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Full text of "Alumni Life - Forum, 1962-1971"

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V 



MONTCLAIR STATE COLLEGE 

SPRING 1962 



/4 ^%ew*d<iu^ 'pC'Ut Stefr 



In evaluating the Alumni Life newspaper, members of the Alumni 
Executive Committee expressed a desire to see published a magazine of a 
more serious import. The newspaper is an excellent vehicle to disseminate 
news, personals, and announcements. However, there was strong feeling 
that a professional college with the stature of Montclair State should have 
a platform from which to speak on the controversial problems of education. 

Since 1908, this college has turned out highly competent and respected 
professional educators. Surely, a college that has garnered such respect and 
honors in teaching must have something constructive to add to the nation- 
wide debate on the direction and goals of education. 

There is, indeed, a restlessness, a dissatisfaction, and an impatience 
with the current state of education. The crisis has been with us for many 
years, but the problems are not lessening in their intensity, but are deepen- 
ing. Every Board of Education member, administrator, and teacher is aware 
of the strain and stress. In the profession, there is frustration, apathy, and a 
groping for answers. 

We do not pretend to have the answers, but the alumni do have years 
of experience, and the College has been more right than wrong in its phil- 
osophy of education. Therefore, the Alumni and the College feel that through 
this literary college forum that some wisdom and notable insights will be in- 
troduced into the maelstrom of controversy and recriminations. 

The editors invite the Alumni to submit articles to this magazine based 
upon the practice of classroom experience. 



CONTENTS 

Page 

Direction of Growth 1 

Reading Explosion Hits N. J. Schools 2 

Revival of Gymnastics 4 

Curricular Changes 5 

The Intensive Way of Teaching Composition 7 

The Best Just Good Enough 9 

Fine Arts: Its Growth and Development 10 

Soviet Education 12 

Developments in the Science Curriculum 14 

Speech and Hearing Center Offers Community Wide Services 16 

Preparing Students for College in the Social Studies 18 

Meet Your Alumni Secretary 20 

Montclair Bows to No One 21 

1 

EDITORS 

Mr. Marvin Shiofmitz Editor-in-Chief 

Mr. Robert Swanson Advertising Manager 

Mrs. Helen Rendall Associate Editor 

Mr. Morris McGee Associate Editor 

Mr. Robert Hilton Chairman of the Publications Committee 

Mr. Charles Martens Photography Editor 

Printed by Progress Publishing Company, Progress Square, Caldwell, N. J. 




Construction of Grace Freeman Hall started this year 

THE DIRECTION OF GROWTH 

By 

DR. E. DeALTON PARTRIDGE, President 
Montciair State College 

vide for professional growth, intellectual stimula- 
tion and a congenial working relationship. It is one 
of the major responsibilities of the college adminis- 
tration to create and maintain this kind of climate. 
What are the elements that help create a favor- 
able climate'' They are varied, but certainly to be 
included are the following: 

1 . Student Body. Good faculty members prefer 
to work with eager, competent and serious 
minded students. Montciair is fortunate in 
this — traditionally and increasingly, Mont- 
ciair students have been of high quality. 

2. Academic Freedom. Competent faculty re- 
quire and expect a minimum of administra- 
tive interference in the teaching process. 

3. Communication. Good personal relation- 
ships in a college require ease of communi- 
cation between faculty, administration, and 
students. 

4. Fringe benefits in the form of pensions, sick 
leave, medical care, faculty grants and the 
like, have pulling power. 

5. The college community. Faculty members 
like to have a stimulating, pleasant commu- 
nity with good schools for their children. 

This is not an exhaustive list, but against these 
criteria Montciair stands up fairly well Because of 
financial support from private sources, Montciair 
State College is able to offer some special and un- 
usual benefits. These special perquisites will count 
heavily in the quality of staff in the future. 

Montciair is now in the big league To maintain 
a good batting average in this league will require 
increasing support from the Alumni and other 
groups. 



Watching colleges and universities these days, 
one is reminded of Stephen Leacock's character, 
who mounted his steed and drove off in all direc- 
tions at once. 

Caught in the hysteria of expanding college age 
population, most colleges are frantically seeking 
funds to expand the physical plant to partially ac- 
commodate the rush of feet that can now be heard 
pounding toward the college doors. 

As yet the bulge in high school population in 
New Jersey has not reached college age — but come 
1965, the press will be on. And, according to our 
experience to date, it will be a real press. 

For the incoming freshman class at Montciair 
State College next fall there were more than 2600 
applications for 625 places. Many of these were 
candidates who applied at more than one college 
and hence were not, in a sense, separate and solid 
applicants. However, each year for the past several 
years the quality of the applicants as measured by 
entrance tests and high school records has been 
improved. 

When the real rush is on and college expansion 
has progressed, there will be strong competition 
for competent faculty members. This competition 
is already evident in some fields. Faculty members 
will become more and more careful and critical in 
selecting positions from the opportunities available. 
This means that the college which has the most to 
offer in professional opportunity will be the one 
that attracts and holds outstanding faculty. 

New Jersey now has an excellent salary scale 
for state college faculty. This will help greatly in 
faculty recruitment. In addition to this, however, 
the college must maintain a climate which will pro- 



1 





READING EXPLOSION HITS N.J. SCHOOLS 

MSC Offers Expanded Program to Meet 

Acute Shortage of Teachers 

and Remedial Services 

By 
DR. LEONARD J. BUCHNER 

Associate Professor of Psychology 

Direcfor, The Montclair Reading Laborafory 

Montclair State College 

One of the most acute shortages in New Jersey offered eight courses (sixteen points) . In that year, 



today is that of Reading Teachers to fill the clinic, 
classroom, and consultative openings which are 
coming in from all over the State. The Placement 
Bureau at Montclair State College has over 50 un- 
filled requests each year for Reading Teachers. 
Professional journals carry more and more "adver- 
tisements" for qualified Reading Teachers. Many 
of the most important national research studies 
on mental health of school children, drop-out prob- 
lems, and competition for college placement have 
only increased the intensity of the shortage by in- 
cluding in their findings a positive need for more 
reading improvement services. The public media 
have added their voice to the concern over what 
Ivan can read that Johnny can't, to the extent that 
hardly a day goes by without some popular press 
or magazine raising the issue of the adequacy of 
our entire developmental sequence of reading in- 
struction. 

This prime educational problem in New Jersey 
has been reflected in the history of teacher-training 
courses at Montclair. In the early 1950's, the Col- 
lege offered an occasional class in reading on the 
graduate level. There was no planned program, and 
no surety that the courses would be systematically 
catalogued. In 1957, we began to offer one course 
(two points) regularly every term. In 1958, we 
offered three courses (six points). In 1960, we 
offered six courses (twelve points). In 1961, we 



we also offered the first new undergraduate course 
in reading. Beginning in the Fall of 1962, we will 
carry ten courses (twenty points) in the graduate 
school and three courses (nine points) in the un- 
dergraduate school. We will be employing six pro- 
fessors! 

It seems that the more reading courses we offer, 
the more teachers there are to take them. No read- 
ing course has ever been withdrawn since 1957 
because of limited registration, and this term, the 
Spring of 1962, a registration of sixty teachers 
forced us to split one class and employ an extra 
specialist. Up to this time, we have been preparing 
teachers to apply for a Certificate Endorsement in 
Reading, Grades 7-12, in accordance with existing 
State Department regulations. Now there is a strong 
move to create a Master's Degree in Reading to 
develop the leadership the State needs to direct 
and coordinate the local programs which are mush- 
rooming in so many school districts. 

Montclair, however, offers to the teachers and 
children of New Jersey more than just courses. We 
maintain a multi-phase program that, in 1961-62, 
will directly affect over 350 teachers taking formal 
course work, over 200 children taking remedial 
instruction in our clinic services, over 150 teachers 
in off-campus reading workshops, children in a 
County hospital facility where we are consultants, 



children in an optometric clinic where we coordi- 
nate perceptual training with reading readiness, and 
uncounted professional and lay observers who visit 
us for inspiration and information. In addition, 
MSC takes over 50 of its own college students in a 
speed and study laboratory and offers do-it-yourself 
programs to over 50 other college students who 
improve themselves at home with our materials. 
The Montclair Reading Laboratory owns several 
thousand dollars worth of its own instruments and 
workbooks, including almost every up-to-date tach- 
istoscopic and acceleration device. We presently 
have a reserve list of about 50 children from nearby 
communities who have been waiting for six months 
to get into the remedial services, one school system 
which is waiting for us to bring our staff to its 
city for a Saturday morning program, and two other 
school systems which are on the list for future in- 
service seminars for their own teachers. 

At every step in this program, from meeting 
with school superintendents to testing cerebral 
palsy children, graduates and undergraduates in 
the MSC reading sequence go right along with us. 
For Montclair is not essentially in the clinic busi- 
ness, but in the business of training teachers. We 
feel that course work in theory is learning in isola- 
tion. Every course we offer involves observation in 
one of our many laboratory experiences, and most 
courses require it. We feel there is less than opti- 
mum benefit in overviewing the physiological, 
psychological, and sociological factors in reading, 
examining curriculum opportunities to involve read- 
ing instruction, developing practical methods for 
promoting study skills, coordinating library and 
classroom materials, improving reading attitudes, 
differentiating individual needs, using current test- 



ing and diagnostic procedures, writing case studies 
of reading difficulties ... all of these are unreal 
unless children are involved Opportunities to 
work directly with the students, to test them, to 
set up instructional programs for them, to report to 
parents, and to confer with the sending agencies. 
are supervised by the reading specialists and psy- 
chologists on the staff of the Reading Laboratory 
This iS meaningful field experience which involves 
both educational challenge and a deep appreciation 
of the dignity of human nature. 

There is a READING EXPLOSION in New Jer- 
sey, and in all America, because we now realize 
that reading is not taught once-and-for-all at any 
level It is a dynamic, changing process which needs 
to be reviewed, encouraged, expanded, and refined 
all the time. We need programs in reading develop- 
ment for the slow learner, who is achieving below 
even his limited capacity, for the bright student. 
who is reading without the finesse and creativity 
his Capacity promises, and for the special case, who 
needs clinical help. This is an age of ideas, and 
printed words are the tools of thinking. Success in 
any phase of life demands a high ability to commu- 
nicate. The student who cannot read the word 
cannot understand the thought. 

For schools to deny their comm.unities the very 
best possible teaching and learning of the reading- 
thinking skills is for them to play ostrich in the face 
of an explosion. Ostriches need not apply! But for 
the reality-seekers. Montclair State College stands 
ready to assist. 




REVIVAL OF GYMNASTICS 

By DR. RICHARD W. TEWS 

Direcfor. Panzer School of 

Physical Education and Hygiene 

Montclair St';ite College 

Back as far as the Athenians of ancient Greece, 
gymnastics were employed as a means of develop- 
ing the body to its highest capacity. In gymnastics 
were included such activities as jumping, boxing, 
wrestling, running, and throwing the discus and 
javelin. 

Gymnastics came to the United States as part 
of the German system.s of physical education. Phys- 
ical education was introduced into the schools of 
America as a health measure around 1890. The 
Turnverein, a German gymnastic society which had 
277 separate clubs in America between 1880 and 
1890, was a strong force in encouraging the intro- 
duction of physical education and gave strong lead- 
ership and support when it came about. It is not 
difficult to see, then, why gymnastics played an 
important part in early programs in our country. 

Gymnastics, as it is known there, included 
three essential types of activities. These were gym- 
nastics on the heavy apparatus (horse, buck, bal- 
ance beam, rings, parallel bars, horizontal bar, and 
tumbling) , gymnastics with light or hand apparatus 
(wands, Indian clubs, and dumbbells) and free 
standing gymnastics, (calisthenics) . 

The early program.s tended to be very formal 
with little opportunity for any social activity among 
the pupils. It was command and response. Be- 
tween 1885 and 1900, there began developing in 





this country a movement which is identified as the 
playground movement. The value of games was 
recognized for the prom.oting of broader objectives 
of physical education. Over a period of years, this 
movement was endorsed and adopted so whole- 
heartedly that the work in gymnastics was aban- 
doned entirely in many schools and gymnastic ap- 
paratus was discarded. 

For a time, there were still quite a few vigorous 
things that many boys and girls did in their normal 
play activities outside of school. More recently, 
however, these activities have been elim.inated and 
others of m.ore sedentary nature have replaced 
them. Confronted with the shocking lack of mini- 
mum muscular strength, as evidenced by the com- 
parison of test results of American and European 
children on the Kraus-Weber test, educators, par- 
ents, and government officials began to look about 
for things to do to help our youth become more fit 

Gymnastic activities were "re-discovered" as a 
means of doing this job. We are delighted to point 
out that Panzer was one of the few schools which 
did not discard gymnastics but has felt all along 
that these activities had m.uch to offer in the de- 
velopment of strength, agility, flexibility, m.uscular 
endurance, coordination, poise, grace and courage. 
We are delighted to see many schools purchasing 
new equipment now to enable them to include this 
fine activity in their program. Incidentally, when 
done well, there is no better activity for commu- 
nity relations and for gaining m.ore support for 
physical education. 




CURRICULUM CHANCES AT 
MONTCLAIR STATE COLLEGE 

By 

DR. CLYDE M. HUBER 

Dean of the College 
Montclair State College 

Introduction 

There are rriany elements that contribute to the 
success and prestige of an institution of higher 
education. The curriculum of a college is the plan of 
activity to bring all these forces of faculty, facilities, 
and philosophy to the achievement of success for 
the graduates of the college. Only in terms of this 
standard can the standing of a college be measured. 

Montclair has reached a pinnacle of recognition 
in this respect, first by proving to the educational 
fraternity that a college, devoted entirely to teacher 
education, could turn out topflight teachers of aca- 
dem.ic subjects in high school. Secondly, that it 
could attract and hold an able student body and an 
outstanding faculty. 

When the original curriculum for the prepara- 
tion of secondary school teachers of academic sub- 
jects was developed in the late 1920's, the basic 
tenets of philosophy were formulated. These prin- 
ciples have been noted with little change in suc- 
ceeding years and m,ay be found stated in the latest 
catalog. However, the specific means by which the 
objectives of philosophy are attained have under- 
gone considerable change This is evidence of a 
dynamic faculty thoroughly in touch with develop- 
ments in education in the secondary school of New 
Jersey, scholarship of the faculty in their own 
fields, and a high place in professional growth of 
higher education in the nation at large. 
General Education 

One of these principles has been the belief that 
"each student must be familiar with social, politi- 
cal, economic, industrial, scientific, religious, liter- 
ary, and aesthetic phases of life." Also, that this 



"background should be a body of related knowl- 
edge rather than a collection of isolated parts "" 
This was a firm commitment to a program of "gen- 
eral education" which was called "professional 
background" long before the Harvard report on 
"General Education in a Free Society." This gen- 
eral education program has been a corner stone of 
the Montclair curriculum. 

For some years, the pattern of general educa- 
tion courses rem.ained somewhat stable at a total of 
40 semester hours out of 128 required for gradua- 
tion The most significant changes took place fol- 
lowing the adoption of the State-wide Curriculum 
Commission report in 1956'after a three-year study 
by the College and the Commission. 

The new pattern called for 48 semester hours 
of general or liberal education, distributed as fol- 
lows: Language Communication, 6 semester hours; 
Hum.anities, 12 semester hours; Social Sciences. 12 
semester hours; Science and Mathematics. 12 se- 
mester hours; and Physical and Mental Health. 6 
semester hours. 

In this revision, the m.ost significant changes, 
other than usual evolutionary development of all 
courses, were in certain areas long felt to be some- 
what inadequate. Some of these changes were 
made possible by the introduction of new majors 
and new departments. Notable in this respect was 
the change in the art appreciation course. This was 
previously a one credit course with little oppor- 
tunity for real expression in art formis by the stu- 
dents in the course. The revised course is a three 
semester hour course entitled "Introduction to the 
Visual Arts." Emphasis is placed on an understand- 
ing of the nature of art and expression in various 
art forms. 

Four semesters of physical education activities 
are required as in the early curriculum; however, 
credit is now assigned and activities are more di- 
versified with greater emphasis on individual and 
dual sports. 

Music appreciation has been expanded from a 
one semester hour course to two semester hours re- 
quired, with greater emphasis en class preparation 
outside of the listening hour. 

The world literature course as previously of- 
fered is no longer required except of English ma- 
jors. In its place there is required a three semester 
hour course entitled "Western World Literature.'" 

Courses in communication titled "Fundamen- 
tals of Speech" and "Fundamentals of Writing" 
are essentially the same but have been moved to 
the freshman year. There is also more emphasis on 
speech laboratory practice and a clinic on reading 
improvement. 



The basic two years work in social studies in 
the extent of twelve semester hours is still in ef- 
fect; however, the course organization has 
changed. There is greater emphasis on world civili- 
zation in the freshman year as the course is titled 
"Development of World Civilization." The sopho- 
more year has been organized as an integrated 
course in sociology, economics, and political science 
with the title "Contemporary American Life." 

Science and mathematics courses are essentially 
the same pattern as before with some reorganiza- 
tion of content to bring the coverage up-to-date. 
In science, either biological or physical science is 
required, the student being assigned to the one not 
covered in high school so as to insure a broad 
knowledge of some of the elementary aspects of 
the scientific method. Advanced placement is pos- 
sible either in science or mathematics. Electives in 
both these areas are offered, and two semester 
hours of work must be elected. Some of the elec- 
tives now developed include "Three Centuries of 
Science Progress," "Consumer Science," "Photog- 
raphy," "Astronomy," "Genetics," and more ad- 
vanced departm.ental courses. 

Specialization 

Another guiding principle has been that each 
curriculum should make adequate provision for 
specialization. The major in the academic fields 
usually consists of a minimum of 30 semester 
hours. In certain subjects, especially those new 
areas added as a result of the last building program, 
including fine arts, home economics, industrial arts, 
and physical education, as well as music, which was 
introduced at an earlier date, provision is made for 
majors of at least 39 semester hours. The complete 
fulfillment of a m.inor is not required except as it 
is incorporated into the major as in the case of 
physical education, which also provides certification 
in health education. Out of the 128 hours required 
for graduation, 53 hours may be allotted to special- 
ization including student teaching. The require- 
ment in student teaching has undergone consider- 
able change, the total requirement having been re- 
duced from 12 weeks full time for 10 semester 
hours credit to 8 weeks full time for 8 semester 
hours credit. Four of the special areas, fine arts, 
home economics, industrial arts, and music, have 
part of this in the junior year as a four-week 
practicum, the remaining six weeks being com- 
pleted in the first semester of the senior year. 

The requirement of completion of endorsement 
for teaching in the elementary school was rescinded 
by State Board of Education action dated May 14, 
1954. Since that time, courses in elementary edu- 



cation and student teaching in the elementary 
school, except for the special subjects embracing 
certification in elementary and secondary schools, 
have been eliminated. The College no longer pro- 
vides endorsement for general elementary school 
teaching. 

Basic Professional Education 

The professional education courses, including 
psychology, have been completely revised. Instead 
of five courses, each with two points credit, there 
are now required five courses each with three 
points credit for a total of 1 5 semester hours. The 
introductory course in "Mental Hygiene and Per- 
sonal Adjustment" is included in general education. 

The sophomore year of psychology has been 
lengthened from four semester hours to six semes- 
ter hours in a two semester course titled "Human 
Growth and Development." The junior year intro- 
duces the student to "The Teacher in School and 
Community." three semester hours credit, followed 
by the course "Principles and Techniques of Teach- 
ing," three sem.ester hours, included in the general 
area of specialization. The course "Development 
of Educational Thought" for three semester hours 
in the first semester is followed during the second 
semester by an elective three semester hour course 
selected from, at present, a list of 11 different of- 
ferings. This choice enables the student to round 
out his exploration of areas such as "Psychology 
and Education of the Handicapped," "Teaching the 
Block-of-Time Program in the Secondary School," 
"Guidance for the Classroom Teacher," "Social Psy- 
chology," "Measurement and Evaluation in Teach- 
ing and Learning" and others equally enriching and 
broadening. 

Electives 

During the period 1950-1956 little opportunity 
was allowed for electives outside the major or 
minor fields since credits normally allowed in this 
area had to be used to build up the endorsement to 
teach in elementary school. Since rescinding this 
requirement and since the introduction of new de- 
partments, a great effort has been made to provide 
a respectable array of elective courses. Each cur- 
riculum must provide the student with opportunity 
to take 12 semester hours of free electives. 

Evaluation 

The College is now engaging in a study of the 
evaluation of the effect of these changes. It is 
hoped that we never become satisfied with past or 
present achievements but that each college genera- 
tion of students and faculty will continuously ap- 
praise the curriculum and have the courage to bring 
into being changes deemed desirable. 



THE 'INTENSIVE" WAY OF 
TEACHING COMPOSITION 

By 

LAWRENCE H. CONRAD 

Professor of English, Montclair State College 

There are six things wrong with the teaching 
of composition; and six things are too many. First, 
there are too many students in each class. Second, 
there are too many "regulations" imposed from 
above specifying how much writing must be done 
in a given term, and how often written papers are 
to be required. Third, the composition work is 
usually approached through the study of grammar 
or linked with a grammar unit, and this is simply 
wrong way around. Fourth, the composition unit 
usually occurs in all of a given teacher's classes 
simultaneously, so that when she is having papers 
to grade, she always has more than any one human 
being can handle. Fifth, the common approach to 
writing is through form and structure rather than 
through the substance or subject-matter about 
which the papers are to be written, except for the 
one long effort usually called "the research paper," 
And sixth, most papers are written outside of class 
and so are not a reliable reflection of student skill 
and student difficulties. 

To attack these difficulties piecemeal would be 
to launch six complete crusades all at once, and 
would result after a time in the creation of a teach- 
ing apparatus twice as complex as what we now 
have. Surely that is not to be desired. On the 
other hand, most of these difficulties yield to a 
new and paradoxical technique which almost any 
teacher can apply. Instead of having students do 
more writing to improve their compositional skills, 
you have them write less, but in a calculated pro- 
gram of teaching called Intensive Composition. 

As we accelerate the educational process and 
make more and more of our studies intensive, Eng- 
lish Composition — which has not changed for half 
a century — feels the stimulation of being replanned 
so as to fit in with the other studies in the curricu- 
lum. Nowhere have intensive methods shown a 
more surprising result. Composition, when made in- 
tensive, becomes a new and often a thrilling study. 

The first step, of course, is to shorten the 
theme. But it is best not merely to curb its length; 
it is best to put a premium on shortness. In the 
past, pupils have tried to get a little bit said with 
an enormous number of words. By requiring them 
to say a great deal with the fewest possible words, 
you bring them to closer grips with every language 
problem they would ever meet, and sharpen their 
focus upon each one of those problems. 




LAWRENCE H. CONRAD 

Give them a two- or three-page description of 
a house lit may be a paper someone in the class 
wrote last week) , and require them to write appro- 
priate "copy" to advertise that house for sale or 
rent, in a newspaper charging fifty cents a line for 
such advertising. The problem is to say everything 
that is essential, in as few words as possible, and 
yet make it so convincing as to sell the house. 
Members of the class will comment on the effec- 
tiveness of the wording, and on the sales value of 
the paper. 

Give them a two- or three-page letter (again, it 
may be one they wrote) , and require the contents 
to be digested into a telegram to be sent at stand- 
ard rates. This presents the problem of choosing 
what is essential — and the class will be the judge 
of that — and of using the words and constructions 
which will most effectively cover a great deal of 
meaning, leaving no chance for confusion on the 
part of the reader. Once the class has chosen the 
telegram that does the most effective piece of work 
for its length, it is stimulating to try by class effort 
to reduce its contents to a cablegram at three dol- 
lars a word ! 

Ingenuity with language is thus encouraged, 
and the pupil needs to canvass his resources care- 
fully in order to meet the requirements at all. The 
pupil with the large — but loose — vocabulary is not 
th one who wins in this game. In the long run. 
the best thinker is the one who turns out the best 
composition. And that is as it should be. for that 
is how it is in life. But in such an exercise as this, 
everyone gets some training in thought. Manipula- 
tion of language involves the discovery of several 
ways of thinking about the same thing. 

Too often in the past, we have given the most 
credit to the pupil who "covered" his subject 
smoothly but at great length. And that pupil may 



have had to be expansive for sheer lack of the in- 
genuity that brief papers require. Much of the 
space covered was mere warming-up of the writer's 
mind, to bring it to the point of saying anything 
at all. 

With commercial groups, inter-office memo- 
randa make effective theme-writing vehicles. The 
dime store will supply a pad that will go several 
times around the class. The notation has to be ex- 
tremely brief, but it must allow no chance of hav- 
ing its meaning mistaken. If anyone can misread 
it, let him do so, and then let the class decide what 
made the memorandum vulnerable. No one gets 
lost in this exercise. Every word is directly under 
the eye of the class. Grammatical errors come un- 
der condemnation, because they give rise to mis- 
understanding. Everything is said so briefly, that it 
must be said just right. More than anything else, 
the prodigal waste of words, for which youngsters 
are famous, receives a check. No one is stopped 
from saying what he means to say; but everyone is 
required to do some composing — and this is what 
composition ought to teach. 

So far, it all sounds like fun and nothing else. 
But this sort of exercise has a serious value. By 
searching out the essentials of a piece of composi- 
tion, pupils learn to watch for the substance of 
what they read. After only a few weeks of such 
exercises, they commence to sift their own 
thoughts to find what is essential in them. They 
talk less and write more briefly. But they say fully 
as much as before. Moreover, both their fellows 
and the adults at home give closer attention to 
what these pupils say, for it is noticed that they 
usually have a thought in mind when they com- 
mence. 

In another phase of this program, the pupil is 
provided with an experience interesting enough 
and stirring enough so that he will surely have 
thoughts to express. And a strict limit is put upon 
the amount of space he may use for his writing, 
and upon the amount of time he may take to put 
his thoughts on paper. Instead of writing exten- 
sively, saying it over and over until he gets it right, 
he must write intensively, planning what he will 
say and shaping his thoughts to fit the space and 
time limitation. It is perhaps harder to express 
anything briefly, than it is to express the same 
thought at length. Certainly the brief com,position 
calls for the greater skill in fitting all elements to- 
gether. 

An intensive composition exercise might take 
twenty minutes of a class period, preferably at the 
end of the hour, the writing to be terminated by 
the bell. 



Five minutes are for the teacher to use in 
setting forth the instructions for the exercise. The 
next five minutes are for all members of the class 
to have the experience the teacher has provided. 
The next five minutes are for thinking, planning, 
composing. And the last five minutes — no more — 
are for writing. 

The teacher brings in, under cover, some 
genuinely unusual and curious object, and at the 
right mom.ent, invites the class to come forward 
to the desk and examine it. The object could be 
a piece of intricate craftsmanship, an artifact from 
some earlier civilization, a living animal, or an 
oddly-shaped mineral crystal. Its principal effect 
should not be esthetic. Five minutes should be al- 
lowed for observation. No talking should be per- 
mitted, so as to insure that each will have his own 
experience. 

Back to their seats, the pupils should have a 
full five minutes of quiet in which to reflect and 
plan what they are going to say on the paper. And 
then, on signal, they should have five minutes 
(terminated by the bell) to write. Writing should 
be on one side of one sheet only. To run over that 
length should incur a penalty. Papers are turned in 
as the pupils leave the room. 

The exercise is fair to all: every pupil has the 
same opportunity to observe, then think and plan,, 
and to write. Every pupil must use all of his skills; 
and the same skills are required for brief paper as 
for a long one, only more intensively applied. 
Learning and the developm.ent of skill seem to oc- 
cur faster than in the weekly — or daily — perform- 
ance of the longer and looser exercises. 

The difference for the teacher is great. Such 
papers may be corrected in about a minute and a 
half to each paper. The teacher's mind stays fresh. 
Moreover the pupils, under the stimulation of a 
novel experience, write a fresher kind of paper, 
often with great originality, to refresh the teacher's 
lagging spirit. The teacher does not groan at the 
pupils, and they do not groan back at her. Both 
take up their tasks with some measure of zest. 

In evaluating and grading the papers, the 
teacher should write a quick comment on each one, 
to indicate whether it is the observation, the plan- 
ning, or the actual writing that is chiefly reflected 
in the grade. And then the grade, which should 
always be put down last, almost as an afterthought. 
But there should be one grade only, a summary of 
the effectiveness of the whole task of composing. 

A program of intensive composition helps, 
young people in studying their lessons. It teaches 
them to write the kind of thing they are m.ost likely 
(Continued on Page 22) 



8 



THE BEST JUST GOOD ENOUGH! 



By CEORCE C. KING 
Direcfor of Admissions, Montclair State College 




Every college applicant 
examination and have 

When an admissions officer is asked to write 
about the admissions picture as he sees it, he 
usually launches into a long dissertation regarding 
the statistical breakdown of entering class designed 
to show how bright they are, how diversified are 
their backgrounds, the coverage his college pro- 
vides with respect to geographical distribution, and 
a host of other matters that lend themselves nicely 
to the hokus-pokus of statistics. I have chosen to 
take another tack, one of considerable interest to 
MSC alumni. The admissions office would appre- 
ciate having alumni reaction regarding the pro- 
posals set forth in this article. 

First of all, perhaps, you would be interested in 
a little background concerning the reasons why stu- 
dents choose a particular college. As most of the 
readers of this article are or were teachers, it is 
not necessary to list all the reasons why students 
choose a particular school. Perhaps it is sufficient 
to say that in almost every instance a personality of 
strong import to the student is a very persuasive 
factor in making this choice. Perhaps a friend, a 
parent, an acquaintance from the community, and 
very often a favorite or favored teacher in the high 
school from which the student is about to graduate 
forms the strongest attachment that a student de- 
velops regarding a particular institution. There are 
of course many other reasons why students choose 
a particular college: the curriculum, the location, 
the cost, all sorts of reasons; but very clearly, as 
shown in numerous studies on the students enter- 
ing Montclair and other colleges, the recommenda- 



must take an entrance 
a personal interview. 

tion of a person liked by the student is frequently 
the deciding factor. 

You might like to know what kind of student 
comes to Montclair. Statistically, the Montclair 
student is better prepared, has earned higher 
grades in high school, has a brighter prospect of 
success in the future as indicated by College En- 
trance Examinations, and on the average is all- 
around better prepared than the average student 
applying to the State Colleges in New Jersey. 
Montclair students in general are on a par with stu- 
dents at better liberal arts colleges competing for 
New Jersey students. As a matter of fact, Mont- 
clair State is faced with a considerable problem in 
obtaining the students it wishes from amongst its 
applicants, because these students are so frequent- 
ly accepted by other good schools, in the last ad- 
missions year, every student who was accepted at 
Montclair was also accepted by at least one other 
institution, and in most instances by several others. 
This speaks highly of the kind of student who 
comes to Montclair. 

Perhaps at this point a discussion of the prob- 
lems connected with selecting a freshman class, 
yesterday, today, and tomorrow at Montclair will 
help you to see the kind of role alumni can take m 
assuming that the best students attend their alma 
mater. Without question, the trend m the past 
decade and into the ensuing decade has been and 
will continue to be from fewer to more applicants 

(Continued on Page 221 




FINE ARTS: ITS GROWTH 
AND DEVELOPMENT 

By DR. L. A. CALCIA "* 

Chairman, Deparf-ment of Fine Arts 
Montclair State College 

The Fine Arts Department was initiated in 
1954 at Montclair State College for the purpose of 
preparing fine arts teachers for the elementary and 
secondary schools of the state. For the first time 
in the State of New Jersey, a college fine arts de- 
partment was housed in a new building designed 
for a curriculum in fine arts. 

The Department, in 1956, moved into a new 
building planned to accommodate an entering class 
of twenty each year. However, in order to meet 
the needs of the State the size of the entering class 
was increased to forty-eight and additional studios 
were given to the Department in three other build- 
ings. We now have eight studios: Textiles and 
Weaving, Ceramics, Sculpture, Painting, Print 
Making, Photography, Theater and Puppetry, and 
Art Education. At present, we have 169 majors in 
fine arts, and a faculty of eight full time and two 
part time staff members. 

The present curriculum is the result of the 
State-wide revision of 1956. The Fine Arts majors 
follow the same pattern of required courses in gen- 
eral education and professional education as all 
other majors. In selecting the content, sequence 
and weight given to art courses the staff was 
guided by the realization of the wide variation of 
preparation of the entering student, and the objec- 
tive of preparing teachers equipped to teach art to 
all elementary and secondary school children. 

Content was selected to include individual and 
group art forms, two- and three-dimensional art 
forms, art history and art education. Each course 
was made a year in length, recognizing that for all 




10 



art forms there is a body of art knowledge to be 
learned, believing that attainment of a degree of 
mastery over the craft of each art form and the 
ability to make a personal statement are necessary 
to the individual well-being as well as requirements 
for teaching. Opportunity was provided in the 
fourth year through a course called Art Workshop 
for each student to elect to work in an art form of 
his choice to develop a higher degree of achieve- 
ment. In addition to the required sequence, majors 
can elect twelve credits from a group of nineteen 
elective courses which are offered on a rotating 
basis. 

It was recognized that equally important with 
the preparation of art teachers was the responsi- 
bility of the Department to offer art courses to non- 
art majors for the enrichmient of their general edu- 
cation. Painstaking effort over several years has 
been given to developing the content and presenta- 
tion of the course given to all non-art majors, In- 
troduction to the Visual Arts. The objective of this 
course is to give the students appreciative and p''o- 
ductive experiences in art. It is hoped that this 
initial experience will encourage non-art majors to 
elect further work in art. 

The members of the Fine Arts Department look 
forward to the time when an extended physical 
plant will include not cnly the additional studios it 
so sorely needs, but also a gallery designed to have 
a small but choice collection of art continuously on 
display and a program of short term exhibits. This 
kind of facility is as necessary to the Fine Arts De- 
partment for attaining the objectives of the Depart- 
ment as is the library to academic courses, the 
playing fields to the physical education majors, as 
the auditorium to speech and music majors. Net 
only the college community will benefit from such 
a gallery, but also the college service area. Mont- 
clair, located as it is within driving distance of hun- 
dreds of thousands of people, is logically an institu- 
tion which should serve as an art center. 





I I 



SOVIET EDUCATION 

By B. ERNEST SHORE 

An Assistant Professor of Slavic Languages and Culture at Montclair State College, who trav- 
eled extensively in European Russia and Siberia with the Comparative Education Society of 
America on an inspection tour of Soviet educational institutions. 



The spectacular launching of the first sputnik 
on October 29, 1957, caused the educational sys- 
tem of the Soviet Union to be very carefully scru- 
tinized by foreigners. People everywhere began 
asking the question: how could this country which 
was once so illiterate that it was the scandal of 
Europe, which was invaded and devastated in both 
World Wars, which suffered revolution, civil war, 
famine, and the harshness of fanatical tyranny, 
how could such a country surpass the rest of the 
world in an exceedingly important phase of science? 

It seemed only natural to look for the answer 
in the way the citizens of that country are edu- 
cated. Assiduous research soon resulted in the pub- 
lication of many reliable books and learned maga- 
zine articles. After five years of such activity, 
there is very little of importance that we do not 
now know about Soviet education. Historical de- 
velopment has been studied, new facts have been 
observed, correlated, and filed, various perspec- 
tives and evaluations have been made, and all may 
conveniently be consulted in any college cr public 
library. 

But purely documentary materials contain a 
great danger. They have no real bulk or palpable 
weight, no co-existing contradictions, no efferves- 
ence from one state of being to another, in short, 



the same in a vacuum, and in the vacuum of sta- 
tistics it is easy to give much the same importance 
to various ciphers, and to accept the bare scientific 
account as the whole story. It is to take the artist's 
preliminary cartoon as the finished painting, or the 
statement of the musical theme as the full sym- 
phony. A visit to the Soviet Union helps give flesh 
and blood to the statistics about it, and infuses vi- 
tality into what otherwise might be merely skeleton 
outlines. Herein lies the great value of the cul- 
tural exchange relationships that have recently 
come about between the Soviet Union and the 
United States. 

Human nature is the same on both sides of any 
line drawn on a map. Soviet citizens have the same 
tendencies to love and hate, to work and shirk, to 
acquire and dominate, as people anywhere else. For- 
ty-five years of indoctrination have been outstand- 
ingly unsuccessful in changing these basic human 
predispositions. The Soviet family too seeks "sta- 
tus", tries to keep up with the Ivanovs, puts on 
occasional swank, and hopefully strives for luxur- 
ies, all within the general framework and termin- 
ology of a comimunist social and economic system. 
In education, this means that it wants to send its 
children not merely to a school but to the best 
school, and to have them finish up their education 



they lack the human element. All objects weigh at a university. So important is this that Russian 




An auditorium in Moscow University 

12 



newspapers recently reported that "stand-ms" have 
been caught taking university entrance examina- 
tions for weak but wealthy candidates, at a fee 
equivalent to thousands cf dollars. This is a rare 
event, and no doubt not at all typical, yet it shows 
facets of the so-called classless society that one 
might not expect. 

The enormous 32 storied University of Moscow, 
situated in a campus of a thousand suburban acres 
and with 1 ,700 classrooms, 2,000 teachers. 25,000 
students, and 6 million titles in the libraries, is the 
goal of most students in the Soviet Union. It is 
not merely that the standard is considered higher 
at the University of Moscow than at any of the 38 
other universities in the country and that a certain 
social approval is attached to the candidate who is 
able to satisfy the entrance authorities in regard to 
his intellectual powers, factory, farm or military 
experience, and promise of future usefulness to the 



and the production of sputnik. The scientists who 
worked on it were mostly Russian in origin, with a 
few foreigners, and all had quite diverse training 
Their intellectual qualities developed because they 
had natural capacities, and the development was 
both because of. and in spite of. their earlier train- 
ing. Genius has a way of manifesting itself regard- 
less of time, race, politics or location. That it should 
blossom into a fine flower is a matter of proper 
recognition and support Intense and creative study 
of science and mathematics is ideologically in- 
nocuous, though the results of the study may have 
ideological uses. Similarly intense and original 
study of history or economics might produce con- 
clusions embarrassing in their political implications. 
The Kremlin, with all the power of an autocratic 
government, gave complete and unstinting aid to 
scientific research, and this, much more than any 
system of education, produced the much-renowned 




t i 

Red Square 

state, but also because Moscow is a city of size, 
movement, and opportunity. The best of music. 
ballet, films, and the theater is to be found there: 
cultural life is of a vigor rivalled only by that of 
Leningrad, which itself is but an overnight journey 
away. In drab Siberian towns, modern day Chek- 
hovian sisters (and their brothers) still yearn for 
the excitement of Moscow. 

But is the answer about sputnik achievement 
really in Soviet education? After all. it was the very 
next year after sputnik was put into orbit that the 
Soviet Government decreed a complete reform of 
its whole educational system from top to bottom. 
It is most unlikely that an educational system that 
had worked so well would be so soon scrapped. The 
only possible inference is that there was no close 
connection between the Soviet educational system 



, Moscow 

achievements of Soviet science. 

The reformed educational system m effect to- 
day is clearly designed to prepare a large body of 
skilled technicians, laboratory assistants, and sec- 
ond-line personnel who will carry out all the more 
or less routine labor of scientific projects in a thor- 
oughly competent manner. The creative intellects 
will thus be free for speculative and experimental 
work, and perhaps for the training, on a cooperat- 
ing basis, of the exceptionally gifted younger sci- 
entists whose originality is vigorous enough to sur- 
vive the obvious regimentation and inflexibility of 
the preliminary stages of education. In reality, 
then, the Soviet system of education is not the 
producer of Soviet science but the result of it. 

Science and mathematics are the very key- 
( Continued on Page 22 i 



13 



DEVELOPMENTS IN THE SCIENCE CURRICULUM 

By 
DR. IRWIN H. CAWLEY 

Associafe Professor of Science 
Montclair State College 

Most rapid strides recently have been made in istry and physics. All of these approaches appear 
the area of science in the secondary schools. The to have several things in common: less emphasis 



science program of the senior high school has un- 
dergone closer scrutiny than its junior high school 
counterpart. The general science program at the 
seventh to ninth grade level has felt the impact of 
the emerging program in elementary science. The 
junior high teachers have felt the need for better 
articulation between the courses in science at the 
various grade levels. Serious doubts have been 
raised concerning the need for a ninth grade gen- 
eral science course. In some districts, the course 



on learning scientific facts and technological de- 
velopments, greater emphasis on understanding 
scientific principles and concepts, understanding 
the methodology of science, and the work of the 
scientist. 

In the area of biology, the American Institute 
of Biological Sciences has inaugurated the Biologi- 
cal Science Curriculum Study known as the BSCS 
program. The program was organized to develop 
new biology courses which will give the student an 




The increased utilizafion of instrumentation in ch 
This science major is performing a conductimetric 

at this grade level is being replaced by an offering 
in earth science or in earth-space science. Tests 
are becoming available in both of these areas. 
Finding teachers adequately prepared to teach these 
subjects is quite another story. The question of 
placing biology in the curriculum at the ninth grade 
level has also been considered by school districts 
where the previous general science experiences of 
the students have been adequate. 

Recent developments in science have given im- 
petus to a great deal of curriculum research at 
the senior high level. Considerable expenditures of 
National Science Foundation funds have gone into 
the development of new courses in biology, chem- 



emistry is changing the nature of lab experiments, 
titration. 

understanding of: ( 1 ) his own place in the scheme 
of nature (2) his own body, its structure and func- 
tion (3) diversity of life and its inter-relations (4) 
development of biological concepts (5) nature of 
scientific inquiry. This group has developed three 
separate courses, one, the blue version, is based 
upon a physiological-biochemical approach to the 
course. This version starts with the chemical re- 
actions that take place in the cell, the cell and its 
relationship to tissues and organs and functions of 
the entire organism. Unit headings include such 
topics as. "On Being Alive," "The Composition and 
Organization of Living Things," "The Quest For 
Energy," "The Uses of Energy." 



