite.

'IT WAS LIKE THE FOURTH OF JULY
ANDCHRISTMASROLLEDINTOONE.
THERE WAS AN EXPLOSION OF
SPIRIT ANDPRIDE,ANDISENSEDA
FEELING OF COMMUNITY THAT I
HAVEN'T FELT FOR A LONG TIME.
MY ONLY REGRET IS THAT EVERY
ALUMNA COULDN'T EXPERIENCE IT
FIRSTHAND." ANNE REGISTER
JONES '46

What's a celebration ivnhout fireworks?

I 26 vvirjiTR iQoo

Descendents of Agi\es Irvine Scott and Col-
lege officials went w Alexandria. Pa., to pay
homa;y to the College's namesake.

The uvrldpremiere of "Echoes T/irounfi Time"
featured Atlanta-area musiciam and Agiies
Scott music faculty .

Elegant ample Nancy Blake '82 andjonathan
Hibhen at the tea dance.

The closing weekend of the Centennial Cele-
bration coincided with Alumnae Leadership
Conference and Investiture as did the i^penint;
iveekend a year earlier.

HAVE SO MANY MEMORIES AND
PICTURES OF VARIOUS MOMENTS
DURING THE CENTENNIAL YEAR
it's REALLY TOUGH TO PIN DOWN
THE MOST MEANINGFU^R MEMO-
RABLE. I CERTAINI^^^^pAY THERE
WAS ONE PERSOnT^^H ENJOYED
^ ABOVE ALL, BECAUSE THERE WERE
MUCH TO ME,
i AND ENABLED MEHTO GET THE JOB
'\''dONE, in EITHER CONCRET E WAYS,
ff- OR' Y THE PSYC^^^H^ BOOST

-/'^HEY^CS^Vi ME L. w...

' \ND ENTHUSIASM.

JnE of the BEST ASPECTS OF THE
CELEBRATION WAS THE INVOLVEMENT
OF SO MANY PEOPLE THROUGH COM-
MITTEE AND VOLUNTEER ASSIGN-
MENTS. Committees of adminis-
trators, FACULTY, students, AND
ALUMNAE CAME TOGETHER TO CRE-

ATE SOMETHING

AN EXCHANGE

OF IDEAS, A CAMARADERIE THAT
WAS WONDERFUL TO WATCH.

When I attempted to describe

TO A FRIEND MY DISJOINTED FEELINGS
A FEW WEEKS AFTER THE CLOSING
WEEKEND, SHE NAMED MY STATE
"postpartum CELEBRATION." DE-
SPITE THE TREMENDOUS FEELING OF
RELIEF THAT WE GOT THROUGH ALL
THOSE MAJOR EVENTS, AND PRIDE IN
THE OVERALL SUCCESS OF THE CELE-
BRATION, I MISS THE Celebration
Steering Committee members, the

group of six staff and FACULTY

and one student, who met regu-
larly FOR nearly two YEARS TO
plan, discuss and report OUR

problems and progress. No
matter how uneasy we sometimes

FELT about being READY FOR THE
NEXT MAJOR EVENT, EXCITEMENT AND

AGNES SCOTT MAGAZIME 27

PROMISE HUNG IN THE AIR AT THESE
COUNTLESS MEETINGS. It'S BOTH
AMAZING AND GRATIFYING TO THINK
ABOUT WHERE WE STA.

Personally, the Centennial
Celebration was the opportu-
nity TO GET TO KNOW MORE MEM-
BERS OF THE Agnes Scott family, i
Because of the need for volun-
teers, I MADE CONTACT WITH MORE
STUDENTS, ALUMNAE, FACULTY, AND,-
STAFF than I WOULD HA\
WISE, AND BECAME FRIENI5HvITH'
MANY OF THEM. WhAT COULD HAVE
BEEN A BAPTISM BY FIRE PROVED TO
BE A SPECIAL OPPORTUNITY; ONE OF
THOSE YOU THINK MIG HT HAVj BEEN
PREORDAINED. ThA
LONG-TERM GIFT THE ^^e.l

left to me.

