M'=CAIIK1 LBBRAHY Mi) EI Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2011 with funding from LYRASIS IVIembers and Sloan Foundation http://www.archive.org/details/agnesscottalumna6667agne vvomeri :: lO \3il-t.iiT. 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 a 6 6 Q d d 9 110 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\- 9 9 6 9 o o 9 112 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 9 9 9 9 9 9 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 9 9 114 <;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 C5 9 9 9 9 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, Crity 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 cw 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 i"-" Incx^ :j^^xr"'] ^'^-'f ^^^^ ct/ic ' ^ojx^>^^C4ju ^' "^^ ^ . /,/ c7-+v':'''i: ^^'Ifrf. 'c;t^ ^'f. :. = . TtdJX . I . , ^ aOXyTt-^ CinX^L^^^ ^ / /a..a.n^- r ,'./f'. uU"^' ' y a ucvrites 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 ^ ^ j'M l^^l^ ^-^^ WjMmM ^^5^ ^eiw| rjMMTwV'j^W /^ Jv-., \v \ 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(' 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 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 IPK m ^^^J ;sp f J ' H' i" K ~ -< g B s r" ^' n m 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 "X tfURTU ElUJm ^ ^^ 9r rm X m m m m plac ^" CO "0 ::^ . 1 ^ ? C\ ^ 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 sh.lll b e impc iSCv .1." Tl lat was trulv \ enlui esome m ISS^^ All m.ill: ,1 V .lescnj n college and conce] M. Tv] l.n some school s choose to go nonde script. thinking that being undiffi .Mcnt Kited 1 will I Hit them in ,i better market cotidition, so they can be anything aiid ever\rhing to each and to all. Thev end being "not one 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 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 "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 whwn 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 culturt 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-cit 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,hrk ,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 Dhnrc 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 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 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.'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 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. 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 loper,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 becl> 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 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 '