14 



The approach of the green version is entirely 
different. This is known as the ecological ap- 
proach. Here a study is made of an ecological 
community. It is concerned with how organisms 
are organized into populations, species and comm.u- 
nities and with what organisms do and how they 
do it. Characteristic chapter titles include such 
topics as "Life on Land," "Life in Inland Waters," 
"Life in the Seas,'" "Biogeography," "Biohistory." 

The third is the yellow version, which is or- 
ganized on the genetic approach to biology. Here 
topical unit headings include: "Diversity in the 
Animal Kingdom," "Diversity in the Plant King- 
dom." "Genetics," "Reproduction and Develop- 
ment," "Evolution." All three versions are being 
tested in num.erous schools over the nation. The 
teachers involved feed back reactions to the 
course content, and revisions are made and will 
continue to be made in content and method of 
presentation of the various versions. The BSCS is 
not sure what will evolve from this project, a single 
course or a series of courses such as those present 
in the experimental study. 

Other unique features of the BSCS program in- 
clude a six week laboratory "block" at the end of 
the course during which time the student works 
almost entirely in the laboratory and pursues a lab- 
oratory problem in depth. Such topics as plant 
growth and development, animal growth and de- 
velopment, or microbes are some of the areas pre- 
sently considered. The program includes a series 
of research experiences titled "Biological Investiga- 



tions For Secondary School Students " This is a 
compilation of research projects that can be worked 
on by the superior high school student. 

Two programs have evolved in the field of 
chemistry, the Chemical Bond Approach called 
CBA and the Chemical Education Materials Study 
called the CHEM study. Both of these are radical 
departures from the traditional secondary school 
chemistry course. The same techniques of school 
experimentation, feed-back and revision apply to 
these courses as well as to the biology program. 

The CBA uses the chemical bond as the unify- 
ing concept of the course. The atomic and mole- 
cular structures are analyzed in great detail in this 
approach. Little time is spent on the descriptive 
chemistry of the halogens, sulfur, and the other 
chemical substances. Time is spent developing the 
general concepts of chemistry and the explanation 
of these concepts based upon structure. 

The CHEM study has as its major p-emise the 
fact that the high school chemistry course should 
be strongly based upon experiment, with the text 
thoroughly dependent upon and integrated into the 
laboratory experiments. The mechanisms of chemi- 
cal reactions are stressed. This is evident from the 
titles of some of the units in the course: "Energy 
Effects in Chemical Reactions", "The Rates of 
Chemical Reactions", "Equilibrium in Chemical Re- 
actions", "Ionic Solutions and Reactions". 

Both studies have introduced new experimental 
approaches The need to get away from the cook- 

( Continued on Page 23' 




Modern lab equipment is now at the beck and call of science majors. 

15 



SPEECH AND HEARING CENTER OFFERS 
COMMUNITY WIDE SERVICES 



By DR. HAROLD M. SCHOLL 

Professor of Speech 

Coordinator, Speech and Hearing Center 

Montclair State College 

"An Unusual Opportunity for Children with 
Speech Disorders" headlined the announcement of 
the inauguration, in 1952, of the Speech and Hear- 
ing Center at Montclair State College. The values 
of this specialized program have accrued not only to 
the speech handicapped children, however, but also 
to the Montclair undergraduates who are majoring 
in speech education. Since 1952, the program in 
speech and hearing therapy has epitomized college 
involvement in community service and "learning 
by doing." In observing its tenth anniversary this 
year, the Speech Department is proud of its accom- 
plishments and growth. Over 1,000 children have 
been helped at the center, the professional staff 
has quadrupled, and the number of undergraduates 
majoring in speech has trebled. Once located in 
one small room in the basement of College Hall, 
the Speech and Hearing Center now meets in a 
specially designed suite of rooms in the Memorial 
Auditorium building. Facilities and equipment are 
available for speech diagnostic services, audio- 
metric testing, and individual and small group 
speech therapy. 

Referrals to the center are made by doctors, 
school nurses, school administrators, teachers, and 
parents. Diagnostic interviews, for which there are 
no fees, are conducted by one of the professors in 
charge. The child is accepted for therapy if, in the 
examiner's opinion, the applicant can be helped at 
the center, and if the problem will be of value in 
the training of student therapists. There is no 
charge for therapy except during the summer ses- 
sion. At that time, professional speech therapists 
provide intensive speech therapy for a six week pe- 
riod. During the academic year, however, therapy 
is provided by speech majors and minors in their 
junior year of college, under the supervision of Dr. 
Gilbert Leight and Professor Eve Hubschman. Thus, 
students must follow their foundation and theory 
courses with clinical practice, in the presence of 
professional supervision. 

In addition to these opportunities to work with 
children in small groups in the way they will in the 
public schools, undergraduate speech majors also 
fulfill half of the practicum requirement at a com- 



munity hospital rehabilitation center. Through an 
affiliation with Mountainside Hospital, established 
in 1959 by Dr. Harold Scholl of Montclair State 
College, and Dr. Keith C. Keeler of Mountainside 
Hospital, students work with children and adults in 
supervised individual therapy sessions. Their ex- 
periences include teaching a mentally retarded 
child to express his basic needs, teaching a deaf 
child to say his first words, helping a child with 
cerebral palsy to control the muscles of his lips and 
tongue when speaking, re-educating an adult who 
has lost the ability to speak as the result of a brain 
clot, and teaching a 60 year old man to produce a 
new kind of voice because his cancerous larynx has 
been removed. Through their clinical activities, 
students develop an appreciation and respect for 
human life and dignity, and they experience the 
satisfactions that come from constructively helping 
other human beings. Above all, they develop the 
necessary basic skills for providing the best possible 
speech and hearing therapy. 

Two voluntary activities further enrich the 
training program. Many students, under Professor 
Hubschman's supervision, work with institution- 
alized mentally retarded children at the North Jer- 
sey Training School in a speech and language de- 
velopm.ent program that was established in 1957 by 
Dr. Scholl in affiliation with the college. Semi- 
annual speech surveys in local schools, supervised 
by Professor Ellen Kauffman, provide the students 
with the experience of going into a large school 
program and screening the students in order to de- 
termine the speech therapy needs of the children in 
the schools. 

Upon com.pletion of their course work, and 200 
clock hours of supervised clinical practicum in 
speech and hearing therapy, graduates are granted 
a certificate in the State of New Jersey as speech 
correctionists for children in kindergarten through 
12th grade. 

Many of our students go on to earn advanced 
degrees; some are in charge of speech services in 
New Jersey schools, others work in hospital clinics, 
and a few are in private practice. The training 
they received at Montclair State College, so rich in 
subject matter and in practical experience, has 
served them well, and they have earned for them- 
selves professional recognition and deep personal 
satisfaction. 




17 



PREPARING STUDENTS FOR COLLEGE 
IN THE SOCIAL STUDIES 



DAVID NELSON ALLOWAY 

Assistanf Professor, Social Studies 
Monrdair State College 

I have often said that the Social Studies really 
are the most difficult of all of the offerings in the 
curriculum for the very simple reason that they cut 
across so much and by their very nature are sub- 
jective in content and orientation. Thus, the teach- 
ing of them is more of a creative art than it is a 
science which can be dealt with precisely. Perhaps 
some of the problem lies in the fact that there is 
some doubt as to just what the Social Studies are, 
as a result of some recent trends in education which 
have added some rather strange additions to the 
Social Studies program. For our purposes here, we 
will consider only History, Political Science, Eco- 
nomics, Sociology, Anthropology and Psychology 
as constituting them to the exclusion of anything 
else. 

It is great fun to get off into all kinds of un- 
usual experiments in the Social Studies, and these 
can be highly rewarding in their own right, but 
there is the ever-present danger that in the course 
of provoking all kinds of wonderful discussion and 
brilliant scores on objective tests, we may turn out 
academic cripples, if we do not pay careful atten- 
tion to some very basic absolute essentials. Mun- 
dane as it may be, nevertheless, the principal job 
of the secondary level of education is to deal in the 
development of fundamental skills and not to get 
lost in the exotic. Thus, it would seem to be in 
order to indicate what these might be and give 
some indication as to their importance. 



Actually, every well-thought-out Social Studies 
program in the secondary level should make careful 
arrangements to dispose of certain priorities before 
trying to do anything else. These should be the 
absolute indispensables and nothing whatever 
should be allowed to interfere with their accomp- 
lishment. 

First Priority 

1. Effective Communication. This means oral 
and written. It includes framing a coherent sen- 
tence with some element of style to it and the 
ability to say what one means and mean what one 
appears to be saying. 

2. Effective Reading. This means the ability 
to read and interpret what one has read — especially 
in terms of the nuances and implications of the 
material which is so important in a full understand- 
ing of the Social Studies. 

3. Abstract Thought. This means basic mas- 
tery of major concepts and ideas in each of these 
Social Studies and especially the avoidance of cliche 
memorizations in lieu of intelligent discourse on 
them. It also means the ability to deal with and 
handle the theoretical. 

4. Extended Analysis. This means the ability 
to discourse on a question in any of the Social 
Studies studied in essay form which will deal with 
the pros and cons of the matter and the subtleties 
appurtenant to them. This also presumes that care- 
ful thought has preceded discourse. Too much so- 




Dr. Maurice Moffatt, Chairman of the Social Studies Department, emphasizes the need for the in- 
struction in the techniques of original research. 



18 



called analysis is allowed to come from the top of 
the head and glibness gets to be mistaken for pro- 
fundity, fervor replaces authority and prolixity is 
confused with thoroughness and efficacy. 

5. Articulation Between the Social Studies. This 
means the ability to inter-relate the various disci- 
plines within and of one another to understand 
intricate cause and effect relationships. 
Second Priority 

1 . Comprehensiveness. This means that a sub- 
ject is thoroughly taught and one does not merely 
skip lightly around here and there, but it is as 
thoroughly surveyed as possible. And, we must 
remember that all secondary courses really are only 
surveys. The surveys, however, must have organic 
structure and framework and hold together. 

2. Discrimination. This means the ability to 
make choices between conflicting versions of some 
matter and the ability to realize that there is no 
such thing as complete right or complete wrong 
in matters of interpretation (and even about many 
so-called facts). They must be made aware of the 
fact that the printed word may be quite in error, 
thus should they develop a healthy skepticism for 
the illogical and the unusual. 

3. Research Skills. This means the ability to 
know the methods used in the Social Studies land 
as many of them as possible) as well as some prac- 
tice in using them. Especially to be guarded against 
is plagiarism, too-close paraphrasing and single 
source efforts. It would be far better to have them 
do only a very few of these and do them extremely 
well than to have many such efforts done poorly. 
Third Priority 

No matter how poorly equipped a school may 
be, the first two priorities are absolute musts lest 
we turn out academic cripples. In fact, so over- 
whelmingly important are they that if a schoci is 
forced to the hard choice of offering a richer and 
more varied program at the expense of these it 
would be better to concentrate on these and let the 
colleges fill in the information gaps than to ex- 
pect the colleges to act as the remedial agency for 
a secondary system's failure to cover these The 
colleges expect careful attention to these elements 
and a great deal of freshman failure in the Social 
Studies comes about as a consequence of insuffi- 
cient attention to these basics which must take 
precedence over all else. 

The third priority consists of those things which 
will enrich and make more rewarding a high school 



social studies program after the first two priorities 
have been carefully attended to. These are m the 
probable order in which they should be added as 
follows: 

1 Geography and geographical and geo-physi- 
cal concepts. 

2. Basic anthropological theories and ideas 
about man. 

3. Basic psychological findings about man. h.s 
behavior, and the factors and elements about him 
which affect and determine- how he acts. 

4. An understanding of what culture is and 
how It IS formed as well as how it shapes and forms 
the clients of it. 

5. The basic philosophical premises of at least 
western civilization and their relationship to the 
Judeo-Christian ethic and the Hellenistic tradition 

It is not likely that a high school program can 
or should try to do much more than this because 
of the tremendous amount of time and effort which 
must be put in on the first priorities in order that 
they may be well-learned. These few things in 
themselves constitute a considerable program to 
say the least and aside from the third priority items 
fall back squarely on the individual Social Studies 
teacher, who can if he/she will probably accom- 
plish them quite adequately despite the physical 
riches or lacunae of the system upon adequate ex- 
penditure of effort and imagination. This of course 
presumes, however, that the district has not so 
grossly overloaded the staff member that these be- 
come impossible. 

One final thought — discussion in class as 
such is not bad, but bad discussion is inexcusable 
Too many talk before they think. All discussion 
on whatever the subject should be preceded by a 
period of quiet thought first before anyone is al- 
lowed to speak. Class time should be used for this 
reflection. Good teaching includes providing the 
atmosphere for reflection and thought. Too fre- 
quently modern education like many aspects of 
modern life is stridently chatting away without 
saying anything. It might be well if we all kept 
silent more and reflected in silence. Excess chatti- 
ness seems to be a major failing of many freshmen 
in college campuses today. They are always talk- 
ing, but never saying anything. This is a vital skill 
too and as a priority should be all pervasive. 



19 



MEET YOUR ALUMNI SECRETARY! 

Mrs. Helen Rendall, we are most pleased to 
meet you, our new Alumni secretary. 

Mrs. Rendall is a graduate of the University of 
Wisconsin, and she is taking graduate work in col- 
lege administration at Columbia. She assumed 
the position of Alumni Secretary last September. 
For many years, Mrs. Rendall was associated with 
the American Telephone and Telegraph Company 
as a personnel specialist. Bored with retirement, 
she joined the staff at Montclair State College, and 
she has been engaged in a whirlwind of activities 
ever since. 

Mrs. Rendall, what do you think the role of the 
Alumni Association should be? 

The Alumni Association should exist for the 
benefit of the Alumni. It is the objective of the 
Alumni secretary and the executive board to amal- 
gamate the aims and goals of the College and the 
Alumni. 

What specifically is the Alumni Association doing 
for the Alumni and the College? 

The Alumni Association publishes an alumni 
newspaper four times a year, and now we have 
embarked on a new venture, this magazine. The 
Association contributes a considerable sum to the 
College Development Fund. Through our files. 
Alumni are frequently contacted to support other 
college activities. The Alumni homecoming week- 
ends, which are enjoyed by so many, are organized 
and sponsored by this Association. The executive 
committee has frequently made helpful suggestions 
to the administration to improve the training pro- 
gram. Since the College is a state institution, pub- 
lic support is vital to development of this institu- 
tion. The Alumni are the College's staunchest sup- 
porters and a most effective public lobby. If this 
college IS to grow, then, it is up to the alumni to 
make it grow. 

We noticed that you are sitting near the Alumni 
Memorial Library. Could you tell us about this 
library? 

One side of our alumni lounge is lined with 
book shelves. The alumni contribute books or 
money in memory of loved ones. Each book has a 
memorial plate on the inside of the cover. Per- 
sonally, I believe that it is a dignified and fitting 
memorial. The library is growing steadily, and the 
students as well as the alumni are most welcome 
to borrow these books. 



!■ 'nnniiii 




Mrs. Rendall sitting near the Alumni Memorial 
Library. Alumni are invited to contribute a book 
in memory of a loved one. 

This alumni lounge is a most inviting and relaxing 
room. 

It was planned and designed to be. The alumri 
are welcom.e to stop in any time they wish. This 
room is their room. 
What major goal would you say the Alumni 

achieved this year? 

The Alumni Association always hoped that 
someday Montclair State College would be a lead- 
ing cultural and art center for the metropolitan 
area. Now, that we have this magnificent audi- 
torium our goal is being fulfilled. We have had 
concert artists perform, dramatic readings, art 
shows, plays and guest lecturers. Hundreds of 
alumni have attended these performances. These 
cultural activities are enhancing the stature of the 
College, and we hope that the graduates will con- 
tinue to attend these events. 
Are any services being planned for out of state 

alumni? 

Dr. Partridge this year held out of state meet- 
ings in Washington, D. C, and Chicago. These 
meeting were very successful, and others are 
planned for next year. 
Mrs. Rendall, do you have something that you 

would like to tell the alumni? 

Yes. Please help us keep our files up to date. 
When you change your residence, drop us a card 
with your new address. This will enable us to help 
you keep in touch with each other, and to make 
sure you receive your alumni mailings. Also, we 
are most grateful for the many class gifts donated 
to the college. 



23 



MONTCLAIR BOWS TO NO ONE 



By 

DR. RICHARD TEWS 




A Taste of 



Varsity sports have long held a place of im- 
portance at Montclair State College, and their 
values have been recognized by faculty and admin- 
istration and students. These values have been 
achieved over the years, because the program has 
been based on sound educational principles and 
has been held in proper perspective. These are im- 
portant factors for a worthwhile program. The 
values of sports have been so well proven and ac- 
cepted, that today, they are considered as curricu- 
iar rather than extracurricular in most schools. 
This interpretation holds true at MSC. 

To the college, there are certain important 
values that we have seen develop. Among these 
one would certainly have to include school spirit. 
The sports situation at Montclair has had a con- 
siderable effect on school spirit, an effect which 
the college administration has recognized. A good 
sports program also serves as an asset in public re- 
lations for attracting prospective students. The 
success in sports at Montclair is apt to fluctuate 
over the years as there is no possible way of ac- 
cepting any student who is not fully qualified to 
meet all standards for admission and rightly so. 
Success, such as has been achieved in football at 
Montclair recently, has indicated clearly the im- 
pact of strong athletics on prospective students and 
the public generally. Unfortunately, many ether 
excellent programs and achievements of the college 
have no comparable means of receiving public at- 
tention. 

Alumni support is always important to a col- 
lege and to its sports program. At an institution 
such as Montclair, we do not solicit funds for ath- 
letic scholarships or support. We do encourage 
alumni to urge good students to come to Montclair. 
Attracting good students who also are talented ath- 
letically is difficult for a small school without the 
lure of scholarships. There are however, distinct 



Sweet Victory 

advantages in attending such a small, non-scholar- 
ship school. 

First, being a state-supported institution. Mont- 
clair, in essence, subsidizes the education of ail 
students who attend. The estimated annual cost 
per student is $1,000.00 from State funds. The 
low tuition rate does not mean "cheap" education 
Montclair enjoys an excellent reputation for the 
quality of its education and the calibre of its fac- 
ulty and gradutes. 

Grants-in-aid for athletics look very attractive. 
but often constitute only a part of expenses at 
larger institutions. At Montclair, a work-scholar- 
ship program is available equally to all students 
demonstrating need. The program is not unlimited 
but few students, if any, are unable to procure as- 
signments. In this program, students can earn suf- 
ficient funds for tuition and. in some instances, 
room and board, as well. The assignments in work 
scholarship are frequently of such a nature that 
students gain valuable experience in their area of 
specialization. For those participating in athletics, 
such assignments are regularly arranged They in- 
volve service as team managers in off seasons. 
keeping statistical data at games, sports publicity, 
and other similar duties. 

Being a smaller school, Montclair is able to of- 
fer most students an opportunity to participate 
completely in the sports of their choice. Students 
with considerable skill are sometimes unable to 
have gam.e and meet experience in the talent-rich 
scholarship schools. The over-all benefits derived 
from participation at Montclair compare favorably 
with experiences at larger schools, especially if one 
is interested in a future in coaching. 

One of the most heartening and challenging 
things to take place at Montclair in recent years 
has been the rapid and substantial rise in the ad- 
(Continued on Page 23' 



21 



INTENSIVE WAY OF TEACHING 

(Continued from Page 81 

to be called upon to write at home and in the other 
departments of the school. And it allows room for 
teaching, much more sharply, whatever of grammar 
and of rhetoric, of spelling and of punctuation, the 
teacher thinks they should learn. Because the steps 
are all little ones, only perfection need be accepted. 
Let any pupil write ten such compact and intensive 
papers, rewriting until every one is quite perfect, 
and he will be farther down the road toward good 
composition than by a whole year of the rambling 
"themes" he used to write. 



THE BEST JUST GOOD ENOUGH! 

(Continued from Page 9) 

to college. As short a time ago as when the newest 
of our alumni were entering Montclair, better than 
80 per cent of those who applied were usually 
accepted, and it was almost certain that about 85 
per cent of those that were accepted by the College 
would probably come in September. Today, that 
story is much different. For the class beginning in 
September, 1962, it has been necessary to select 
from amongst 2,700 applicants the students who 
will ultimately fill the 625 seats available for fresh- 
men. Unfortunately, the selection is not as simple 
as deciding which of the 2,700 are the best 625 
students. It was necessary this year to invite 1,115 
students to attend Montclair in September in order 
to assure us of the proper size freshman class when 
the new semester rolls around. Interestingly 
enough, we get as many students from amongst the 
top group that we invite as from amongst the stu- 
dents who rank just under them. This is a pretty 
clear indication that the drawing power of Mont- 
clair State College, and this drawing power is in 
direct proportion to the word that is spread 
amongst students of the State by alumni, is con- 
siderable and probably equal to the drawing power 
of most of the colleges with which we compete for 
good students. Processing of applications tomorrow 
for the classes coming to us over the next decade 
is going to be increasingly difficult. Not only are 
the high school classes growing in size, but the 
number of students from these classes desiring a 
college education is increasing out of proportion to 
the number graduating. The favorable position of 
Montclair with respect to cost, to the quality of 
education, and to the increasing desirability of en- 
tering the teaching field means that we are going 
to be getting a larger and larger proportion of the 
students applying for college. This increase in 
number undoubtedly will bring with it a rapidly ex- 
panding diversification of abilities and interests on 
the part of students. This in itself will put a great 



deal of pressure on the College to change its pro- 
gram to accommodate the interests and abilities of 
the students. 

What can the alumni group do to help assure 
the College that this picture will continue to im- 
prove as the years go by? First, active, interested 
alumni are the best messengers of the good will 
extended by the College to the high schools of the 
state and to the students in those high schools. As 
teaching alumni or as alumni interested in educa- 
tion, you can encourage good students from your 
classes to apply to Montclair State. Secondly, you 
can assist us from time to time in evaluating the 
potential teaching ability of the students who in- 
quire of you about the Montclair State College. 
We urge you to render guidance in this connec- 
tion; be sure that the students whom you suggest 
to come to Montclair are the kind of students that 
you would like to have working along side of you 
as a colleague in future years. Thirdly, when you 
have an interest in a student who is applying to 
Montclair, take the trouble to find out whether 
this student has been accepted when the admis- 
sions notices are sent out and encourage him to- 
ward your alma mater. Make sure that he knows 
how strongly you feel about Montclair. 

As the old song suggests, "the rich get rich, 

and the poor get " It is an equal certainty that 

active, interested Montclair alumni will continue 
to furnish the College with increasingly better fu- 
ture alumni. 



SOVIET EDUCATION BETTER? 

(Continued from Page 13) 

stones of modern Soviet education, with the not un- 
heard of effect that the humanities are purely cul- 
tural subjects lag far behind in state support, stu- 
dent enrollment, and popular esteem. The very 
vast majority of students at university level receive 
monthly government stipends ranging from 250 
to 780 rubles (or, from almost total support to rela- 
tively affluent means). There is no "m.oral" obli- 
gation to repay the state in some way for this edu- 
cational aid; the obligation is expressed in flat, 
clear terms. The student is at the disposal of the 
state for three years after he graduates, and in the 
majority of cases, this means being sent to rem.ota 
areas for skilled practical work or for teaching, or 
for both. The bulk of state funds is concentrated 
on the practical subjects, thereby attracting the 
largest number of students to those subjects. Now 
forty per cent of graduates are in engineering alone, 
while seventeen per cent are in the humanities 
(which include law and the social sciences) . The 
success of sputnik has also so intoxicated the gen- 
eral Soviet public that the name "sputnik" is at- 



22 



tached to restaurants, hotels, cinemas, and is made 
into lapel buttons, car-stickers, shrub motifs, etc , 
etc. The average Russian feels that at least his 
nation has proven itself. This tim.e it has not bor- 
rov^ed from the West but has actually made its own 
very significant contribution to human progress. 
The sense of equality and self-esteem that this 
accomplishment has brought about in the Russians 
is one of the hopeful signs for a future abandon- 
ment of a paranoically suspicious and non-coopera- 
tive international policy. At present, the new na 
tional pride has given rise to a very high respect 
in the Soviet Union for science, scientists, student- 
scientists, and the power of learning. 

And so, one may look at Soviet education as a 
phase of national life that contains in microcosm 
all the characteristics of the Soviet form of human 
society as a whole. The achievements and tri- 
umphs are there, along with the unevennesses, er- 
rors, and contradictions of an educational system 
that is imperfectly worked out. It is often applied 
with lack of imagination and heavy hands to local 
conditions that have fundamentally different vari- 
ables, in a vast country where such variables 
abound. The emphasis is on science and practical 
results, and the student body is stampeding to such 
courses because they are politically safe and prom- 
ise the most immediate as well as long-range re- 
wards. For the time being, at any rate, the pursuit 
of the good and the beautiful is sacrificed to the 
pursuit of the useful Some worthwhile results may 
come from it all, but in the troubled educational 
waters of the present tim.e, let us not be tempted 
to go overboard with the same thing here in 
America. 



DEVELOPMENTS IN THE 
SCIENCE CURRICULUM 

(Continued from Page 15' 

book type of experiments has been the aim of both 
groups. Their experimental work includes attempts 
to have the students use the methods of science in 
experimentation. There is a tendency to decrease 
the amount of direction given to the student as he 
becomes more competent in the course. The ex- 
perimental work is more quantitative. The student 
is required to find the answer to a question or prob- 
lem by experiment, not see how close he can come 
to a result that is already known to him. 

The oldest of the new programs is that of the 
Physical Science Study Committee, known as the 
PSSC program. The original intent was to include 
both chemistry and physics but the program evolved 
as a physics course. The course is characterized by 
emphasis on the principles of physics rather than 



technological developments such as the car, radio 
or T.V. The course includes fewer areas of physics 
but the areas are treated in greater depth. Modern 
Physics is an integral part of this course. 

The PSSC has been through several years of 
trial, feed-back and revision. As a result of this, a 
hard cover text has been developed for the course. 
In addition to this, several paper back volumes 
have been developed to extend the frontiers of in- 
formation on various topics beyond the scope of the 
text. An extensive program of films supplements 
the work of the text and the laboratory. The 
laboratory experimentation differs from the tradi- 
tional physics course both in purpose and proced- 
ures. Early attempts to have the instructors con- 
struct much of the laboratory equipment have been 
replaced by having the equipment available com- 
mercially at reasonable prices compared to tradi- 
tional physics equipment. 

Numerous programs have emerged over the 
State to provide for the gifted student in science. 
Evening seminars, some Saturday classes at nearby 
colleges, summer courses with visitation at local 
industries are but a few of the procedures that 
have been used Another session would be needed 
to discuss these experiments in any detail. 

The secondary school science curriculum is 
finally emerging from the "doldrums" in which it 
has floundered for the past 30 years. The efforts 
of the high school teachers, college and university 
professors and scientists are being channeled into 
the developm.ent of new and dynamic science 
courses. Even if these new courses are not accepted 
as a "package", much of the content and materials 
of the courses can be used to enrich the present 
science offerings at the secondary level. 



MONTCLAIR BOWS TO NO ONE 

(Continued from Pjge 2' 

mission scores of incoming students This blessing 
brings a problem to the athletic program in that 
occasionally our alumni recom.mend fine students 
with athletic ability who are not able to gain ad- 
mission. We regret being unable to accept all 
qualified students but facilities simply do not per- 
mit our doing so. Within the framework estab- 
lished by the State, the college utilizes the best 
methods available to select each September's 
freshman. Continued alumni support is solicited. 
The program of sports for women is compre- 
hensive and diversified, and provides all of the 
aforementioned benefits for the distaff portion of 
our student body A future article covering the 
program of the Women's Recreation Association 
would be in order. 



23 




MONTCLAIR 

STATE 

COLLEGE 



1962 



24 



TEARING DOWN OF 
THE MOUNTAIN 




Cone from the hill, my trees 
Softly-leafed In spring, 
Crystal-crowned in snow. 
So many dawns have bled 
Since i heard the mountain sing, 
4n opaline mist, in magical glow. 



M Ji^moth nfichtnes^cannot destifiy 

Veios of mcm-o n|»W|ll^ M » | m, 

In root and steni and'SroMe: 
From lime-encrusted* fragment 
Evolved the salt in my blood*, 
Tke^cells in my bone. 

My^ate, h4ll-high, rock-deep, - 
Slumbered here aeons a^ip, 
To wak^in my'days of desire. 
Now crilmklles tke clay and the mold 
Fledgling fates neod space to grow, 
Feeding on ashes from ancient fire. 



if 

I 



Helen Vitello Nunxio^ilit 



% , 





>w^- 






^ 







/ 



y 




MONTCLAIR 



STATE 

COLLEGE 

DEVELOPMENT FUND 



t>4ww«/ a ^ftaieit ^oUea* 



BOARD OF TRUSTEES 

Paul L. Caffrey, Presidenf 
George C. Bond, Vice-President 
Paul E. Froehlich, Treasurer 
Morris G. McGee, Secretary 
Richard T. Dugan 
Dorothy B. Garland 
E. DeAlton Partridge 
Margot M. Studer 
Raymond S. Veghte 

ADVISORY COMMITTEE 

Hon. Percival F. Brundoge 

Dr. Lillian Gilbreth 

Mr. Scott Harris 

Mr. DeWitt J. Paul 

Hon. Dallas S. Townsend 



June 1, 1962 



M OPEN LETTER TO THE ALUMNI 



Dear Friends: 



You started something a few years ago — the Golden 
Anniversary faculty grants which became the College 
Development Fund. 

Your idea and your support have led to well over 
sixteen thousand dollars in faculty grants, art purchases 
of almost three thousand dollars, and an art exhibit that 
cost almost $3000 that may result in a tremendous gift 
of old masters to our college. Your efforts resulted in 
several excellent Shakespearean productions being brought 
to the college for the students and the people in the 
community. 

You have provided a variety of services that would 
not have been possible except for the generosity of our 
alumni . 

You have set a wonderful example. I sincerely hope 
in the years to come that you will consider the needs of 
Montclair State College paramount and that you w/ill con- 
sider the Montclair State College Development Fund your 
"favorite charity." 

I Sincerely yours, 




Paul L. Caffrey, President 
College Development Fund 



PLC:ps 



GROWING SUPPORT FOR MONTCLAIR STATE 

by DR. E. DeALTON PARTRIDGE 



A state supported college or university, to 
achieve real distinction, must win substantial 
support over and beyond annual appropriations. 
Elected public officials are, and should be ever 
conscious of the need to economize. Appropria- 
tions are nearly always provided on the basis of 
demonstrated needs and fixed formulas. The new, 
the unusual, the creative nearly always succumb 
to the budgetary axe. It is for this reason that 
administrators must develop sources of private 
funds if a college is to rise above the mediocre. 

In addition to the encouraging support of the 
alumni, Montclair State College is enjoying ever 
increasing support from private sources. In re- 
cent years, financial support from the alumni has 
been steadily increasing, not rapidly, but still in- 
creasing. Along with this is increased evidence 
of interest in and willingness to support the col- 
lege and its activities on the part of the general 
public. 

Fund Raising Event 

On March 2, 1963, the Board of the College 
Development Fund sponsored a fund raising eve- 
ning on campus. The activities for this evening 
consisted of a buffet supper followed by the col- 
lege play "The Importance of Being Earnest." 
A committee of alumni, parents, and townspeo- 
ple, combined energies to help make this event a 
success. Tickets sold from $10 to $50 depending 
upon whether one wanted to be a supporter, a 
patron, or a sponsor. 425 people attended the 
buffet and the play. The College Development 
Fund grossed over $6,000 in one evening. 

The New Jersey Center for Economic Edu- 
cation is located at Montclair State College. This 
activity, which employs a full time field director, 
a secretary and part-time economist, is supported 
financially by contributions from industry 
throughout the state of New Jersey. Since Mont- 
clair State College took over this program in 
1956, industry has contributed more than $100,- 
000 to the support of economic education through 
this center. 

In 1962, the college received a grant of $10,- 
000 to promote participation in the course on 
The American Economy offered over the Colum- 
bia Broadcasting System. This special grant has 
enabled the activities of the Center for Economic 



Education to be extended considerably during the 
past year. In addition to this, the Young Presi- 
dents Organization, a national organization of 
young executives, has awarded to the college a 
$12,000 grant to provide $4,000 each year for 
three years to help support the program on eco- 
nomic education. 

Paid attendance at football and basketball 
games increases each year. The public is more 
and more interested in the activities of Montclair 
State College athletic teams and supports them 
financially. 

Round-Table Discussion 

The Bankers National Life Insurance Com- 
pany collaborates with the college in conducting 
a breakfast round-table for businessmen and edu- 
cators each year at which time an outstanding 
program is assembled following the breakfast. 
More than 300 participants attend these break- 
fasts. The program is financially supported by 
the Bankers National Life Insurance Company. 

The number of scholarships available to de- 
serving students — outside the state scholarship 
program — is continually increasing. These 
scholarships vary in size from a few dollars per 
year up to several hundred. They come from in- 
dividuals, groups, and from industry. The Bell 
Telephone Company of New Jersey, for example, 
has given two $300 scholarships for several 
years. Just recently, a group of alumni organ- 
ized a special scholarship for bassoon players. 
These are just examples which give evidence that 
people believe in Montclair State. 

Widespread support for Montclair State Col- 
lege dates from the time when the Life Hall cam- 
paign was set into high gear and a direct appeal 
was made for funds. As a result of this, many 
outstanding individuals became interested in the 
college and have continued to support it since. 

No state college can become a truly great 
college without private assistance over and be- 
yond the budgetary provisions made through pub- 
lic money. Montclair State is only beginning its 
progress in the direction of securing private sup- 
port, but it is hoped that in the years ahead, the 
alumni and the public generally will continue to 
provide the sustenance which will keep Montclair 
State in the vanguard of state institutions. 



AS THE ENGLISH DEPARTMENT LOOKS TO THE FUTURE 




DR. HAKOLD C. BOHN 

Chairman, English Department 



Conscious of the country-wide examination of 
botli high school and college English teaching, 
the Depai-tment of English at IMontclair State 
College is well aware of its responsibility to the 
future. Change is inevitable; effective methods 
of meeting change must be devised ; demands are 
being recognized ; the future will see them satis- 
fied. 

As many alumni, both English and non-Eng- 
lish majors know, the Department of English has, 
from the first years of the College when Edward 
H. Webster was chairman of the Department, 
emphasized an arts approach to English. The 
English faculty is still and will continue to be an 
arts faculty. At the same time, the members of 
the Department are committed, in theory and in 
practice, to the necessity of professionalizing sub- 
ject matter, so that prospective high school teach- 
ers will be better and better prepared to teach 
more and more effectively. Consequently, both 
the English professors and their students must 
keep constantly before them major trends and 
developments in implementing a satisfactory 



English curriculum. \\'hat are some of the areas 
demanding attention? 

A major trend in English, as in all sub.icct- 
matter areas, is i-ecognition of individual differ- 
ences. This self-evident condition demands that 
the teacher have as full a knowledge of subject 
matter and methods as possible in oi'der to meet 
the multiple needs of the students before him. A 
fuller knowledge of subject matter necessitates 
more undergraduate elective courses emphasizing 
subject matter, especially in contemporary litera- 
ture. The Department is well aware of this neces- 
sity and will strive to effect curriculum to meet it. 

Another trend, due partly to increased recog- 
nition of individual differences, is the emphasis 
on extensive reading. The accelerated publica- 
tion of paper backs, making it possible for stu- 
dents to buy books cheaply, has produced a 
"glorious revolution" in high school r^-ading 
habits. Comics have either disappeared or are 
disappearing, the reading of better books has 
been substituted. Since students are i-eading 
widely, teachers, especially English teachers, 



must have read even more widely not merely to 
keep abreast of students but to have the confi- 
dence of a background of depth. Recognizing 
this necessity, members of the English Depart- 
ment are seeking to devise ways and means of 
stimulating greater undergraduate reading both 
within and without courses. For example, Eng- 
lish 304, Literature for Adolescents, a strategic 
course in this area, has been completely revised 
and given a new title to make it as effective as 
it should be. 

As extensive reading is receiving major at- 
tention, so intensive reading has undergone a ma- 
jor shift in emphasis during the last few years. 
The trend is to minimize peripheral matters like 
the mere memorizing of dates and names of pe- 
riods, authors, and works. Not retained by stu- 
dents, such accumulations become verbalizations 
which are a waste of valuable time and effort. 
Since, however, factual knowledge may be nec- 
essary to understand a particular piece of litera- 
ture, the teacher uses biographical and literary 
facts as means to an end and not ends in them- 
selves. Many teachers persist in emphasizing this 
factual matter because its tangibility makes it 
easy to handle in recitation and testing. 

Easily assigned, easily taught, easily tested, it 
requires little effort. The well-prepared teacher 
substitutes for this rigmarole the developing of a 
critical faculty in the students. Although learn- 
ing to be critical of form and content is particu- 
larly necessary for college preparation, it is good 
for all students proportionately because it cre- 
ates impressions that are lasting and it develops 
appreciation that establishes habits of good read- 
ing. Well aware of the validity of this critical 
approach to intensive reading, the English fac- 
ulty is emphasizing more than ever the necessity 
for mastering literature with critical acumen. 

Art of Linguistics 

Another area of high school English demand- 
ing more and more careful teacher-preparation 
is linguistics. How should grammar be taught? 
What is the relationship between knowledge of 
grammar and ability to write? What are struc- 
tural linguistics? How does this approach help? 
What is the relationship between the structural 
approach and the strongly entrenched traditional 
approach? The Department is well aware of the 
cogency of providing answers to these questions. 
Although the Department is proceeding cautious- 



ly, not making any spectacular commitments in 
this area, it is trying to look forward by keeping 
students informed and preparing them to meet 
future demands. 

In addition to applying these professional de- 
mands to academic procedures, the Department 
recognizes other aspects of its development. With 
the expansion of building facilities on the Cam- 
pus and with the renovation of College Hall, the 
English Department is stressing the following 
items : individual faculty offices, so that the bene- 
fits of individual conference can be increased ; 
an English seminar room, so that there may be 
a greater opportunity for the exchange of ideas 
between professor and students on both the un- 
dergraduate and graduate levels; a Department 
library, both literary and professional, so that 
concentrated study can occur at the source ; a col- 
lection of illustrative material, so that the pres- 
entation of subject-matter may be quickly and 
easily enriched; installations to play records, so 
that English majors may have the benefit of such 
aids within the Department. 

Looking Ahead 

Looking ahead, the Department sees the nec- 
essity of providing more challenging course ma- 
terial, especially in the freshman year because 
high school students are entering better and bet- 
ter prepared. The quality of Montclair's entering 
students is so high that many have had in high 
school the equivalent of a college freshman year. 
To this end, this September for the first time all 
incoming students will be given a diagnostic test 
in English composition to discover those for 
whom the required course in composition will be 
unnecessary. These students will be offered a 
course in subject matter that will accent heavily 
independent study producing much writing. As 
requirements in writing are being shaped to meet 
advanced preparation, so will requirements in 
literature be analyzed to satisfy advanced stand- 
ing. 

All of these plans concern largely the under- 
graduate level of instruction. Similarly, the cur- 
riculum of the College High School is being an- 
alyzed, and the whole program of courses on the 
graduate level is being studied. 

Altogether, the English Department is a 
group of hard-working, dedicated people, who 
cooperate to solve current problems and to an- 
ticipate the demands of an ever-expanding fu- 
ture. Their professional and academic motivation 
is a more and more effective Montclair State. 



DOING BUSINESS IS A PLEASURE AT MSC 



by Dr. Louis C. Nanassy 

Professor of Business Education 




A newly revised curriculum, the strengthening 
of its practical business experience requirements, 
and introduction of new courses are among the 
significant developments that are taking place in 
Montclair State's Department of Business Educa- 
tion. Add to these the large number of increa.s- 
ingly high caliber applicants the department has 
been attracting, the greatly improved job-place- 
ment picture, and the many and varied contribu- 
tions the students and faculty are making in the 
profession; and it becomes apparent why the de- 
partment is optimistic and confident of its ability 
to continue to render outstanding service to the 
secondary schools of the state. 

The revised business education curriculum 
that went into effect in September is in line with 
the new state certification for Secondary Business 
Education. Regulations now require that the cer- 
tificate be issued only to persons who have had a 
broad preparation to teach all the business educa- 
tion subjects found in the high school curriculum, 
including the social business subjects, bookkeep- 
ing and accounting, and the secretarial subjects. 



Those not wishing to pursue this comprehen- 
sive program may elect either the secretarial or 
bookkeeping sequences. Both these programs pre- 
pare the candidate to teach also the general busi- 
ness subjects and typewriting. All curricula lead 
to teaching certificates and the Bachelor of Arts 
degree. 

While the State of New Jer.sey requires busi- 
ness education majors to complete three huntired 
clock hours of practical business experience. Mont- 
clair State graduates will have at least four hun- 
dred hours of supervised office and or store work 
experience, scheduled to be completed between 
their junior and senior years. New coui-se off'er- 
ings in the department include Introduction to 
Data Processing, to be given for the first time this 
Spring. 