Some images I'll remember:
The obvious excitement as we
kicked off the opening weekend
OF THE Centennial Celebration

WITH new banners FLYING, A BAG-
PIPER LEADING THE CONVOCATION
procession, AND THE CROWD SPILL-
ING OUT OF PrESSER for A PICNIC ON

THE Quad under the giant tent

so MANY HAPPY ALUMNAE AND A
FESTIVE SPIRIT ABOUT US ALL ... .

The BEAUTY AND ELEGANCE OF
THE PARTY AT THE HiGH MuSEUM

OF Art in October, given in

CONNECTION WITH THE MONET
EXHIBIT. . . .

The pride of alumnae at the
December opening of the ASC
exhibit at the atlanta histori-
CAL Society, MacElreath Hall

DECORATED IN ALL ITS HOLIDAY

Agnes Scon studenis performed and sang all
parts for Thea Musgrave's "Echoes T/iroug/i
Time."tfit; nucleus of the Arts S-^ners^ festival.

These pretty banners decorated the CLimpus
throughout the year and alerted visitors to t/u
College's special celebration.

This )?i()t/iL')-fij^i(iv puppet sculpture /\\ Elaine
Williams '77 filled the Dana Building's court-
yard idnin.^; Arts Synergy week.

28 wir-JTER I '-'00

Distinguished Centennial Leetiirer Rusalynn
Carter aime to ainifiHS many times tbrtni;^h-
out the year

Although Hurrieane Hugo forced leader
Maurice Williams to be a no-shoie, revelers
twisted the night away to music by the Zodiac^'

The closing weekend lent es-
pecially POIGNANT MEMORIES OF
THE WALK TO DeCATUR PRESBYTE-
RIAN Church on Sunday morn-
ing AND THE special SIGHT OF A
LONG ROW OF STUDENTS, PARENTS,
ALUMNAE, FACULTY AND STAFF
MEMBERS ALL DRESSED UP AND ON
THEIR WAY TO WORSHIP. . . .

The OLD-FASHIONED DINNER ON
THE GROUND AFTER THE SERVICE
THE LOVELY FRONT LAWN SET UP FOR
THE PICNIC, AND THE EXCITEMENT
r,vT CO v/Axiy FACES AS THEY SAW THE

|cake, a replica of
"Main.". . .

During "The Party OF THE Cen-

Xf r^^SMBER walking INTO

IE Woodruff
5i(i>^ Alrai^BCENTER. The

'BY THE TIME I FINISHED HELPING
WITH THE PLANNING AND IMPLE-
MENTATION OF THE CENTENNIAL
CELEBRATION, AND THEN ATTEND-
ING ALMOST ALL OF THE YEAR'S
EVENTS, I FELT ABOUT THE SAME
AGE AS THE COLLEGE. BUT WASN'T
IT A SPLENDID, STAR-SPANGLED
TIME!" BERTIE BOND '53

.^ ' AGES' FILLED THE
jf' \ LARGE NUMBER O

L \ bleacmS. I

Nt'U' board chair Betfx Henderson Camenm
'43 iciin (I jm:e at the tea dance jor her 20-S-
fLivored outjit.

AGES "filled THE GYM ROOR AND A
LARGE ^UMBER OF^OPLE SAT IN THE

,._. ^USED ON THE

MOTHER OF A SENIOR. ShE WAS
PERCHED ON THE EDGE OF BLEACHER'S
BOTTOM ROW, PULLING ON THE ASC
SOCKS she'd BEEN GIVEN AT THE
DOOR, AND KEEPING HER EYES ON THE
DANCERS. Her PARTNER STOOD A
FEW FEET AWAY WITH HIS HAND OUT-
STRETCHED, AS ANXIOUS AS SHE TO
GET ON THE DANCE FLOOR. ThE

smile on her face said she felt 18
again! It was the best possible
compliment to those of us who
worked on the weekend!
Carolyn Wynens

AGNES scon MAGAZIIlt 29 I

Lawn tennis was the norm

when these yoling women played the game

AT Agnes Scott, circa 1910.

a stunning legacy ^

HOW DIFFERENT THE LIVES OF THOUSANDS OF WOMEN MIGHT HAV

In 1889, the community of Decatur claimed about 1,000
citizens clustered in the gently sloped woiids six miles east ot
Atlanta. That same year, 36-year'old Frank Henry Gaines
became pastor of Decatur Presbyterian C^hurch. From his
earlier work in Virginia, the Rev. Gaines brought with him
a strong interest in educatiiin.