Forty-nine business education seniors returned 
recently to the campus from as many high schools 
located in all parts of the state. They had com- 
pleted ten weeks of supervised student teaching, 

f Continued on Page 20) 



TRAVEL WITH MONTCLAIR 

by Edgar C. Bye 

Coordinator, Bureau of Field Studies 




Pyramids Sphinx — Memphis, Egypt — July 20, 1962. (Mr. Bye in fez, right center) 



One picture equals a thousand words, one tour 
equals a thousand pictures and a thousand tours 
would be equivalent to a university education. 
With this in mind, Montclair State College for 
thirty years has been giving educational field 
trips to all parts of the United States, to Canada, 
to Mexico, to the Caribbean Islands, and recently, 
around the world and to the South Pacific. Over 
4,000 persons have taken these tours and most of 
them have been teachers. Many have taken sev- 
eral trips in successive years. One person who 
went around the world with Montclair in 1962, 
began taking trips in 1938 when she took the first 
transcontinental United States tour. Is it unrea- 
sonable to assume that such popularity must be 
deserved ? 

In the current year of 1963, Montclair con- 
ducted its Florida Peninsula Field Trip during 
the Easter vacation, April 12-20. The group flew 
to Jacksonville and with the help of a chartered 
bus visited Silver Springs at Ocala, Orlando, 
Cypress Gardens and the Bok Tower at Lake 
Wales, St. Petersburg, the sponge fisheries at 
Tarpon Springs, the Ringling Art Museum and 



the Jungle Gardens at Sarasota, the Thomas A. 
Edison Home at Fort Myers, the Everglades, Mi- 
ami, Palm Beach and St. Augustine. The course 
carried two points of graduate or undergradu- 
ate credit for those who desired it. It cost $285 
for all expenses including tuition but not includ- 
ing meals. Plan now for next Easter. 

For the summer of 1963, Montclair offers two 
unique trips. One is called: "Europe: Focus on 
Education" and will be conducted by Dr. N. Lange. 
Director of Student Teaching. It will cover Eng- 
land, France, Holland, Denmark, Germany, Czecho- 
slovakia, Austria, Italy and Switzerland. The main 
theme will be recent trends in European education 
and Dr. Lange, who was for five years Supervisor 
of Instructional Services in the U.S. Army De- 
pendents' School in Europe, has planned for many 
contacts with schools and educational experts. 
There will also be adequate time for seeing the 
important places of interest in the countries 
visited during the seven week tour. The course 
will yield six graduate or undergraduate credits 

(Continued on Pige SJ 



New Jersey 



Moves Forward 



on Teacher-Board Negotiations 

by FREDERICK W. BRANCA, 30 



Director of Field Service, New Jersey Edudtion Associ.ition 



To have an effective basis for true yugotiations 
between teachers and their boards, the New Jer- 
sey Education Association is urging its heal asso- 
ciations to gain recognition and to meet directly 
with boards in order to agree on policy and re- 
solve teacher grievances. 

New Jersey teachers are taking a major step 
in improving their relations with boards of educa- 
tion. Ways of working and techniques of negotia- 
tion, which have evolved over a long period, are 
now being formalized. 

Last May, the New Jersey Education Associa- 
tion, by vote of its Delegate Assembl.v, adopted 
eight Principles on Teacher - Board Relations. 
With these accepted as a beginning, the Associa- 
tion has carried on discussions to the point where 
we are now ready to consider legislation. This 
would guarantee teachers and their organizations 
the right in every school district to carry on nego- 
tiations with their boards on policy and to resolve 
problems involving individual grievances. 

NJEA has been a pioneer among professional 
associations in this regard. In 1946, it was the 
first state association to establish an oi'ganized 
field service. Its original principles still apply: 
(1) to let the local teachers decide what they 
want to ask for; (2) to seek a long-range solution 
in preference to temporary expedients; (3) to 
avoid antagonisms and friction; and (4) to aim 
always at the welfare of the schools and the chil- 
dren in them. 

Acting under the authority of the State Con- 
stitution, which guarantees public employees the 
right to present their grievances and proposals 
through representatives of their own choosing, 
NJEA field men often act as official spokesmen, 
presenting the teachers' proposals, arguments, 
and suporting information. Such appearances 
usually bring NJEA representatives directly be- 
fore boards as negotiators in private committee 
meetings or as advocates for the teachers in open 
public meetings. 



This appioach has gained the willing accept- 
ance of many board membei-s. increasingly, they 
work with teacher association leaders and NJP2A 
field men the year around to review continually 
employment practices and essential imj)i<)ve- 
ments. 

Now, NJEA is pressing to assure that these 
relationships exist everywhere. Actual adoption 
of agreements between teacher associations and 
their boards will be one step. 

In attempting to speed up the process, NJEA 
is sending local association presidents and school 
administrators sample teacher-board agreements. 
These show how a boaixl can recognize the local 
teacher association for purpose of negotiating 
policy questions when a majority of the teachers 
in the district are represented. They also show 
procedui'es by which individual grievances can be 
appealed through channels, bringing in the assist- 
ance of the local association and XJEA represen- 
tatives. These procedures would carry questions 
on up to the board of education, if necessary, to 
reach a final settlement. 

Four of the most recent boards to giant such 
recognition and agreements with their local 
teacher associations are Fair Lawn, Levittown, 
Union, and Union County Regional. 

Of particular statewide interest this year is 
the work of NJEA with the Newark Teachers A.s- 
sociation in attempting to establish better rela- 
tions between teachers and the board in the state's 
largest city. Last month, the NTA presented 
petitions signed by L700 of the district's 2.800 
teachers supporting NTA's request that the board 
have a single negotiating agent selected to i-epre 
sent the district's teaching staff. 

The petitions are a dramatic follow-up to this 
year's difllcult. but successful salary negotiations 
by NTA. In its initial conversations at private 
meetings with the board, NTA asked a new salary 
scale $500 higher at all levels as the first step 
toward its ultimate salary goal, a scale of $6,000 
to $13,000. 



The board said "No," offered only a $300 in- 
crease in the salary scale and adopted a budget 
with funds limited to that amount. 

Undaunted, NTA and NJEA representatives 
approached Newark's new mayor, Hugh Addoni- 
zio. In a meeting of its own with top city officials, 
NTA pressed for the additional $200 and found 
agreement that $790,000 could be added to the 
school budget to make this possible. 

The board changed its budget. The final New- 
ark salary plan gives $800 raises next year to 
teachers below maximum, and $600 raises to 
teachers at the top. Newark's new minimum will 
be $5,300 for bachelor degree holders. 

This complete, "leave-no-stone-unturned" ap- 
proach is typical of what is happening in NJEA- 
supported teacher appeals throughout the state. 
By having the resources and know-how, NJEA is 
helping teachers in New Jersey school districts 
make significant progress in economic and pro- 
fessional status. These successes are even more 
gratifying when we consider the tremendous fi- 
nancial difficulties imposed on many districts as 
a result of New Jersey's unbalanced reliance on 
property taxes for school support. 

New York Teachers 

New Jersey teachers have been watching their 
fellow-teachers in New York City and have been 
learning some important lessons from their diffi- 
culties with negotiations. While teachers there 
achieved a substantial salary increase last year, 
they also ended with a completely inadequate 
basis for negotiations. The agreement with the 
board no longer allows them to confront the board 
directly but forces them to deal with a board em- 
ployee, who, as personnel negotiator, ranks below 
the assistant superintendent. She is an inter- 
mediary and has no real status or authority to 
make commitments. 

The New York City board also controls the 
time for negotiations and so far this year has 
refused to consider any teacher requests until 
after it knows its budget figures. 

Finally, the agreement which the teachers got 
into last year is filled with qualifying clauses. 
Conditions were promised "subject to administra- 
tive convenience" and "subject to budgetary al- 
lowance." 

Thus, New Jersey teachers are learning that 
to have true negotiations, which respect their 
status as professional persons, there must be a 
procedure by which teacher representatives and 
board of education representatives meet face-to- 
face. They should sit together around a confer- 



ence table as often as necessary. All parties should 
be able to itemize their requests for improve- 
ments, present supporting factual evidence, per- 
suasively argue their cause, and work in good 
faith toward acceptable agreements. In addition 
to requiring these direct meetings with the board, 
it is also significant that NJEA's principles call 
for the top school administrator — the superin- 
tendent — to be involved in all proceedings to 
advise both groups in accordance with his best 
professional judgment. Anyone in New Jersey 
would also assume that effective negotiations 
have to come before budget-making time and that 
upon agreement teachers and the board both 
share the responsibility for defending the dis- 
trict's adopted budget before the public. 

Teacher-Board Impasse 

Finally, New Jersey professional leaders are 
well aware that some means must be found to re- 
solve an impasse in teacher-board negotiations 
when it develops. Such unresolved situations may 
leave teachers no other alternative but to apply 
some sanction. Utah Education Association mem- 
bers this year have had to refuse to renew con- 
tracts because of a statewide stalemate over 
school finance. Last year, California teachers were 
asked not to file applications in a district. In New 
York City, teachers demonstrated the seriousness 
of their situation by actually closing school for 
a day. 

We have only to look at the recent experience 
in the newspaper industry to know that such "last 
resort" efforts, while sometimes the only way for 
persons to maintain their self-respect under im- 
possible conditions, are no guarantee of profitable 
results. 

There must be an alternative for ending such an 
impasse. In its approach to professional negotia- 
tions, the NJEA is calling for third-party ma- 
chinery which will make it possible for teacher 
and board representatives to mediate their differ- 
ences. Included in legislation which NJEA is now 
considering is a section establishing such a media- 
tion service within the State Department of Edu- 
cation to handle problems involving school per- 
sonnel disputes. This bill will specifically prevent 
such issues being handled before the State Labor 
Mediation Board or otherwise becoming entangled 
in restrictive labor I'elations machinery. 

Through this approach, the profession ex- 
pects boards of education everywhere to establish 
reasonable personnel policies which respect the 
importance and dignity of the teacher. We also 

(Continued on Page 8) 




ONTCLAIR STATE 

AKES 

USIC IN ITS 

ODERN MUSIC BUILDING! 



The Music Department of Montclair State 
College moved into its quarter of a million dollar 
building last September. Located just north of 
the Memorial Auditorium, on an imposing site 
overlooking a panorama of New Jersey east to 
New York City, you can see the skyline of Man- 
hattan on a clear day; at night the view is 
breathtaking. The new building contains a mod- 
ern recital hall, an excellent rehearsal room for 
band and orchestra, a large choral rehearsal room 
for the college choirs and the opera workshop, 
16 practice rooms for the use of students, 9 teach- 
ing studios, classrooms, a departmental office, 
and a library-study room which is being equipped 
with the most modern listening facilities. 

W'itli the availability of the new building, the 
students have bi'ought two new fratei-nities to 
the campus: the 200th chapter of Phi ^lu Alpha 
Sinfonia (Lambda IMu Chapter) a national pro- 



fessional music fraternity for men ; and Sigma 
Alpha Iota (Delta Delta Chapter) a natiojial pro- 
fessional music fraternity foi- women. For many 
years, the Music Department has sponsored an 
active chapter of the Music Educators' National 
Conference, in addition, the Music Organizations 
Commission brings to MSC the finest profession- 
al talent available, and helps to underwrite the 
peiformances of the student organizations. Each 
of these groups brings much to the campus musi- 
cal life by oiganizing, picparing. aufl perform- 
ing progiams, recitals, lectuies, festivals, and 
workshops of a highly professional natui'e. 

Music students, upon graduation, are certified 
to teach in the New Jersey school .systems from 
kindergarten through the I'ith grade in eithei- 
a vocal or an instrumental emphasis. Montclair 
State offers to the future classroom music teach- 
er, the finest in teacher education in New Jersey 
and the academic part of the curriculum includes 
liberal arts, humanities and the sciences plus pro- 
fessional education courses. The flemonstration 
high school on the campus is available for regu- 
lar obsei-vation. A four w(H'k supei-vised practice 
teaching course in the field in the Senior year, 
is also a part of the comprehensive curriculum. 




Private instruction in a primary instrument and 
class instruction in a secondary instrument is 
offered. 

The students of the Music Department are 
dedicated young men and women. They are ex- 
tremely busy and work diligently to perfect theii 
musical art. They spend many hours in rehearsal 
and performance for the varied programs and 
recitals for the college. And in addition they com- 
pete satisfactorily in the academic field for 
grades and point averages to meet the high 
standards of Montclair State College. 

The music faculty of Montclair State strives 
to educate the finest classroom music teacher 
possible. The distinguished professors have stud- 
ied at the leading conservatories of the world, 
where they have been recipients of awards, schol- 
arships, fellowships, and prizes : at the American 
Conservatory in Paris, the Santa Cecilia Con- 
servatory in Rome, the Giuseppe Verdi Conserva- 
tory in Milan, the Fontainbleau School of Music 
in France and lecture attendance in London, 
Rome, and Paris, through the Ecole Libre des 
Hautes Etudes, and leading American Conserva- 
tories, Colleges, and Universities. The faculty is 
very active in the musical life of the State of 
New Jersey. They are sought after as soloists, 
conductors, lecturers, and ensemble performers 
throughout the state. They also take active roles 
in those organizations which enhance the im- 
portance of music, and bring the finest in music 
to New Jersey. 

The new music building and enlarged faculty 
may encourage more music electives for the gen- 
eral student of the college and encourage them 
to participate in the performing ensembles. Edu- 
cators of high reputation recognize that music 
study has contributed much to the development 
of scientific and logical approaches to problem 
solving; Dr. Hobart Sommers, of Chicago's pub- 
lic schools, recommends the study of musical in- 
struments for science students and contends that 
learning to play a musical instrument helps to 
develop many desirable qualities, among them: 
concentration, coordination, perseverance, mental 
discipline and cooperation ; Dr. James B. Conant, 
Harvard's former president, believes that music 
should be one of the subjects required of all high 
school students, regardless of intelligence quo- 
tients. 

There has long been a need for a Master of 
Music Education degree program in northern 
New Jersey. Montclair State has such a program 



in the planning stage with prospects of beginning 
implementation in the Fall of 1963. This will be 
welcome relief for the busy music educator who 
now must travel to New York City for such 
study. 

President Partridge has voiced his desire to 
see Montclair State emerge as a center for cul- 
tural activities of all kinds, designed to serve the 
students, the alumni, and the general public. The 
new music building is a step in this direction. 



Travel 



(Continued from P^ge 4) 



and the cost will be $1,199 (based on lower group 
fare rates) including tuition and most meals. 

Another unusual Montclair field trip is entitled 
"Discover the South Seas." It will cover Hawaii, 
Australia, New Zealand, New Guinea, Papua, New 
Caledonia, Isle of Pines, Moorea, Tonga, Samoa 
and Tahiti. It will be led by Edgar C. Bye, Asso- 
ciate Professor of Social Studies and Coordinator 
of the Bureau of Field Studies. The tour will last 
seven weeks and will yield six graduate or under- 
graduate credits. The cost will be $2,870 from 
San Francisco, including tuition and most meals. 
There is a possibility that the price may be re- 
duced for NEA members if the new group rates 
are approved by the U.S. Government. 

Both of these tours will be given by Montclair 
State College in cooperation with the Travel Di- 
vision of the National Education Association 
which has completed all the travel arrangements. 
They may be taken for credit or non-credit and 
all travel-minded people are welcome. After thirty 
years of experience with educational travel we 
can assure everyone that he will not be disap- 
pointed. If interested in any of these three trips, 
write to Edgar C. Bye, Bureau of Field Studies, 
Montclair State College, Upper Montclair, New 
Jersey, for complete information. 



Negotiations 



(Continued from Page 6) 



expect written personnel codes, lunch time for the 
teacher (like everyone else in our society), time 
for the teacher to teach and use his skills, and 
provision for others to do the housecleaning, book- 
keeping, banking and other clerical chores. 

The result, we are sure, will be a teacher hon- 
ored and respected, a public enthusiastic and 
grateful — and best of all a system of education 
in which each and every school child profits. 



8 



FOREIGN LANGUAGE: DEMONSTRATED 
COMPETENCY IS OUR GOAL 



by Dr. Dclvin L. Covey 
Chairman, Foreign Language Department 



The post war era has been marked by the 
emergence of the United States as the leader of 
the non-Communist world. This new role has 
brought more Americans than ever into contact 
with foreign languages and cultures. Through a 
knowledge of the language this contact can de- 
velop into understanding. Certainly understand- 
ing is the need of our times, if mankind is to 
survive and move to higher levels. 

This problem presents a new challenge for 
American education, because it is in American 
schools that the multilingual, internationally-ori- 
ented citizens of tomorrow must be trained. For- 
tunately, educators have realized this new need, 
and the role of foreign languages in American 
education is clearly established. 

The Montclair State College Foreign Lan- 
guage program emphasizes that the study of 
language is a discipline with two major areas: 
the study of language itself, and the understand- 
ing of human behavior. Hence, we feel that it is 
vitally important that teachers of foreign lan- 
guages be adequately prepared. Adequate prep- 
aration means, to us, demonstrated competency — 
not a number of credit hours earned in the field. 
To the end that our students may gain this com- 
petency, our curriculum is under constant review. 
In all courses, where applicable, emphasis is given 
to geography, history, economic and social insti- 
tutions of the countries whose language the stu- 
dent plans to teach. Although the study of the 
culture of a foreign country has been included as 
part of his professional preparation, we urge him 
to avail himself, as often as possible, of the op- 
portunity to travel abroad and to attend those 
functions which offer outstanding opportunities 
for study in this cultural area. For it is only by 
a continuing study that the teacher of a foreign 
language can retain his competency. 

At Montclair State College we offer a major 
of thirty-three credit hours in French, Latin and 
Spanish with a number of elective hours to give 
depth to the program. At the present time almost 
one-sixth of the student body are majors in these 
languages. Obviously this number will increase 
as American educators and public become increas- 



ingly aware of the fad that mkhc and niDn- pcoplf 
must develop a knowledge of language which i)er- 
mits accurate communication. Before Montclair 
State College can meet this challenge we must 
have a considerably largei- staff. Additions to the 
staff must be as adequate in their own prepara- 
tion and in theii- ability to prepare others to leach 
a foreign language as are those cui-rently charged 
with this responsibility. 

Accurate communication which is a goal 
stressed for today's student of foreign language 
implies competency in listening comprehens'on, 
speaking, reading, writing, language analysis and 
culture. The necessity for a highly effective staff 
is obvious. Equally obvious is the fact that classes 
must be restricted in size, if each student is to 
derive maximum l^enefit from his participation. 
Further, faculty members must not be so ham- 
strung with other assignments that they cannot 
spend several hours each week with the students. 
By this practice the student will gain the ability 
to follow closely and with ease all types of stand- 
ard speech on a variety of subjects. In addition 
this closer contact will enable him to appro.ximate 
native speech in vocabulary, intonation and pro- 
nunciation. 

A staff alone will not solve all the problems, 
however. We must have space and ecjuipment. 
The present language laboratory will have to be 
expanded. We will need more classrooms and 
of!ice space. If we are to give our students the 
benefit of our own years of experience, we should 
have a materials and workshop center. Surely 
not the least of our needs is a theatre for lectures. 
demonstrations, plays, concerts. 

As stated above, we feel that our students 
must demonstrate competency in areas other than 
listening, comprehension and speaking. They 
should be able to read with ease and accuracy of 
understanding materials of considerable difficulty. 
They should be able to write with ease of expres- 
sion and some feeling for the style of the lan- 
guage. Because they are preparing for the teach- 
ing of a foreign language we feel that they must 
be able to analyze their language and apply this 
linguistic knowledge to the language-teaching 




Language Laboratory speeds learning process. Lab is open for visitation by language i-eachers. 



situation. Each year finds new methods and new 
techniques. Hence we stress as part of their pro- 
fessional preparation, a mastery of recognized 
teaching methods and the ability to experiment 
with and evaluate new methods and techniques. 

Though our primary object in a single purpose 
institution is the preparation of teachers, we do 
not concentrate on ourselves. We offer a minor 
program in each of the major languages and in 
German. Thus a student from another discipline 
may take a minor in a foreign language and bene- 
fit, to that extent, with our own students in an 
understanding of other people and other cultures 
through a study of their language. In addition 
we offer courses at the elementary and intermedi- 
ate levels for those students who have an interest 
in learning a language but do not have the time 
to pursue this interest in depth. 

Today most institutions of higher learning 
offer a series of courses which are designed to 
enrich the student's general background. The 
foreign language department at Montclair State 
offers a course in the foundations of language for 
this pui-pose. Required of all students, it empha- 
sizes the philological and linguistic aspects of 
language. 

Because one's study in the field of foreign 



language can never cease, we offer graduate work 
in the major languages which may lead to a Mas- 
ter of Arts degree for some students and which 
may provide in-service preparation for others. 
Prior to World War II the graduate program was 
fully operative. During the war years, however, 
the offerings had to be limited. At the present 
time we are in process of reactivating the pro- 
gram so that we may assume our responsibility 
to those teachers in the state who realize, with 
us, that undergraduate preparation is not enough. 
A unique feature of our program is the fact that 
Montclair State College students who have com- 
pleted their third year of undergraduate work 
may go abroad to study at a foreign university 
for a year and apply the credit earned abroad 
to a Master of Arts degree at Montclair after they 
have taken their baccalaureate degree. Scholar- 
ships in the name of Margaret B. Holz are avail- 
able to a limited number of students who wish to 
take advantage of this part of our program. 

As a final comment I re-emphasize the fact 
that we of the Department of Foreign Languages 
are dedicated to the task of preparing teachers of 
foreign language. Preparation — not training — is 
our goal. For training leads to certification which 
is based upon a number of credit hours. This is 
a practice we deplore ! 



10 



NATIONAL SCIENCE FOUNDATION AT 
MONTCLAIR STATE COLLEGE 

By 
DR. MAX A. SOBEL, 47 

Professor of Mathcmafics. Monfclair State College 



Throughout the country today there is a 
growing concern on the part of teachers, admin- 
istrators, and the general public over the emerg- 
ing curriculum in mathematics in our schools. 
This new curricula is in evidence at every level 
from kindergarten through college, and has been 
described as a "revolution" in mathematics. How- 
ever, laymen and teachers alike are asking "\\'hat 
is this fuss all about? Why is revision necessary? 
What is wrong with the mathematics we have 
been studying and teaching all these years?" 

One answer to these questions is that our 
schools have simply not been able to keep up with 



in elementary and secondary .school mathematics 
which had never been taught there befoie. Part 
of the change consists of a unification of topics 
such as teaching plane, solid, and analytic geom- 
etry in the tenth grade. There is less emphasis 
on certain topics, such as computation with loga- 
rithms. There is an increased emphasis on other 
topics, such as the use of absolute value, inequali- 
ties, and proof in secondary algebra. Certain 
unifying concepts are used which pervade all of 
mathematics — such as the concept of a set. 
There is increased attention given in the element- 
ary grades to the rationalization of the funda- 
mental operations. 




the tremendous growth of modern technology-. 
More new mathematics has been discovered in 
the past fiftj' years than all of the preceding cen- 
turies put together! Our school mathematics 
programs need to be changed to meet the needs 
of the second half of the twentieth century. 

It is difficult, if not impossible, to describe the 
nature of change in a few words. Some of the 
change consists of the introduction of new topics 



New textbooks have been written by various 
groups, subsidized in many cases by the national 
government. Thus, for example, the School 
Mathematics Study Group received approximate- 
ly five million dollars in federal giants t<> write 
sample textbooks in grades K through 12 which 
present these various new ideas in the mathe- 
matics curriculum. 

f Continued on Page 24) 



11 



Dr. Gordon, Citation Award Winner, '62 
Reports Progress At Arecibo 




In Spring of 1962, the concrete towers for the world's largest antenna reflector are completed. 

by DR. W. E. CORDON, '39 

Director, Arecibo Ionospheric Observatory, Arecibo, Puerto Rico 



Major construction during the past year at 
Arecibo, climaxed by the raising of the 500 ton 
feed support structure in two large pieces, ad- 
vanced the progress on the world's largest an- 
tenna reflector and clears the way for the last big 
construction item, the installation of the reflector 
surface. 

In the Spring of 1962 the concrete towers (see 
photograph) were finished. By December the tri- 
angular platform had been assembled on the 
ground and raised into position. The platform 
provides a rigid support for the antenna feed. 
The large rotating arm (photograph dated March 
4, 1963) was assembled in the bowl and raised by 



early March 1963. The arm suspended from a 
circular track rotates about a vertical axis to 
provide antenna beam scanning in azimuth. The 
two small structures (photograph dated March 4) 
on the underside of the arm can be moved on 
tracks from the positions shown out to the end 
of the arm. This motion provides antenna beam 
scanning in elevation. 

The bowl and particularly the ring outlining 
the bowl (shown in the spring photograph) 
provide the support for the fixed reflector of the 
antenna. The diameter of the reflector's aperture 
is 1000 feet, the largest under construction, or 
presently planned to our knowledge. The reflector, 



12 



WHAT 
RIGHT 

HAS 
THIS 

MAN... 



HE HOLDS a position of power equaled by few occu- 
pations in our society. 

His influence upon the rest of us and upon our 
children js enormous. 

His place in society is so critical that no totali- 
tarian state would (or does) trust him fully. Yet in 
our country his fellow citizens grant him a greater 
degree of freedom than they grant even to them- 
selves. 

He is a college teacher. It would be difficult to 
exaggerate the power that he holds. 

► He originates a large part of our society's new 
ideas and knowledge. 

► He is the interpreter and disseminator of the 
knowledge we have inherited from the past. 

► He makes discoveries in science that can both 
kill us and heal us. 

► He develops theories that can change our eco- 
nomics, our politics, our social structures. 

► As the custodian, discoverer, challenger, tester, 
and interpreter of knowledge he then enters a class- 
room and tells our young people what he knows — or 
what he thinks he knows — and thus influences the 
thinking of millions. 

What right has this man to such power and in- 
fluence? 

Who supervises him, to whom we entrust so 
much? 

Do we the people? Do we, the parents whose 
children he instructs, the regents or trustees whose 
institutions he staffs, the taxpayers and philan- 
thropists by whose money he is sustained? 

On the contrary: We arm him with safeguards 
against our doing so. 

What can we be thinking of, to permit such a 
system as this? 




Copyright 1963 by Ediloriai ProjtcU for EdueatioH 



m 




Uowinn iHosiC a"<^ disseminating them, is a 
naVing lUCdd, ^^^^^ business, it has always 

been so— and therein lies a strange paradox. The march 
of civilization has been quick or slow in direct ratio to 



the production, testing, and acceptance of ideas; yet 
virtuaUy aU great ideas were opposed when they were 
introduced. Their authors and teachers have been cen- 
sured, ostracized, exiled, martyred, and crucified— 




usually because the ideas clashed with an accepted set Even in the Western world, although methods of pun- 

of beUefs or prejudices or with the interests of a ruler ishment have been refined, the propagator of a new 

or privileged class. idea may find himself risking his social status, his politi- 

Are we wiser and more receptive to ideas today? cal acceptabihty, his job, and hence his very livelihood. 



For the teacher: special 
risks, special rights 



NORMALLY, in our society, we are wary of per- 
sons whose positions give them an oppor- 
tunity to exert unusual power and influence. 

But we grant the college teacher a degree of 
freedom far greater than most of the rest of us 
enjoy. 

Our reasoning comes from a basic fact about our 
civihzation: 

Its vitality flows from, and is sustained by, ideas. 

Ideas in science, ideas in medicine, ideas in poli- 
tics. Ideas that sometimes rub people the wrong 
way. Ideas that at times seem pointless. Ideas that 
may alarm, when first broached. Ideas that may be 
so novel or revolutionary that some persons may 
propose that they be suppressed. Ideas — all sorts — 
that provide the sinews of our civilization. 

They will be disturbing. Often they will irritate. 

But the more freely they are produced — and the 
more rigorously they are tested— the more surely 
wiU our civilization stay alive. 

THIS IS THE THEORY. Applying it, man has de- 
veloped institutions for the specific purpose of 
incubating, nourishing, evaluating, and spread- 
ing ideas. They are our colleges and universities. As 
their function is unique, so is the responsibility with 
which we charge the man or woman who staffs them. 

We give the college teacher the professional duty 
of pursuing knowledge — and of conveying it to oth- 
ers — with complete honesty and open-mindedness. 
We tell him to find errors in what we now know. 
We tell him to plug the gaps in it. We tell him to 
add new material to it. 

We tell him to do these things without fear of the 
consequences and without favor to any interest save 
the pursuit of truth. 

We know — and he knows — that to meet this re- 
sponsibility may entail risk for the college teacher. 
The knowledge that he develops and then teaches to 
others will frequently produce ground-shaking re- 
sults. 

It will lead at times to weapons that at the press 
of a button can erase human lives. Conversely, it 
will lead at other times to medical miracles that 
will save human lives. It may unsettle theology, as 




did Darwinian biology in the late 1800's, and as did 
countless other discoveries in earlier centuries. Con- 
versely, it may confirm or strengthen the elements 
of one's faith. It will produce intensely personal 
results: the loss of a job to automation or, con- 
versely, the creation of a job in a new industry. 

Dealing in ideas, the teacher may be subjected to 
strong, and at times bitter, criticism. It may come 
from unexpected quarters: even the man or woman 
who is well aware that free research and education 
are essential to the common good may become 
understandably upset when free research and edu- 
cation affect his own livehhood, his own customs, 
his own beliefs. 

And, under stress, the critics may attempt to 
coerce the teacher. The twentieth century has its 
own versions of past centuries' persecutions: social 
ostracism for the scholar, the withdrawal of finan- 
cial support, the threat of pohtical sanctions, an 
attempt to deprive the teacher of his job. 

Wherever coercion has been widely applied — in 
Nazi Germany, in the Soviet Union — the develop- 
ment of ideas has been seriously curtailed. Were 



such coercion to succeed here, the very sinews of our 
civilization would be weakened, leaving us without 
strength. 

WE RECOGNIZE these facts. So we have de- 
veloped special safeguards for ideas, by 
developing special safeguards for him who 
fosters ideas: the college teacher. 



We have developed these safeguards in the calm 
(and civilized) reaUzation that they are safeguards 
against our own imjjetuousness in times of stress. 
They are a declaration of our willingness to risk the 
consequences of the scholar's quest for truth. TTiey 
are, in short, an expression of our belief tliat we 
should seek the truth because the truth, in time, 
shall make us free. 



What the teacher's 
special rights consist of 



THE SPECIAL FREEDOM that we grant to a 
college teacher goes beyond anything guaran- 
teed by law or constitution. 

As a citizen like the rest of us, he has the right 
to speak critically or unpopularly without fear of 
governmental reprisal or restraint. 

As a teacher enjoying a special freedom, however, 
he has the right to speak without restraint not only 
from government but from almost any other source, 
including his own employer. 

Thus — although he draws his salary from a col- 
lege or university, holds his title in a college or 
university, and does his work at a college or uni- 
versity ^he has an independence from his employer 
which in most other occupations would be denied 
to him. 

Here are some of the rights he enjoys: 

► He may, if his honest thinking dictates, expound 
views that clash with those held by the vast ma- 
jority of his fellow countrymen. He will not be 
restrained from doing so. 

► He may, if his honest thinking dictates, pub- 
hcly challenge the findings of his closest colleagues, 
even if they outrank him. He will not be restrained 
from doing so. 

► He may, if his honest thinking dictates, make 
statements that oppose the views of the president 
of his college, or of a prominent trustee, or of a 
generous benefactor, or of the leaders of the state 
legislature. No matter how much pain he may bring 
to such persons, or to the college administrators 
entrusted with maintaining good relations with 
them, he will not be restrained from doing so. 

Such freedom is not written into law. It exists 
on the college campus because (1) the teacher claims 



and enforces it and (2) the public, although wincing 
on occasion, grants the validity of the teacher's 
claim. 

WE GRANT the teacher this special freedom 
for our own benefit. 
Although "orthodox" critics of educa- 
tion frequently protest, there is a strong experi- 
mental emphasis in college teaching in this country. 
This emphasis owes its existence to several in- 
fluences, including the utihtarian nature of our 
society; it is one of the ways in which our inatitu- 




mmM 




tions of higher education differ from many in 
Europe. 

Hence we often measure the effectiveness of our 
colleges and universities by a pragmatic yardstick: 
Does our society derive a practical benefit from 
their practices? 

The teacher's special freedom meets this test. 
The unfettered mind, searching for truth in science, 
in philosophy, in social sciences, in engineering, in 
professional areas — and then teaching the findings 
to millions — has produced impressive practical re- 
sults, whether or not these were the original ob- 
jectives of its search: 

The technology that produced instruments of 
victory in World War II. The sciences that have 
produced, in a matter of decades, incredible gains 
in man's struggle against disease. The science and 
engineering that have taken us across the threshold 
of outer space. The dazzling progress in agricultural 
productivity. The damping, to an unprecedented 
degree, of wild fluctuations in the business cycle. 
The appearance and application of a new architec- 
ture. The development of a "scientific approach" in 
the management of business and of labor unions. 
The ever-increasing maturity and power of our 
historians, literary critics, and poets. The gradua- 
tion of hundreds of thousands of college-trained 
men and women with the wit and skill to learn and 
broaden and apply these things. 

Would similar results have been possible without 
campus freedom? In moments of national panic (as 
when the Russians appear to be outdistancing us in 
the space race), there are voices that suggest that 
less freedom and more centrahzed direction of our 
educational and research resources would be more 
"efficient." Disregard, for a moment, the fact that 
such contentions display an appalling ignorance 
and indifference about the fundamental philosophies 
of freedom, and answer them on their own ground. 



Weighed carefully, the evidence seems generally to 
support the contrary view. Freedom does work — 
quite practically. 

Many point out that there are even more im- 
portant reasons for supporting the teacher's special 
freedom than its practical benefits. Says one such 
person, the conservative writer Russell Kirk: 

"I do not beheve that academic freedom deserves 
preservation chiefly because it 'serves the commu- 
nity,' although this incidental function is important. 
I think, rather, that the principal importance of 
academic freedom is the opportunity it affords for 
the highest development of private reason and im- 
agination, the improvement of mind and heart by 
the apprehension of Truth, whether or not that de- 
velopment is of any immediate use to 'democratic 
society'." 

The conclusion, however, is the same, whether the 
reasoning is conducted on practical, philosophical, 
or religious grounds — or on all three: The unusual 
freedom claimed by (and accorded to) the college 
teacher is strongly justified. 

"This freedom is immediately apphcable only to a 
limited number of individuals," says the statement 
of principles of a professors' organization, "but it is 
profoundly important for the public at large. It safe- 
guards the methods by which we explore the un- 
known and test the accepted. It may afford a key to 
open the way to remedies for bodily or social ills, or 
it may confirm our faith in the familiar. Its preser- 
vation is necessary if there is to be scholarship in 
any true sense of the word. The advantages accrue 
as much to the public as to the scholars themselves." 

Hence we give teachers an extension of freedom^ 
academic freedom — that we give to no other group 
in our society: a special set of guarantees designed to 
encourage and insure their boldness, their forth- 
rightness, their objectivity, and (if necessary) their 
criticism of us who maintain them. 




The idea works most 
of the time, but . . . 



■ IKE MANY good theories, this one works for 
I most of the time at most colleges and uni- 
^^ versities. But it is subject to continual 
stresses. And it suffers occasional, and sometimes 
spectacular, breakdowns. 

If past experience can be taken as a guide, at this 
very moment: 

► An alumnus is composing a letter threatening to 
strike his alma mater from his will unless the insti- 
tution removes a professor whose views on some 
controversial issue — in economics? in genetics? in 
pohtics? — the alumnus finds objectionable. 

► The president of a college or university, or one 
of his aides, is composing a letter to an alumnus in 
which he tries to explain why the institution cannot 
remove a professor whose views on some controver- 
sial issue the alumnus finds objectionable. 

► A group of hberal legislators, aroused by reports 
from the campus of their state university that a 
professor of economics is preaching fiscal conserva- 
tism, is debating whether it should knock some 
sense into the university by cutting its appropria- 
tion for next year. 

► A group of conservative legislators is aroused by 
reports that another professor of economics is 
preaching fiscal liberalism. This group, too, is con- 
sidering an appropriation cut. 

► The president of a college, faced with a budget- 
ary crisis in his biology department, is pondering 
whether or not he should have a heart-to-heart chat 
with a teacher whose views on fallout, set forth in a 
letter to the local newspaper, appear to be scaring 
away the potential donor of at least one million 
dollars. 

► The chairman of an academic department, still 
smarting from the criticism that two colleagues lev- 
eled at the learned paper he delivered at the de- 
partmental seminar last week, is making up the new 
class schedules and wondering why the two up- 
starts wouldn't be just the right persons for those 
7 a.m. classes which increased enrollments will ne- 
cessitate next year. 

► The educational board of a rehgious denomina- 
tion is wondering why it should continue to permit 
the employment, at one of the colleges under its 



,7sr>5frA 




control, of a teacher of religion who is openly ques- 
tioning a doctrinal pronouncement made recently 
by the denomination's leadership. 
► The managers of an industrial complex, worried 
by university research that reportedly is linking 
their product with a major health problem, are won- 
dering how much it might cost to sponsor university 
research to show that their product is not the cause 
of a major health problem. 

Pressures, inducements, threats: scores of exam- 
ples, most of them never publicized, could be cited 
each year by our colleges and universities. 

In addition there is philosophical opposition to 
the present concept of academic freedom by a few 
who sincerely believe it is wrong. ("In the last 
analysis," one such critic, William F. Buckley, Jr., 
once wrote, "academic freedom must mean the 
freedom of men and women to supervise the educa- 
tional activities and aims of the schools they oversee 
and support.") And, considerably less important 
and more frequent, there is opposition by emotion- 
aUsts and crackpots. 

Since criticism and coercion do exist, and since 
academic freedom has virtually no basis in law, how 
can the college teacher enforce his claim to it? 



In the face of pressures, 
how the professor stays free 



IN THE mid-1800's, many professors lost their jobs 
over their views on slavery and secession. In the 
1870's and '80's, many were dismissed for their 
views on evolution. Near the turn of the century, a 
number lost their jobs for speaking out on the issue 
of Free Silver. 

The trend alarmed many college teachers. Until 
late in the last century, most teachers on this side 
of the Atlantic had been mere purveyors of the 
knowledge that others had accumulated and written 
down. But, beginning around 1870, many began to 
perform a dual function: not only did they teach, but 
they themselves began to investigate the world 
about them. 

Assumption of the latter role, previously per- 
formed almost exclusively in European universi- 
ties, brought a new vitality to our campuses. It also 
brought perils that were previously unknown. As 
long as they had dealt only in ideas that were clas- 
sical, generally accepted, and therefore safe, teach- 
ers and the institutions of higher learning did little 
that might offend their governing boards, their 
alumni, the parents of their students, the public, 
and the state. But when they began to act as in- 
vestigators in new areas of knowledge, they found 
themselves affecting the status quo and the inter- 
ests of those who enjoyed and supported it. 

And, as in the secession, evolution, and silver con- 
troversies, retaliation was sometimes swift. 

In 1915, spurred by their growing concern over 
such infringements of their freedom, a group of 
teachers formed the American Association of Uni- 
versity Professors. It now has 52,000 members, in 
the United States and Canada. For nearly half a 
century an AAUP committee, designated as "Com- 
mittee A," has been academic freedom's most active 
— and most effective — defender. 

THE AAUP's defense of academic freedom is 
based on a set of principles that its members 
have developed and refined throughout the or- 
ganization's history. Its current statement of these 
principles, composed in collaboration with the As- 
sociation of American Colleges, says in part: 

"Institutions of higher education are conducted 



for the common good and not to further the interest 
of either the individual teacher or the institution as 
a whole. The common good depends upon the free 
search for truth and its free exposition." 

The statement spells out both the teacher's rights 
and his duties: 

"The teacher is entitled to full freedom in re- 
search and in the pubUcation of the results, subject 
to the adequate performance of his other academic 
duties . . . 

"The teacher is entitled to freedom in the class- 
room in discussing his subject, but he should be 
careful not to introduce . . . controversial matter 
which has no relation to his subject . . . 

"The college or university teacher is a citizen, a 
member of a learned profession, and an oflBcer of an 
educational institution. When he speaks or writes as 
a citizen, he should be free from institutional censor- 
ship or discipline, but his special position in the 
community imposes special obligations. As a man of 
learning and an educational officer, he should re- 
member that the pubhc may judge his profession 
and his institution by his utterances. Hence he 
should at all times be accurate, should exercise ap- 
propriate restraint, should show respect for the 
opinions of others, and should make every effort to 
indicate that he is not an institutional spokesman." 

How CAN such claims to academic freedom be 
enforced? How can a teacher be protected 
against retahation if the truth, as he finds it 
and teaches it, is unpalatable to those who employ 
him? 

The American Association of University Profes- 




sors and the Association of American Colleges have 
formulated this answer: permanent job security, or 
tenure. After a probationary period of not more than 
seven years, agree the AAUP and the AAC, the 
teacher's services should be terminated "only for 
adequate cause." 

If a teacher were dismissed or forced to resign 
simply because his teaching or research offended 
someone, the cause, in AAUP and AAC terms, 
clearly would not be adequate. 

The teacher's recourse? He may appeal to the 
AAUP, which first tries to mediate the dispute with- 
out publicity. Failing such settlement, the AAUP 
conducts a full investigation, resulting in a full re- 
port to Committee A. If a violation of academic 
freedom and tenure is found to have occurred, the 
committee publishes its findings in the association's 
Bulletin, takes the case to the AAUP membership, 
and often asks that the offending college or univer- 
sity administration be censured. 



So effective is an AAUP vote of censure that most 
college administrators will go to great lengths to 
avoid it. Although the AAUP d(x,'s not engage in 
boycotts, many of it.s members, as well as others in 
the academic profession, will not accept jobs in cen- 
sured institutions. Donors of funds, including many 
philanthropic foundations, undoubtedly are influ- 
enced; so are many parents, students, alumni, and 
present faculty members. Other organizations, such 
as the American Association of University Women, 
will not recognize a college on the AAUP's censure 
list. 

As the present academic year began, eleven insti- 
tutions were on the AAUP's list of censured admin- 
istrations. Charges of infringements of academic 
freedom or tenure were being investigated on four- 
teen other campuses. In the past three years, seven 
institutions, having corrected the situations which 
had led to AAUP action, have been removed from 
the censure category. 



Has the teacher's freedom 
no limitations? 



How SWEEPING is the freedom that the college 
teacher claims? 
Does it, for example, entitle a member of the 
faculty of a church-supported college or university 
openly to question the existence of God? 

Does it, for example, entitle a professor of botany 
to use his classroom for the promulgation of political 
beliefs? 

Does it, for example, apply to a Communist? 
There are those who would answer some, or all, 
such questions with an unqualified Yes. They would 



-w?5^ 




argue that academic freedom is absolute. They 
would say that any restriction, however it may be 
rationalized, effectively negates the entire academic- 
freedom concept. "You are either free or not free," 
says one. "There are no halfway freedoms." 

There are others — the American Association of 
University Professors among them — who say that 
freedom can be limited in some instances and, by 
definition, is limited in others, without fatal damage 
being done. 

Restrictions at church-supported 
colleges and universities 

The AAUP-AAC statement of principles of aca- 
demic freedom implicitly allows religious restric- 
tions: 

"Limitations of academic freedom becau.se of re- 
ligious or other aims of the institution should be 
clearly stated in writing at the time of [the teacher's) 
appointment . . ." 

Here is how one church-related university (Prot- 



estant) states such a "limitation" to its faculty 
members: 

"Since X University is a Christian institution 
supported by a religious denomination, a member of 
its faculty is expected to be in sympathy with the 
university's primary objective — to educate its stu- 
dents within the framework of a Christian culture. 
The rights and privileges of the instructor should, 
therefore, be exercised with discretion and a sense of 
loyalty to the supporting institution . . . The right of 
dissent is a correlative of the right of assent. Any 
undue restriction upon an instructor in the exercise 
of this function would foster a suspicion of intoler- 
ance, degrade the university, and set the supporting 
denomination in a false light before the world." 

Another church-related institution (Roman Cath- 
olic) tells its teachers: 

"While Y College is operated under Catholic aus- 
pices, there is no regulation which requires all mem- 
bers of the faculty to be members of the Catholic 
faith. A faculty member is expected to maintain a 
standard of Life and conduct consistent with the phi- 
losophy and objectives of the college. Accordingly, 
the integrity of the college requires that all faculty 
members shall maintain a sympathetic attitude to- 
ward Catholic beliefs and practices, and shall make 
a sincere effort to appreciate these beliefs and prac- 
tices. Members of the faculty who are Catholic are 
expected to set a good example by the regular prac- 
tice of Catholic duties." 

A teacher's "competence" 

By most definitions of academic freedom, a teach- 
er's rights in the classroom apply only to the field in 
which he is professionally an expert, as determined 
by the credentials he possesses. They do not extend 
to subjects that are foreign to his specialty. 

". . . He should be careful," says the American 
Association of University Professors and the Asso- 
ciation of American Colleges, "not to introduce into 
his teaching controversial matter which has no re- 
lation to his subject." 

Hence a professor of botany enjoys an undoubted 
freedom to expound his botanical knowledge, how- 
ever controversial it might be. (He might discover, 
and teach, that some widely consumed cereal grain, 
known for its energy-giving properties, actually is of 
Uttle value to man and animals, thus causing con- 
sternation and angry outcries in Battle Creek. No 
one on the campus is likely to challenge his right to 
do so.) He probably enjoys the right to comment, 
from a botanist's standpoint, upon a conservation 
bill pending in Congress. But the principles of aca- 
demic freedom might not entitle the botanist to take 




a classroom stand on, say, a bill dealing with traflBc 
laws in his state. 

As a private citizen, of course, off the college cam- 
pus, he is as free as any other citizen to speak on 
whatever topic he chooses — and as liable to criti- 
cism of what he says. He has no special privileges 
when he acts outside his academic role. Indeed, the 
AAUP-AAC statement of principles suggests that 
he take special pains, when he speaks privately, not 
to be identified as a spokesman for his institution. 

HENCE, at least in the view of the most influen- 
tial of teachers' organizations, the freedom of 
the college teacher is less than absolute. But 
the hmitations are estabhshed for strictly defined 
purposes: (1) to recognize the religious auspices of 
many colleges and universities and (2) to lay down 
certain ground rules for scholarly procedure and con- 
duct. 

In recent decades, a new question has arisen to 
haunt those who would define and protect academic 
freedom: the problem of the Communist. When it 
began to be apparent that the Communist was not 
simply a member of a poUtical party, willing (Hke 
other political partisans) to submit to established 
democratic processes, the question of his eligibility 
to the rights of a free college teacher was seriously 
posed. 

So pressing — and so worrisome to our colleges 
and universities — has this question become that a 
separate section of this report is devoted to it. 



The Communist: 
a special case? 



SHOULD A Communist Party member enjoy the 
privileges of academic freedom? Should he be 
permitted to hold a position on a college or 
university faculty? 

On few questions, however "obvious" the answer 
may be to some persons, can complete agreement 
be found in a free society. In a group as conditioned 
to controversy and as insistent upon hard proof as 
are college teachers, a consensus is even more rare. 

It would thus be a miracle if there were agree- 
ment on the rights of a Communist Party member 
to enjoy academic privileges. Indeed, the miracle 
has not yet come to pass. The question is still 
warmly debated on many campuses, even where 
there is not a Communist in sight. The American 
Association of University Professors is still in the 
process of defining its stand. 

The difficulty, for some, lies in determining 
whether or not a communist teacher actually propa- 
gates his beliefs among students. The question is 
asked. Should a communist gym instructor, whose 
utterances to his students are confined largely to 
the hup-two-three-four that he. chants when he 
leads the calisthenics drill, be summarily dismissed? 
Should a chemist, who confines his campus activities 
solely to chemistry? Until he overtly preaches com- 
munism, or permits it to taint his research, his 
writings, or his teaching (some say) , the Communist 
should enjoy the same rights as all other faculty 
members. 

Others — and they appear to be a growing num- 
ber — have concluded that proof of Communist 
Party membership is in itself sufficient grounds for 
dismissal from a college faculty. 

To support the argument of this group, Professor 
Arthur O. Lovejoy, who in 1913 began the move- 
ment that led to the establishment of the AAUP, 
has quoted a statement that he wrote in 1920, long 
before communism on the campus became a lively 
issue: 

"Society ... is not getting from the scholar the 
particular service which is the principal raison 
d'etre of his caUing, unless it gets from him his 
honest report of what he finds, or believes, to be 
true, after careful study of the problems with which 



he deals. Insofar, then, as faculties are made up of 
men whose teachings express, not the results of their 
own research and reflection and that of their fellow- 
specialists, but rather the opinions of other men — 
whether holders of public office or private p)erson8 
from whom endowments are received- just so far 
are colleges and universities perverted from their 
proper function ..." 

(His statement is the more piertinent. Professor 
Lovejoy notes, because it was originally the basis 
of "a criticism of an American college for accepting 
from a 'capitalist' an endowment for a special pro- 
fessorship to be devoted to showing 'the fallacies of 
sociaHsm and kindred theories and practices.' I 
have now added only the words 'holders of public 
office.' ") 

Let us quote Professor Lovejoy at some length, 
as he looks at the communist teacher today: 

"It is a very simple argument; it can best be put, 
in the logician's fashion, in a series of numbered 
theorems: 

"1. Freedom of inquiry, of opinion, and of teach- 
ing in universities is a prerequisite, if the academic 
scholar is to perform the proper function of his 
profession. 

"2. The Communist Party in the United States 
is an organization whose aim is to bring about the 
establishment in this country of a political as well 
as an economic system essentially similar to that 
which now exists in the Soviet Union. 

"3. That system does not permit freedom of in- 
quiry, of opinion, and of teaching, either in or 
outside of universities; in it the political govern- 
ment claims and exercises the right to dictate to 
scholars what conclusions they must accept, or at 
least profess to accept, even on questions lying 
within their own specialties— for example, in philos- 
ophy, in history, in aesthetics and literary criticism, 
in economics, in biology. 

"4. A member of the Communist Party is there- 
fore engaged in a movement which has already ex- 
tinguished academic freedom in many countries and 
would if it were successful here- result in the 
abolition of such freedom in American universities. 

"5. No one, therefore, who desires to maintain 




academic freedom in America can consistently favor 
that movement, or give indirect assistance to it by 
accepting as fit members of the faculties of uni- 
versities, persons who have voluntarily adhered to 
an organization one of whose aims is to abolish 
academic freedom. 

"Of these five propositions, the first is one of 
principle. For those who do not accept it, the con- 
clusion does not follow. The argument is addressed 
only to those who do accept that premise. The 
second, third, and fourth propositions are state- 
ments of fact. I submit that they cannot be honestly 
gainsaid by any who are acquainted with the 
relevant facts . . . 

"It will perhaps be objected that the exclusion of 
communist teachers would itself be a restriction 
upon freedom of opinion and of teaching — viz., of 
the opinion and teaching that intellectual freedom 
should be abohshed in and outside of universities; 
and that it is self-contradictory to argue for the 
restriction of freedom in the name of freedom. The 
argument has a specious air of logicality, but it is 
in fact an absurdity. The believer in the indis- 
pensability of freedom, whether academic or politi- 



cal, is not thereby committed to the conclusion that 
it is his duty to facihtate its destruction, by placing 
its enemies in strategic positions of power, prestige, 
or influence . . . The conception of freedom is not 
one which implies the legitimacy and inevitability 
of its own suicide. It is, on the contrary, a concep- 
tion which, so to say, defines the Umit of its own 
appUcability; what it implies is that there is one 
kind of freedom which is inadmissible — the freedom 
to destroy freedom. The defender of Hberty of 
thought and speech is not morally bound to enter 
the fight with both hands tied behind his back. And 
those who would deny such freedom to others, if 
they could, have no moral or logical basis for the 
claim to enjoy the freedom which they would deny . . . 
"In the professional code of the scholar, the man 
of science, the teacher, the first commandment is: 
Thou shalt not knowingly misrepresent facts, nor 
tell lies to students or to the public. Those who not 
merely sometimes break this commandment, but 
repudiate any obligation to respect it, are obviously 
disqualified for membership in any body of investi- 
gators and teachers which maintains the elementary 
requirements of professional integrity. 



"To say these things is not to say that the eco- 
nomic and even the political doctrines of commu- 
nism should not be presented and freely discussed 
within academic walls. To treat them simply as 
'dangerous thought,' with which students should 
not be permitted to have any contact, would give 
rise to a plausible suspicion that they are taboo 
because they would, if presented, be all too con- 
vincing; and out of that suspicion young Commu- 
nists are bred. These doctrines, moreover, are his- 
torical facts; for better or worse, they play an 
immense part in the intellectual and pohtical con- 
troversies of the present age. To deny to students 
means of learning accurately what they are, and of 
reaching informed judgments about them, would 
be to fail in one of the major pedagogic obligations 
of a university — to enable students to understand 
the world in which they will live, and to take an 
intelligent part in its affairs ..." 

IF EVERY COMMUNIST admitted he belonged to the 
party — or if the public, including college teachers 
and administrators, somehow had access to party 
membership lists — such a policy might not be diffi- 
cult to apply. In practice, of course, such is not the 
case. A two-pronged danger may result: (1) we may 
not "spot" all Communists, and (2) unless we are 
very careful, we may do serious injustice to persons 
who are not Communists at all. 

What, for example, constitutes proof of Commu- 
nist Party membership? Does refusal to take a 
loyalty oath? ( Many ;ion-Communists, as a matter 
of principle, have declined to subscribe to "dis- 
criminatory" oaths — oaths required of one group 
in society, e.g., teachers, but not of others.) Does 



invoking the Fifth Amendment? Of some 200 dis- 
missals from college and university faculties in the 
past fifteen years, where communism was an issue, 
according to AAUP records, most were on grounds 
such as these. Only a handful of teachers were in- 
controvertibly proved, either by their own admi.ssion 
or by other hard evidence, to be Communist Party 
members. 

Instead of relying on less-than-conclusive evi- 
dence of party membership, say some observers, 
we would be wiser — and the results would be surer — 
if we were to decide each case by determining 
whether the teacher has in fact violated his trust. 
Has he been intellectually dishonest? Has he mis- 
stated facts? Has he published a distorted bibli- 
ography? Has he preached a party line in his class- 
room? By such a determination we would be able 
to bar the practicing Communist from our campuses, 
along with all others guilty of academic dishonesty 
or charlatanry. 

How can the facts be established? 

As one who holds a position of unusual trust, say 
most educators (including the teachers' own or- 
ganization, the AAUP), the teacher has a special 
obligation: if responsible persons make serious 
charges against his professional integrity or his in- 
tellectual honesty, he should be willing to submit 
to examination by his colleagues. If his answers to 
the charges are unsatisfactory — evasive, or not in 
accord with evidence — formal charges should be 
brought against him and an academic hearing, con- 
ducted according to due process, should be held. 
Thus, say many close observers of the academic 
scene, society can be sure that justice is done — 
both to itself and to the accused. 



Is the college teacher's freedom 
in any real jeopardy? 



How FREE is the college teacher today? What 
are his prospects for tomorrow? Either here 
or on the horizon, are there any serious 
threats to his freedom, besides those threats to the 
freedom of us all? 

Any reader of history knows that it is wise to 
adopt the view that freedom is always in jeopardy. 
With such a view, one is likely to maintain safe- 



guards. Without safeguards, freedom is sure to be 
eroded and soon lost. 

So it is with the special freedom of the college 
teacher — the freedom of ideas on which our civiliza- 
tion banks so much. 

Periodically, this freedom is buffeted heavily. In 
part of the past decade, the weather was particular- 
ly stormy. College teachers were singled out for 



Are matters of academic freedom easy 

Try handling some of tliese 



You are 

a college president. 

Your college is your life. You have 
thrown every talent you possess into 
its development. No use being mod- 
est about it: your achievements 
have been great. 

The faculty has been strength- 
ened immeasurably. The student 
body has grown not only in size but 
in academic quality and aptitude. 
The campus itself — dormitories, lab- 
oratories, classroom buildings — 
would hardly be recognized by any- 
one who hasn't seen it since before 
you took over. 

Your greatest ambition is yet to 
be realized: the construction of a 
new library. But at last it seems to 
be in sight. Its principal donor, a 
wealthy man whom you have culti- 
vated for years, has only the techni- 
calities — but what important tech- 
nicalities! — to complete: assigning 
to the college a large block of secur- 
ities which, when sold, will provide 
the necessary $3,000,000. 

This afternoon, a newspaper re- 
porter stopped you as you crossed 
the campus. "Is it true," he asked, 
"that John X, of your economics 
department, is about to appear on 
coast-to-coast television advocating 
deficit spending as a cornerstone of 
federal fiscal policy? I'd like to do 
an advance story about it, with your 
comments." 

You were not sidestepping the 
question when you told the reporter 
you did not know. To tell the truth, 
you had never met John X, unless 
it had been for a moment or two of 
small-talk at a faculty tea. On a 
faculty numbering several hundred, 
there are bound to be many whom 
you know so slightly that you might 
not recognize them if they passed 
you on the street. 

Deficit spending! Only last night, 



your wealthy Ubrary-donor held 
forth for two hours at the dinner 
table on the immorality of it. By 
the end of the evening, his words 
were almost choleric. He phoned this 
morning to apologize. "It's the one 
subject I get rabid about," he said. 
"Thank heavens you're not teaching 
that sort of thing on your campus." 

You had your secretary discreetly 
check: John X's telecast is sched- 
uled for next week. It will be at 
least two months before you get 
those library funds. There is John 
X's extension number, and there is 
the telephone. And there are yovu" 
lifetime's dreams. 

Should you . . .? 

You are 

a university scientist. 

You are deeply involved in highly 
complex research. Not only the 
equipment you use, but also the 
laboratory assistance you require, 
is expensive. The cost is far more 
than the budget of your university 
department could afford to pay. 

So, Uke many of your colleagues, 
you depend upon a governmental 
agency for most of your financial 
support. Its research grants and 
contracts make your work possible. 

But now, as a result of your 
studies and experiments, you have 
come to a conclusion that is dia- 
metrically opposite to that which 
forms the oflicial policy of the 
agency that finances you — a policy 
that potentially affects the welfare 
of every citizen. 

You have outlined, and docu- 
mented, your conclusion forcefully, 
in confidential memoranda. Re- 
sponsible officials believe you are 
mistaken; you are certain you are 
not. The disagreement is profound. 
Clearly the government will not 
accept your view. Yet you are con- 



vinced that it is so vital to your 
country's welfare that you should 
not keep it to yourself. 

You are a man of more than one 
heavy responsibiUty, and you feel 
them keenly. You are, of course, re- 
sponsible to your university. You 
have a responsibility to your col- 
leagues, many of whose work is 
financed similarly to yours. You are, 
naturally, responsible to your coun- 
try. You bear the responsibiUty of a 
teacher, who is expected to hold 
back no knowledge from his stu- 
dents. You have a responsibility to 
your own career. And you feel a 
responsibility to the people you see 
on the street, whom you know your 
knowledge affects. 

Loyalties, conscience, lifetime fi- 
nancial considerations: your di- 
lemma has many horns. 

Should you . . .? 

You are 

a business man. 

You make toothpaste. It is good 
toothpaste. You maintain a research 
department, at considerable ex- 
pense, to keep it that way. 

A disturbing rumor reached you 
this morning. Actually, it's more 
than a rumor; you could class it as 
a well-founded report. The dental 
school of a famous university is 
about to publish the results of a 
study of toothpastes. And, if your 
informant had the facts straight, it 
can do nothing but hairm to your 
current selling campaign. 

You know the dean of the dental 
school quite well. Your company, 
as part of its policy of supporting 
good works in dental science, has 
been a regular and substantial con- 
tributor to the school's development 
fund. 

It's not as if you were thinking of 
suppressing anything; your record 



to solve? 
problems. 



of turning out a good product — the 
best you know — is ample proof of 
that. But if that report were to 
come out now, in the midst of your 
campaign, it could be ruinous. A 
few months from now, and no harm 
would be done. 

Would there be anything wrong 
if you . . .? 

Your daughter 
is at State. 

You're proud of her; first in her 
class at high school; pretty girl; 
popular; extraordinarily sensible, 
in spite of having lots of things to 
turn her head. 

It was hard to send her off to the 
university last fall. She had never 
been away from the family for more 
than a day or two at a time. But 
you had to cut the apron-strings. 
And no experience is a better teacher 
than going away to college. 

You got a letter from her this 
morning. Chatty, breezy, a bit sassy 
in a delightful way. You smiled as 
you read her youthful jargon. She 
delights in using it on you, because 
she remembers how you grimaced 
in mock horror whenever you heard 
it around the house. 

Even so, you turned cold when 
you came to the paragraph about 
the sociology class. The so-called 
scientific survey that the professor 
had made of the sexual behavior of 
teen-agers. This is the sort of thing 
Margie is being taught at State? 
You're no prude, but . . . You know 
a member of the education com- 
mittee of the state legislature. 
Should you . . .? And on the coffee 
table is the letter that came yester- 
day from the fund-raising office at 
State; you were planning to write a 
modest check tonight. To support 
more sociology professors and their 
scientific surveys? Should you . . .? 



special criticism if they did not conform to popular 
patterns of thought. They, and often they alone, 
were required to take oath.s of loyalty as if teach- 
ers, somehow, were uniquely suspect. 

There was widespread misunderstanding of the 
teacher's role, as defined by one university presi- 
dent: 

"It is inconceivable . . . that there can exist a true 
community of scholars without a diversity of views 
and an atmosphere conducive to their expression 
. . . To have a diversity of views, it is essential that 
we as individuals be willing to extend to our col- 
leagues, to our students, and to members of the com- 
munity the privilege of presenting opinions which 
may, in fact, be in sharp conflict with those which 
we espouse. To have an atmosphere of freedom, it is 
essential that we accord to such diverse views the 
same respect, the same attentive consideration, that 
we grant to those who express opinions with which 
we are in basic agreement." 

THE STORM of the '50's was nationwide. It was 
felt on every campus. Today's storms are 
local; some campuses measure the threat to 
their teachers' freedom at hurricane force, while 
others feel hardly a breeze. 

Hence, the present — relatively calm — is a good 
time for assessing the values of academic freedom, 
and for appreciating them. Tlie future is certain to 
bring more threats, and the understanding that we 
can build today may stand us in good stead, then. 

What is the likely nature of tomorrow's threats? 

"It is my sincere impression that the faculties of 
our universities have never enjoyed a greater lati- 
tude of intellectual freedom than they do today," 
says the president of an institution noted for its 
high standards of scholarship and freedom. "But 
this is a judgment relative only to the past. 

"The search for truth has no ending. The need to 
seek truth for its own sake must constantly be de- 
fended. Again and again we shall have to insist 
upon the right to express unorthodox views reached 
through honest and competent study. 

"Today the physical sciences offer safe ground for 
speculation. We appear to have made our peace 
with biology, even with the rather appalling im- 
plications of modern genetics. 

"Now it is the social sciences that have entered 
the arena. These are young sciences, and they are 
difficult. But the issues involved — the positions 
taken with respect to such matters as economic 
growth, the tax structure, deficit financing, the laws 



affecting labor and management, automation, social 
welfare, or foreign aid — are of enormous conse- 
quence to all the people of this country. If the critics 
of our universities feel strongly on these questions, 
it is because rightly or wrongly they have identi- 
fied particular solutions uniquely with the future 
prosperity of our democracy. All else must then be. 
heresy." 

Opposition to such "heresy" — and hence to aca- 
demic freedom — is certain to come. 

IN THE FUTURE, as at present, the concept of aca- 
demic freedom will be far from uncomplicated. 
Applying its principles in specific cases rarely 
will be easy. Almost never will the facts be all white 
or all black; rather, the picture that they form is 
more likely to be painted in tones of gray. 

To forget this, in one's haste to judge the Tight- 
ness or wrongness of a case, will be to expose oneself 



to the danger of acting injudiciously — and of com- 
mitting injustice. 

The subtleties and complexities found in the gray 
areas will be endless. Even the scope of academic 
freedom will be involved. Should its privileges, for 
example, apply only to faculty members? Or should 
they extend to students, as well? Should students, 
as well as faculty members, be free to invite con- 
troversial outsiders to the campus to address them? 
And so on and on. 

The educated alumnus and alumna, faced with 
specific issues involving academic freedom, may 
well ponder these and other questions in years to 
come. Legislators, regents, trustees, college ad- 
ministrators, students, and faculty members will be 
pondering them, also. They will look to the alumnus 
and alumna for understanding and — if the cause be 
just — for support. Let no reader underestimate the 
diflSculty — or the importance — of his role. 




Illustrations by Robert Ross 



"What Right 



The report on this and the preceding 15 pages is the product of a cooperative endeavor in which 

scores of schools, colleges, and universities are taking part. It was prepared under the direction 

ij TK I e» IV/I <a mO" °^ ^^^ group listed below, who form editorial projects for education, a non-profit organization 

naS I niS IVian r associated with the American Alumni Council. Copyright © 1963 by Editorial Projects for 

Education, Inc. Ail rights reserved; no part of this report may be reproduced without express permission of the editors. Printed in U.S.A. 



JAMES E. ARMSTRONG 

The University of Notre Dame 

MARALYN O. GILLESPIE 

Swarthmore College 

JEAN D. LINEHAN 



DENTON BEAL 

Carnegie Institute of Technology 

L. FRANKLIN HEALD 

The University of New Hampshire 

JOHN I. MATTILL 

Massachusetts Institute of Technology 



DAVID A. BURR DAN ENDSLEY 

The University of Oklahoma Stanford University 

CHARLES M. HELMKEN KEN METZLER 

American Alumni Council The University of Oregon 

JOHN W. PATON ROBERT L. PAYTON 

Wesleyan University Washington University 



FRANCES PROVENCE 

Baylor University 

FRANK J. TATE 

The Ohio State University 

RONALD A. WOLK 

The Johns Hopkins University 



ROBERT M. RHODES 

The University of Pennsylvania 

CHARLES E. WIDMAYER 



STANLEY SAPLIN VERNE A. STADTMAN 

New York University The University of California 

REBA WILCOXON DOROTHY F. WILLIAMS 

Dartmouth College The University of Arkansas Simmons College 

ELIZABETH BOND WOOD CHESLEY WORTHINGTON CORBIN GWALTNEY 

Sweet Briar College Brown University Executive Editor 



I 



a smoothly polished mirror for radio waves, con- 
sists of wire mesh tied to a ^-id of cables sus- 
pended from the ring of the bowl and down to 
some GOO anchors in the bowl to obtain the desired 
spherical shape. 

The need for the large antenna, the essential 
element in the powerful radar at Arecibo, as a 
research tool in the study of the high atmos- 
phere and surrounding space with its fringe l)ene- 
fits in radar exploration of the solar system and 
in detection of radio signals from the solar system 
and the vast universe beyond, was first pointed 
out nearly five years ago at Cornell University. 
With the encouragement and support of the De- 
partment of Defense's advanced Research Proj- 
ects Agency the field work* in Arecibo began 
about three years ago and should be completed 
this summer. 

With the completion of construction the 
noises of the cranes and dozers and winches, the 
clouds of dust in the tropical tradewinds and the 
*Footnote: Under a contract with the Air Force 
Cambridge Research Laboratories. 



streams of sticky mud after a heavy shower, the 
struggles to deliver and to erect steel and con- 
crete, the cheers of the riggers when a big lift is 
completed and the structure secured, the changes 
in appearance, rapid and slow, as the antenna 
grows — all of these give way to study, to students 
and their teachers, to the scientifically curious. 
The noises will be the whir of motors cooling the 
electronic gear, driving its recorders, or moving 
the massive feed structure above the reflector; 
the tradewinds will hum through the structure 
but the clouds will be of plasma in the upi)er 
atmosphere or that ejected by the sun; the strug- 
gles will be by students facing the unknown; the 
cheer will come, when it can be recognized, from 
the discoveries available to a more powerful in- 
strument; changes will come from new measure- 
ments upsetting older theories, from patient ob- 
servation and deduction, from thought and 
insight. The excitement of construction gives 
way to the excitement of study as students and 
faculty, as visiting researchers and engineei-s, 
combine to become students of the world around 
them. 




The rotating arm is assembled in March 1963. 



13 




Students from West Kinney Junior High School visit Princeton 
University. Some will be sufficiently impressed to try. 



14 



A REPORT ON THE NEWARK PLAN: 
A PROGRAM OF EXPANDED OPPORTUNITIES 

by Bert Tractenburg, '38 

Principal of West Kinney Junior High School, Ncw.irk. N. J. 



1. Preliminary Planning 

The Newark Plan of Expanded Opportunities 
is the result of the professional leadership of Dr. 
Edward F. Kennelly, Superintendent of Schools 
and Dr. David E. Weingast, Assistant Superin- 
tendent in charge of Secondary Education. 

In 1961 under the chairmanship of Fred Lan- 
dolphi, Principal of South Side High School, a 
committee of principals, teachers, social workers 
and guidance counselors was organized to study 
the problems of the schools in our central wards. 
The committee's report was completed in the 
spring of 1962 and was presented to the Board of 
Education. 

The Report begins as follows: 

"Recommendation: A Pilot Project 

"As a first step in the setting up of a 
multi-faceted program of expanded educa- 
tional opportunities for the young people 
of our city, it is respectfully recommended 
that our Board of Education give serious 
consideration to the initiation of a pilot 
project, experimental in nature, on the 
seventh grade level in a junior high school 
in an area of the city in which community 
factors of socio-economic-cultural depriva- 
tion have had a marked effect upon the 
educational progress of young people. The 
specific school will be selected on recom- 
mendation by the superintendent. 

"The recommended project envisages a 
continuing program in depth, a program 
of expanded services of a 'saturation' . . . 
type geared to the broadly conceived aim 
of raising the educational, cultural, and vo- 
cational sights of both young people and 
parents and of developing each pupil to the 
maximum of his potential." 

The Central Ward of the City of Newark has 
been seriously disturbed by a tremendous demoli- 
tion and reconstruction program. Children and 
their families have moved about without estab- 
lishing roots and a sense of community responsi- 
bility. In-migration has created serious problems 



of social and educational nature. Income of the 
average family unit is low so that childicn have 
not been exposed by their parents to automobile 
trips, in and out of the city, to visits to New York 
to the theatre, or to any- museum. The family 
unit itself has in many cases been disturljed by 
desertion, by common-law mairiages, by separa- 
tion so that the children have not developed the 
mores of middle-class America which havf made 
our country a great nation. 

Since the West Kinney Junior High School is 
located in the heart of the Central Ward of the 
City of Newark, it was chosen as the pilot school. 
The "Plan" was to begin in September, 1962. and 
I was transferred to West Kinney as Principal. 

II. The Plan in Action 

Thi'ough conversations with interested people, 
those of us who are working in the Newark Plan 
Project have discovered that many per.sons have 
heard of our plans and activities in the area of 
"culture." It is interesting to obsen'e the skepti- 
cism with which we are greeted when we begin 
to discuss the over-all project. It is even more 
interesting to observe the skepticism give way to 
sincere approval as we present a more complete 
explanation of the actual operation of the project 
in the day to day life at West Kinney Junioi- High 
School. Let it be stated unequivocally that the 
cultural activities portion of our program is im- 
portant. But it must be understood that this area 
is only one phase of our program. The following 
illustrations of our activities are presented in or- 
der to show how the services tendered by the 
project group are helping to improve the leai'ning 
process at our school. 

A. The "Teacher Coordinator." 

On an average day we have six or eight 
teachers out of school for illness or other rea- 
sons. In many cases we have a substitute for 
a substitute, a situation which could cause 
discipline troubles, loss of learning opportu- 
nity for the children, and general disiuption 
for the school as a whole. To meet this prob- 
lem we have utilized the .services of Michael 
Pescatore, the "project teacher." E^ich mom- 



15 



ing, Seymour Puckowitz, the "project coordi- 
nator," receives a list of the absentee teachers 
and the substitute assignment. He confers 
with Mr. Pescatore who then visits each home- 
room to greet the substitute teacher and to 
offer guidance as to lesson plans, teaching ma- 
terials and the handling of discipline cases. 
During the day both Mr. Puckowitz and Mr. 
Pescatore are available immediately wherever 
help is needed. 

B. The Social Worker. 

Many cases of children reporting to school 
without breakfast or without lunch money 
were discovered. Other cases occurred where 
children fell asleep in class from lack of proper 
rest at home. These were reported by the 
teachers to Mr. Puckowitz who contacted the 
home directly. In cases where more serious 
home problems were pin-pointed, the children 
were referred to Pansy Borders, the social 
worker assigned to the project. Miss Borders 
counsels both children and parents in an effort 
to improve the home situation so that success 
in school may be achieved. 

C. Guidance. 

As a result of the work of the two full time 
project guidance counselors, Irwin Pearson 
and Louise Fields, a complete regrouping of 
the children took place at mid-term. Twenty- 
four homeroom groups divided in six levels 
of four each were set up. Pupils were placed 
on the basis of an interpretation of the scores 
achieved on reading tests, arithmetic tests, 
verbal I.Q. tests and non-verbal I.Q. tests. 
Evaluation by classroom teachers of the chil- 
dren's achievement was also considered in the 
placement of pupils. This regrouping has re- 
sulted in fewer failures and drop-outs. 

D. Remedial Reading. 

Remedial reading experiences have been 
set up for more than 120 children daily. These 
children are taught, for the most part, by 
Pearl Stewart, a remedial reading specialist 
assigned to the project. In many cases, regular 
English teachers share their rooms and their 
classes with Mrs. Stewart to observe her tech- 
niques and materials. These procedures are 
the basis of a reading seminar which has been 
set up to promote teacher growth in this vital 
area. Of special note is the fact that this semi- 
nar is conducted within the school day. Teach- 
ers are not asked to attend after school or 



on Saturdays. We have presented our twenty- 
three English teachers with an unusual oppor- 
tunity to work with a practicing specialist in 
real life situations with their own pupils and 
in their own classrooms. The techniques and 
materials recommended by Mrs. Stewart in 
these demonstrations and in her lectures are 
tested immediately by the regular staff and 
adapted as necessary after discussion in the 
weekly seminar. 

E. Cultural Experiences for the Children. 

During the past six months our children 
have visited Princeton, Montclair State, Drew, 
Seton Hall, Upsala and Rutgers. They have 
been taken to the Paper Mill Playhouse in Mill- 
burn and to the Broadway show, "Sound of 
Music," to the Metropolitan Opera and the 
New Jersey Symphony. All 700 students in 
our 7th grade have visited the Newark Mu- 
seum, the Hayden Planetarium and the New 
York Museum of Natural History. In addition, 
we have brought to our school auditorium, 
artists from the Metropolitan Opera Company, 
the Paterson State College Players, and most 
recently the entire New York Production of 
"The Young Abe Lincoln." 

F. Community Relations. 

In order to improve understanding between 
school and community, the staff, under the 
direction of Seymour Puckowitz the project 
coordinator, has worked closely with the 
P.T.A. Parent & Family Life Committee. Meet- 
ings have been held with groups of parents to 
consider the problems of their children who 
were shown by test results to be "under- 
achievers." Monthly meetings with nine of 
the leading ministers of the community have 
proven of great value in the improvement of 
mutual goals and responsibility. Conferences, 
too numerous to count, have been held with 
individual parents concerning problems of stu- 
dents at home and in the community. 

We are participating in a Junior Peace 
Corps project involving 50 students in a neigh- 
borhood clean-up and beautification program. 
The Newark Housing Authority has appropri- 
ated $10,000 to the Fuld Neighborhood House, 
directly across the street from our building. 
The school will supply the students, and Fuld 
Neighborhood House will provide the funds 

(Co>it'niiied on P^ige 24) 



16 



FAIR WIND, OR ILL WIND? 



In the affairs of professional education, there 
is a stir in the land. The election victory of the 
American Federation of Teachers in New York 
City has propelled the teacher union movement 
into prominence. Since many Montclair alumni 
are members of the American Federation of 
teachers, we are presenting the views of this sig- 
nificant group. 

The following is an interview with Mr. Joseph 
Cascella, class of '51, vice president of the New- 
ark Teachers' Union. 
What is the American Federation of Teachers? 

"The American Federation of Teachers is a 
rapidly growing national organization of public 
school and college classroom teachers affiliated 
with the American Federation of Labor and the 
Congress of Industrial Organizations." 
When was it organized? 

"It was organized April 15, 1916. and we be- 
came affiliated with the A.F.L. on May 9. 1916." 
What is the A.F". of T.'s organization structure? 

"The American Federation of Teachers is 
comprised of state Federations in a majority of 
the states, and approximately 450 Locals in the 
continental United States including Alaska and 
Hawaii." 
Why should teachers join a labor union? 

"The NEA and its state organizations have 
proven to be ineffective in improving the working 
conditions and status of classroom teachers. The 
slow pace of progress is due to the inclusion of 
administrators in the organization. It is struc- 
tured to be conservative." 
What is the basic program of the A.F. of T.? 

"A single salary schedule based upon training 
and experience, starting at $6,000 and reaching 
$14,000 in eight annual increments. For teachers 
with an MA degree, we would increase the steps 
by an additional five hundred dollars. We would 
like to eliminate overcrowded classrooms, and we 
believe that every teacher should be fully certi- 
fied and qualified. Emergency certification hurts 
the profession. Elementary school teachers should 
be entitled to an uninterrupted lunch period. We 
are in favor of adequate, accumulative sick leave 
pay, hospitalization and medical insurance paid 
for from school funds. We would also eliminate 
non-teaching chores by teachers." 
Isn't it true that the NEA and its staff affiliates 
are also in favor of these basic objectives? 

"Yes. However, in some instances, it was the 
growth of the union membership in large cities 



that caused the NEA to favor the.se measures in 
self-defense. We also believe that our approach 
would secure these objectives more quickly. The 
NEA has never sponsored an effective program 
to relieve any of the problems cited." 
What is the union approach? 

"We would like Boards of P]ducation to recog- 
nize the rights of teachei-s everywhere to organ- 
ize, negotiate and bargain collectively. In most 
communities. Boards of Education may listen to 
demands and may grant them, but they do not 
have to, and they do not bargain." 
Could n(»t a C<)mmunil_\ Teachers' .Association con- 
duct professional negotiations with a Moaid of 
Education? 

"Yes it could. Please note that professional 
negotiations is a rose by a more preferable name. 
Of course, the intent of the negotiators is vital. 
Are the local associations dynamic enough by 
their very structure? Does not intimation play 
a role? What has been accomplished by this proc- 
ess over the years ?" 

Is it not true that unions nia.\ lack \italit.\ and 
sincerity? 

"This could be true. However, it is the dedi- 
cated vehement teacher who usually joins a union, 
and therefore the membership is not apathetic." 

Could not a local association have dynamic fight- 
ers for just causes? 

"Yes. but do they?" 
If teachers must serve the whole community is 
it wise to affiliate with organized labor? 

"Organized labor was the major instrumental- 
ity in establishing our system of free public 
schools, and has actively backed every practical 
public school improvement since. We feel that the 
American Federation of Teachers' objectives co- 
incide with labor philosophy to re-establish edu- 
cation to its rightful position of respect in our 
society. Labor affiliation gives the American Fed- 
eration of Teachers the support of 18 million 
member of the A.F. of L.-C.I.O." 

Labor doesn't have a monopoly in wishing to re- 
store the dignity of the profession. Does it? 

"No." 

In Newark has the union received much support 
from organized labor? 

"Yes, its program has been actively sup- 
ported." 

(Criiilnined on Ptigt 2iJ 



17 



THREE DECADES OF SELECTIVE ADMISSIONS 
MONTCLAIR STATE COLLEGE 



By 
DR. E. DeALTON PARTRIDGE 

President, Montclair State College 



The faith which the people of America have 
in education is one of the remarkable phenomena 
of our time. The idea that each person should 
have an opportunity to develop his capacities as 
far as he is willing and able is fundamental to 
our way of life. However, in a state where the 
opportunities for public higher education are 
limited, some basis for selecting those w^ho are 
most likely to succeed is necessary. New Jersey 
is such a state. Some system of selection is im- 
perative, especially in recent years when the 
number of applicants has been far greater than 
the capacity of the state college to absorb them. 
The indications are that the situation will not 
continue in the future but will be even more 
critical as the war babies come of college age. 

Recruiting Device 

It is interesting to note in recalling the his- 
tory of selective admissions at Montclair State 
College that this program was first set into op- 
eration as a recruiting device. Before the college 
announced a program of selective admissions 
there was a real problem in recruiting enough 
students to fill the freshman classes and in many 
cases students who were not actually prepared 
or wishing to go into teaching as a profession 
were accepted. Once a program of selective ad- 
missions was announced and set into operation 
the number of applicants began to increase im- 
mediately and ever since the program has been 
in operation there have been more candidates for 
admission than could possibly be taken into the 
freshman class. 

In recent years, the matter of selective ad- 
missions in New Jersey has been a necessity due 
to the fact that there are limited facilities and 
there is no w'ay in which all applicants can be 
accommodated into the state colleges. 

The term "selective admissions" covers a wide 
range of policies and procedures. The screening 
devices utilized to determine entrance into a col- 
lege or university which claims to have selective 
admissions vary tremendously in the extent to 
which these screening devices actually select. In 
a loose sense of the word, the regulation that an 



applicant must have a high school degree is a 
selective process. The rigidity and extent of the 
selection procedures varies from this to a very 
complicated program of selectivity based upon 
a variety of factors. 

High Schools Aware 

One of the interesting results of a selective 
admissions program is that it operates from the 
college outward. Once it is established as a tradi- 
tion and procedure then the selective admissions 
begins to operate on the high school level through 
the counseling program. When this happens 
many students do not apply because of the na- 
ture of the selective admissions, realizing that 
their chances for admission are very slight. 

Selective admissions for a single purpose in- 
stitution are of course different in definition and 
application than they would be for a multi-pur- 
pose institution. For a college that is preparing 
teachers and primarily teachers in the secondary 
schools there is a positive selective process that 
operates among those who apply. This selective 
process is even more pointed when one realizes 
that application to the college is in nearly every 
case an application to a specific curriculum so 
that there is a tendency for those to apply who 
have not only made up their minds to be teachers 
but who have also chosen the field in which they 
expect to teach. 

In New Jersey there is an additional imple- 
ment which sharpens up the selective process 
from the standpoint of the student of the high 
school and that is a pledge which each student 
must sign indicating that he will teach in the 
state of New Jersey for two years after gradua- 
tion. Thus it is safe to say that there is a con- 
siderable amount of selectivity which operates 
before the student applies for and takes the en- 
trance examination to the college. 