Once in Decatur, the Rev. Gaines saw the tieed tor a
private secondary school and broached the subject to several
church leaders. Within six weeks ot their tirst meeting in the
church manse on July 17, 1889, the Decatur Female Semi-

I 30 WINTER 1990

nary was chartered. Tlie school opened on September 24
with 60 day students, three boarding students and tour
teachers.

On a visit to Virginia, the Rc\-. Gaines hired 29-year-cild
Nannette Hopkins, a Hollins Institute graduate, as the first
principal. For the next year or two, the board ot trustees
talked of finding a man for this post, but the matter was soon
dropped. Miss Hcipkins remained at Agnes Scott until her
retirement 49 years later.

Near the end ot the tirst year, church elder Gol. George

Tennis remains popular
here, and is now played at
the intercollegiate level.

toimarrow

EEN WITHOUT THE VISIONARY GIFT OF AGNES SCOTT'S FOUNDERS

Washington Scott offered Dr. Gaines $40,000 for a school
building, saying, "The Lord has prospered me and I do not
wish it to harden my heart. ... I would like a permanent
home for our school." He requested that the institution be
named for his mother, Agnes Irvine Scott.

The next year the school flourished, doubling it's enroll-
ment to 138 students, of which 22 were hoarders. In 1890,
Agnes Scott published its first annual catalog, offering
elementary and secondary school instruction. The cata-
logue listedboardand tuition at $185 per year. Day students

paid $7.50, $10 or $12 a quarter, depending on their grade.

Meanwhile, Col. Scott became convinced after studying
school buildings on a trip north that $40,000 would not
provide the type of building he wanted for the Institute. By
the time Agnes Scott Hall opened, he had contributed
$1 12,250 for five acres of land and building costs. This was
the largest gift made to education in Georgia up to that time;
today it would equal nearly $2.1 million.

With electric lights, steam heat, hot and cold running
water and sanitary plumbing, the 1891 building expressed a

- ,'' AGNES scon MAGAZINE 3 1 I

A VIEW OF CAMPUS, CIRCA 1910-

1930. No ONE SEEMS TO REMEMBER THE

TWO BUIiniNGS IN THE REAR LEFT.

great visiim ot the school's future . It had a powerful effect on
Presbyterian and other churches throu).jhiKit Georgia, wrote
Dr. Gaines, who later resigned his pastorate to become
president cif the Institute.

When Agnes Scott began its third session in 1891, the
enrollment of 292 students included 98 boarders. Despite
strong enrollment, the Institute often operated at a deficit in
the early years. Dr Gaines frequently relied on Col. Scott and
other trustees for additional funds By 1 899 President Gaines
began Agnes Scott's first fund-raising drive, with a $ 1 00,000
goal, and ho worked hard to gain the support ot Presbyterian
Synods throughout the Southeast.

As new faculty with Ph.D.s were hired and college-level
wiirk expanded, the trustees separated the secondary school
to become Agnes Scott Academy (elementary grades had
been eliminated earlier). By 1906, the trustees had amended
the charter to call the school Agnes Scott College and to
grant its first bachelor of arts degree. In 1907, Agnes Scott
became the first college or university in Georgia accredited
by the Southern Association of Colleges and Universities.

The College's growth demanded expanded space and
facilities, among them the construction of its second perma-
nent building, Rebekah Scott Hall. Although Col. Scott
had died in 1903 after ser\'ing ten years as chairman ot the
board, the Scott family gave $20,000 from the Rebekah
Scott endowment fund for the building, built in 1905.

Still, the tledgluig school struggled. Enrollment wavered,
and even President Gaines conceded that Agnes Scott's
high standards were a harrier to attractitig and keeping
students. Many parents considered education a luxur\- tor
their daughters and seldom took it seriously. Students came
and withdrew continually; many lacked the commitment to
pursue their degree. Years later. Director of Alumnae Affairs
Ann Worthy Johnson '38 would note in her alumnae
quarterly column that nearly two-thirds ot the College's
early alumnae failed to matriculate until graduation.