Another selective factor which operates be- 
for the student actually takes admissions exam- 
inations has to do with the entrance requirements 
on the basis of high school credits. In most of 
the curriculums at Montclair State College there 



18 



is a forei^i language requirement for example. 
This tends to limit those who apply to students 
who have had in mind college entiance during 
their high school career and some would say that 
there is fui-ther selectivity due to the fact that 
those who choose a foi-eign language in high 
school tend to be the better students, authough 
this point might be debated. 

Obviously the value of any selective admis- 
sions program depends upon the criteria for se- 
lection and whether these criteria actually do re- 
sult in the selection of students who are most apt 
to succeed in college and later in professions 
which they have selected. Certainly, no one who 
has worked with a selective admissions program 
over a period of years would wish to contend 
that the criteria which are used are the final an- 
swers. It is obvious that many fine young people 
who would be successful teachers are turned 
away under this program. It is also obvious that 
a few gain admittance who later fail to demon- 
strate the potential which was hoped they would 
show. 

The admission criteria as established by the 
Commissioner of Education for the six state col- 
leges in New Jersey are as follows : 

High School Rank 30 9r 

High School Personality Rating 10 

Entrance Exam (Verbal) 25 

Entrance Exam (Quantitative) 10 

College interview and admission 

officer appraisal 25 

The selective admissions program of the New 
Jersey State Colleges provides for acceptance of 
a wide range of ability depending upon the cur- 
riculum for which the candidate applies. Compe- 
tition for acceptance in a given curriculum de- 
pends upon the number and quality of applicants 
for this curriculum. The result is that potential 
scholastic ability as measured by high school 
achievement and standardized tests varies con- 
siderably from one curriculum to another. This 
variability is not, as one might suppose, in agree- 
ment with existing stereotypes in the public 
mind. 

For example, at IMontclair State, because of 
the number of candidates applying for women's 
i:)hysical education only about one out of six can- 
didates can be accepted. In Latin, on the other 



hand, three out of four of those who apply will 
be accept<'d. The result is that the .schola.stic 
al)ility of women in the physical education r\iy. 
ricuiuni is unusually high. 

In September 1962 eighty-two per cent of the 
enteiing freshmen in women's physical educa- 
tion were in the top quartile of their high .school 
graduating class. This is a higher percentage 
than those entei-ing in French, music, science, 
social studies or speech. 

It is not easy to asse.ss the validity of a se- 
lective admissions progi-am. There are many 
intangibles that cannot be measui'ed objectively. 
However, there are some objective approaches 
that throw light on this problem. One might, for 
example, ask the following questions and obtain 
faii-ly i-eliable answers. 

Does a selective admissions program 
choose those who are most likely to suc- 
ceed in college? 

Does a program of selective admissions 
result in graduates who are bettei* pre- 
pared foi- theii- chosen profession? 

Are those who entei- through selective 
admissions likely to succeed in their chosen 
profession ? 

With I'eference to success in college there is 
little question that selective admissions reduces 
attrition due to scholarship. There is a positive, 
though not high con-elation between .scholastic 
achievement in colleges and enti-ance test scores 
at Montclair State. That the correlation is not 
higher is due somewhat to the fact that the 
spread of scholastic ability in the student body 
is skewed toward the upper end of the scale. 
Sixty-seven per cent of the Freshmen entering 
in September, 1962 were in the upper quarter of 
their high school gi-aduating class. In seven cur- 
liculums out of fourteen offered in the college, 
more than 75 "^f of the Freshmen were in the up- 
per quartile of their graduating class. 

As measured by the National Teachers Ex- 
amination, IMontclair seniors give evidence of un- 
usual comprehension of subject matter. Com- 
paiison with the national norms, which includes 
liberal arts colleges as well as those devoted pri- 
marily to teacher education, indicates that in 
1957, the last year the test was administered at 
Montclair, 75.59r of the seniors had scores in the 
upper quartile of the national norms. 

The relation between the total entrance score 



19 



and later success in teaching is not easy to estab- 
lish. Later success in a profession should be 
measured in a variety of ways, certainly. Length 
of service, standing in the profession and the 
community and appraisal by supervisory person- 
nel would certainly enter into a measure of suc- 
cess in teaching. 

Crads Make the Grade 

Each year Montclair requests an evaluation 
of the first year of teaching by the superintend- 
ents who hire graduates of the college. Between 
1951 and 1961 inclusive, 1980 graduates were 
evaluated after the first year. The percentage of 
these graduates rated as "Above Average" or 
"Excellent" on several categories is listed below: 

Above 
Average Excellent 



Personal Fitness 
Professional Attitude 



42.2% 32.3% 
38.5 36.3 



Classroom Management 40.4 16.7 

Instructional Skill 47.7 15.6 



Results With Children 



43.4 



18.4 



These are superficial and broad categories, 
but they do represent a pattern of basic satisfac- 
tion on the part of employers. 

A selective admissions program in order to be 
valid and accomplish the ends it is established 
to gain must be entirely free from political or 
other influence which would tend to undermine 
the basic admission requirements. Selective ad- 
missions become meaningless if there are ways 
of by-passing the admissions requirement and 
if those who administer the admissions program 
are not completely sincere and honest in the ap- 
plication of these requirements. 

By and large, however, it is safe to say that 
those who have worked with the selective admis- 
sions program at Montclair State College over 
the past three and one-half decades would con- 
clude the following: 

1. A program of selective admissions has in- 
creased the popularity of the college and 
also the number of applicants applying 
for admission. 



2. Even though there is considerable reliance 
upon objective tests and high school rec- 
ords, the selective process is desirable. It 
reduces the number of failures, increases 
the probability of success in college cur- 
riculum as well as in the later profession 
of teaching. 

3. A program of selective admissions probab- 
ly makes it more difficult for those who 
are the so-called late bloomers to gain ad- 
mission. For this reason selective admis- 
sions ought to be augmented by a fairly 
liberal program of transfer on the basis of 
students who have demonstrated their 
abilities to do college level work although 
they may not have met the initial entrance 
requirements. 



Doing Business 

(Continued from Page 3) 

working with cooperating teachers, many of whom 
are graduates of the department. 

It is noteworthy to report that every business 
education major from last year's graduating class 
who wanted to teach was placed in a business 
teaching position. The job-placement picture looks 
equally encouraging for the coming year. 

Student enrollment in the Department of Busi- 
ness Education during the current semester in- 
cludes over two hundred majors, approximately 
one hundred minors, and about thirty-five gradu- 
ate students. The department had over two hun- 
dred highly qualified freshman applicants to fill 
the quota of about one-fifth that number. 

Members of the business education faculty are : 
Dr. M. Herbert Freeman, chairman of the depart- 
ment ; Dr. Marian J. Collins, Dr. Paul E. Froehlich, 
Dr. Howard L. Haas, Dr. Louis Nanassy, Profes- 
sor Horace J. Sheppard, and Dr. Elizabeth T. Van 
Derveer. This group of professional business edu- 
cators possesses an imposing background of for- 
mal education, extensive business experience, a 
wealth of high school, college, and graduate-level 
teaching experience. They are authors of numer- 
ous books and other teaching materials, they have 
contributed widely to professional magazines and 
yearbooks, and they are recognized nationally and 
even internationally for their leadership in busi- 
ness education. 



20 



HOME ECONOMICS A SERIOUS DISCIPLINE 



The Home Economics Department at Mont- 
clair State College is one of approximately 500 
such departments in colleges and universities 
throughout the United States. Of the 42,G30 un- 
dergraduate men and women enrolled in home 
economics curriculums, Montclair is proud of its 
IGO majors. 

The primary concern of home economics de- 
partments in all colleges and universities is with 
the improvement of homes and the strengthening 
of family life. Ellen H. Richards, the first presi- 
dent of the American Home Economics Associa- 
tion said "Home Economics stands for the free- 
dom of the home from the dominance of things 



education courses, such as English, social studies, 
math, which are similar to those studied by all 
other majors. The .social .sciences and hiologic-al 
and physical sciences form the base upon which 
home economics builds. Thus the student study- 
ing home economics must have courses in soci- 
ology, economics, psychoicjgy and anthropology. 
An understanding of principles in these areas is 
important as background in the understantiing of 
family economics, consumer buying, child develop- 
ment, housing, home management and family re- 
lationships. 

Organic chemistry, biology and bacteriology 
are prerequisites to the studv of fofxis and nu- 




Recognizing her contribution in the field of home management. Montclair 
dedicated the "Dr. Lillian Cilbreth Management House" 



and their due subordination to ideals; the sim- 
plicity in material surroundings which will most 
free the spirit for the more important and perma- 
nent interests of the home and of society." This 
statement holds true today. 

Home economists believe that their way of 
thinking about families and homes is unique. An 
integrated study is made of family life which dif- 
fers from psychology, sociology, anthropology or 
the natural sciences because home economics is 
concerned with all of these disciplines with their 
interrelationships and the total pattern which 
they form. 

The curriculum at INIontclair prepares its grad- 
uates to teach home economics in grades K 



uates to teach home economics m grades K 
through 12. This preparation consists of general 



trition and textiles while basic learnings in phys- 
ics make the use of household equipment more 
meaningful. 

In a curriculum in which subject matter spe- 
cialization is available, home economics students 
may study intensively in one or more of the areas 
of home management, housing, clothing and tex- 
tiles, foods and nutrition or child development 
and family relationships. Becau.se graduates of 
Montclair are expected to teach in all areas of 
home economics, each of these specialties are in- 
cluded in the course of study. 

Home economics is often thought of as a group 
of courses developing skills in cooking, house- 
keeping and sewing. Home economics is an appli- 

(Cotit'mued on Inside Bjct C'.'-Tt 



21 




INDUSTRIAL ARTS PROGRAM 
VITAL TO THE AMERICAN ECONOMY 

by Jerry Streichler 



Industrial arts has evolved from early European 
and American activity programs into a contem- 
porary school curriculum. Today, the educational 
values of realistic and practical work are achieved 
in laboratories or "shops" while a body of knowl- 
edge concerning American industry is communi- 
cated to the student. Elementary and secondary 
school students not only make things in the lab- 
oratory but engage in studies of industrial meth- 
ods of planning, creating, researching, and pro- 
ducing. The changing nature of industry thus 
becomes a central consideration in the industrial 
arts curriculum in the schools. Recognition of 
change and progress in industry is also funda- 
mental to the following principles which guide 
industrial arts education at Montclair State Col- 
lege: 

American industrial progress is tied to tech- 
nological advance which industry initiates. In 
large measure this is accomplished through 
extensive research in materials, processes, 
utilization of labor, and use of machines 

Industry pervades our culture and economy, 
and has a direct influence on our daily lives. 
Consequently, industrial studies are a vital 
part of the general education of a public which 



needs to understand the complexities and na- 
ture of the impact of industry. 
Most youth on all grade levels benefit from 
work with concrete materials and effectively 
learn, understand, and retain subject matter 
when it is presented in connection with practi- 
cal manipulative work. 

A properly equipped industrial arts laboratory 
directed by a well-prepared teacher is an ideal 
place for designing, planning, and producing. 
In such a classroom freedom is encouraged, 
creativity is nurtured, accuracy and skills are 
developed, and the inquiring mind is stimu- 
lated. 

Industrial arts offerings at the college have 
been developed within the context of these 
guidelines. Like industry, many of the areas of 
work are interrelated. The separate studies which 
make up industrial arts are : Mechanical, engineer- 
ing, and architectural drawing; industrial photog- 
raphy; offset, relief, gravure, and screen process 
printing; wood, plastic, ceramics, textiles, and 
metals industries ; welding ; electric, internal com- 
bustion, and external combustion power; radio, 
television, and industrial electronics ; manufactur- 
ing processes, machine and product design, and 



22 




arts and crafts for elementary schools. The under- 
graduate curriculum includes required courses 
which cover all these areas. Two senior elective 
courses titled Comprehensive General Shop permit 
students to pursue special interests through more 
intensive work in an area. Seniors may also study 
and experiment with techniques of teaching in- 
dustrial arts in the elementary, junior, and senior 
high schools in these courses. 

Industrial arts majors study in a laboratoiy 
which is rather unique in teacher education. In 
contrast to classes in separate specialized labora- 
tories, which have been typical in teacher educa- 
tion, the above listed studies are undertaken in a 
large laboratory which contains all the tools, ma- 
chines, and materials gennane to all of the areas. 
Opened in 1956, this facility was planned to house 
eighty undergraduates and thirty graduate stu- 
dents under four faculty members. Approximate 
enrollment figures for September, 1963, serve as 
a barometer of growth on the campus. The faculty 
at that time will number eight, while the count 
of students will include 195 undergraduates, plus 
96 men taking undergraduate offerings through 
the part time and extension division, and 91 grad- 
uate students. These figures reflect a serious 
shortage of industrial arts teachers in New Jersey 
public schools. 

The increased enrollment and the obligation to 
help industrial arts teachers remain abreast of 
changes in industry and meet the demands of the 



school districts has created a paradoxical situa- 
tion. As a result of continuing study, the indus- 
trial arts faculty has either offered or planned 
additional advanced courses in electronics, graphic 
arts, and design . . . this despite scheduling and 
equipment maintenance problems which are con- 
comitants of increased offerings. Nevertheless, 
study, evaluation, and resulting curriculum modi- 
fications will continue because of the strong be- 
lief at Montclair that so urban and industrialized 
a State as New Jersey needs qualified industrial 
arts teachers who will help New Jersey youth to 
better understand our industry-oriented society. 



Fair Wind, or III Wind? 

(('■'KHi-hcJ jrn>}! Pane l~ / 
Do unions attempt to control the A.F. of T.? 

"It does not. This organization is autonom- 
ous." 

Does some of your due.s go to the A.F. of L.- 
C.I.O.? 

"Yes. a small percentage." 
Is it unprofessional to belong to a Teachers' union? 

"Musicians, journalists, actors, and technicians 
of all types belong to unions; they do not feel it 
is unprofessional. I believe that collective bar- 
gaining is the only way to break the professional 
straight jacket that we are in." 

This editor feels that if the training colleges 
turn out competent and proficient teachers, who 
(Continued to Inside Back Cover) 



23 



National Science Foundation 

(Continued jroni Page 11) 

Now, one of the major difficulties is that 
teachers, being human, are afraid of the new ; 
and we teachers find much of this new material 
far more difficult to learn than the youngsters do. 
The youngsters do not have as many mental blocks ' 
in their way, nor do they have so much to un- 
learn. Therefore, one of the major projects 
which had to be undertaken in order to intro- 
duce new curricula in our schools was that of 
teacher training. A crash program was needed 
which would bring secondary school teachers 
back to college to receive training in these new 
programs. 

Montclair State College first applied for and 
received a grant for an in-service institute in 
the year 1958-59. This grant provided an oppor- 
tunity for 25 teachers from northern New Jer- 
sey to meet every Saturday morning throughout 
the year to receive instruction in modern phases 
of mathematics. Then, in the summer of 1959, 
a further grant was received by the college to 
allow 75 teachers from throughout the United 
States to spend a period of six weeks on campus 
receiving instruction in modern mathematics. 
To date, Montclair State College has received 
grants to operate six in-service institutes, five 
summer institutes, as well as two summer con- 
ferences for college teachers of mathematics in- 
terested in teacher training. In all, the college 
has received over $450,000 in funds to provide 
these various programs, of which over $300,000 
has been used to provide subsidies for the par- 
ticipants. 

It might be well to pause and look at one 
particular phase of this operation in order to 
get a clearer picture of what is being done. An 
institute will be held on our campus this sum- 
mer for 75 teachers from various parts of the 
United States. Of this number, approximately 
40 will be those who are returning from prior 
summers in order to complete training towards 
an M.A. degree in mathematics. For the remain- 
ing 35 openings some 1,000 applications were re- 
ceived. After careful screening by a local com- 
mittee, the remaining applicants were selected. 
For a period of six weeks this summer these 
75 participants will live on campus, taking 
courses in the mornings, returning to workshops 
and lectures in the afternoons and evenings, and 
thus receiving a concentrated dose of modern 



mathematics in a six weeks period of time. Some 
of the participants will take advanced courses, 
whereas others will take refresher courses in 
undergraduate mathematics ; but all of these will 
be given with a flavor of the new mathematics 
sprinkled in. Various guest lecturers will be in- 
vited to the campus; in past years these have 
ranged from staff members of local colleges to 
visiting professors from Japan, Yugoslavia, The 
Netherlands and Germany. 

The participants will live together in one 
of the new dormitories and, based on past ex- 
perience, will derive a great deal of benefit just 
from an exchange of opinions in informal dis- 
cussion sessions. The summer staflf will consist 
of certain members of our own department, as 
well as visiting lecturers who are outstanding 
in their own field. 

To date some 700 teachers of mathematics 
have been enrolled in various National Science 
Foundation supported institutes at Montclair. 
Based on evaluations made, these programs have 
been invaluable in providing the participants 
with instruction in modern mathematics. The 
benefits to Montclair State College have been 
numerous ; for one thing, this has brought a great 
deal of prestige as well as national recognition 
to the college. The Foundation has never, to date, 
rejected a single proposal submitted by Mont- 
clair! Indeed, in 1958-59 Montclair was one of 
the first colleges in New Jersey to hold a mathe- 
matics institute supported by the National Sci- 
ence Foundation. These institutes have also 
helped the department in the development of 
new courses which were later off"ered to local 
teachers without Foundation support. Finally, 
many of the participants in institutes have re- 
turned to the college to take regular graduate 
courses without Foundation support. 



Newark Plan 

(Continued jroni Page 16) 

for this all-year gardening and care-taking 
operation. 

In conclusion, we cannot evaluate accurately 
our achievement as of this date, but we find many 
indications that the Newark Plan of Expanded 
Opportunities will benefit the children and the 
community in the years that lie ahead. 



24 



Home Economics 

( i.oiitniued Irani Pttf^c 2 1 ) 

cation cun-iculum and important contributions 
are made in the area of skills. But the developing 
of skills in home economics is not the end but 
merely a means to an end. It is not only the prep- 
aration of a meal that is important but the con- 
sidei-ation of the nutritional value, the calculation 
of costs, and the method and attractiveness of 
service. 

Managing a home means decision making, 
planning long range family goals, making wise 
choices and gaining cooperation of family mem- 
bers — as well as clothing a family and taking 
care of a home. 

To bridge the gap between all the areas studied 
and its application to daily life, home economics 
departments have a laboratory known as a "man- 
agement house." Recognizing her contribution 
made in the field of management and specifically 
in home management, the laboratory at Montclair 
was named the "Dr. Lillian Gilbreth Management 
House." 

Upon first impression, the Home Management 
residency appears to be practical application of 
the "arts of homemaking." The practical arts are 
not neglected. Students do study and participate 
in meal planning and preparation, cleaning and 
care of the home, laundry and entertaining. They 
work under the close supervision of a college fac- 
ulty member who holds an advanced degree in the 
areas of home management and family economics. 



The true value of the home management course 
lies in the student's working together with the 
resident director in the planning, evaluating and 
analyzing of the activities carried out during this 
pei'iod of residency. 

The need for women with professional train- 
ing ill home economics is acute, particularly in 
New Jersey. There will likely be a continuing 
need for years to come. For example in 19()1 Xcw 
Jersey colleges prepared 37 home economics teach- 
ers when during the year 132 were needed. 

C. B. Hutchison, a former president of one of 
our land grant colleges, wrote an article for the 
"Journal of Home Economics": 

I cannot conceive of any curriculum that 
could be made more neai"ly to meet the 
ideal educational requirements for college 
and university women as a group, by com- 
bining elements of a liberal as well as a 
practical education, than a good basic pro- 
gram in general home economics. 



FAIR WIND, OR ILL WIND? 

{Conlinued jrnni Piigt 23) 

believe that the profession should be treated with 
respect and dignity, and who think that as a pro- 
fession it is deserving of the compensation and 
working conditions commensurate with the status 
of the profession, then any organization will 
achieve these objectives. In other words, it is the 
people in the organization not the organization. 

This is indeed debatable. 

WHAT DO YOU THINK? 




An understanding of principles in sociology and anthropology 
is important in discussions in family relationships. 




SPRACUE LIBRARY — MONTCLAIR STATE COLLEGE 



CONTENTS 



Page 



Crowing Support for Montclair State Inside Front Cover 

As the English Department Looks to the Future 1 

Doing Business Is a Pleasure at MSC 3 

Travel with Montclair 4 

New Jersey Moves Forward on Teacher-Board Negotiations 5 

Montclair State Makes Music in Its Modern Music Building 7 

Foreign Language: Demonstrated Competency Is Our Coal 9 

National Science Foundation at MSC 1 1 

Progress at Arecibo 12 

What Right Has This Man Centerpiece 

A Report on the Newark Plan 15 

Fair Wind, or III Wind 17 

Three Decades of Selective Admission 18 

Home Economics a Serious Discipline 21 

Industrial Arts Program 22 



EDITORS 

Mr, Marvin Shiofmitz Editor-in-Chief 

Mrs. Helen Rendall Associate Editor 

Mr. Morris McCee Associate Editor 

Mr. Robert Hilton Chairman of the Publications Committee 

Mr. Charles Martens Photography Editor 



Printed by Progress Publishing Company, Progress Square, Caldwell, N. J. 



;4iccm^c 




MONTCLAIR STATE COLLEGE 



S^mitu^ t964 



Jersey Paradox 



by Dr. E. DcAlton Partridge 

President, Montclair State College 

The State of New Jersey, small geographically, 
is squeezed in between the sprawling metropolis 
of New York City on the north and the birthplace 
of our country's independence, Philadelphia on the 
South. Benjamin Franklin called it a l)arri'l open 
at both ends. 

New Jersey is one of the most densely popu- 
lated states in the nation. It is highly industral- 
ized, and the per capita annual income is among 
the highest of all the 50 states in the union. 

New Jersey is a state that depends heavily 
upon highly trained human beings to operate its 
industry and its business enterprises. It is a lead- 
ing state with regard to research and chemistry 
and allied fields. It is the corporate home of some 
of the largest industries in the nation. 

Some of the communities in New Jersey are 
models for rich and meaningful living. They are 
beautifully situated and represent active and in- 
telligent cooperation and participation on the part 
of the citizens. Public education at the community 
level ranks rather high among the states. Local 
communities have taxed themselves to provide 
fine educational opportunities for their children. 
On the other hand, some of the city areas in the 
state represent the worst of slums and notoriously 
corrupt administrations. 

Although public schools on the community 
level have thrived in New Jersey, it is becoming 
increasingly evident that local communities can 
no longer bear the entire burden of financing pul)- 
lic education. The State is extremely backward 
in providing state aid to local communities, and 
there is every evidence that there is trouble ahead 
for public schools. 

Even more distressing is the situation in pub- 
lic higher education. New Jersey, one of the 
wealthiest states, will be found very low on the 
list in terms of per capita expenditure on public 
higher education. Up until a decade ago, there 
was hardly any public higher education in New 
Jersey. There were six teachers colleges, all of 
them neglected for several decades, each with a 
few hundred students but lacking in state support 
and with dismal futures ahead. The State bond 
issue of 1951 for the teachers colleges started a 



new era when $15,000,000 was made availaljle for 
the six State Teachers Colleges. The 1959 bond 
issue provided additional sustenance to these neg- 
lected institutions. Rutgers, the State University, 
has also received sizeable State aid. 

It is true that the State Colleges and the State 
University have made progress in the last decade. 
However, progress is a relative thing. It must be 
measured against a number of other factors. In 
terms of the needs of New Jersey, the progress 
is meager. Compared with other states across the 
nation, the progress is so slow as to seem back- 
ward. Measured against the potential wealth of 
the State, the progi-ess is actually infinitesimal. 

Since 1951 when the first bond issue was 
passed for the teai.'hers colleges, something 
around $10,000,000 has been expended on the 
Montclair camjnis. This has meant some real 
progi'ess, but IMontclair is tui^ning away more ap- 
plicants today than ever before. Valedictorians 
and those in the ui)per ten per cent of their gradu- 
ating classes in high school are turned away in 
some of the Montclair curriculums. 

Recently in one of the Los Angeles, Califor- 
nia, newspapers there was an article in the real 
estate section outlining the plan to spend $118,- 
000,000 on the Los Angeles State College. Com- 
pared with the State of California where the peo- 
ple face up to their responsibilities in higher edu- 
cation. New Jersey is still in the dai-k ages. 

Why does this condition exist? With all of 
the need for college-trained people and with the 
great resources in New Jersey, why, year after 
year, is it necessary to face the financial crisis in 
suppoi't of the public institutions and why ai"e the 
public institutions lagging so far behind the dem- 
onstrated need? This is the New Jersey paradox 
and one which was outlined in considerable detail 
and with skill in a recent issue of Harper's maga- 
zine. The time has come for the people of New 
Jersey to face up to these responsibilities, and an 
increasing number of responsible citizens in the 
State realize this. Montclair alumni, whether they 
live in New Jersey or not. can aid this movement 
towards a more enlightened age in public educa- 
tion. 



1 



Teaching In An Urban School System 



by Eugene T. Maleska 

Assistant Superinten 




Eugene Maleska receiving Honorary Doctorate at 
Montclair, June, 1963 

Let us begin candidly with the melodramatic 
image. Exaggerated as it may be, it has its fasci- 
nation and its elements of truth. Let us call our 
soap opera: "Mary Smith: New Teacher in the 
Big City." 

Mary's student teaching was done in a middle- 
class school where most of the class reflected her 
own childhood: eager Caucasian faces, neatly 
starched shirts and dresses, pens and pencils on 
the desk, notebooks open, silence at her command 
— and, above all, in the background an experi- 
enced teacher ready to assist at a moment's no- 
tice. 

Now incredibly Mary star.ds alone before the 
children of the poor, the displaced and the mis- 
treated. Their skin color ranges from the ebony 
to tan. Some have just arrived from the rural 
South ; like more than five million other Negroes, 
their parents have migrated into the North in 
search of a better life. The others are from fami- 
lies trapped in the dark ghetto for generations. 

Mary stands there with her white face aquiver, 
and suddenly the rhythm of her life is different. 



dent, New York City 

She, with her sheltered background, is the dis- 
placed person today. The atmosphere is alive 
with a medley of emotions ranging from apathy 
and grudging acceptance to outright hostility. She 
thinks of the LQ.'s inked in on the record cards 
and she remembers that the median is 85. Of 
course, she recalls what she had been taught by 
her education professors — that group LQ. tests 
are not to be trusted, that "class-bias" is built 
into them, and that they are not "culture-fair." 
But then her mind flashes back to those low scores 
on last year's achievement tests, and she wonders 
if she can ever really teach those children or even 
understand them. 

The reader can write his own ending because 
there is no single conclusion to this drama. A few 
Mary Smiths succumb and resign in tears. But 
an amazing number eventually derive genuine en- 
joyment from this challenge. Nor can they be 
correctly labeled as masochists ; instead they be- 
long to that vast, resilient, never-say-die group 
of the human race that responds positively to the 
stimulus of tribulation. They bring innate re- 
sourcefulness and adaptability to the job; they 
are equipped with such strong moral fiber and 
self-confidence that they can triumph over the 
two-fold problem of their own background and 
the environment of the children. Moreover, they 
are stubborn. No matter how often their efforts 
are rebuffed, they refuse to believe that their 
pupils are all doomed to the ash heap of perpetual 
ignorance and disorder. 

Thousands of these teachers want no other 
life. They testify enthusiastically to the rewards 
of uplifting the downtrodden, finding the nugget 
in the troubled stream, and receiving the respect 
and gratitude of long-suffering parents. Certainly 
they have their moments of despair and disgust, 
as do teachers everywhere. But they are buoyed 
up by the knowledge that their work is important 
— that sometimes they represent the only link 
between the child and the glory. 

Professor Phil Lange of Teachers College has 
a theory in this connection. He speaks of the 
"high level of tolerance" needed by the urban 
teacher. He believes that the self-centered adult 
with nurotic tendencies or with deep prejudices 
and fears has far less chance of success in urban 
schools than in the suburbs. 



The Lange theory also applies to tolerance for 
the bureaucracy that often grows out of bigness. 
Probably a large number of potential applicants 
for teaching positions in cities like New York 
never bother to take the battery of screening 
tests because they have no patience for delays or 
are afraid they will fail the examinations. If such 
"natural selection" operates, it has its blessings. 
The misfits are less likely to crop up behind the 
teacher's desk. 

But it would be foolish to think that patience, 
confidence, faith, and other fine qualities are 
enough in the situation described above. Though 
important, they must be buttressed by external 
measures. For example, in the area of under- 
graduate preparation, realistic courses in reading 
methodology and sociology can help remove road- 
blocks to success. Hunter College and several 
other institutions have established programs in 
which student teachers volunteer to practice in 
the most difficult schools. It is interesting to note 
that most of the volunteers request appointments 
to the same schools and do well in their probation- 
ary period. 



Urban Renewal 

Concrete clusters with dark-cornered rooms 

Thrust upward like vertical tombs; 

Girded layers against the sky, 

But nowhere a butterfly. 

Crumbling asphalt, miles of drains 

Trap the sullied summer. rains; 

Broken sunlight on blocks of glass, 

But nowhere a butterfly. 

High-rise, low-rent home sweet home. 

Precisely partitioned honeycomb; 

Cubicles that stifle the wind's sigh, 

But nowhere a place to cry. 

Eclipse the sun with slate and stone 
To shelter the flesh and bone; 
Inches of space on a zoning chart. 
But nowhere to anchor the heart. 

Helen Vitello Nuniio 



Orientation programs are undergoing re-eval- 
uation and change in urban centers. Efforts are 
being made to place a number of the new teachers 
in the more favored schools. Many cities have 
adopted internship programs, the "buddy" system, 
and specific procedures for practical help from 
supervisors who are selected not for their scholar- 
ship alone but for their ability to inspire a feeling 
of warmth and security among teachers and pu- 
pils. In-service courses have been organized in 
such fields as human relations and the history and 
culture of minority groups, especially Negroes and 
Spanish-speaking people. 

Working on the principle that pupils in de- 
prived neighborhoods need compensatory help, 
boards of education in most of the great cities 
have increased the per-capita allowance. "Special 
service" is the designation that New York City 
gives these schools. They receive more of every- 
thing: supervisors, teachers, specialists, guidance 
counselors, psychological sei-vices, attendance oflR- 
cers, and books and supplies. In some of these 
schools costly programs like the famous Higher 
Horizons have been introduced to provide cultural 
opportunities for pupils and to raise their levels 
of aspiration. In most special-service schools, class 



Epitaph 



I have sung with the morning 
And wept with the night; 
Traced the curve cf the rainbow 
And mourned blossom's blight. 

Fragrant fields I have wandered. 
Jungle shadows I knew, 
Carnal lips I have tasted 
My head pillowed on rue. 

I journey to death, acquainted with life; 
The pathways shall be familiar; 
Treading star-points or brimstone, 
I'll not be particular. 

Helen Vitello Nunzio 



Continued on Page 22 



Requiem For A World 



In the long night 

of the long year, 

the world expired. 

Neath mammoth ropes of water 

the stone, the stem, the snail. 

Pulseless space 

and motionless time 

Witnessed the degradation of the rose 

the death of the dove 

the desecration of the grail. 

Threads of decay 

Befouled the earth 

in the long night of the long year — 

And everywhere, obliteration of the trail. 

There was none to mourn 

the strangulation of the bell 

the annihilation of the world. 

As it was in the beginning, is now 

No inhale, no exhale. - - - Amen 

Helen Vitello Nunzio 



Legacy 



Come, see what we have left 

To you who slumber yet 

Insensibly. 

You shall not stumble forth bereft 

Of legacy. 

Claim ancestral ancient crag 

And lip-scarred blackened rock 

Joyously. 

Stare at seething seas that nag 

Incessantly. 

Gaze long and mutely at the sweep 

Of moonlit sands that lie 

Shimmeringly. 

Step softly over seed asleep 

Reverently. 

Rejoice in our unlimited bequest: 

The fingering wind's friendly refrain, 

Glint of silken wing in swinging nest, 

Magical mist, articulate rain. 

Wake, and count the gems of treasure, 

Inventory soon will show 

Another legacy to measure: 

Magnificent missiles all in a row. 

Helen Vitello Nunzio 



^^ 



Discipline" Is Not A 
Dirty Word! 



by William Monprode, Vice-Principal 

Vailsburg High School. Newark, New Jersey 

"Discipline" may refer either to subject matter 
or to the conduct of the pupils. We are here con- 
cerned with discipline in the latter sense although 
there has been a tendency in high quarters of the 
profession in recent years, unfortunately, to re- 
gard it as a dirty word. The truth is that disci- 
pline, like propaganda or politics, may be either 
good or bad and like them is a fact of life to be 
lived with and, if possible, turned to good account. 

Constructively, discipline means systematic 
instruction and training designed to promote or- 
derly conduct to prepare the pupil for his future 
responsibilities as a citizen. 

Long before the apotheosis of "educational 
psychology," parents and teachers used rewards 
for good conduct and penalties for bad conduct 
(in varying proportions and with varying success) 
in the effort to induce proper behavior in children. 
We are told that in American schools several gen- 
erations ago there was excessive reliance on pen- 
alties and too little use of rewards. Certainly, in 
recent times the prevailing tendency has been to 
try to promote proper conduct by "permissive- 
ness" and to minimize, or even to deprecate, the 
use of penalties. Common sense and psychological 
research (as distinguished from pseudo-psycho- 
logical theorizing) suggest that both rewards and 
penalties be used in judicious proportions. I sus- 
pect that truly good teachers in all times and in 
all countries have done just that, while the winds 
of pedagogical metaphysics have blown the inse- 
cure and the incompetent teachers first to one 
extreme and then to the other. 

It has often been said that good teaching is 
the host means of securing good discipline, and 
few will dispute this if some qualifications are 
allowed. 1. Some pupils will act disruptively even 
in a good classroom situation. 2. Not all teachers 
can be expected to be "master teachers," and even 
the best teacher is not fully effective every pe- 
riod of every school day. 3. A minimum degree of 
order must be maintained in classroom and school, 
regardless of the quality of teaching. 4. Some dis- 
ciplinary offenses occur in extra-classroom situa- 
tions — corridors, lavatories, assemblies, cafe- 



terias, and school grounds, and these are a pri- 
mary responsibility of the school administration 
rather than the classroom teacher. 

In the classroom, the teacher must make and 
enforce rules of good conduct using both rewards 
and penalties. The matter of rewards has been 
well explored in recent years, but in many schools 
the use of appropriate penalties has been fore- 
sworn in a flood of permissive philosophy with its 
horror of possible "trauma" or "stigmatism." 
Most children are able to accept and profit from 
such time-honored penalties as detention after 
school and an unequivocal "unsatisfactory" or "F" 
conduct rating on the report card, and parents can 
readily interpret them. In the few cases of re- 
calcitrants who do not i-espond to these measures, 
the teacher has a right to expect from the admin- 
istrator not bromides ("you must establish rap- 
port with the pupils" or "there are no pupil fail- 
ures, only teacher failures") but measures calcu- 
lated to reinforce the teacher's efforts. 

In addition to dealing with flagrant problems 
referred by the classroom teacher, offenses against 
general school discipline should be handled by the 
administrator if he expects the teachers to be 
alert and conscientious in detecting and rcpoi'ting 
them. It is not enough to reward good school citi- 
zenship through awards and positive recognition. 
Bad school citizenship must be met promptly with 
clear-cut and meaningful penalties. Loss of privi- 
leges and central detention rooms outside school 
hours are devices well understood and respected 
by both pupils and parents. When the problem 
of a serious or chronic disciplinary offender 
reaches the administrative level, a concise case 
history should be compiled with the collaboration 
of the guidance staff, and the parents should be 
advised in writing of the nature of the problem. 

Unfortunately, a few hard-core cases will not 
be resolved by these methods, and the admittedly 
drastic measures of suspension and even expul- 
sion should be invoked. Too often, a pupil who 
should be ousted is retained on the theoiy that 
"suspension will do him more harm than good"and 
"we will then lose all influence over him". When 
an offender reaches this point, the school has 

Continued on Page 25 



A Glance At Danish Education 



by B. Ernest Shore 



B. E. Shore, formerly Assistant Professor of Slavic 
Languages and Culture at Montclair State College, spent 
the academic year 1962-1963 in research and teaching in 
Denmark and Italy. 




Quadrilateral type of Danish high school, with extensive playing fields 



Again this summer thousands of American 
teachers will be making a quick trip through 
some countries of western Europe for mental re- 
laxation and educational profit. England and 
France almost invariably form the nucleus of 
their itinerary, which has occasional trajectories 
to allow a few days in Scotland, Italy, Switzer- 
land, Germany, Belgium, or Holland, depending 



on special interests. All too often, Denmark, one 
of the most delightful of European states, remains 
unvisited because it lies too far out on the peri- 
phery of the traditional tourist stamping-ground. 
Yet, no one country in so short a time and so 
small a space offers so much genuine pleasure 
and valuable information to the visitor from the 
United States. 



6 



Certain conditions i^ertain to Denmark that 
make this possible. Roughly sijeakiiig, its area 
of 16,000 square miles is twice that of New Jersey 
and its five million inhabitants ivpresent two- 
thirds of the population of this stale. As a sov- 
ereign nation Denmark does not pose any kind of 
threat to the world, foreigners unconsciously 
therefore api)roach its institutions with an open, 
absorptive mind, uninfluenced by the jealousies 
and fears of international politics. From time im- 
memorial, the Western powers have held the 
Danes in high esteem, and recently even Khru- 
shchev has remarked that though the Soviet 
Union is better. Denmark is a good country. It 
takes outstanding quality to win approbation from 
both sides, and how did this come to be — that is 
the question. 

Like most small nations nowadays, the Danes 
realize that their survival and independence rest 
on the highest possible development of their na- 
tural resources and their connection with a supra- 
national body, like the United Nations, which is 
dedicated to the triumph of moral rightness over 
physical strength. This has led to the high stan- 
dard of living and the urbanity of outlook that 
charm every visitor. Moreover, there is an un- 
complicated simplicity about the situation in Den- 
mark (if there was ever anything rotten, it has 
long since disappeared). Ninety-eight per cent of 
the inhabitants were born in the countn-, seventy- 
five per cent adhere to the same religious denomi- 
nation, and complete equality exists both in the- 
ory and practice for all citizens. Not only are 
thei-e no minority problems, but the vast majority 
of the people have much the same high level of 
living. The national class structure is shaped like 
the diamond on a i)laying-card — small at the 
top and bottom, but very wide across the middle. 
The land is almost as flat as the surrounding sea, 
with no geographic features to divide the popula- 
tion into sectional groups, and the surprisingly 
large number of variants of spoken Danish is fast 
giving way to the standard pronunciation of the 
apex of Danish culture, Copenhagen. 

Copenhagen is Denmark in a test-tube. Here 
everything that is typical of the country can be 
observed and studied, the various elements can 
be isolated and subjected to the scrutiny of re- 
search. The visiting teacher from the United 
States naturally gives special attention to educa- 
tion and never fails to be impressed by the length 
of the teaching tradition, exemplified by the fact 
that the University of Copenhagen was founded 
in 1479, thirteen years before America was dis- 



covei-ed. At first to train young people primarily 
for the Church and i)ul)!ic administration, and 
niaiiitaiiu'd by special endowments, the University 
now has the following five faculties (in numerical 
order of registrants) Medicine, Arts, Law and 
Economics, Science, and Theology, to prepare stu- 
dents foi- all k^irned cai'eers, and is entirely sup- 
ported by the state. Tuition is free, attendance 
at lectures is voluntary, and examinations may 
generally be taken whenever the candidate feels 
prepared for them. The student body amounts to 
7,000, a very large proportion of whom receive 
state grants or loans of varying sizes for their 
maintenance. Foreigners, who are of university 
standing in their own countries, are admitted to 
all courses except Medicine, which has over- 
crowded accommodation. Undergraduate life in 
Copenhagen seems to be a supremely happy ex- 
perience for the student, who gets from the public 
all the indulgence universally given to youth, plus 
the respect generally accorded to learning. 

The academic standards are very high at the 
University, because a rigorous selective process 
has been in operation throughout the earlier years 
of schooling. The highest education may be open 
and inexpensive to all matriculants, but less than 
seven per cent of Danish youth between the ages 
of twenty and twenty-four are university stu- 
dents. Compared with the thirty-five per cent 
that holds for the same age category in the United 
States, the figure is astonishingly low. What has 
been happening along the academic line to pro- 
duce this result in Denmark? 

One factor that does not lie on the surface is 
certainly the long established attitude that uni- 
versity education is only for the elite. In preced- 
ing centuries, the educationally privileged were 
the children of the wealthy upper classes, regard- 
less of their natural endowments. With the ad- 
vent of an almost classless society in the present 
century, the elite have become those whose na- 
tural abilities are superior, regardless of their 
social position. It still means a sort of aristocracy, 
but it is now not one of birth but of intellect. 

The channeling of the academically gifted into 
certain groups with special programs begins as 
early as the primary school. Primary education 
is obligatory for all children between the ages of 
seven and fourteen in Denmark, a point which is 
also a suri^rise to American teachers when they 
recall that in the United States the age span is 
generally six to sixteen or more. The fact that 
Danish children attend school on a six-day week, 
which adds up to 236 days in the year rather 



than the 178 that prevails in the United States, 
tends to increase their rehitive total attendance 
by almost two working years and thus to reduce 
the disparity with American children. In schools 
of more than fourteen classes, the Danes separate 
the pupils of less academic promise into their own 
classes by the end of the fifth year. This still 
leaves two years of compulsory schooling, which 
in their case, are slanted in the direction of prac-' 



by either party, but if it continues through the 
normal three-year period, the employer is pledged 
to give varied work experience to his apprentice 
and the apprentice is obliged to attend classes in 
the appropriate subject in a nearby institution one 
day a week, as well as to work the remaining five 
days. The system is reminiscent of the medieval 
guilds and it does provide cheap labor for the em- 
ployers and good, practical experience for the ap- 




Danish primary school children in Copenhagen listening to the King's speech 



tical subjects and which may be followed by as 
much as two more years of school work on a vol- 
untary basis, with very pronojunced emphasis on 
vocational training. 