In 1908, the General Education Board, established in
1902 by John D. Rockefeller, took an interest in Agiies
Scott. Over the years, this philantropic organization gave
away more than $324 millioii dollars, much of it to southern

32 WINTER 1990

A VIEW OF THE SOUTH SIDE OF WHAT

IS NOW THE Woodruff Quadrangle, part
OF THE Centennial renovation.

(2^3

education. In October 1908, the GEB's Dr. Wallace Buttrick
approached President Gaines with a $100,000 challenge
grant, provided the College raised another $250,000. The
trustees accepted the offer and its deadline of Dec. 31,1 909.

By November 1909 the fund-raising committee chaired
by tnjstee J. K. On- raised $140,000, including $50,000 from
board chair Samuel Inman for a residence hall and $25,000
from industrialist Andrew Carnegie for a library. But offi-
cials lacked the remaining $1 10,000.

College leaders decided to wage a two-week, whirlwind
campaign from November 17 to 30. All three area newspa-
pers gave daily accounts of the drive, and a large clock at
downtown's Five Points marked daily progress.

During the campaign the Alumnae Association took
over vacant space in what was later the Loew's Theater (fa-
mous for the premiere of Gone With the Wind) and served
lunch every day. Leaders from all denominations joined in
the fund-raising, and many prominent women canvassed
downtown office buildings for contributions. By November
28, they were $50,000 short of the goal.

The Atlanta Journal challenged the city to raise $50,000
in fifty hours, and the campaign became a city-wide cause.
One newspaper carried an open appeal for funds with a
subscription form that all Atlantans were encouraged to cut
out and send in. Nevertheless, on November 30, $30,000
remained to be raised. A mass rally was slated for 8 p.m., in
what was later called the Municipal Auditorium on Atlanta's
Courtland Street.

Amidst appeals by prominent Atlanta leaders, subscrip-
tions continued to come in until 10:55 p.m. Soon after,
lacking only $4,500, J.K. Orr excitedly announced that the
Georgia Railway and Electric Company just donanted $5,000
and "the crowd went wild," allowed Dr. Gaines later. Among
the next morning's Constitution headlines was this one:
"Agnes Scott Clinches Million Dollar Endowment."

It was little wonder the College inspired such pride in
Atlantans. Its high standards distinguished it among South-
em institutions, so much so that in 1913 it was the only
college in the South approved by the U.S. Bureau of Educa-
tion. Its stringent standards required that all faculty be

AGNES scon MAGAZINE 33 I '

May Day, an Agnes

Scott tradition since 1903, was

discontinued in 1960.

memhers of one of the protestant evangelical churches, and
that no teacher was hired without a personal interview with
the president.

Some $20,000 of General Education Board moriey from
a later challenge grant funded the construction ot the Anna
I. Young Alumnae House, huilt a year after her death in
1920. Agnes Scott's alumnae house was the second such
huilding in the U.S., and the first in the South; it soon
hecame the center of social life for the College.

The campaign's success came on the heels ot a campus
typhoid epidemic. By November 8 there were 22 diagnosed
cases and iour suspected. Some parents called their daugh-
ters home, but to their credit. Dr. Gaines and Miss Hopkins
sent daily bulletins to parents with the unflinching truth.
And although the count rose to 30 cases, all the students
recovered. A broken sewer had contaminated the drinking
water, requiring repairs ot more than $1 1,000.

Dr. Gaines died in 1923, leaving a stunning legacy. "From
a rented house in 1889, the College had grown to twenty
acres of land and twenty-one buildings," wrote Edward

McNair in Lest Wc Forget. There were 435 students and 54
teachers and officers. The assets had grown from pledges ot
$5,000 to more than $1.5 million. After Dr. Gaines' death,
the trustees elected Dr. James Ross McCain as president. Dr.
McCain had spent the last seven years at Agnes Scott, first
as registrar and professor ot Bible, then as vice president in
charge of fund-raising. By 1920 he had been elected a trustee
and charged with hiring taculrs' and dealing with academic
matters as Dr. Gaines' health declined.