The pupil of vocational bent who leaves 
school at the end of the seventh, eighth, or 
ninth year must obtain an apprenticeship by 
himself. Once this is done, the employer will 
pay for any books or further tuition, as well as 
for the necessary health insurance and medical 
care, and will furnish a small salary. At the end 
of six months the "contract" can be terminated 



prentices. Some regulation of the quality of the 
instruction on the part of the employer is in ef- 
fect, in that the apprentice takes an examination 
at the end of his training period. If he should 
fail, he is entitled to collect full compensation for 
his work from the employer. 

The curriculum for the first five years of the 
primary school, taken by all the as yet undifferen- 
tiated pupils, includes such subjects as written 
and oral Danish, arithmetic, religious knowledge, 
history, geogi'aphy, nature study, physical edu- 

Continued on Page 23 



8 



THE HARRY A. SPRAGUE LIBRARY 

PuiisiuKNT Emhrihis Hakrv a. Sprague 

One of the more important names in the development of teacher education 
in the United States is that of Dr. Harry A. Sprague, whose signal contribution 
was made largely between the years 192 1 and 19^1, when he was President 
at Montclair. Coming from the superintcndency of the schools of Summit, 
Dr. Sprague brought to his new career great vision of what might be accom- 
plished; a practical understanding of schools and of teaching; and an ex- 
traordinary capacity to lead and to find leaders. He persuaded the State Board 
of Education to authorize a bold step and to adopt unusual plans. The program 
that he set up at Montclair produced fine teachers. Soon the essence of the 
Montclair program came to be emulated in various parts of the country, and 
to be studied by delegations of school men and women from all over the earth. 

Having found teachers and leaders, Dr. Sprague dreamed of adequate 
facilities: of classrooms and laboratories, and of a great library to stand as 
the heart and center of the whole college. Montclair may not yet have fully 
caught up with his dream. But in naming this fine library in his honor, we 
now have the one building he longed for most. 

— L. H.C. 




Tlu' Firon/.t' Hu.><l of Dr. S|)ramie, 

Ihe Gift of 

Many Alumni and IVit-nds, 

i.s the work of 
Archimedes Giacomantonio 




The Harry A. Sprague Library at Montclair Slate, Dedicated May 2, 1964 




Individual study tables, with ready access to the needed books . . . 

id 




le exhibition area in the front lobby, where there is always something new in art . . . 

Phofogiiiph.' .He. h) Gene Winhtiilf 
11 




A number of "group study rooms" for those who are working together on projects . . 




All of the current periodicals, in an atmosphere for study or for leisure reading 

12 



I 





XvvwW*^"'^' 







The 
Money 



Behind 
Our Colleges 



ARE America's colleges and universities in good financial health — 
XjL or bad? 

Arc they pricing themselves out of many students' reach? Or can — and 
should — students and their parents carry a greater share of the cost of 
higher education? 

Can state and local governments appropriate more money for higher 
education? Or is there a danger that taxpayers may "revolt"? 

Does the federal government — now the third-largest provider of funds 
to higher education — pose a threat to the freedom of our colleges and 
universities? Or is the "threat" groundless, and should higher education 
seek even greater federal support? 

Can private donors — business corporations, religious denominations, 
foundations, alumni, and alumnae — increase their gifts to colleges 
and universities as greatly as some authorities say is necessary? Or has 
private philanthropy gone about as far as it can go? 

There is no set of "right" answers to such questions. College and 
university financing is complicated, confusing, and often controversial, 
and even the administrators of the nation's institutions of higher learning 
are not of one mind as to what the best answers are. 

One thing is certain: financing higher education is not a subject for 
"insiders," alone. Everybody has a stake in it. 




THESE DAYS, most of America's colleges and universities manage 
to make ends meet. Some do not: occasionally, a college shuts 
its doors, or changes its character, because in the jungle of educational 
financing it has lost the fiscal fitness to survive. Certain others, qualified 
observers suspect, hang onto life precariously, sometimes sacrificing 
educational quality to conserve their meager resources. But most U.S. 
colleges and universities survive, and many do so v^^ith some distinction. 
On the surface, at least, they appear to be enjoying their best financial 
health in history. 

The voice of the bulldozer is heard in our land, as new buildings go 
up at a record rate. Faculty salaries in most institutions — at critically 
low levels not long ago — are, if still a long distance from the high-tax 
brackets, substantially better than they used to be. Appropriations of 
state funds for higher education are at an all-time high. The federal 
government is pouring money into the campuses at an unprecedented 
rate. Private gifts and grants were never more numerous. More students 
than ever before, paying higher fees than ever before, crowd the class- 
rooms. 

How real is this apparent prosperity? Are there danger signals? One 
purpose of this report is to help readers find out. 



Where U.S. colleges 
and universities 
get their income 



How DO colleges and universities get the money they run on? 
By employing a variety of financing processes and philosophies. 
By conducting, says one participant, the world's busiest patchwork 
quil ting-bee. 

U.S. higher education's balance sheets — the latest of which shows the 
country's colleges and universities receiving more than $7.3 billion in 
current-fund income — have been known to bafile even those men and 
women who are at home in the depths of a corporate financial state- 
ment. Perusing them, one learns that even the basic terms have lost their 
old, familiar meanings. 

"Private" institutions of higher education, for example, receive enor- 
mous sums of "public" money — including more federal research funds 
than go to all so-called "public" colleges and universities. 

And "public" institutions of higher education own some of the 
largest "private" endowments. (The endowment of the University of 
Texas, for instance, has a higher book value than Yale's.) 

When the English language fails him so completely, can higher edu- 
cation's balance-sheet reader be blamed for his bafflement? 



IN A RECENT year, U.S. colleges and universities got their current-fund 
income in this fashion: 
20.7% came from student tuition and fees. 

18.9% came from the federal government. ; 

22.9% came from state governments. | 

2.6% came from local governments. [ 

6.4% came from private gifts and grants. 

COPYRIGHT 1964 BY EDITORIAL PROJECTS FOR EDUCATION, INC. 



9.4% was other educational and general income, including income 
from endowments. 

1 7.5% came from auxiliary enterprises, such as dormitories, cafeterias, 
and dining halls. 

1.6% was student-aid income. 

Such a breakdown, of course, does not match the income picture 
at any actual college or university. It includes institutions of many shapes, 
sizes, and financial policies. Some heat their classrooms and pay their 
professors largely with money collected from students. Others receive 
relatively little from this source. Some balance their budgets with large 
sums from governments. Others not only receive no such funds, but may 
actively spurn them. Some draw substantial interest from their endow- 
ments and receive gifts and grants from a variety of sources. 

"There is something very reassuring about this assorted group of 
patrons of higher education," writes a college president. "They are 
all acknowledging the benefits they derive from a strong system of col- 
leges and universities. Churches that get clergy, communities that get 
better citizens, businesses that get better employees — all share in the 
costs of the productive machinery, along with the student . . . ." 

In the campus-to-campus variations there is often a deep significance; 
an institution's method of financing may tell as much about its philos- 
ophies as do the most eloquent passages in its catalogue. In this sense, 
one should understand that whether a college or university receives 
enough income to survive is only part of the story. How and where it 
gets its money may have an equally profound effect upon its destiny. 




PRIVATE INSTITUTIONS: 
34.3% of their inconae 
comes from student fees. 



from Students 20.7 per cent 



LAST FALL, some 4.4 million young Americans were enrolled in the 
i nation's colleges and universities — 2.7 million in public institutions, 
1.7 million in private. 

For most of them, the enrollment process included a stop at a cashier's 
office, to pay tuition and other educational fees. 

How much they paid varied considerably from one campus to another. 
For those attending public institutions, according to a U.S. government 
survey, the median in 1962-63 was $170 per year. For those attending 
private institutions, the median was S690 — four times as high. 

There were such differences as these: 

In public universities, the median charge was $268. 

In public liberal arts colleges, it was $168. 

In public teachers colleges, it was $208. 

In public junior colleges, it was $113. 

Such educational fees, which do not include charges for meals or dormi- 




PUBLIC INSTITUTIONS: 
10% of their income 
comes from student fees. 



TUITION continued 



tory rooms, brought the nation's public institutions of higher education a 
total of $415 million — one-tenth of their entire current-fund income. 

By comparison: 

In private universities, the median charge was $1,038. 

In private liberal arts colleges, it was $751. 

In private teachers colleges, it was $575. 

In private junior colleges, it was $502. 

In 1961-62, such student payments brought the private colleges and 
universities a total of $1.1 billion — more than one-third of their entire 
current -fund income. 

From all students, in all types of institution, America's colleges and 
universities thus collected a total of $1.5 billion in tuition and other 
educational fees. 



Are tuition charges 

becoming 

too burdensome? 




No NATION puts more stock in maximum college attendance by 
its youth than does the United States," says an American report 
to an international committee. "Yet no nation expects those receiving 
higher education to pay a greater share of its cost." 

The leaders of both private and public colleges and universities are 
worried by this paradox. 

Private-institution leaders are worried because they have no desire to 
see their campuses closed to all but the sons and daughters of well-to-do 
famiUes. But, in effect, this is what may happen if students must con- 
tinue to be charged more than a third of the costs of providing higher 
education — costs that seem to be eternally on the rise. (Since one-third 
is the average for all private colleges and universities, the students' 
share of costs is lower in some private colleges and universities, con- 
siderably higher in others.) 

Public-institution leaders are worried because, in the rise of tuition 
and other student fees, they see the eventual collapse of a cherished 
American dream: equal educational opportunity for all. Making students 
pay a greater part of the cost of public higher education is no mere 
theoretical threat; it is already taking place, on a broad scale. Last year, 
half of the state universities and land-grant institutions surveyed by 
the federal government reported that, in the previous 12 months, they 
had had to increase the tuition and fees charged to home-state students. 
More than half had raised their charges to students who came from 
other states. 

CAN THE RISE in tuition rates be stopped — at either public or pri- 
vate colleges and universities? 
A few vocal critics think it should not be; that tuition should, in fact, 
go up. Large numbers of students can afford considerably more than 
they are now paying, the critics say. 

"Just look at the student parking lots. You and I are helping to pay 
for those kids' cars with our taxes," one campus visitor said last fall. 
Asked an editorial in a Tulsa newspaper: 



"Why should taxpayers, most of whom have not had the advantage 
of college education, continue to subsidize students in state-supported 
universities who have enrolled, generally, for the frank purpose of 
eventually earning more than the average citizen?" 

An editor in Omaha had similar questions: 

"Why shouldn't tuition cover more of the rising costs? And why 
shouldn't young people be willing to pay higher tuition fees, and if 
necessary borrow the money against their expected earnings? And why 
shouldn't tuition charges have a direct relationship to the prospective 
earning power — less in the case of the poorer-paid professions and 
more in the case of those which are most remunerative?" 

Such questions, or arguments-in-the-form-of-questions, miss the 
main point of tax-supported higher education, its supporters say. 

"The primary beneficiary of higher education is society," says a joint 
statement of the State Universities Association and the Association of 
State Universities and Land-Grant Colleges. 

"The process of making students pay an increasing proportion of the 
costs of higher education will, if continued, be disastrous to American 
society and to American national strength. 

"It is based on the theory that higher education benefits only the 
individual and that he should therefore pay immediately and directly 
for its cost — through borrowing if necessary. . . . 

"This is a false theory. ... It is true that great economic and other 
benefits do accrue to the individual, and it is the responsibility of the 
individual to help pay for the education of others on this account — 
through taxation and through voluntary support of colleges and uni- 
versities, in accordance with the benefits received. But even from the 
narrowest of economic standpoints, a general responsibility rests on 
society to finance higher education. The businessman who has things 
to sell is a beneficiary, whether he attends college or not, whether his 
children do or not . . . ." 

Says a university president: "I am worried, as are most educators, 
about the possibility that we will price ourselves out of the market." 

For private colleges — already forced to charge for a large part of the 
cost of providing higher education — the problem is particularly acute. 
As costs continue to rise, where will private colleges get the income to 
meet them, if not from tuition? 

After studying 100 projections of their budgets by private liberal 
arts colleges, Sidney G. Tickton, of the Fund for the Advancement of 
Education, flatly predicted: 

"Tuition will be much higher ten years hence." 

Already, Mr. Tickton pointed out, tuition at many private colleges is 
beyond the reach of large numbers of students, and scholarship aid 
isn't large enough to help. "Private colleges are beginning to realize 
that they haven't been taking many impecunious students in recent 
years. The figures show that they can be expected to take an even smaller 
proportion in the future. 



WMM^. : Jls 




Or should students 
carry a heavier 
share of the costs? 



CONTINUED 



TUITION continued 




PRIVATE INSTITUTIONS: 

1.4% of their income 

comes from the states. 



"The facts are indisputable. Private colleges may not like to admit 
this or think of themselves as educators of only the well-heeled, but the 
signs are that they aren't likely to be able to do very much about it in 
the decade ahead." 

What is the outlook at public institutions? Members of the Asso- 
ciation of State Colleges and Universities were recently asked to make 
some predictions on this point. The consensus: 

They expect the tuition and fees charged to their home-state students 
to rise from a median of $200 in 1962-63 to $230, five years later. In 
the previous five years, the median tuition had increased from $150 to 
$200. Thus the rising-tuition trend would not be stopped, they felt — but 
it would be slowed. 

THE ONLY alternative to higher tuition, whether at public or private 
institutions, is increased income from other sources — taxes, gifts, 
grants. If costs continue to increase, such income will have to in- 
crease not merely in proportion, but at a faster rate — if student charges 
are to be held at their present levels. 

What are the prospects for these other sources of income? See the 
pages that follow. 



22.9 per cent from States 




PUBLIC INSTITUTIONS: 

39.7% of their income 

comes from the states. 



COLLEGES and universities depend upon many sources for their fi- 
nancial support. But one source towers high above all the rest: the 
American taxpayer. 

The taxpayer provides funds for higher education through all levels 
of government — federal, state, and local. 

Together, in the most recent year reported, governments supplied 44.4 
per cent of the current-fund income of all U.S. colleges and universities— 
a grand total of $3.2 billion. 

This was more than twice as much as all college and university stu- 
dents paid in tuition fees. It was nearly seven times the total of all 
private gifts and grants. 

By far the largest sums for educational purposes came from state and 
local governments: $1.9 billion, altogether. (Ahhough the federal 
government's over-all expenditures on college and university campuses 
were large— nearly $1.4 billion— all but $262 million was earmarked for 
research.) 

STATES HAVE HAD a financial interest in higher education since the 
nation's founding. (Even before independence, Harvard and other 
colonial colleges had received government support.) The first state uni- 
versity, the University of Georgia, was chartered in 1785. As settlers 



■y'yy.-'y.-^'yyvyy.:: 



■^. 



moved west, each new state received two townships of land from the 
federal government, to support an institution of higher education. 

But the true flourishing of publicly supported higher education came 
after the Civil War. State universities grew. Land-grant colleges were 
founded, fostered by the Morrill Act of 1862. Much later, local govern- 
ments entered the picture on a large scale, particularly in the junior- 
college field. 

Today, the U.S. system of publicly supported colleges and universities 
is, however one measures it, the world's greatest. It comprises 743 in- 
stitutions (345 local, 386 state, 12 federal), compared with a total of 
1,357 institutions that are privately controlled. 

Enrollments in the public colleges and universities are awesome, and 
certain to become more so. 

As recently as 1950, half of all college and university students attended 
private institutions. No longer — and probably never again. Last fall, 
the public colleges and universities enrolled 60 per cent — one million 
more students than did the private institutions. And, as more and more 
young Americans go to college in the years ahead, both the number and 
the proportion attending publicly controlled institutions will soar. 

By 1970, according to one expert projection, there will be 7 milhon 
college and university students. Public institutions will enroll 67 per cent 
of them. 

By 1980, there will be 10 million students. Public institutions will 
enroll 75 per cent of them. 




THE FINANCIAL implications of such enrollments are enormous. 
Will state and local governments be able to cope with them? 

In the latest year for which figures have been tabulated, the current- 
fund income of the nation's public colleges and universities was $4. 1 
billion. Of this total, state and local governments supplied more than 
$1.8 billion, or 44 per cent. To this must be added $790 million in capital 
outlays for higher education, including $613 million for new construc- 
tion. 

In the fast-moving world of public-college and university financing, 
such heady figures are already obsolete. At present, reports the Commit- 
tee for Economic Development, expenditures for higher education are 
the fastest-growing item of state and local-government financing. Be- 
tween 1962 and 1968, while expenditures for all state and local-govern- 
ment activities will increase by about 50 per cent, expenditures for higher 
education will increase 120 per cent. In 1962, such expenditures repre- 
sented 9.5 per cent of state and local tax income; in 1968, they will take 
12.3 per cent. 

Professor M.M. Chambers, of the University of Michigan, has totted 
up each state's tax-fund appropriations to colleges and universities (see 
list, next page). He cautions readers not to leap to interstate compari- 
sons; there are too many differences between the practices of the 50 
states to make such an exercise valid. But the differences do not obscure 



Will state taxes 

be sufficient to meet 

the rocketing demand? 



CONTINUED 



STATE FUNDS continued 



State Tax Funds 

For Higher Education 



Fiscal 1963 

Alabama $22,051,000 

Alaska 3,301,000 

Arizona 20,422,000 

Arkansas 16,599,000 

California.... 243,808,000 

Colorado 29,916,000 

Connecticut... 15,948,000 

Delaware 5,094,000 

Florida 46,043,000 

Georgia 32,162,000 

Hawaii 10,778,000 

Idaho 10,137,000 

Illinois 113,043,000 

Indiana 62,709,000 

Iowa 38,914,000 

Kansas 35,038,000 

Kentucky 29,573,000 

Louisiana.... 46,760,000 

Maine 7,429,000 

Maryland 29,809,000 

Massachusetts. 16,503,000 

Michigan 104,082,000 

Minnesota... 44,058,000 

Mississippi... 17,500,000 

Missouri 33,253,000 



Change from 1961 

-$346,000 - 15% 

+ 978,000 +42% 

+ 4,604,000 +29% 

+ 3,048,000 +22.5% 

+48,496,000 +25% 

+ 6,634,000 +28.25% 

+ 2,868,000 +22% 

+ 1,360,000 +36.5% 

+ 8,780,000 +23.5% 

+ 4,479,000 +21% 

+ 3,404,000 +46% 

+ 1,337,000 +15.25% 

+24,903,000 +28.25% 

+12,546,000 +25% 

+ 4,684,000 +13.5% 

+ 7,099,000 +25.5% 

+ 9,901,000 +50.25% 

+ 2,203,000 + 5% 

+ 1,830,000 +32.5% 

+ 3,721,000 +20.5% 

+ 3,142,000 +23.5% 

+ 6,066,000 + 6% 

+ 5,808,000 +15.25% 

+ 1,311,000 + 8% 

+ 7,612,000 +29.5% 



continued opposite 



the fact that, between fiscal year 1961 and fiscal 1963, all states except 
Alabama and Montana increased their tax-fund appropriations to 
higher education. The average was a whopping 24.5 per cent. 

Can states continue to increase appropriations? No one answer will 
serve from coast to coast. 

Poor states will have a particularly difficult problem. The Southern 
Regional Education Board, in a recent report, told why: 

"Generally, the states which have the greatest potential demand for 
higher education are the states which have the fewest resources to meet 
the demand. Rural states like Alabama, Arkansas, Mississippi, and 
South Carolina have large numbers of college-age young people and 
relatively small per-capita income levels." Such states, the report con- 
cluded, can achieve educational excellence only if they use a larger pro- 
portion of their resources than does the nation as a whole. 

A leading Western educator summed up his state's problem as fol- 
lows: 

"Our largest age groups, right now, are old people and youngsters 
approaching college age. Both groups depend heavily upon the pro- 
ducing, taxpaying members of our economy. The elderly demand state- 
financed welfare; the young demand state-financed education. 

"At present, however, the producing part of our economy is com- 
posed largely of 'depression babies' — a comparatively small group. For 
the next few years, their per-capita tax burden will be pretty heavy, and 
it may be hard to get them to accept any big increases." 

But the alternatives to more tax money for public colleges and uni- 
versities — higher tuition rates, the turning away of good students — may 
be even less acceptable to many taxpayers. Such is the hope of those 
who believe in low-cost, public higher education. 

EVERY projection of future needs shows that state and local gov- 
ernments must increase their appropriations vastly, if the people's 
demands for higher education are to be met. The capacity of a gov- 
ernment to make such increases, as a California study has pointed out, 
depends on three basic elements: 

1) The size of the "stream of income" from which the support for 
higher education must be drawn; 

2) The efficiency and effectiveness of the tax system; and 

3) The will of the people to devote enough money to the purpose. 
Of these elements, the third is the hardest to analyze, in economic 

terms. It may well be the most crucial. 

Here is why: 

In their need for increased state and local funds, colleges and univer- 
sities will be in competition with growing needs for highways, urban 
renewal, and all the other services that citizens demand of their govern- 
ments. How the available tax funds will be allocated will depend, in 
large measure, on how the people rank their demands, and how insist- 
ently they make the demands known. 



"No one should know better than our alumni the importance of 
having society invest its money and faith in the education of its young 
people," Allan W. Ostar, director of the Oflice of Institutional Research, 
said recently. "Yet all too often we find alumni of state universities 
who are not willing to provide the same opportunity to future genera- 
tions that they enjoyed. Our alumni should be leading the fight for 
adequate tax support of our public colleges and universities. 

"If they don't, who will?" 

To SOME Americans, the growth of state-supported higher educa- 
tion, compared with that of the private colleges and universities, 
has been disturbing for other reasons than its effects upon the tax rate. 

One cause of their concern is a fear that government dollars inevitably 
will be accompanied by a dangerous sort of government control. The 
fabric of higher education, they point out, is laced with controversy, 
new ideas, and challenges to all forms of the status quo. Faculty 
members, to be effective teachers and researchers, must be free of 
reprisal or fears of reprisal. Students must be encouraged to experiment, 
to question, to disagree. 

The best safeguard, say those who have studied the question, is legal 
autonomy for state-supported higher education: independent boards 
of regents or trustees, positive protections against interference by state 
agencies, post-audits of accounts but no line-by-line political control 
over budget proposals — the latter being a device by which a legislature 
might be able to cut the salary of an "offensive" professor or stifle 
another's research. Several state constitutions already guarantee such 
autonomy to state universities. But in some other states, college and 
university administrators must be as adept at politicking as at edu- 
cating, if their institutions are to thrive. 

Another concern has been voiced by many citizens. What will be the 
effects upon the country's private colleges, they ask, if the public- 
higher-education establishment continues to expand at its present rate? 
With state-financed institutions handling more and more students — 
and, generally, charging far lower tuition fees than the private insti- 
tutions can afford — how can the small private colleges hope to survive? 

President Robert D. Calkins, of the Brookings Institution, has said: 

"Thus far, no promising alternative to an increased reliance on 
public institutions and public support has appeared as a means of 
dealing with the expanding demand for education. The trend may be 
checked, but there is nothing in sight to reverse it. . . . 

"Many weak private institutions may have to face a choice between 
insolvency, mediocrity, or qualifying as public institutions. But en- 
larged opportunities for many private and public institutions will exist, 
often through cooperation By pooling resources, all may be strength- 
ened.... In view of the recent support the liberal arts colleges haveelicited, 
the more enterprising ones, at least, have an undisputed role for future 
service." 






Fiscal 1963 


Change from 1961 


Montana. ... 


$11,161,000 


-$ 70,000 


- 0.5% 


Nebraska. .. 


17,078,000 


-f- 1,860,000 


+ 12.25% 


Nevada 


5,299,000 


+ 1,192,000 


+29% 


New Hampshi 


re 4,733,000 


+ 627,000 


+ 15.25% 


New Jersey 


34,079,000 


+ 9,652,000 


+39.5% 


New Mexico 


14,372,000 


+ 3,133,000 


+28% 


New York . 


156,556.000 


+ 67,051,000 


+75% 


North Caroline 


i 36,532,000 


+ 6.192,000 


+20.5% 


North Dakota 


10,386,000 


-1- 1,133,000 


+ 12.25% 


Ohio 


55,620,000 


-t- 10,294 ,000 


+22.5% 


Oklahoma . 


30,020,000 


+ 3,000,000 


+11% 


Oregon 


33,423,000 


+ 4,704,000 


+ 16.25% 


Pennsylvania 


56,187,000 


+ 12,715,000 


+29.5% 


Rhode Island. 


7,697.000 


+ 2,426,000 


+46% 


South Carolina 15,440,000 


+ 2.299,000 


+ 17.5% 


South Dakota 


8.702,000 


+ 574,000 


+ 7% 


Tennessee . 


22,359,000 


+ 5,336,000 


+31.25% 


Texas 


83,282,000 


+ 16.327,000 


+24.5% 


Utah 


15,580,000 


+ 2,441,000 


+18.5% 


Vermont . . . 


3,750,000 


+ 351,000 


+ 10.25% 


Virginia ... 


28,859,000 


+ 5,672.000 


+24.5% 


Washington 


51,757.000 


+ 9,749.000 


+23.25% 


West Virginia 


20,743,000 


+ 3,824,000 


+22.5% 


Wisconsin . . . 


44,670.000 


+ 7,253,000 


+ 19.5% 


Wyoming . . 


5,599,000 


+ 864,000 


+ 18.25% 



TOTALS $1,808,825,000 +$357,499,000 
WEIGHTED AVERAGE +24.5% 



CONTINUED 



18.9 per cent from Washington 




PRIVATE INSTITUTIONS: 

19.1% of their income 

comes from Washington. 



I SEEM TO SPEND half my life on the jets between here and Washing- 
ton," said an official of a private university on the West Coast, not 
long ago. 

"We've decided to man a Washington office, full time," said the 
spokesman for a state university, a few miles away. 

For one in 20 U.S. institutions of higher education, the federal govern- 
ment in recent years has become one of the biggest facts of financial 
life. For some it is the biggest. "The not-so-jolly long-green giant," one 
man calls it. 

Washington is no newcomer to the campus scene. The difference, 
today, is one of scale. Currently the federal government spends between 
$1 biUion and $2 billion a year at colleges and universities. So vast are 
the expenditures, and so diverse are the government channels through 
which they flow to the campuses, that a precise figure is impossible to 
come by. The U.S. Office of Education's latest estimate, covering fiscal 
1962, is that Washington was the source of $1,389 billion — or nearly 
19 per cent — of higher education's total current-fund income. 

"It may readily be seen," said Congresswoman Edith Green of Ore- 
gon, in a report last year to the House Committee on Education and 
Labor, "that the question is not whether there shall be federal aid to 
education." 

Federal aid exists. It is big and is growing. 




PUBLIC INSTITUTIONS: 

18.6% of their income 

comes from Washington. 



THE word aid, however, is misleading. Most of the federal govern- 
ment's expenditures in higher education — more than four and a 
half times as much as for all other purposes combined — are for research 
that the government needs. Thus, in a sense, the government is the pur- 
chaser of a commodity; the universities, like any other producer with 
whom the government does business, supply that commodity. The re- 
lationship is one of quid pro quo. 

Congresswoman Green is quick to acknowledge this fact: 

"What has not been . . . clear is the dependency of the federal govern- 
ment on the educational system. The government relies upon the uni- 
versities to do those things which cannot be done by government person- 
nel in government facilities. 

"It turns to the universities to conduct basic research in the fields 
of agriculture, defense, medicine, public health, and the conquest of 
space, and even for managing and staffing of many governmental re- 
search laboratories. 

"It relies on university faculty to judge the merits of proposed re- 
search. 

"It turns to them for the management and direction of its foreign aid 
programs in underdeveloped areas of the world. 



"It relies on them for training, in every conceivable field, of govern- 
ment personnel — both military and civilian." 



I 



THh FULL RANGE of federal-govemment relationships with U.S. high- 
er education can only be suggested in the scope of this report. 
Here are some examples: 

Land-grant colleges had their origins in the Morrill Land Grant Col- 
lege Act of 1862, when the federal government granted public lands to 
the states for the support of colleges "to teach such branches of learning 
as are related to agriculture and the mechanic arts," but not excluding 
science and classics. Today there are 68 such institutions. In fiscal 1962, 
the federal government distributed $10.7 million in land-grant funds. 

The armed forces operate officers training programs in the colleges and 
universities — their largest source of junior officers. 

Student loans, under the National Defense Education Act, are the 
major form of federal assistance to undergraduate students. They are 
administered by 1,534 participating colleges and universities, which 
select recipients on the basis of need and collect the loan repayments. In 
fiscal 1962, more than 1 70,000 undergraduates and nearly 15,000 gradu- 
ate students borrowed $90 million in this way. 

"The success of the federal loan program," says the president of a 
college for women, "is one of the most significant indexes of the im- 
portant place the government has in financing private as well as public 
educational institutions. The women's colleges, by the way, used to scoff 
at the loan program. 'Who would marry a girl with a debt?' people 
asked. 'A girl's dowry shouldn't be a mortgage,' they said. But now 
more than 25 per cent of our girls have government loans, and they 
don't seem at all perturbed." 

Fellowship grants to graduate students, mostly for advanced work in 
science or engineering, supported more than 35,000 persons in fiscal 
1962. Cost to the government: nearly $104 million. In addition, around 
20,000 graduate students served as paid assistants on government- 
sponsored university research projects. 

Dormitory loans through the college housing program of the Housing 
and Home Finance Agency have played a major role in enabling col- 
leges and universities to build enough dormitories, dining halls, student 
unions, and health facilities for their burgeoning enrollments. Between 
1951 and 1961, loans totaling more than $1.5 billion were approved. 
Informed observers believe this program finances from 35 to 45 per 
cent of the total current construction of such facilities. 

Grants for research facilities and equipment totaled $98.5 million in 
fiscal 1962, the great bulk of which went to universities conducting 
scientific research. The National Science Foundation, the National 
Institutes of Health, the National Aeronautics and Space Administra- 
tion, and the Atomic Energy Commission are the principal sources of 
such grants. A Department of Defense program enables institutions to 
build facilities and write off the cost. 

To help finance new classrooms, libraries, and laboratories, Congress 
last year passed a $1,195 billion college aid program and, said President 



Can federal dollars 
properly be called 
federal "aid"? 




FEDERAL FUNDS continued 




38% 




of Federal research funds 


go to these 10 institutions: 


U. of California 


U. of Illinois 


Mass. Inst, of Technology 


Stanford U. 


Columbia U. 


U. of Chicago 


U. of Michigan 


U. of Minnesota 


Harvard U. 


Cornell U. 



Johnson, thus was "on its way to doing more for education than any 
since the land-grant college bill was passed 100 years ago." 

Support for medical education through loans to students and funds for 
construction was authorized by Congress last fall, when it passed a $236 
miUion.program. 

To strengthen the curriculum in various ways, federal agencies spent 
approximately $9.2 million in fiscal 1962. Samples: A $2 miUion Na- 
tional Science Foundation program to improve the content of science 
courses; a $2 miUion Office of Education program to help colleges and 
universities develop, on a matching-fund basis, language and area-study 
centers; a $2 miUion Public Health Service program to expand, create, 
and improve graduate work in public health. 

Support for International programs involving U.S. colleges and univer- 
sities came from several federal sources. Examples: Funds spent by the 
Peace Corps for training and research totaled more than $7 million. The 
Agency for International Development employed some 70 institutions 
to administer its projects overseas, at a cost of about $26 milhon. The 
State Department paid nearly $6 milhon to support more than 2,500 
foreign students on U.S. campuses, and an additional SI. 5 miUion to 
support more than 700 foreign professors. 




59% 

of Federal research funds 
go to the above 10 + these 15: 



U. of Wisconsin 
U. of Pennsylvania 
New York U. 
Ohio State U. 
U. of Washington 
Johns Hopkins U. 
U. of Texas 



Yale U. 

Princeton U. 

Iowa State U. 

Cal. Inst, of Technology 

U. of Pittsburgh 

Northwestern U. 

Brown U. 

U. of Maryland 



BUT the greatest federal influence, on many U.S. campuses, comes 
through the government's expenditures for research. 

As one would expect, most of such expenditures are made at univer- 
sities, rather than at colleges (which, with some exceptions, conduct 
little research). 

In the 1963 Godkin Lectures at Harvard, the University of CaUfornia's 
President Clark Kerr called the federal government's support of research, 
starting in World War II, one of the "two great impacts [which], beyond 
all other forces, have molded the modern American university system 
and made it distinctive." (The other great impact: the land-grant coUege 
movement.) 

At the institutions where they are concentrated, federal research funds 
have had marked eff'ects. A self-study by Harvard, for example, revealed 
that 90 per cent of the research expenditures in the university's physics 
department were paid for by the federal government; 67 per cent in the 
chemistry department; and 95 per cent in the division of engineering and 
applied physics. 

Is xms government-dollar dominance in many universities' research 
budgets a healthy development? 
After analyzing the role of the federal government on their campuses, 
a group of universities reporting to the Carnegie Foundation for the 
Advancement of Teaching agreed that "the effects [of government ex- 
penditures for campus-based research projects] have, on balance, been 
salutary." 
Said the report of one institution: 
"The opportunity to make expenditures of this size has permitted a 



research effort far superior to anything that could have been done with- 
out recourse to government sponsors. . . . 

"Any university that declined to participate in the growth of spon- 
sored research would have had to pay a high price in terms of the quality 
of its faculty in the science and engineering areas. . . ." 

However, the university-government relationship is not without its 
irritations. 

One of the most irksome, say many institutions, is the government's 
failure to reimburse them fully for the "indirect costs" they incur in 
connection with federally sponsored research — costs of administration, 
of libraries, of operating and maintaining their physical plant. If the 
government fails to cover such costs, the universities must — often by 
drawing upon funds that might otherwise be spent in strengthening 
areas that are not favored with large amounts of federal support, e.g., 
the humanities. 

Some see another problem: faculty members may be attracted to cer- 
tain research areas simply because federal money is plentiful there. 
"This . . . may tend to channel their efforts away from other important 
research and . . . from their teaching and public-service responsibilities," 
one university study said. 

The government's emphasis upon science, health, and engineering, 
some persons believe, is another drawback to the federal research ex- 
penditures. "Between departments, a form of imbalance may result," 
said a recent critique. "The science departments and their research may 
grow and prosper. The departments of the humanities and social sci- 
ences may continue, at best, to maintain their status quo.'''' 

"There needs to be a National Science Foundation for the humani- 
ties," says the chief academic officer of a Southern university which gets 
approximately 20 per cent of its annual budget from federal grants. 

"Certainly government research programs create imbalances within 
departments and between departments," said the spokesman for a lead- 
ing Catholic institution, "but so do many other influences at work within 
a university — Imbalances must be lived with and made the most of, if 
a level of uniform mediocrity is not to prevail." 

THE CONCENTRATION of federal funds in a few institutions — usually 
the institutions which already are financially and educationally 
strong — makes sense from the standpoint of the quid pro quo philoso- 
phy that motivates the expenditure of most government funds. The 
strong research-oriented universities, obviously, can deliver the commod- 
ity the government wants. 

But, consequently, as a recent Carnegie report noted, "federal support 
is, for many colleges and universities, not yet a decisive or even a highly 
influential fact of academic life." 

Why, some persons ask, should not the government conduct equally 
well-financed programs in order to improve those colleges and uni- 
versities which are not strong — and thus raise the quality of U.S. higher 
education as a whole? 




90% 

of Federal research funds 

go to the 25 opposite -\- these 75: 



Pennsylvania Stale U. 

DukeU. 

U. of Southern Cal. 

Indiana U. 

U. of Rochester 

Washington U. 

U. of Colorado 

Purdue U. 

George Washington U. 

Western Reserve U. 

Florida State U. 

Yeshiva U. 

U. of Florida 

U. of Oregon 

U. of Utah 

Tulane U. 

U. of N. Carolina 

Michigan State U. 

Polytechnic Inst, of 

Brooklyn 
U. of Miami 
U. of Tennessee 
U. of Iowa 
Texas A. & M. Col. 
Rensselaer Polytechnic Inst. 
U. of Kansas 
U. of Arizona 
Vanderbilt U. 
Syracuse U. 
Oregon State U. 
Ga. Inst, of Technology 
U. of Virginia 
Rutgers U. 
Louisiana State U. 
Carnegie I nst. of Technology 
U. of Oklahoma 
N. Carolma State U. 
Illinois Inst, of Technology 



Wayne State U. 

Baylor U. 

U. of Denver 

U. of Missouri 

U. of Georgia 

U. of Arkansas 

U. of Nebraska 

Tufts U. 

U. of Alabama 

New Mexico State U. 

Washington Stale U. 

Boston U. 

U. of Buffalo 

U. of Kentucky 

U. of Cincinnati 

Stevens Inst, of Technology 

Oklahoma State U. 

Georgetown U. 

Medical Col. of Virginia 

Mississippi State U. 

Colorado State U. 

Auburn U. 

Dartmouth Col. 

Emory U. 

U. of Vermont 

Brandeis U. 

Marquette U. 

Jefferson Medical Col. 

Va. Polytechnic Inst. 

U. of Louisville 

Kansas State U. 

St. Louis U. 

West Virginia U. 

U. of Hawaii 

U. of Mississippi 

Notre Dame U. 

U. of New Mexico 

Temple U. 



CONTINUED 



FEDERAL FUNDS continued 



This question is certain to be warmly debated in years to come. 
Coupled with philosophical support or opposition will be this pressing 
practical question: can private money, together with state and local 
government funds, solve higher education's financial problems, without 
resort to Washington? Next fall, when the great, long-predicted "tidal 
wave" of students at last reaches the nation's campuses, the time of 
testing will begin. 



6.4 per cent from Gifts and Grants 




PRIVATE INSTITUTIONS: 

11.6% of their income 

comes from gifts and grants. 




PUBLIC INSTITUTIONS: 

2.3% of their income 

comes from gifts and grants. 



As A SOURCE of income for U.S. higher education, private gifts and 
. grants are a comparatively small slice on the pie charts: 1 1.6% for 
the private colleges and universities, only 2.3% for public. 

But, to both types of institution, private gifts and grants have an im- 
portance far greater than these percentages suggest. 

"For us," says a representative of a public university in the Midwest, 
"private funds mean the difference between the adequate and the ex- 
cellent. The university needs private funds to serve purposes for which 
state funds cannot be used: scholarships, fellowships, student loans, the 
purchase of rare books and art objects, research seed grants, experi- 
mental programs." 

"Because the state provides basic needs," says another public- 
university man, "every gift dollar can be used to provide for a margin 
of excellence." 

Says the spokesman for a private liberal arts college: "We must seek 
gifts and grants as we have never sought them before. They are our one 
hope of keeping educational quality up, tuition rates down, and the 
student body democratic. I'll even go so far as to say they are our main 
hope of keeping the college, as we know it, alive." 



FROM 1954-55 through 1960-61, the independent Council for Finan- 
cial Aid to Education has made a biennial survey of the country's 
colleges and universities, to learn how much private aid they received. 
In four surveys, the institutions answering the council's questionnaires 
reported they had received more than $2.4 billion in voluntary gifts. 

Major private universities received $1,046 million. 

Private coeducational colleges received $628 million. 

State universities received nearly $320 million. 

Professional schools received $171 million. 

Private women's colleges received $126 million. 

Private men's colleges received $117 million. 

Junior colleges received $31 million. 

Municipal universities received nearly $16 million. 



Over the years covered by the CFAE's surveys, these increases took 
place: 

Gifts to the private universities went up 95.6%. 
Gifts to private coed colleges went up 82%. 
Gifts to state universities went up 184%. 
Gifts to professional schools went up 134%. 

Where did the money come from? Gifts and grants reported to the 
council came from these sources: 

General welfare foundations gave $653 million. 
Non-alumni donors gave $539.7 million. 
Alumni and alumnae gave $496 million. 
Business corporations gave $345.8 million. 
Religious denominations gave $216 million. 
Non-alumni, non-church groups gave $139 million. 
Other sources gave $66.6 million. 

All seven sources increased their contributions over the period. 




BUT THE RECORDS of past ycars are only preludes to the voluntary 
giving of the future, experts feel. 

Dr. John A. Pollard, who conducts the surveys of the Council for 
Financial Aid to Education, estimates conservatively that higher educa- 
tion will require $9 billion per year by 1969-70, for educational and 
general expenditures, endowment, and plant expansion. This would be 
1.3 per cent of an expected $700 billion Gross National Product. 

Two billion dollars, Dr. Pollard believes, must come in the form of 
private gifts and grants. Highlights of his projections: 

Business corporations will increase their contributions to higher educa- 
tion at a rate of 16.25 per cent a year. Their 1969-70 total: $508 million. 

Foundations will increase their contributions at a rate of 14.5 per 
cent a year. Their 1969-70 total: $520.7 million. 

Alumni will increase their contributions at a rate of 14.5 per cent a 
year. Their 1969-70 total: $591 million. 

Non-alumni individuals will increase their contributions at a rate of 

12.6 per cent a year. Their 1969-70 total: $524.6 million. 

Religious denominations will increase their contributions at a rate of 

12.7 per cent. Their 1969-70 total: $215.6 million. 

Non-alumni, non-church groups and other sources will increase their 
contributions at rates of 4 per cent and 1 per cent, respectively. Their 
1969-70 total: $62 million. 

"I think we must seriously question whether these estimates are 
realistic," said a business man, in response to Dr. Pollard's estimate of 
1969-70 gifts by corporations. "Corporate funds are not a bottomless 
pit; the support the corporations give to education is, after all, one of 
the costs of doing business. ... It may become more difficult to provide 
for such support, along with other foreseeable increased costs, in setting 
product prices. We cannot assume that all this money is going to be 
available simply because we want it to be. The more fruit you shake 
from the tree, the more difficult it becomes to find still more." 



Coming: a need 

for $9 bUlion 

a year. Impossible? 



CONTINUED 



But others are more optimistic. Says the CFAE: 

"Fifteen years ago nobody could safely have predicted the level of 
voluntary support of higher education in 1962. Its climb has been spec- 
tacular. ... 

"So, on the record, it probably is safe to say that the potential of 
voluntary support of U.S. higher education has only been scratched. 
The people have developed a quenchless thirst for higher learning and, 
equally, the means and the will to support its institutions adequately." 

A LUMNi AND ALUMNAE will have a critical role to play in determining 
X^ whether the projections turn out to have been sound or unrealistic. 

Of basic importance, of course, are their own gifts to their alma 
maters. The American Alumni Council, in its most recent year's com- 
pilation, reported that alumni support, as measured from the reports 
of 927 colleges and universities, had totaled $196.7 million — a new 
record. 

Lest this figure cause alumni and alumnae to engage in unrestrained 
self-congratulations, however, let them consider these words from one 
of the country's veteran (and most outspoken) alumni secretaries: 

"Of shocking concern is the lack of interest of most of the alumni. . . . 
The country over, only about one-fifth on the average pay dues to their 
alumni associations; only one-fourth on the average contribute to their 
alumni funds. There are, of course, heartwarming instances where 
participation reaches 70 and 80 per cent, but they are rare. . . ." 

Commenting on these remarks, a fund-raising consultant wrote: 

"The fact that about three-fourths of college and university alumni 
do not contribute anything at all to their alma maters seems to be a 
strong indication that they lack sufficient feeling of responsibility to 
support these institutions. There was a day when it could be argued 
that this support was not forthcoming because the common man 
simply did not have funds to contribute to universities. While this argu- 
ment is undoubtedly used today, it carries a rather hollow ring in a 
nation owning nearly two cars for every family and so many pleasure 
boats that there is hardly space left for them on available water." 

Alumni support has an importance even beyond the dollars that 
it yields to higher education. More than 220 business corporations will 
match their employees' contributions. And alumni support — particu- 
larly the percentage of alumni who make gifts — is frequently used by 
other prospective donors as a guide to how much they should give. 

Most important, alumni and alumnae wear many hats. They are indi- 
vidual citizens, corporate leaders, voters, taxpayers, legislators, union 
members, church leaders. In every role, they have an eff"ect on college 
and university destinies. Hence it is alumni and alumnae, more than any 
other group, who will determine whether the financial health of U.S. 
higher education will be good or bad in years to come. 

What will the verdict be? No reader can escape the responsibility of 
rendering it. 



The report on this and the preceding 15 
pages is the product of a cooperative en- 
deavor in which scores of schools, colleges, 
and universities are taking part. It was 
prepared under the direction of the group 
listed below, who form editorial projects 
FOR EDUCATION, a non-profit organization 
associated with the American Alumni 
Council. (The editors, of course, speak for 
themselves and not for their institutions.) 
Copyright © 1964 by Editorial Projects for 
Education, Inc. All rights reserved; no 
part may be reproduced without express 
permission of the editors. Printed in U.S.A. 

DENTON BEAL 

Carnegie Institute of Technology 

DAVID A. BURR 

The University of Oklahoma 

DAN ENDSLEY 

Stanford University 

BEATRICE M. FIELD 

Tulane University 

MARALYN O. GILLESPIE 

Swarthmore College 

L. FRANKLIN HEALD 

The University of New Hampshire 

CHARLES M. HELMKEN 

American Alumni Council 

JOHN I. MATTILL 

Massachusetts Institute of Technology 

KEN METZLER 

The University of Oregon 

JOHN W. PATON 

Wesleyan University 

ROBERT L. PAYTON 

Washington University 

ROBERT M. RHODES 

The University of Pennsylvania 

VERNE A. STADTMAN 

The University of California 

FREDERIC A. STOTT 

Phillips Academy, Andover 

FRANK J. TATE 

The Ohio State University 

CHARLES E. WIDMAYER 

Dartmouth College 

DOROTHY F. WILLIAMS 

Simmons College 

RONALD A. WOLK 

The Johns Hopkins University 

ELIZABETH BOND WOOD 

Sweet Briar College 

CHESLEY WORTHINGTON 

Brown University 

CORBIN GWALTNEY 

Executive Editor 

Acknowledgments: The editors acknowledge with 
thanks the help of Sally Adams, Washington State 
University: Harriet Coble, The University of Ne- 
braska; James Gunn, Tiie University of Kansas: 
Jack McGuire, Tlie University of Texas: ioe Sher- 
man, Clemson College: Howard Snethen, Duke 
t//i/verj/>y; Jack Taylor, The University of Missouri. 
Photographs by Peter Dechert Associates: Walter 
Holt, Leif Skoogfors, Peter Dechert. 



1 



Adviser, Let Him Do It Himself! 



by Nancy 
James Caldwell High Sc 

Perhaps Ambrose Bierce hit closest to the 
matter of advising when he characterized advice 
as "the smaller current coin." This devilish defi- 
nition may well become the basis for an account 
of the investment that any person makes when 
he, of full and sound mind, says, "Yes, I'll advise 
that activity." 

The risk encountered by anyone who willinjjly 
takes upon himself such a venture is largely that 
an even rate of exchange exists between student 
and teacher. When a student participates in an ac- 
tivity, a silent promissory note, a kind of I-O-U. 
is issued between him and his adviser. 

The student agrees to bring interest, time, 
dedication, patience, awareness, opinions, self-re- 
liance, and trust to the mutual relationship. What 
is often underplayed, though, is that the adviser 
brings exactly the same things, if he is to be ef- 
fective and far-reaching in his role. 

How many times has an adviser over-pro- 
moted and over-controlled a project only to find 
that the end product was a kind of counterfeit 
success, a peculiar species of success that looks 
good on the outside but is non-negotiable on the 
inside. For student as well as adviser often real- 
izes whether he is trusted and respected, whether 
he is considered able in the deepest sense of the 
word. 

On the other side of the coin is the balanced 
relationship between adviser and student, working 
to support each other's interests toward the wider 
benefit of all concerned. When such a relation- 
ship exists in its highest form, both teacher and 
student share equally in the gains, and nothing 
that takes place in the confines of the classroom 
can duplicate the mutual profits realized by each 
party, yea, investor. 

This bond, as it were, that grows and deepens 
as the association matures, can best be illustrated 
if we turn for a moment to a particular activity, 
the high school newspaper, a medium of exchange 
designed to report, interpret, and comment upon 
the school scene. 

The written word, its effective uses, its factual 
boundaries, its connotative limits, its creative pos- 
sibilities: this is the major concern of most stu- 
dents participating in newspaper work. For these 
students no token effort is possible, since copy- 
writing, editing, and revising fall directly into 
their province. Nor is this work left to a "choice 



Fricdlandcr 

hool, Caldwell, New Jersey 




few," those most readily able to produce a smooth 
flow of words. Often the best feature or sports 
writers will be those who agonize over their work, 
stumbling, halting, finally pouring out what be- 
comes interesting and entertaining material, rich 
in creativity. Usually, they will stop to play or 
horse around, perhaps as a method of resupplying 
a dwindling fund of snappy phrases or regenerat- 
ing enthusiasm for the task at hand. The unper- 
ceptive teacher could foolishly search elsewhere 
for more efficient, "dedicated" students. He makes 
a grave eiTor in so doing, for the creative mind 
seldom flourishes in a highly organized, regi- 
mented atmosphere. 

Rather, the aura that hangs over the news- 
paper room or oflfice most often resembles the ex- 
citement accompanying a holocaust, and when 
deadline closes, the appearance of that center of 
calamity and confusion is like a scene produced by 
a large scale bombing. Rut from the midst of the 
scattered Rogets, the stubby grease pencils, the 
scraps of partially developed brain children, 
emerges a feeling and subsequently a reality that 
something very important has occurred. The 
students, aided when needed by the adviser, pro- 
duce a joint account otherwise known as a pub- 
lication. 

Continued on Page 25 



13 



An Analysis Of The Reading Process 



by Lawrence H. Conrad 

Professor Emeritus of English, Montclair State College 




When the will says to the mind, "Read !" it is 
throwing in the master switch that controls many 
operations. Governed by this general intention, 
the eye commences its quick little movements, 
focusing and shifting along the lines of a page, 
lingering at each station for so long as it takes 
the mind to summon up the sense belonging to 
words which fall within the span of focus, and 
then moving on. The brain receives intelligence 
of the symbols on the page, and establishes its 
recognition of them through memory, deduction, 
and apprehension, signaling the eye to move for- 
ward as soon as intelligence is received, and let- 
ting the recognition occur in its own appropriate 
department while the eye is bringing in its im- 
pression of the next word-group. Similarly, the 
separate recognitions are moved on to another 



department to be assembled, so as to "make room" 
for the next operation of recognition. And the 
assembly process, which produces understanding, 
lags a little behind, coming into being like a slow 
dawn, often when the direct attention of the 
reader has moved forward into a new sentence, 
or even much later than that. 

The reader himself, when he commences to 
read, is like a man entering a long, narrow passage 
that is dark, but that is provided with almost 
innumerable buttons controlling lights of vary- 
ing candle-power. Each recognition of a word is 
like the pressing of one of these buttons, provid- 
ing some illumination of the immediate scene and 
making it easier to locate other buttons farther 
along. Similarly, at the close of a each sentence, 
some glow remains that carries the reader along 



14 



into the next sentence. 

It is possible to go dimly through these corri- 
dors, and no doubt most of us do. It is possible 
to read text in which we are able only to turn on 
the lights of low candle-power, groping and 
stumbling our way along. And it is possible to 
become so expert that with little effort we switch 
on the great ceiling-lights almost by instinct, 
passing through endless corridors so brightly 
lighted that they impress themselves and all their 
wall-decoration deeply into the mind and the 
memory. It is this kind of reading, of course, that 
is most desirable and most valuable. 

Image, Recognition, Meaning 

Of the three departments in which the opera- 
tions of reading are handled, we know most about 
the first: the physical operation that brings to 
the mind the sense impressions of what is on the 
page. Most discussions of reading treat this step 
very fully, and there are so many fine studies of 
it that it needs no special emphasis here. It is 
enough to say, perhaps, that its importance in the 
whole process can easily be overestimated, and 
that steps taken to adjust the eye movements of 
the reader ought not to be arbitrary steps, but 
should be based upon an understanding of what 
occurs in reading after the eye gels through with 
its part. For reading is not done with eyes: it is 
done with the mind. 

The first step within the mind is recognition. 
The reader either recognizes a word, or he does 
not. If he does, his recognition consists in remem- 
bering previous experiences with it. Those ex- 
periences may have been deep and lasting, or they 
may have been merely superficial. If the former, 
the word is brilliantly illuminated, so to speak, 
and casts its light also upon other words in its 
vicinity, particularly upon those words that are 
only connective in the functions they serve. One 
or two real flashes, usually, are enough to illumi- 
nate a whole sentence. But no word, it must be 
said, ever has exactly the same sense and no 
other, in any two occurrences in reading-text. 
And so the recognition of a word is only an in- 
termediate step in reading. The reader who ac- 
cepts words at their memory-value is not reading, 
in any full measure. He is like a man walking in 
a dream, vaguely aware of landmarks he has seen 
before in some other world; but if he stopped to 
scrutinize one carefully, its more familiar traits 
would vanish. He is not reading afresh, but is 
only reviewing his memories. 

Where there is no recollection of having seen 



the word before, it is still possible to read. For 
the word may be so used here, that its sense is 
ai)parent. It comes to the mind, then, as new 
knowledge, deduced by obsei*vation ; it is an un- 
known quantity in an equation that definitely 
lixes its value. But even if the word is not .so used 
that it must mean one thing and no other, it is 
still possible to read. The word may receive some 
illumination from the genei'al tone of the i)assage 
(from the ceiling-lights, so to speak), and some 
more from a neighboring word that is itself 
l)rightly lighted. Thus the reader may apprehend, 
without knowing for certain, just how the word 
is to be taken. We accept many such apprehen- 
sions in the course of our reading, taking words 
at a certain value tentatively and waiting for a 
later confirmation in the text. We pr.ss them on. 
as it were, to the assembly-line, marked with 
interrogation points, and leave it to the assemljly 
opsration to put them into place if they will fit. 

The assembly itself, which furnishes the deep- 
est undertones of lumbling in the mind, is almost 
a leisurely occupation by comparison with these 
lightning-swift recognitions, decisions, and judg- 
ments. For the asseml)ly is a reflective process 
(and here our figurative use of the idea of light 
comes almost to have a literal application) ; the 
glow from each separate word is caught as though 
by reflectors, and the whole light, from all of 
them, is assembled into a dawn of understanding: 
dawn after dawn illuminates the mind. And with 
the increased light, more and more can be seen 
than in the first dim step of recognition. Some- 
where, lagging behind the eye and the primary 
functions of the mind, comes the high noon of 
understanding, when all stands forth bold and 
clear. And even long afterward, in the very sun- 
set of the experience, when the glow is about to 
fade from the mind, an occasional rocket of un- 
derstanding will burst to throw new light over 
some part of the experience. 

But the end is not yet. For each time any part 
of this understanding is re-aroused by subsequent 
reading, and each time any part of it is employetl 
in thinking, speaking, or writing, some measure 
of the heat and the glow will return. It is mis- 
leading to suppose that reading only "maketh a 
full man," adding to the store of his knowledge. 
It makes an able man, too, for it trains his mind 
in the ways of thought, and increases his knowl- 
edge not only by what it adds, but also by what it 
enables him to do with what he already has. The 
whole aim of general education, in fact, does not 



15 



go beyond what a proper training in reading 
could insure. 

Our analysis of the reading process should 
give us, then, much information on which to base 
training in reading, and this training in turn 
should operate as a corrective of method in the 
whole realm of educational procedure. That con- 
siderable part of education which is got by read- 
ing can all be improved, particularly in quality, 
by improvement in reading itself. With an out- 
line before us of what takes place in the mind of 
the reader, we should be able to hazard a few 
statements concerning the important business of 
learning to read. 

The Reading Lesson 

Training in reading should be a training of 
the eye to serve the requirements of the mind, 
whatever they may be. It should in no case 
adapt the mind to the behavior of the eye, whether 
that behavior be natural, or acquired as a result 
of training. For example, in the matter of speed 
in reading, the test should not be whether the eye 
can in fact be trained to focus more rapidly, but 
rather whether the mind can adequately take care 
of sense impressions brought in at a more rapid 
rate. The norm must not be based upon what the 
eye can do, but only upon the amount of time the 
mind requires to do all the things it needs to da. 
So, too, in the grouping of words. This has been 
thought of as a problem in measuring the span of 
focus. Actually, it must be thought of in terms 
of meaning. And in terms of meaning, some lines 
of type will require more frequent focusing. 
Similarly, some classes of reading matter will call 
for much sharper attention than the standard 
reading-rates permit. 

Lingering must be permitted, too, if the eye 
is to be servant to the mind. For unless the mind 
can give each word and word-group the treatment 
it requires, the best aim of reading is defeated, 
and the thought-process is corrupted, so that it 
becomes superficial and hasty. The effect which 
such corruption has already wrought in the realm 
of education is incalculable. 

And there is yet another practice which our 
revised view of reading must permit, whatever 
this practice does to the regulation of eye-move- 
ment. The eye must be free to go back, on occa- 
sion, to focus anew upon passages which have 
acquired new sense as a result of the completion 
of the reflective process — in the mind. Correc- 
tions are always occurring in the mind after the 
eye has moved on. New material or new evidence 
is uncovered; or a misapprehension, accepted at 



the moment, fails to stand up in the assembling 
of the whole meaning. Every reader knows this 
"feeling" of something coming clear of its own 
accord after it had been accepted with some puz- 
zled reserve. To make reading truly valuable, that 
sentence should be re-read, then, at the moment 
its true sense dawns in the mind. No regulation 
that we put upon the eye should refuse it per- 
mission to perform the little errand that will 
carry the mind back over a previous sentence 
which has belatedly blossomed into meaning. For 
such an apprehension is only potential until it is 
given a heavier underscoring than the original 
misapprehension had. 

Training in reading should be a training of 
the mind in those operations that are involved in 
recognizing the senses of words. A study of the 
dictionary will not serve the purpose. Words do 
not have meaning in and of themselves; they ac- 
quire meaning in use. And the meaning varies 
with use. A reader is not equipped to interpret 
a given word in the text until he is aware how 
many meanings and what meanings that word 
may, in different uses, be made to convey. If this 
seems a difficult requirement, it is only so because 
our reading-program has previously given little 
or no attention to the multiple senses of words. 
Such an acquaintance with words, if begun early, 
should seem most natural to any student. He 
gets, and has, his education through the medium 
of words ; he conducts his thinking largely in ver- 
bal forms. It should not be difficult to conceive 
that his knowledge of what those words may mean 
is the most important item in his intellectual life. 
It deserves, then, the emphatic position in the 
reading program. 

In terms of what happens to a word when it 
is brought to the mind for recognition, the best 
possible way to acquire knowledge of words is by 
comparing meanings. There are two ways in 
which this may be done, and different types of 
exercises may be evolved for each of these ways. 
(1) A given word may be presented in a number 
of different uses (in sentences, perhaps), and its 
various meanings compared and studied until stu- 
dent or class has become familiar with all the 
different things that word can say; and (2) a 
word may be presented in one use, and the intei- 
pretations of it that are made by different readers 
may be compared and studied. Whatever educa- 
tional practices and devices are required to make 
this knowledge permanent should form the bulk 
of the reading-program in any school. 

Continued on Page 24 



16 



The School Budget and You 



by George 

Superintendent of the Public 

To most people, February is l)U(ly:et time, but 
to those who are responsible for making the budg- 
et, it sometimes seems that budget making is all 
the time. School superintendents and board secre- 
taries continually watch the costs and try to think 
of both present and future needs. Formal budget 
work moves through outlines, tentative pr()i)osals, 
and discussion meetings during September, Octo- 
ber, and November, and results in a budget in De- 
cember. 

January brings public hearings and Febiuary 
has its elections or approvals, (if the public does 
not vote on the budget). This process must fol- 
low all the procedures and deadlines as established 
by law. This is a complicated and laborious proc- 
ess: to teachers it means equipment, facilities, and 
raises; to taxpayers it probably means higher 
taxes ; to board members, board secretaries, and 
superintendents it means headaches and to the 
children, it should mean a better education. 

The Budget Issue of the Atlantic Highlands 
Board tried to answer some of the most asked 
questions as follows: 

WHAT IS A It is the educational pro- 

SCHOOL BUDGET? gram in terms of dollars 

and cents. A budget accur- 
ately sets forth a plan 
which satisfies the needs of the school commu- 
nity, and further explains the manner in which 
the money is to be raised. 

WHO MAKES UP The superintendent organizes 
THE BUDGET? the presentation after consult- 
ing with the principals, teach- 
ers, board members, and the 
auditor. It is based on past experience, present 
conditions, and future needs. The classifications 
and divisions follow the approved form for budg- 
ets of the State Department of Education in New 
Jersey. 

HOW DO YOU You judge it by the QUAL- 

Jl'DGE A BUDGET? ITY of the educational pro- 
gram, and the COST of 

maintaining this quality. 

Consider these facts: 

School budgets are the only budgets subject 
to a vote by all the voters. Federal, state, county 
and municipal budgets do not face this hurdle. 



Wuesthoff 

Schools of Atlontic Highlands 

School budgets arc well publicized. Besides 
the legal notices, puljjic printings, and public hear- 
ing most boards do everything possible to make 
the public aware of the i)r()posed budget. 

A voter-defeated school budget is subject to 
another public vote. For this vote, it can be low- 
ered but not raised. If it is l)eaten, it goes to the 
municipal govei-ning body for final decision. 

Voter apathy in school election is the usual 
thing. Many New Jersey districts have less than 
a ten per cent vote in school election. 

Older citizens now feel less of a tax pinch on 
the pension-income suppoiled homestead, since 
the new law gives them added tax relief in New 
Jersey. 

Poor schools usually develop over a period of 
time in which not enough funds were budgeted to 
provide essential schools and educational services. 

With all this in mind I would like to suggest 
some approaches or patterns that may help all of 
us provide greater educational advantages for the 
children. 

1. E\ery(>ne .should supp(Mf (he N.J.F].A. pro- 
grams for a l)roadcr tax l)ase. Many l)udgi't 
defeats are tied to the protests of home owners 
voted against school budgets because this is 
the only way open to them to fight increased 
tiixation. We can expect more budget defeats 
unless there are tax reforms. "No New Taxes" 
in efl'ect means headaches for education. 

2. Educators should work for belter budgets. Su- 
perintendents stick their necks out to advocate 
impi'ovements. Teachers should help originate 
these proposals and lend their professional sup- 
port in securing these. It is the obligation of 
the professional to suggest ways that the 
school can better ser\'e the needs of the chil- 
dren and work through proper channels to help 
make them a reality. 

3. Greater respect and c(M>peration should l)e given 
to board members. Despite some thoughts to 
the contrary, educators and board membei's 
are members of the same team; they are all 
working for the good of the children and the 
community. The board has a right to expect 
complete and constructive proposals from its 
professional staflf through the superintendent. 
I believe that educators have sometimes failed 

Continued on Page 24 



17 



MONTCLAIR 



AND THE 



DRAMA 




Scene from Players, 1963 Production of Oedipus Rex 




Curtain Call: Players' 1964 Production of Midsummer Night's Dream 



Dorothy Gioseffi, 

formerly of Montclair Players 

on Stage 

with Helen Hayes, in 

GOOD MOKNING, MISS DOVE 




18 




Inlspherei! p»m >, ^sS) United St3tes Steel 

^\96\ No roik World I Fo.i I964.IV65 Caiparallon 



MSC ALUMN 



MONTCLAIR 



MEALS 



RESERVATIONS 



COSTS 



-Now "^ Oik Skxlinc liom MoiiUlair CampiiN 

COME TO THE FArR and 

STAY AT MONTCLAIR 

June 25, 1964 To August 5, 1964 Only 

AND THEIR IMMEDIATE FAMILIES ARE INVITED 
TO SPEND A FEW DAYS ON THE CAMPUS AT VERY 
REASONABLE COST WHILE THEY ATTEND THE 
NEW YORK WORLD'S FAIR. 

IS THIRTY MINUTES FROM TIMES SQUARE WHERE 
EXPRESS TRAINS WILL RUN DIRECTLY TO THE 
FAIR FREQUENTLY. 

MAY BE PURCHASED IN THE COLLEGE CAFETERIA 
AT GOING RATES (REASONABLE). 

WILL BE HONORED IN ORDER OF RECEIPT. 



Linens will be furnished, but 
there will be no maid serv- 
ice. 

Adults. $2.50 per bed 
per night 

$12.00 per bed 
per week 

Children under ten: 

$1.00 per night 



Reservation form 

To Alumni Office 
MONTCLAIR STATE COLLEGE 

Upper Montclair. New Jersey 

Name Year of Crad. 

Plense tyi>e or print 



Home address 



Street — Please prinl 



City Stale /ip iXdc 

Please reserve beds for adults 

beds for children under 10 

Dates to inclusive 

Enclosed is $ which is 10<?o of the cost for room. 

Make checks payable to Faculty Student Cooperative, MSC 



Should We Penalize 



by Howard Stern, Attorney at Law 

Shavick, Thevos, Stern, Schotz & Steiger 
Counselors at- Law, Poterson, New Jersey 



In the overall approach to the problems of stu- 
dent delinquency and crime, the burden of solu- 
tion has substantially shifted from the home to 
public agencies, including the school. Psychologi- 
cal guidance and the imposition of penalties are 
directed to the juvenile and only rarely involve 
the parent. Have we reached a point where it is 
time to take a get-tough attitude toward the par- 
ent? If we have, what are the legal tools which 
are available? 

We do not suggest an abandonment of any of 
the presently useful positive methods of dealing 
through and with the student in an attempt to 
get at the root of the problem, and thereby alter 
poor attitudes which have a potential of causing 
difficulty. We do suggest the possibility that the 
classroom teacher and school administrator have, 
in frustrating circumstances, abandoned the pos- 
sibility of reforming the attitude of the parent 
and have completely focused on the child. In 
focusing total attention on the child, the teacher 
is frequently faced with a necessity to combat an 
actively negative and damaging attitude on the 
part of the parent. Where the parent persists in 
encouraging, or permitting, the child's aggres- 
sions, is the school helpless? 

In an enlightened atmosphere there is quite 
properly a heavy reliance upon instruction, reform, 
and rehabilitation to control delinquent or crimi- 
nal behavior. These programs, however, have not 
been so effective as to permit society to abandon 
its basic system of penalties as a prime deterrent. 
In the area of parental responsibility for juvenile 
misbehavior, there is by and large no utilization 
of this system of penalties. The increase in aso- 
cial behavior in some segments of the student 
population indicates a need for the employment 
of something more than the approach of reason 
as a preventive in dealing with parents whose 
irresponsible attitudes can be traced directly to 
the difficulties of their children. 

We approach the problem in its two aspects: 
(1) the liability of the parent for the torts or 
civil wrongs committed by the child; (2) the lia- 
bility of the parent for the crimes of the child. 
There is necessarily a certain amount of inter- 
mingling of these two concepts. 

In the early growth of the law in this State 



and in its origins in the English common law, a 
parent was not liable for the torts committed by 
his child. This doctrine of non-liability was first 
stated here in 1806 by Chief Justice Kirkpatrick^ 
("One person can never be made liable for the 
trespass of another."). In 1903 our Legislature 
enacted a substantial revision of that portion of 
our statutes dealing with education and, among 
other things, restated the policy of this State pro- 
hibiting the administration of corporal punish- 
ment by teachers.- In that same revision an in- 
teresting but little used statute' was enacted as 
follows : 

"Any pupil who shall, cut, deface, or otherwise 
injure any schoolhouse, furniture, fences, outbuild- 
ings, or other property of the school district shall be 
liable to suspension and punishment, and his parents 
or guardian shall be liable for damages to the amount 
of the injury to be collected by the board of education 
in any court having jurisdiction, together with the 
costs of the action." 

So far as this writer is aware, the statute 
went unused until 1957 when one Daryl Lee Han- 
sen burned down the high school in Palmyra, New 
Jersey, with resultant damage of $344,000. The 
school board sued the parents.^ The opinion of 
Judge McGann in that case suggests the wider 
use of the statute as follows : 

"It is also argued that the statute is unconstitu- 
tional, because it is unfair in imposing such an ex- 
ti-eme liability on the parents who aie free of fault. 

"This reasoning touches on equity and moral 
philosophy. I think it can best be answered by raising 
this question: Would it be fair to impose the loss on 
all the other parents of students attending the same 
school, or upon local taxpayers? Suppose, for ex- 
ample, the defendant pupil were to have gone into 
the school and cai-ved the name 'David' on the teach- 
er's desk, and subsequently it cost $50 to repair the 
damage, and there are 499 other students in the school. 
Would it be morally just to assess the parents of 
each ten cents rather than to assess the full amount 
against the parents of the culprit? If it would be 
unfair to assess the parents of the wi-ongdoer, how 
could it be fair to assess the parents of the other 499 
innocent students? And yet, if we w^ere to follow 
the reasoning of defense counsel, this in substance is 
what would happen. The parents of the other 499 
students (and taxpayers) would each be assessed in- 
directly for the damages of the tortfeasor. How can 
it be logically said that it is fair to assess damages 
against parents of innocent students and taxpayers, 



20 



The Parents? 



unless it be reasoned that in the sliarin^;- of tlie loss 
by the many there will be less individual hardshi]) 
and financial distress. This would exemplify charity 
but not justice." 

Is this statute being widely enough employed? 
Should the provisions of this statute be ex- 
panded so as to create liability in the parents for 
personal injuries suffered by student or teacher at 
the hand of the child? 

Statutes aside, it has always been the common 
law of this State that while a parent is not liable 
for the torts of the child, the parent is liable for 
his own negligence which contributes to the act 
of the child. This concept has been resorted to 
with more frequency, but usually only where there 
are extreme circumstances. Thus in 1960 our Su- 
preme Court, in dealing with a suit' brought 
against the parents of a fifteen-year-old girl who 
had shot the plaintiff, said: 

". . . there was sufficient evidence for the jury to say 
whether the adult defendants were negligent in their 
supervision of Sandra, and in permitting the gun to 
be kept in an unlocked desk in her bedrooin, and 
whether Sandra's conduct was what a i)rudent person 
would reasonably expect that a girl of her age might 
do as a result of such negligence." 
and 

"There was also the danger that the accessibility of 
the gun would render highly dangerous a rash, emo- 
tionally immature act on Sandra's part." 
but 

"We need not consider what duty of care to protect 

others is imposed on parents by the availability to 

childien in the household of instnamentalities of 

potential harm, .such as poisons, knives, and the like.", 

and what about the parents' liability where a child 

carries a dangerous instrumentality into the 

schoolroom? 

In the area of criminal liability, we have a 
parallel situation in which available remedies are 
usually not utilized except where the situation is 
so patently shocking as to require action. 

In this State there is a statute'' a portion of 
which states that: 

"Any parent, guardian or person having the 
care, custody or control of any child, who shall abuse, 
abandon, be cruel to or neglectful of such child, oi- 
any person who shall abuse, be cruel to or neglectful 
of any child shall be deemed to be guilty of a mis- 
demeanor and, upon conviction thereof, shall be fined 
not e.xceeding five hundred dollars ($500.00) or by 
imprisonment with or without hard labor, as the 
court may direct, for a term not exceeding three 
years, or both. If a fine be imposed, the court may 
direct the same to be paid in whole or in part to the 



wife, or to the guardian, cu.stodian or trustee of such 

minoi- child or children; . . ." 

We have emphasized the word neglectful, 
which has been defined by statute as including a 
"failure to do or permit to be done any act neces- 
sary for the child's physical or morjil well-being."' 
In the usual situation there is no lesort to this 
statute unless the parent is allowing the child to 
starve, is subjecting the child to physical abuse, 
has encouraged the child to commit a heinous 
crime, or is maintaining the child in a home of 
more or less ill repute. Why not apply this statute 
in less drastic circumstances? Where the child is 
a disruptive influence in the schoolroom; is total- 
ly uncooperative, and the parent is equally un- 
cooperative in taking aflirmative steps to curb the 
child, is the parent "neglectful" in terms of the 
statute? Is it necessary that the child actually 
physically attack someone or actually commit ma- 
jor property damage before action is taken against 
the parent? If the school authorities are satis- 
fied that every approach to reason has failed, 
should they throw up their hands in fi-ustratif)n 
or should the parent be penalized? Accompanying 
the "neglect" statute is another section which 
prescribes the procedure for filing a comi)laint. 
A lengthy list of authorized agencies is recited, 
but significantly the first agency named is "any 
board of education."^ 

Our Legislature provided these tools, but in 
our zeal to display our enlightenment, resort to 
these statutes is too often taken as a mark of 
failure. 

In an unpublished report made by Dr. Charles 
T. O'Reilly of the Loyola School of Social Work", 
it is revealed that nine out of every ten parents 
interviewed said that they agreed that parents 
should be held responsible to some degree for the 
delinquency or crimes of their children, but else- 
where a different conclusion has been reached.'" 

The range of individual problems is infinite 
and the imposition of penalties on the parent can- 
not be expected to be any more of a magic solu- 
tion than are the methods already in use. It could, 
however, be a significant aid. If a l)oard of edu- 
cation were to establish a policy of dunning indi- 
vidual parents for even relatively minor damage 
to school premises; if occasionally an uncoopera- 
tive or recalcitrant parent were to be criminally 
charged with neglect; if parents were exposed to 
civil suit for the personal injuries inflicted on 

Continued on Page 23 



21 



TEACHING IN AN URBAN SCHOOL SYSETEM 

Continued from Page 3 

size is the lowest in the city, and in junior high 
schools in this category the teacher's pupil-load 
has been markedly decreased. 

It should be added that all these efforts are 
still inadequate to cope with all the problems of 
indigent children. Leaders of some metropolitan 
school systems are now planning "saturation pro- 
grams" which will further augment the personnel 
and services given to hard-core schools. 

In most urban centers, and also in some of the 
suburbs, administrators have acquired strong con- 
victions on two other major topics that affect 
teachers directly or indirectly: 1) The profes- 
sional staff should have a voice in matters per- 
taining to their salaries and working conditions; 
2) All other things being equal, children of differ- 
ent races profit more from an integrated school 
than from a segregated one. 

New York City is the prime example of the 
growing concern for teachers' rights. Three years 
ago the staff elected the United Federation of 
Teachers as their bargaining agent. This unprece- 
dented event was clouded by two one-day strikes, 
in 1960 and 1962, and has culminated in what 
Superintendent Calvin Gross calls "a new era of 
cooperation." Recent agreements between the 
teachers and the Board of Education have effected 
such benefits as duty-free lunch periods, free pe- 
riods for elementary school teachers, and a care- 
fully structured set of grievance procedures. Prod- 
ded by the UFT, the Board of Education has in- 
stituted a new salary schedule that gives a begin- 
ning teacher with an M.A. degree $6,175. This 
figure will be increased to $6,425 on January 1, 
1965, and teachers on maximum will be paid as 
high as $11,025. 

But the presence of a bargaining agent causes 
new problems for the urban teacher. He must 
decide whether to cross a picket line or join it. 
Enrollment in the union or in some other organi- 
zation is often a difficult decision. Questions of 
professionalism and the use of labor tactics are 
debated frequently in teachers' rooms. It all adds 
up to satisfying stimulation or unpleasant recrimi- 
nation, depending on the individual teacher's point 
of view. 

The above observation applies also to the inte- 
gration issue. Again the teacher must decide, 
during a school boycott, whether his professional 
duty transcends his respect for a picket line and 
his desire to maintain rapport with the commu- 
nity. Also, it is reasonable to assume that demon- 



strations for and against integration measures 
cause children to become confused and upset, thus 
making the teacher's job more arduous. Most 
important, under such programs as Open Enroll- 
ment or the Princeton Plan, teachers must make 
adjustments in their thinking and their activities. 
To some, this process is painful; to others, it is 
exhilarating. Once more, it depends on the indi- 
vidual and his background. 

The implications of the whole question of in- 
tegration were cogently stated in an address given 
last year by Father Robert F. Drinan, S.J., Dean 
of the Boston College Law School. "All of us," 
said Father Drinan, "are involved in the Negro 
revolution. But teachers in Northern cities stand 
at the very center of the storm which during the 
recent past has become almost a hurricane. It is 
indeed probably not an exaggeration to predict 
that the future of the Northern Negro will de- 
pend on the attitude of school teachers toward 
his aggravations and his aspirations." 

This article began by facing up to the problems 
of the middle-class appointee in what Professor 
Conant forthrightly calls a "slum school." Super- 
ficial thinkers picture this situation as the lot of 
all urban teachers. Nothing could be further from 
the truth. The fact is that the majority of teach- 
ers in most cities handle children comparable to 
those in the suburbs. Furthermore, grouping of 
children is easiest to do in the large urban centers. 
Numerous classes (and even schools) for the 
bright, the slow, the physically handicapped and 
the maladjusted, give teachers with special tal- 
ents and training an opportunity to exercise their 
skills. At the same time, this siphoning off of the 
extremes tends to lighten the teacher's burden in 
the average classroom. 

Urban teaching has other benefits that are 
never trumpeted in the headlines of newspapers on 
the watch for anything sensational or contro- 
versial. Among these assets are the thousands of 
positions for specialists extending from the cor- 
rective reading teacher and the teacher-training 
consultant to the ETV teachers and the curricu- 
lum coordinator. Similarly, the opportunities for 
advancement are immense. In New York City 
alone there are about 4,000 supervisory positions 
of various kinds, all attained through competition 
with one's peers in examinations. 

Many teachers choose to work in the great 
cities simply because urban and cultural centers 
are often synonymous terms. The museums, the 
theatres, the music halls, the literary gathering 
places and many of the great institutions of learn- 



22 



ing tend to cluster in a metropolis. 

A large number of teachers pi-efer the urban 
environment, because it affords what one of them 
recently referred to as "anonymity and privacy." 
She meant, of course, that the city teacher is 
seldom subjected to telephone calls in the night, 
impi'omptu street-corner explanations to the 
neighborhood butcher just elected to the board 
of education, forced attendance at dull PTA meet- 
ings, and confrontations with these ubiquitous 
mothers who have read "half the psychology 
book." 

The recruitment brochure of New York City 
sums it up in another way ; it says to prospective 
teachers: "One can lose himself in the city if he 
wishes; but more important, he can find himself." 



A GLANCE AT DANISH EDUCATION 

Continued from Page 8 

cation, singing, art, and needlework (for girls) 
or handicrafts (for boys). A foreign language 
(usually English) is added in the sixth year 
among other subjects at this turning point, and 
for the academically-minded a second foreign lan- 
guage (most often German) comes in the seventh 
year. On conclusion of the seventh year, when 
the pupils is normally fourteen years old, further 
schooling is no longer essential. 

Those who have not gone into the vocational 
branch of the educational system and who have 
continued through a tenth grade in the primary 
school, although strictly speaking these last three 
grades get the name "real" school for ease of ref- 
erence, will take a very exacting final examination 
for admittance to the "gymnasium" or secondary 
school. Here the course is three years in length, 
thus following the student through to his twen- 
tieth year, and is divided into a Languages and 
Mathematics stream or tendency of emphasis. The 
Languages tendency prolongs the previous con- 
tinuous study of English. German, and often 
French or Russian which were optional from the 
seventh year, plus social studies and Latin or 
Greek; the Mathematics tendency concentrates 
on mathematics and physics, plus social studies 
or science. It is obvious that social studies, so 
much stressed in the United States, lag far be- 
hind other subjects in Danish schools. No doubt 
this is due, at least in part, to the fact that the 
Danes must have a fluent knowledge of foreign 
languages in order to communicate with the ma- 
jor nations of the world for cultural or commer- 
cial reasons. Another ditticult final examination 
comes at the end of the tenth year, and if the stu- 



dent is successful he will be admitted to the uni- 
versity. 

Iti a l)ri('r survey of Danish education, many 
of the little differences which exist between coun- 
try and city schools or l^etween the bigger and 
smaller institutions must necessarily be omitted, 
all to the advantage of seeing moi-e clearly the 
basic characteristics of that nation's school .sys- 
tem. It is at once apparent that very close inte- 
gration links the various stages of the educational 
pattern, so that difficulties of transfer which 
plague American educators, are at a minimum in 
Denmark. What might seem an early and rigid 
pupil-capacity classification procedure is off.set to 
.some extent by allowing the late-bloomer (pro- 
viding he is not a centui-y plant) to change his 
vocational course to the "real" course sometime 
between the seventh and tenth years if he 
passed the examination into the new program. 
Danish pupils actually study more subjects in 
their career than their American counterparts, 
but classes meet only two or three times a week 
per subject. The program is so full of obligatory 
courses that the Danes have little space for elec- 
tives and somewhat less spontaneity and self-con- 
fidence than American students in the classroom. 
It is a point worth pondering. 

Americans are justly proud of the high per- 
centage of youth whom the educational system 
reaches. But does this high percentage includo 
all those for whom such an education is beneficial 
to themselves, to the community, and exclude 
those who, after a certain point, would be happier 
and more useful in other walks of life? 

It is a point worth pondering! 



SHOULD WE PENALIZE THE PARENTS? 

Continued from P.ige 21 

student or teacher by their child; and if it were 
widely known that parents might find themselves 
in "difiiculty" even though their child had been 
involved in something quite less severe than a 
shooting or a knifing or arson, then through fear 
of penalties, if for no better reason, the home 
might become a more effective adjunct of the 
school in dealing with the problem of juvenile 
misbehavior, crime, and delinquency. 

1. McCauley v. Wood, 2 N.J. Law 86 (Supreme Ct. 1806) 

2. N.J.R.S. 18:19-1 (L. 1903 c. 1, §112. p. 44) 
.3. N.J.R.S. 18:14-51 (L. 1908 c. 1, §120, p. 46) 

4. Board of Ed. of Boro of Palmyra v. Hansen, b('> S.J. 
Superior Ct. Rep. .567 (19.'.9) 

5. Stoelting v. Hauck, .56 N.J. Superior Ct. Rep. 386 
(1959) 

6. N.J.S.A. 9:6-3 

7. N.J.S.A. 9:6-5 

8. N.J.S.A. 9:6-1 



23 



9. Community Attitudes Towards Juvenile Delinquency, 
Dr. Charles O'Reilly, Loyola School of Social Work, 
unpublished, 1957 
10. Shall We Punish the Parent ? James A. and James V. 
Kenny, 47 Amer. 
Bar Assoc. J. 804, Aug. 1961 



AN ANALYSIS OF THE READING PROCESS 

Continued from Page 1 6 

But a knowledge of separate words, however 
thorough, is not all that is needed. The exercises 
used must be broad enough to furnish the student 
also with a knowledge of the customs of the lan- 
guage, in terms of which words now take on one 
meaning, now another. What these customs are 
is perceived in the course of inquiry and discus- 
sion of the changes in meaning which different 
uses bring about. The reading-exercise, then, 
must involve such discussion. As a student grows 
in his knowledge of how language operates to 
produce meaning and to affect it, he becomes able 
swiftly to deduce from the way in which it is used, 
which of the possible meanings of a given word 
is called for in a particular sentence. 