"No thoughtful person would ever say that Dr. McCain
was a scholar," wrote UV. McNair. Yet, he is commonlv
considered Agnes Scott's tirst "education president." He
consistently championed high academic standards, and
during his tenure the school installed its chapter ot Phi Beta
Kappa, becoming the ninth women's college in the nation
to do so. Dr. McCain "remarkably de\-eloped Agties Scott,
lifting it into the front rank ot colleges tc^ir women in
America," said hissuccessorWallace M.Alston. Dr. McQiin
was a founding member ot the Uni\-ersir\' Center, a consor-
tium of Atlanta-area institutions ot higher education,

34 WINTER 1990

Despite May Day's demise,
Agnes Scott students still find

WAYS to enjoy the SPRING.

including the University of Georgia.

War bond sales, tin can recycling, knitting, air raid drills,
and blackout preparations drew Agnes Scott students into
the war effort in 1942. The war intruded in more personal
ways, as well. One student's father was taken prisoner on
Bataan; others lost brothers and fathers in the fighting.
Times were austere: food was rationed and there was no
gasoline.

The January 1942 Alumnae Quarterly noted that Mam
Tower had been prepared as a lookout in case of an air raid
alarm. "In the event of an air raid," the periodical advised,
"students would find themselves very safe on the first or
basement floors of Buttrick, Presser cu the library since these
buildings are made with floors of steel-re intorced concrete."

Once the war ended, Dr. McCain's retirement was ap-
proaching, and the board selected Wallace Alston to suc-
ceed him. Dr. McCain's fund-raising work during his last
years enabled the completion of a new infirmary and a new
dining hall, as well as the Bradley Observatory, a science
hall, a home for the incoming president, and the new arched

entrance to campus. Another of Dr. McCain's last acts was
to lift the campus ban on smoking, conceding the basement
of the Huh to those who wished to puff.

A much-respected Presbyterian minister before coming
to Agnes Scott, Dr. Alston was called the minister-presi-
dent. And, like a pastor overseeing his flock, he was, said
former colleague C. Benton Kline Jr., "in intimate touch
with every aspect of [the College's] being." Alumnae fondly
remember Dr. Alston's habit of memorizing the names of
each first-year student before they arrived at school. The
College admitted and graduated its first black students
during his tenure as well.

Dr. Alston created Agnes Scott's first budget. Although
his predecessors handled funds frugally, they used no formal
budgeting process. He also signed an agreement with Emory
University that nullified a prior agreement between the two
institutions that effectively prevented Emory from admit-
ting women. The new agreement in 1951 allowed Emory to
admit women and ended the time when Agnes Scott and
Spelman College were the only places in the Atlanta area

AGNES scon AAAGAZINE 35

From 1936 until the 1974-77

RENOVATION, THE FIRST ROOR OF McCaIN

Library looked like this.

where a young wdinan could attend college and live at
home. This shifted Agnes Scott toward an increasingly resi-
dential college, with more of its students coming from
outside Atlanta. In 1951-52, Agnes Scott had 473 students,
317 residents and 156 day students. By 1961, Scott's 650
students included only 58 day students.

Housing quickly became a problem. In 1951, there were
still only three dormitories. Main, Rebekah and Inman, and
Slime six cottages used. Hopkins Hall was completed by
September 1953.

The next year Dr. Alston appointed a long-range plan-
ning committee for the College, charging them with devel-
oping a plan that would culminate in the observance of the
College's 75th anniversary. Although some plans would
later change, by 1964 this eflort would add more than $12
million in assets.

Dr. Alston's tenure coincided with the Civil Rights
Movement and was ending as the Women's Rights Move-
ment was coming into vogue. Like their counter^-^arts na-
tionally, Agnes Scott women took another look at the status

quo. From 1969 to 1970 the Special Commission on Rules
and Regulations, or SCRAP, as it was known, sought to
review and alter outdated social requirements. TTie end
result. Dean ot Students Roberta K. Jones told the board as
she presented the committee's suggestions, was "to achieve
a code of behavior for students that maintains the standards
of the College and, at the same time, gi\es students a sense
ot freedom with responsibility."

Six years later, the administration allowed men to visit
students in their rooms, but only on Sundav afternoons and
only with escort to and from the room.

When Marvin Banks Perr\' Jr. became president m 1^73
declining college enrollments had become a national prob-
lem, liberal arts curriculums were under tire and increasing
numbers ot single-sex schools were mak ing the move toward
co-education.

Under his leadership, the College added a dual-degree
program in engineering with Georgia Tech to its curriculum
and began the Return to College Program tor non-tradi-
tional age students. He wrote ot the first group in 1974,

36 WINTER 1990

The first roor still has study

areas, but the renovation provided

for increased stack space.

"Most have children and are juggling hahysitters and car
pools in order to return to college. Halt ot them are receiving
financial aid from Agnes Scott in the form of work scholar-
ship or tuition grants. . . . Although most were apprehensive
about 'returning to college,' all have done well so far."

That same year the board of trustees amended its charter
to broaden membership. Previously three-quarters of the
board had to be members of the Presbyterian Church in the
United States, the other fourth needed to be "members of
some evangelic church and sympathetic with the funda-
mentals of the Christian religion." The new articles of incor-
poration provided that two-thirds of the board be Presbyte-
rian with the remaining third "in sympathy and accord with
the objectives of the College," non-Christians and non-
churched alike.

"Through the encouragement of women administrators
during [Dr. Perry's] presidency," a columnist noted in the
alumnae magazine in 1982, "he provided a time of transition
toward the ascendency of a woman whose time has come."

That woman, Ruth A. Schmidt, became the fifth and

present president of Agnes Scott. Her tenure has seen the
formation of the Global Awareness Program, and the begin-
ning of a successful capital campaign to raise $35 million for
the College's physical plant and academic program. Under
her guidance, residence halls and other buildings have been
renovated and refurbished, many long overdue. A new gym
was built and the old one was made into a new student center
that offers facilities conducive to meditation or physical
exertion.

Dr. Schmidt will be the president to prepare the College
tor the coming century, much like Dr. Gaines and George
Washington Scott did one-hundred years before. Unlike her
predecessors, Dr. Schmidt provides a female role model tor
undergraduate women and alumnae alike to emulate.

Lynn Donham is editor ot Agnes Scott Magazine.

AGNES SCOTT MAGAZINE 37 I

FINALE

Centennial time
capsule offers keys
to ASC's past

It the ancient Egyptians had
left a key fur deciphering
hieroglyphics, archaeologists
might have had a much easier
time unlocking the secrets of
the past. Fortunately tor those
who come after us, the twen-
tieth century has brought
forth the invention of the
time capsule, anil intii these
tiny vessels go forth messages
to the future.

The Centennial Celebra-
tion Steering Committee has
decided that putting some
current Agnes Scott history'
into a time capsule, to he
exhumed in perhaps fifty or
( >ne hundred years, would be a
fitting way to end the Cele-
bration. "\'ou should use an
occasion like the C'entennial
to not only look backwards
but tiirward, as well," says As-
sistant Professor of Theatre
Becky Prophet, who co-chairs
the committee.

Committee members ha\e
yet to narrow down which
objects will go into their box,
but Dr. Prophet says she has
an "active taith that these will
be objects that provide
answers, rather than ques-
tions, to future generations."

The "time capsule" is
actually a small (12 x 12 x 10
inches) box that will be
buried somewhere on campus.
CAimmittee members discov-
ereil during llieir research thai
another time capsule ma\ be
buried somewhere ne.ir Main.
Both Milton Scott, grand-
son of founder George
Washington Scott, and
Caroline McKinney Clarke
77 have vague recollections

of such a ceremony when
they were children, perhaps
at the College's twenty-fifth
anniversary. No one has been
able to locate the object.

That can be a problem,
.says sociologist Albert
Bergesen. "My own n lugh
estimate is that several
thousand time capsules are
ceremoniously squirreled
away and forgc^tten for every-
one that successfully conveys
its cargo into the hands of a
future generation," he wrote
in The Atlantic Monthly.

Historians credit tonner
Oglethorpe Uni\'ersity
president Dr. Thomwell
Jacobs with inventing the
time capsule concept. In
l*^^?, discouraged by the lack
of accurate information
rcgirding ancient ci\ ill i

far into the future as the first
recorded date in history was
in the past.

Westinghouse public
relations people coined the
phrase time capsule in 1938
when the company decided
ti 1 send what they termed
their "800-pound letter to the
future." Perhaps the most
famous, thciusands viewed the
seven-and-a-half toot long,
six-inch diameter torpedo-
shaped container at the 1939
World's Fair in New York
before it descended into its
(almost final) resting place.

Major libraries throughout
the world hold a book of
record from the company
detailing the contents of the
capsule and explaining how
to calculate the opening date
(( IM \ m K the use of the

111 'lis, he c'lulMrkcvl . Ml .111 .1111
liitious three-year project to
scientifically preser\e "e\er\-
salient feature of i^resent dav
civilization tor the future,"
according to Oglethoq^e liter-
ature. He finished his 2,000-
cubic toot tomb of know -
ledge, called the Crvpt of
(.;i\'ili:ation, in P)40. Be-
neath the university's Phoebe
Hearst Hall, il is to be opened
May 28, 811 i A. P. A date he
calculated in 19K8 as being as

\\ isll.

Mohammcikm ,iiid Shinto
calendars.

Just in c.ise future genera-
tions do not speak Hnglish, a
key w,is included to "tr.mslate
our tongtie and to pronounce
It 1938 style as well," an-
nounced Westinghouse exe-
cutive n.nid S. ^'oungholm
,it the cipsule's interment.

If only the ancient
Kgyptians had been that
considerate.

''Miss Daisy's" Uhry
among spnnq
lecturers set ror ASC

Lots of events dot the spring
semester calendar. Playwrights
Sandra Deer ("So Long on
Lonely Street") and Alfred
Uhr\' ("Driving Ms. Daisy")
will be in residence. Ms. Deer
will be a visiting lecturer in
the spring and Mr. Uhry will
participate in the Writers'
Festival from April 26-27, as
will writer Josephine Jacobson.

Swarthmore College's Dr. J.
Barrie Shepherd will be the
Founder's Day speaker on
Wednesday, Feb. 2 1 , in con-
junction with the Community-
Focus on Faith and Learning
Committee. He delivered the
sermon during Alumnae
Weekend's worship sersice.

Veteran reporter-commen-
tator Llaniel Schorr, formerly
of CBS, now- a senior news
analyst tor National Public
Radio, IS this year's com-
mencement speaker on May
19. The baccalaureate speaker
Is the Re\-. Joan Salmon-
(. ',iiiipbell, i-noderator of the
Presbyterian Church US.A.

Other noteworthy exents:
.\n ongoing French Music

ti\-.il; perfomiance arts
series appearances by The
Negro Ensemble Companv on
Feb. 22, the Borodin Trio on
March 26 and the Blackfriars
presentaticin of Sisiov Wai-y
Igiumus Explains It All For You
March 29-30 and .April 5-7.
For further infomiation about
the College's performance
arts series call i71-("i4iO. For
infoni-i.uion about other
c\ ei-its coiitact .\giies Scott's
public relations office at 371-
02^4.

138 WINTER 1990

ORDER YOUR CENTENNIAL
KEEPSAKE BOOK NO

^VA-

ipio @ $2^)5 (plus $ VSO shippini; ;inJ

iiil;) ti

Agnes Scott's first hundred bimk will he ,i hiL;h-L|uahty mark, dust jacket and ;in em-
years o\'ertlow with memories liardhack, o\er 100 pages hossed linen cover. The hook
ot people, places and tradi- lung, with a rihhon hook- is written hy .Archu'ist Lee
turns. Asthetmalcommemo- I I

ration ot our Centennial, a
pictorial histiir^' ot the College
will he issued next spring.
This heautitul hook will cap-
ture the experiences ot the
students and faculty, as well as
include ph^itographs, anec-
dotes, legends and little-
known facts. Puhlished hy

Susan Hunter Puhlishing > 1

Company of Atlanta, the TAKE ADVANTAGE OF PRE-PUBLICATION PRICE

Sayrs '69 and Dr. Christine
Co::ens, English professor
and director ot Agnes Scott's
Writing Workshop. Until
Fehruary 22, 1990, you can
order this special hook tor
$29.95 pkis $3.50 shipping
and h.indlmg. The regular
price will he $39.95 plus ship-
ping and handling. To order,
make checks payahle to Ag-
nes Scott College and send
to Centennial Book, Agnes
Scott College, Decatur,
Georgia 30030.

Nonprofit Organization
U.S. Postage J
PAID 1

Decatur, GA 30030
Pennit No. 469

The German Club remains
a part of student life at ASC.
What other vestiges of the
College's early years still

FOR REFERENCE

Do Not Take From This Room

wmift '