The one other quality of mind that requires 
to be developed for the improvement of the recog- 
nition stage of meaning, is the student's percep- 
tion: his ability to bring his general knowledge 
to bear upon words he does not know, as a means 
of apprehending what they stand for. Another 
name for this perception, and a better one, is 
common sense. Perhaps this cannot be developed 
by any training procedure. But the practices that 
hinder its operation can be removed, and the net 
result would be the same as though the elusive 
quality had been evolved and developed by edu- 
cation. 

Training in reading should be a training of the 
mind in the sort of reflection that leads to under- 
standing. This reflection can be promoted, as a 
class exercise, by continued comment upon a pass- 
sage after its words have been quite fully recog- 
nized. The minimum requirement is that a pass- 
age should be re-read with some deliberation. 
After that, whatever comment is added by the 
teacher and by members of the class will stimu- 
late associations and promote continued thought. 
Any suggestions for further interpretation, so 
long as they are supported by linguistic evidence, 
will be advantageous, because such suggestions 
serve to hold meaning in the learner's mind and 
to surround it with impressions, thoughts, feel- 
ings, etc., to make of it an impressive experience. 

Exercises on this level should require the 
learner to make and to test general statements 



intended to be compatible with the sense of the 
particular passage that has been read. Such ex- 
ercises in inductive thought actually serve to train 
the mind in reflection and in the technique of cer- 
tain knowledge. We become wise as we become 
able to make general knowledge out of a few ex- 
periences in reading, just as we become wise by 
adding up the experiences of real life to discover 
principles of conduct. 

These are the conclusions that would seem 
immediately apparent if we are to base training 
in reading upon what actually takes place in the 
mind of the reader. A new approach to reading 
is suggested, with new classroom techniques and 
exercises. What is no less to be noted is that 
much of the old technique in teaching reading, 
unsatisfactory in its results, must remain so inso- 
far as it is based on studies of the external be- 
havior of children and upon what they like, at any 
given age level, to do. 

So long as the vague mumbling in the mind of 
a reader remains vague to the teacher of reading, 
we shall continue to have expensive courses in 
the mere etiquette of reading, in which children 
are taught not to move their lips, how to move 
their eyes, and at what speed they ought to cover 
the ground in order to keep up with the best 
people. We shall continue to have extended vo- 
cabulary lists of rare and unusual words, each 
with a single fixed meaning assigned to it; and 
we shall continue to put forward a largely arti- 
ficial grammar (which they study anew every 
year and never really learn) that interferes with 
the operation of their good sense and stands al- 
ways between them and the message that is being 
conveyed. 

In any realistic view of reading, what is im- 
portant is what takes place in the mind. Our new 
reading program must be adapted to that view, 
and all of its practices must be consistent with 
that view, if the reader's mind is to be improved 
by it. 



THE SCHOOL BUDGET AND YOU 

Continued from Page 1 7 

to give this to their local boards and as a re- 
result have been partially responsible for edu- 
cational problems. 

I also believe that board members are vitally 
aware of their responsibilities and want to sup- 
port good schools; they are not sitting on tha 
board to be responsible for failure of their 
school system. 
In nine years as an administrator I have yet 



24 



to meet a board member who wasn't working 
for a better school; this is the rule in our state 

. rather than the exception. 

1. Public support should come with pul)lic confi- 
dence. 

Good schools and good teaching'' bring passed 
budgets. The teacher doing a good classi-oom 
job is helping to pass the budget and secure 
support for educational improvements. A good 
year-around public relations program should 
help to pass the budget in February. 

5. Educators should understand their community 
and the opposition within it. 

I do not believe that every member of the so- 
called "Anti-Education" groups are against the 
schools. Discounting the hysteria-of-the-mo- 
ment opposition and the vociferous minorities. 
I believe public schools have board support and 
respect among taxpayers, older citizens, pa- 
rochial school supporters, and others. A school 
is a valuable asset to the community and all 
the people in it. In providing the service we 
do, we should entitle all our people to basic 
courtesy and respect. However, I would like to 
remind all pro-budget people that the man who 
says he supports better education, but con- 
sistently works against all budgets, bond issues, 
and constructive educational proposals is at 
least a hypocrite if not more. Differences of 
opinion may arise, but they need not be so 
bitter that they overwhelm all reason and cause 
lasting scars in a coommunity. 

6. Top to bottom support is essential. 

The college bond issues, the regional school 
budgets, the local school budgets, and all 
school proposals deserve support. There can 
be no weak links in the chain. 
By the way, did you vote "Yes" for the last 
school budget, and what have you done or do 
you intend to do to make sure your town gives 
its children the educational opportunities they 
should have? 



ADVISER, LET HIM DO IT HIMSELF! 

ConfinuL-(l f(oni f'.i^'.t 

While this analysis could appear deceptively 
simple, the phrase, aided when nee<led by the ad- 
viser, says all. It is the l)aiik in wliich any paix-i- 
worth its lead invests its capital output. It is the 
Walter Mitty-ish annuity that pays off in both 
immediate results and in long-term dividends. It 
is founded upon the premise that learning by do- 
ing is indeed both affective and effective, and it 
takes the popular monster of the paper as a puijlic 
relations vehicle and dashes its feeble, brainless 
head upon its groundless base. 

The liability clause attendant upon this hands- 
off method says something about its being time- 
consuming" and "painful upon occasion." Yes, 
only stepping in when asked, even attempting to 
live up to that credo most of the time, surely pre- 
cludes a situation in which the adviser is willing 
to give time freely and to cope with many kinds 
of emotional crises. Such is the price of educa- 
tion when it is approached this way. 

But that same price is extremely cheap when, 
because of that very educative process, individual 
standards of values, based upon self reliance and 
concern for others, grow and spread within the 
students. Soon, their newspaper reflects this 
growth. There will be articles of social and politi- 
cal concern, satirical commentaries, factual data 
as close to being correct as both reporter and in- 
terviewee can make them. A pride in the paper, 
hence, the school, hence, the individual, developes. 

And what does the adviser reap from all this? 
Exactly the same thing, but through different 
channels: pride in his students, who help to com- 
prise the school, and beneath that, pride that he 
may be succeeding as an educator. 

Thus, it is possible that Bierce's smallest cur- 
rent coin, if parlayed well, can be minted into a 
far more substantial sum, one that enriches the 
school scene, one that pays large dividends in 
everyday life. 



DISCIPLINE 

already lost its "influence" on him and the issue 
has become his influence on the school. 

Retaining an incorrigible offender diverts the 
faculty from its proper function in favor of mei-e 
"baby sitting." It provides for a minority of un- 
stable and marginally behaving pupils both a bad 
example and destructive leadership. It causes 
the vast majority of pupils who are good school 
citizens to lose respect for authority. It gives the 
school — both pupils and faculty — a bad repu- 
tation. In those cases where the olfender is not 



Continued from Poge 5 

only retained but eventually ea.^ed out of school 
with a diploma (which in all too many instfinces 
is indistinguishable from that earned by the vale- 
dictorian), it helps to discredit not only the school 
but the whole system of free public education. 

As teachers we have an obligation to do oui- 
very best to prevent the individual apple from 
spoiling; but when it has spoiled, as a few are 
bound to do in spite of us, we have a far greater 
obligation to the good apples which are by fai" the 
greater part of the barrel. 



25 




A bird's eye view of the present campus 

THE ALUMNI FORUM 

Spring, 1964 
Montclair State College 



TABLE OF CONTENTS 



New Jersey Paradox by 

Teaching in an Urban School System by 

Four Poems by 

Discipline Is Not A Dirty Word by 

A Glance At Danish Education by 

The Harry A. Sprague Library by 

Adviser, Let Him Do It Himself! by 

An Analysis of the Reading Process by 

The School Budget and You by 

Montclair and the Drama by 

Should We Penalize The Parents? by 



President E. D. Partridge 
Eugene T. Maleska, '37 .... 
Helen Vitello Nunzio, '33 
William Monprode, '35 .. 

Ernest B. Shore 

The Editors 

Nancy Friedlander, '52 .... 

Lawrence H. Conrad 

George Wuesthoff, '48 .... 

The Editors 

Howard Stern, '48 



Page 



2 

3 

5 

6 

9 

13 

14 

17 

18 

20 



SPECIAL AERIAL VIEW OF THE PRESENT-DAY CAMPUS 

Editors 

Mr. Marvin Shiofmitz Editor-in-Chief 

Mrs. Helen Rendall Associate 

Mr. Morris McGee Associate 

Mr. Lawrence H. Conrad Editorial Consultant 

Printed by Progress Publishing Company, 6 Progress Square, Caldwell, N. J, 
Published by the Montclair Alumni Association 



^< 




I 



SfiniHf f965 



MONTCLAIR STATE COLLEGE 




Issue No. 4 /4CCMUU ^OnCUPt Spring. 1965 

MONTCLAIR ALUMNI ASSOCIATION 

MONTCLAIR STATE COLLEGE 

UPPER MONTCLAIR, NEW JERSEY 

EDITORIAL 

The alumni Magazine, The Forum, is celebrating its fourth birthday. 
Young indeed, but certainly this magazine is brave in word. The publication 
staff has endeavored to improve the appearance and content of each issue. 

The Executive Board of the Association feels that the graduates of Mont- 
clair have something relevant and significant to say. For too long, teachers 
have read scholarly articles in journals that have little relationship to the 
reality of the classroom. The contributors to this magazine base their comments 
and observations on practical experience. Their ideas have been tested in actual 
and real situations. 

The editor of this publication wants its readers to read significant and 
meaningful articles. The Forum welcomes new, stimulating ideas. Controversy 
is welcomed witli enthusiasm. New solutions to old and very new problems are 
in demand by alert and interested educators. 

Forum would like to publish your poetry and your essays. The editor 
would be proud to launch some vital concepts and ideas. It is the hope of the 
staff to make this magazine important to you. 



MR. MARVIN SHLOFMITZ Editor-in-Chief 

MRS. HELEN RENDALL Associate 

MR. MORRIS McGEE Associate 

MR. LAWRENCE H. CONRAD Editorial Consultant 

THE COVER OF THIS ISSUE.— This is from a photograph taken by Professor Conrad in the 
summer of 1963, in Bangkok, Thailand, and is an early-morning scene on the "Floating 
Market" — the principal canal of that fascinating city. It was thought to fit the international 
theme of this issue. 

TABLE OF CONTENTS 

Page 

How Do Our Schools Compare? Dr. Thomas H. Richardson 1 

The Toes Remember Yet (A Poem) Dr. Eugene Maleska, '37 2 

The Newark Neighborhood Youth Corps Dr. J. Thomas Flagg, '40 3 

In Search of Music Dr. George Rochberg, ',39 7 

Some Say ... (A Poem) Robert Prive, '64 8 

Faculty Meeting (A Poem) Dr. Herman M. Ward, '35 9 

Educere (A Poem) Arthur Bramhall, '31 9 

A Poem for Everyone Laivrence H. Conrad 10 

Stonehenge (A Poem) Linda M. Tua, '64 13 

Some Impressions of Our Chinese Neighbors Edna D. Smith, '16 14 

Teachers — Angry People! Irving Elan, '44 15 

The Helstoski Story: 

From the Classroom to Capitol Hill An Interview-Story 17 

Will S. Monroe, First Professor 

of Education at Montclair Dr. Frank M. Cordasco 22 

An Alumnus Looks at the Peace Corps Ray Olsen, '59 23 

Contrasts are Easy to Remember Dr. Edwin S. Fulcomer 26 

Recent Trends in Italian Education B. Ernest Shore 28 



How Do Our Schools Compare? 



Bv THOMAS H. RICHARDSON 



I WILL MAKE some comments comparing American 
schools with those of other countries. During 
the second World War, I spent a year in Europe 
and later, in the 1950's my wife and I, as civilians, 
lived for four uninterrupted years in Europe. While 
we worked, we visited many European schools and 
studied at several universities. I give this history as 
a preface only to qualify myself by experience to 
make the observations which follow, because I know 
that my comments may annoy some students of 
modern history and comparative education. 

We Americans went through a period when 
many of us thought that all things American were 
first, best, and permanently good. The cleanest, the 
strongest, the richest, and the most democratic coun- 
try had been created and our pride was understand- 
ably great— even though it sometimes approached 
conceit. An international stereotype developed 
which depicted the American as a well-dressed, 
wealtlu' fellow who would talk in a friendly (and 
bragging) way to people of all classes. 

War in Korea and the first Sputnik shook the 
confidence which Americans had in themselves. 
Concern developed about our posture in the modern 
world. We found ourselves in a role which made us 
insecure and unhappy. People in many parts of the 
world showed that they did not admire or even like 
us, although we felt wc had done so much to war- 
rant their admiration and friendship. Our institu- 
tions came under attack from critics at home and 
abroad and our status as leader in science, technolo- 
gy, democracy, and human rights was challenged. 

Citizens recoiled in anger at having their image 
of America tarnished and they looked around for the 
source of the blame. Public education became the 
main whipping boy for America's international prob- 
lems. Specifically, it was claimed that we were not 
teaching science and mathematics in the quantity' 
and quality necessary to successfully compete in the 
space race. A broader charge soon developed, how- 
ever, and the schools were accused of wasting the 
talented among American \outh— we were not edu- 
cating the gifted. This deficiency in .\merican 
schools was cited by some as the explanation as to 
why Europeans and particularly Russians were 
shooting ahead of us in their rate of increase of na- 
tional production. Man\- changes in American edu- 
cation were advocated and some were accomplished; 




DR. THOM.\S H. RICHARDSO.N 

Acting Frt'siclfiit of the Colloiic 

but I would like to comment on those changes 
which were justified on the basis of a comparison of 
European and .\inerican schools. 

First, I think that it must be admitted that Eur- 
ope has been very successful at developing a high 
degree of academic competence in its high school 
level students. It is also true that this success is ac- 
complished by grouping the academically successful 
youngsters into progressively more and more homo- 
geneous schools as they advance in age. When the 
European high school student gets into his Gymna- 
sium, Liceo, Grammar School, or Lycee he arrives 
there after extensive "weeding out" and he repre- 
sents only a small percentage of his age group ( from 
10% to 30% depending upon the countr>-. These 
European high school students are more ad\anccd 
than our own high school youngsters. Of course, 
this select group of students should not be comparetl 
with the average of the .\merica:i students (they 
should be compared with the top 10% to 30% of our 
students) but that is the way it is usually done and 
that is a problem of coniparati\e education which I 
can not explore now. M this time, 1 would like to 



comment on the principle of selecting and grouping 
which has been characteristic of European schools 
because it is that principle that some people would 
have us adopt. 

To me, the most unacceptable thing about Euro- 
pean schools is their emphasis on the inequality 
among children. "The separation of the sheep from 
the goats" was an expression which was frequently 
used by European educators when discussing this 
process. Children at an early age are made to feel 
that they have a certain place in the world which is 
determined and fixed by their inherent ability to do 
academic work. The final proof of this inequality is 
provided to the student in the form of qualifying 
examinations which determine the next educational 
step or institution to which he may advance. 

In my opinion, one of the merits of American 
education has been its almost naive assumption of 
equality among children. Perhaps this equalitarian- 
ism can be traced to our frontier era or Jacksonian 
democracy. Regardless of its origin— its big educ- 
tional value is psychological. I think that it is desir- 
able for children to live in such a way that they feel 
that one is as good as another— that anyone can be 
president or a millionaire. This exaggerated belief 
in equality causes children to act as if they were 
equal and in the process they become more nearly 
equal. Individual differences may exist inherently, 
but as soon as the differences are treated education- 
ally they become magnified. This magnification 
may be more a product of the attention which is 
given to the inherent differences than it is a result of 
the differences themselves. But the only point I 
wish to make here is that American schools have his- 
torically tended to stress the equality of children, 
while European schools have emphasized the differ- 
ences among children. 

As a result of the pressures of the modern com- 
petitive world American education is changing and 
it is becoming more European. It has put a new 
stress on individual differences in children. We are 
in a phase of honor classes, special classes, pro- 
grams for the gifted, and other attempts to solve 
what has allegedly been our educational problem. 

Many schools are taking pride in the number and 
variety of devices which they have developed to 
separate students. Some educators joke about the 
old goal of education for adjustment or cooperation. 
The idea of having schools develop qualities of 
citizenship in students so that they can successfully 
live in a democracy is sometimes ridiculed. 

It is interesting to note that while American 
educators are trying to copy the idea of European 
schools for the elite— many Europeans are trying to 



emulate our comprehensive high school. In Eng- 
land, for example, some people view the comprehen- 
sive high school as a great tool for developing de- 
mocracy. These Europeans are sensitive to the 
dangers of aristocracy— even if that aristocracy is 
educationally determined. 

Of course, comparing school systems of different 
countries is an almost impossible task and things are 
really not as black and white as I have painted 
them. My point in this article is to focus attention 
on a development in American education which is 
often justified by comparing educational systems. I 
am fully conscious of the criticism that American 
schools educate for mediocracy and that they edu- 
cate down to the average. Some emphasis on indi- 
vidual difference is certainly desirable. Montclair 
will continue to work for excellence while preparing 
well-rounded teachers. In my opinion, however, we 
will want to very carefully watch the tendency to 
separate children into homogeneous groups on the 
basis of rather narrow academic qualities. Equalit- 
arianism which has been a basic ideal in American 
culture should not be unconsciously sacrificed in an 
attempt to compete in the modern world. 



The Toes Remember Yet 

The toes remember yet 

Two rollicking hoys in the Regis quad 

Scuffing an empty ashcan 

Soon after three 

And making it twist and shake like a dancer - - 

Burr-oom, hurr-oom, burr-oom - - 

Hollow between the walls; 

And the stern prefect answering the call. 

He did not raise his voice or even scowl; 

With watch in hand, he said: "I'm leaving now. 

You will kick this obscene vessel until five. 

God is your timekeeper. 

They watched him glide away 

Like a dark ghost. 

And they kicked and kicked with sober feet 

Till the Lord rang out His chimes. 

. . . And the toes remember yet. 

Eugene T. Maieska. 37 



The Newark Neighborhood Youth Corps 



By J. THOMAS FLAGG 




DR. J. THOMAS FLAGG, '40 

Director of the Xeighborhood Youth 
Newark, X. J. Corps 



THE City of Newark, New Jersey, like other 
urban centers across our great nation, faces a 
multiplicity of problems which have deep 
social, cultural and economic roots. The problems 
which Newark is working to overcome have been 
further aggravated by changing population patterns 
including a substantial in-migration of people from 
rural areas and from our island possessions. 

The combined effect of these forces on our school 
system has been a profound one. Our building pro- 
gram has been slowed by the need to pinpoint future 
urban renewal programs. Some schools are over 
crowded and our curricular offerings often cannot 
adequately meet the special needs of a large seg- 
ment of our population. 

Man\- of the people coming to our cities have 
serious educational disal)ilities which have a direct 
bearing on their economic status. There is consider- 
able evidence that children who come from low in- 
come families tend to perform in school at a lower 
le\el tlian their peers from higher income families. 
The indication is that the generally lower level of 
achie\emcnt comes as a result of inadequate motiva- 



tion, inadequate facilities and of dysfunctional pre- 
vious experiences. These children enter school with 
certain assets and liabilities. Some of the assets are: 

1. They understand and use with facilit)' the 
language of their culture. 

2. They ha\e their own set of values and system 
of rewards. 

3. The\ are capable of solving problems unique 
to their environment. 

Some of the liabilities which handicap these chil- 
dren are: 

1. They feel inferior and insecure, especially in 
the school situation. 

2. They do not understand and are not able to use 
the language of the school. 

3. Their skills in \isual and auditor)- discrimina- 
tion are not higliK" developed. 

4. They lack what we consider to be a desirable 
le\el of moti\ ation and aspiration. 

These liabilities cause the child to become baffled 
and add to his utter confusion. The child begins to 
exhibit beha\ ior which is fre<}uently construed to be 
an indication of the child's lack of intelligence. The 




»ir= 





stereotype of the middle-class family with which the 
child is presented, results in his feeling that families 
living differently, including his own, are not quite 
respectable. Thus, the sting of frustration and fail- 
ure are often experienced by the child from the very 
inception of his formal school career. 

The cumulative effect of such conditions is often 
manifested in several ways. The dropout problem is 
a typical example. The Midcentury White House 
Conference on Children and Youth summarized the 
plight of the dropout ( many of whom come from the 
ranks of the disadvantaged youth ) whom I have just 
finished describing: 

A large percentage come from backgrounds 
which leave them without the experience in ab- 
stract thought required for a good showing on 
intelligence tests, they are not academically 
minded; their speech, clothing, and habits devi- 
ate from those accepted as standard by the 
school. Early in their school careers they are 
segregated into opportunity groups, they fail, 
they don't fit, and they feel it. 
What can be done and what is being done for 
these young people, especially along the lines of 
human renewal? What is being done to create or to 
restore human dignity and the S'^lf respect of these 
young people? What is being done to remove some 
of the frustrations which obviously face them? 

With the assistance of federal funds, provided un- 
der Title IB of the Economic Opportunity Act of 
1964, Newark has undertaken a Neighborhood Youth 
Corps. This program is designed to benefit out-of- 
school, unemployed young people between the ages 
of 16 and 22. The program provides full-time work 



experience and the opportunity to return to evening 
school. The City of Newark adheres strongly to the 
thesis that unskilled and semi-skilled work experi- 
ence must be provided for young people from eco- 
nomically and culturally deprived environments. 
Hopefully, this will alleviate the school dropout rate 
which we feel is one of the major causative factors in 
the poverty which plagues our society. 

Mayor Addonizio was in Mr. Shriver's office the 
day the Economic Opportunity' Act was signed into 
law, so tliat Newark is the first City in the nation to 
get this kind of program underway. 

1. Helen Witmer and Ruth Kotinsky, Personalitij 
in the Making, The Fact-Finding Report of tlie 
Midcentury White House Conference on Chil- 
dren and Youth. New York: Harper and 
Brothers, 1952. 

Specifically, the Newark Program provides op- 
portunities for useful work experiences for young 
men and women who have dropped out of school 
and who are currently unemployed. Placement of 
these young people in municipal agencies permits 
these agencies to carry out programs and provide 
services which would not otherwise be available. 
The City will be able to carry out a program of con- 
servation and development of local public resources 
and facilities which could not be provided for in the 
current budget. 

We feel that Newark is uniquely qualified to af- 
ford these young people a wide variety of job experi- 
ences in over one hundred separate service areas. 
The City currently employs over seven thousand 
(7,000) individuals and hires and processes approx- 
imately one thousand (1,000) new employees each 



year. In order to provide ser\ice,s for a nii^ht-timc 
population of over four liundred thousand, (400,- 
000) and a da\tinu' population of approximately 
one million, (1,000,000) persons, Newark must pro- 
vide a budget in excess of one hundred twenty mil- 
lion dollars. ($120,000,000). 

The City of Newark, in the Neighborhood Youth 
Corps program, cooperates with the New Jersey 
State Employment Service and other community 
agencies. There is a complete coordination with the 
acti\ities of the city's community action organiza- 
tion, "The United Community Corporation", a pri- 
vate, non-profit corporation formally constituted to 
undertake a multi-pronged, broad based attack 
against poverty in Newark. 

There are approxiniatel\- twelxe thousand five 
hundred (12,500) eligible youths registered at the 
Youth Career Development Center of the New 
Jersey State Emplo\ment Service. These eligible 
\outh constitute a large portion of Newark's unem- 
ployed. Relevant employment and economic statis- 
tics can be obtained from Newark's "Over-all Eco- 
nomic Development Program", pre\iously submitted 
to the Area Redevelopment Committee and the 
Neighborhood Youth Corps Offices of the United 
States Department of Labor. This document con- 
tains the data which resulted in Newark's being 
designated as one of the six "economically de- 



pressed" cities in the nation. 

Some of the steps and criteria inxoKed in the 
selection of enroUees for Newark's Neighborhood 
Youth Corps are: 

1. An enrollce must be a resident of Newark, un- 
employed, and a school dropout. The date on 
which the prospecti\e enrollee dropped out of 
school is a determining factor in the selection 
process. We do not accept any person who has 
dropped out of school for the sole purpose of 
enrolling in our program or any other program. 

2. An enrollee must have attained the age of 16 
but must have not attained the age of 22. 

3. All enrollees are counseled and tested at the 
Youth Career Development Center of the New 
Jersey State Employment Ser\ice. This is one 
of the two public agencies in the nation spe- 
cifically established to handle the employment 
problems of young people. 

4. Enrollees are referred to the office of the City's 
Neighborhood Youth Corps Director by the 
Youth Career Dexelopment Center. They are 
interviewed, counseled, and placed in work 
situations which best fit their individual edu- 
cational levels, interests, aptitudes and experi- 
ences. During the interview, each enrollee is 
informed of proper dress, good work habits, 



:> -# 



Ml] 



>.^. 



t*^.;>«>» 






and strong emphasis is given to the necessity 
for completion of the high school education. 
5. Placement is contingent upon a background 
check, a ph>'sical examination, and the pro- 
curement of working papers if the individual 
has not attained age 18. 
Seventy-five permanent supervisory personnel em- 
ployed in the various city agencies, provide on-the- 
job supervision and counseling, and are responsible 
for the normal work activities of the enrollees. Sev- 
en work supervisors from the Neighborhood Youth 
Corps office provide additional supervision and 
counseling. The latter meet with the enrollees peri- 
odically and attempt to resolve any problems which 
might arise on the job situation. Each work super- 
visor is responsible for fifty enrollees and is re- 
quired to report individual progress on a weekly 
basis. 

Enrollees are encouraged to learn as many skills 
and to undertake as many job assignments as the 
situation and the individual's abiUty permits. The 
positions which the young people occupy, have been 
specially created and thereby fall outside of normal 
Civil Service job titles. This obviates any possibility 
of any regular Civil Service employee being re- 
placed by an enrollee. No fringe benefits, such as 
paid holidays and sick time are available to the en- 
rollees. Emphasis is given to the importance of es- 
tablishing good work habits. All enrollees are ac- 
corded sympathetic but firm discipline. Enrollees 
who habitually violate established regulations are 
dismissed from the program. 

Enrollees are paid at the rate of $1.25 per hour for 
a maximum of 30 hours per week. There is no over- 
time. With few exceptions, the work day begins at 
9 A.M. and ends at 4 P.M. Monday thru Friday. 



Our current contract, which expires June 30, 1965, 
but which we hope will be extended, calls for a 
maximum of 350 enrollees. We have tentative ap- 
proval to place an additional fifty young people. 
The additional enrollees will be placed in the Police 
Cadet Corps program. Here they will be given 
training in all phases of police work. An enrollee 
reaching the age of 21 would become eligible to 
take the regular examination for placement on the 
police force. Should an enrollee in this Police Cadet 
Corps program fail to qualify for the regular police 
force, he would probably be able to secure employ- 
ment as a special policeman or as a security police- 
man. 

A clearer picture of the duties performed by the 
enrollees might be presented if we list a few job 
descriptions. 

Draftsman Trainee— Assists in drafting assessment 
maps and charts for the Department of Assess- 
ments. 
Junior Conservation and Rehabilitation Specialist 
—Assists in distribution of conservation and re- 
habilitation literature; makes field surveys re- 
porting blight in neighborhoods. 
Traffic & Signals, Labor & Repair Helper— Assists 
in maintaining the city's traffic and signal net- 
work. 
Laboratory Trainee— Assists professional labora- 
tory staff at City Hospital; handles animals and 
specimens; performs janitorial services and pro- 
gressively assumes the basic functions of a re- 
search person. 
Several of our enrollees have exhibited such pro- 
gress and aptitude that they have been phased out 
of our program and placed as temporary employees 
in civil service positions. In each instance, the 

(Continued on page 16) 




In Search of Music 



Bv GEORGE ROGIIBERG 



ASTHANCE THING luis happened to music— so 
strange, in fact, that I hardly know how to 
describe it. Up until the time of the Second 
World War, composers wrote music out of the con- 
viction that somehow, in some mysterious fashion, 
music could and did express profound human states 
and emotions. Music was a record in sound of the 
most intense kinds of human experience; and in 
those early decades of this century the best music 
was what I like to call "depth music", an intensely 
moxing coimterpart to tlic psychological and literary 
introspection of those years, perhaps even a docu- 
mentation in a profoundly creati\e sense of the 
dark and ominous shadows of human existence 
which characterized the mood of the early 20th 
century. Whate\cr the changes in external style and 
technique, there was about the depth music of this 
period— the music of Schonberg, Stra\'insky, Bartok, 
Ives, Webcrn, Berg— the sense of a supremely con- 
scious effort to link up with the great traditions es- 
tablished by the masters by the 18th and 19th cen- 
turies. It seems perfectly clear now, though it was 
much less clear 50 years ago, that these composers 
were not radicals and revolutionaries but rather 
great conserx atives, each with his own vision and 
voice, each stamping his music with the signature of 
his creative personality, each expanding the possibil- 
ities and dimensions of musical expression out of 
personal necessity rather than wilful, arbitrary mo- 
tivation. We value tlieir discoveries today, because 
they speak to us in expressive terms; and it is the 
record of human experience which they have cap- 
tured in these terms which validates their technical 
di.scoveries and innovations, not the other way 
around. But in the 20 years since the end of the 
Second World \\'ar, it seems that the growing impact 
of science and technology on all our modes of 
thought and existence has finally reached the art of 
music. And this is the strange thing that has hap- 
pened: by applying the scientific attitude and ide- 
ology, the composer has transformed music into a 
unique form of applied science. 

And this is perhaps the strangest of all: that com- 
posers should have succumbed at all to the enchant- 
ments of science or what they understand as science. 
In this case it really does not matter whether their 
ideas about science or those drawn from science are 
correct or not according to the \iew of science itself. 
^^'hat matters, what is of absolutely prime impor- 
tance, is that they have adopted and adapted to the 




DR. GEORGE ROCHBERG, .39 

Chairman, Department of Music 
Universitv of PennsvKania 



purposes of musical composition their understanding 
of concepts, methods and procedures which stem 
from the theory and practice of contemporary sci- 
ence. The end result of this application to musical 
composition of a predominately scientific orientation 
and case of mind has been the cxtcrnalization of 
music. By that I mean that the basic elements of 
music have become completely objectified and ma- 
terialized into sound phenomena and temporal 
phenomena. The properties of sound and the char- 
acteristics of duration, having been externalized as 
self-sufficient physical phenomena have in turn 
been subjected to ever\' conceivable kind of con- 
trolled analysis and experimentation in order to dis- 
cover not onl\- what the\" are made of, so to speak, 
but also how they function in and of themselves 
under varying conditions— quite apart from the sub- 
jecti\e feelings of the composer. 

The parallel with science is striking indeed. The 
scientist deals largely wath the world of external 
phenomena. His primary task is to understand 
these phenomena and to learn to control them by 
discovering the laws through which they function. 
.\11 of nature is the scientist's laboratory It is a 



truism that science proceeds by means of the experi- 
mental method and necessarily under controlled 
conditions and with the aid of increasingly sophisti- 
cated techniques and instrumentation. In falling un- 
der the magic spell of science, the composer has 
necessarily had to emulate the scientist by adopting 
his essentially objective ideology and attitude. More 
important, however, the composer has had to pro- 
vide himself with a world of external phenomena, 
and so has turned music into such a world, one upon 
which he can perform operations of an analytic and 
experimental nature. Some composers today believe 
firmly that musical composition is a form of research 
into the properties of sound and time and their 
possible combinations. Like science then, music has 
become essentially experimental in nature. In this 
sense it is said that a composition may be based on a 
theory or hypothesis of which the composition itself 
becomes a form of proof subject to validation by 
aural perception. This is indeed a new idea in mu- 
sic, at least in theory; and contradicts outright the 
traditional view that a musical work is the creation 
of an artistic statement which proves nothing but 
simply is. On the other hand other composers of 
experimental music are not at all concerned with 
music as forms of proof but simply as efforts to see 
what happens, what comes out, given certain situa- 
tions—good, bad or indifferent as the case may be. 
At the root of these notions of music as experiment- 
al is the depersonalization of the act of composition 
itself, the withdrawal of the subjective self of the 
the composer— the inevitable concomitant of exter- 
nalizing music. The idea of composing music as a 
creative act is necessarily antithetic to these com- 
posers because the creative act implies the overrid- 
ing presence of the personality of the composer in 
the making of his statement and primarily the exer- 
cise of his faculties of intuition and imagination, in 
themselves mysterious things which obey their own 
laws. The irony in all this is that today many scien- 
tists are behaving like artists while too many com- 
posers are trying to behave like their poorly con- 
ceived image of the scientist. There is striking evi- 
dence that the best scientists of our time prize very 
highly, indeed, their faculties of intuition and imag- 
ination. They are not averse to "inspiration". This 
odd reversal in the roles of scier tist and composer 
suggests that the composer's appreciation of the sci- 
entist's motivations and the way he works is super- 
ficial in the extreme and for this reason seriously en- 
dangers the composer's relation to his own field of 
endeavor. 

Composers have drawn on many of the funda- 
mental concepts or principles which have animated 



20th century science; but they have failed to appre- 
ciate the difference between hypothesizing in verbal 
or mathematical terms or symbols an already exist- 
ing state in nature— the movement of atomic parti- 
cles, for example— and applying such an hypothesis 
to a musical situation which has no prior external 
existence but must be arbitrarily manufactured or 
fabricated. Among the scientific concepts and prin- 
ciples which seem to have fascinated composers the 
most are 1) the principle of indeterminancy which 
applies to the micro-world of the atom and seems to 
contradict the straight-line cause and effect which 
operates on the level of the macro-world; 2) the 
concept of aleatory (or chance) which appears to 
contradict the logic of a purposeful direction, end or 
goal; and 3) the concept of discontinuity which con- 
tends with the idea of a continuously moving line of 
evolution and development. In addition to these, 
composers are also fascinated by 1) problems of 
aural perception which are the province of the sci- 
ence of psycho-acoustics and border on psychology; 
2) problems of random and non-random groupings 
which are the province of statistics and statistical 
analysis; and 3) problems of information theory 
which is basic to computer technology which in it- 
self ultimately leads to the science of neurology, the 
workings of the human central nervous system as 
Von Neumann has demonstrated so convincingly. It 
is obvious enough, simply by enumerating these 
areas of basic interest, that composers are too busy 
with the outside of music and the handling of time 
and sound as external phenomena to be much con- 
cerned, if at all, with the expressive aspects of music 
which are necessarily internal and subjective. 

The truth is that the dominant temper of our 
times is scientific, and there is no use being an os- 
trich about it and burying one's head in the sand. 
For better or worse, we live in a scientific age. 
Therefore we must be alive to whatever values sci- 
ence can lend to the conditions of human existence 
and the pursuit of human ends. To this extent, I am 
firmly convinced that every serious-minded com- 
poser who goes in search of music today must know 
his time and be sensitive and responsive to its best 
ideas, warm himself with the vital energies that ani- 
mate his world. The artist's task is to make every- 
thing that feeds into him from the world around him 
into art and if he finds the concepts of science grist 
for his mill, why should he not use them? But the 
composer must understand the difference between 
himself and the scientist, that the two are engaged 
with the world in entirely different ways: the com- 
poser as artist tries to create a new immaterial 
world through the medium of his materials while the 



scientist is trying to understand an already created 
world and does not possess the means to create a 
new physical world. 

The composer who goes in search of music as an 
act of creation not only discovers himself in the pro- 
cess, but also man. For what warms and energizes 
music, what makes it vital and passionate is not the 
movement of time by itself or sound in itself, but 
the man through whom movement and sound must 
pass before they can emerge as music. When he 
goes in search of music, the composer must inevit- 
ably confront himself; and when he does, he dis- 
covers the world to which he belongs, the world in 
which man is the self-aware, self-conscious, active, 
creative element in the hierarchy of biological strata. 
The composer who goes in search of music discovers 
that everything in Jiature, himself included, moves, 
that movement and rlnthm are built into nature. 
But only man is fully aware of movement and its 
forms and possibilities; and in the composer, this 
awareness is transformed into the shape of his musi- 
cal gestures. The composer who goes in search of 
music discovers that everything in nature, himself in- 
cluded, sounds, everything has its sonic indentity. 
But only man is fully aware of the possibilities of 
sound and its combinations; and in the composer, 
this awareness is transformed into the sounding sub- 
stance he shapes into musical gestures. There is that 
point at the far perimeter of experimental music 
where the composer must inevitably meet himself 
again as a man; and it is this ultimate meeting with 
his essential humanity which I believe will bring 
about the return to primary, root things where it is 
man who counts far more than soimd by itself or 
movement b\- itself and where it is the experience 
of the composer as a man which makes the inter- 
penetration of sound and movement into the music 
he is in search of. 



tDUCERE 

/ shall (JO here 
Where I slay 
Cottii'ini)urizit\g: 

Presumptive knowledge (sic) 
And wisdom (sic, sic) 

( Ultimus, a.um) 

Viz-ujz.." presented in: 

Inventive gnarl gnarl, 

Emetically prescriptive, 

And regurgitant. 

As Advertised: 

Iiijonnationid liiforniation Injorniationally 

Injornuilionalizcd. 

With footnotes. 

Edited by: Tantamount, U.S. 

Robert E. Lee Panlspress 

And others. 

Oh, America! Oh, Temporal Oh, Mores! Oh, me. 

Bv Arlluir Briuiiliiill. '31 



Facu 



LTY 



M 



EETING 



Some Say . . . 

(To M. J. P.) 

Some say time curves 
in upon itself, 
until NOW becomes then 
and THEN becomes now. 

^ ^ >;: ^ 

Wna/ of the winter gone; 
is it yet to come? 



Dry grasshoppers are like committees 

On the second Wednesday of the month 

The grasshoppers of the college speak 

Of all the great work of tlie past four weeks 

That no one did without the great cooperation 

Of all the other grasshoppers. 

The Presidetit. like a bishop. 

Blesses uhIIi a thank-you shower. 

The faculty, a grassy slope from A to Z 

Sleeps on and on, occasionally shivers at the 

drops of rain 
And goes to sleep again. 



By Robert Prive, '64 



By Herman M. Ward 



A Poem for Everyone 

Bv LAWRENCE H. CONRAD 




LAWRENCE H. CONRAD 

Professor Emeritus of English 

IT isn't the poets who have given poetry a bad 
odor; it's the teachers. FeeHng helpless about 
what to do with poetry in the classroom, and not 
wanting to be thought ignorant, the teachers have 
hung upon its fragile frame a half dozen great and 
ponderous disciplines that might conceivably have 
some value in "interpreting" a poem; and they would 
have you believe that all of these related things 
must be "learned" before you can "understand" the 
poem. Then, as each new area is covered (and the 
students' notebooks grow thicker and thicker), the 
teacher hurries on to the next one. A student can 
learn a great deal in such a course. But much of it 
has little to do with any one poem you might en- 
counter; and the customary practice of the class- 
room is never to return, anyway, to the little piece 
of poetry that gave rise to so much intellectual 
endeavor. 

This curricular preoccupation that has all but 



snuffed poetry out of the schools is made up of good 
and sound studies— of related subjects. There is the 
study of prosody, which my dictionary says is made 
up of "varieties of poetic feet and meters, rhymes 
and rhyming patterns, types of stanzas and strophes, 
and fixed forms." But one must also study organic 
rhythm, figurative language, diction and usage, im- 
ages and symbols, and a great body of material that 
comes into play as allusion and reference, employed 
in a figurative sense— and this latter is sure to open 
up the great storehouses of antiquity, the classics of 
literature, and the mythologies of the ancient civil- 
izations, and these taken together encompass pretty 
much of the knowledge of the world. It is not sur- 
prising that most of us, when we were in school, 
decided not to bother with all that, but to let the 
pretty little poem go unappreciated. We rightly con- 
cluded that so small a game did not warrant burning 
such a vast conflagration of candles. The conclusion 
is sound, because these difficult studies are really 
diversions: they hold the attention away from po- 
etry; and they do poetry the disservice of developing 
the intellectual muscles, so to speak, out of all pro- 
portion to the rest of the human organism. 

"After you learn this," the teacher says, "you'll 
come back to poetry ever so well equipped to carry 
on with it." To which I must add, Alas! Most of us 
never did come back. Most of us, indeed, never got 
in touch with poetry in the first place, so as to have 
something to "come back" to! Any poem we could 
think of, would be an anti-climax to such a pro- 
longed preparation. So we quit, right then and 
there. And hundreds of thousands more are quitting 
every year— here and now— in classrooms all o\er the 
country. 

The teachers have been chasing butterflies with 
sledgehammers in their hands. In doing their work 
this way, they have given us more than one genera- 
tion of students who can repeat for you all sorts of 
brilliant remarks about a gi\'en poet or a given 
poem, without ever once having been touched by 
poetry— and indeed, without even enjo)'ing the stuff. 
Moreover, the brilliant quips and sallies are not orig- 
inal with the student, but are straight out of the 
mouth of the teacher— who read them out of a 
book. And while all this brilliant talk is being 
bandied about in the classroom, the innocent poem 
that is supposed to call it forth, lies inert 

"Like a patient etherized upon a table" 



10 



igiiort'tl I)\ till' ilass ami the lecturer, and ina\l)f 
dead, lor all anybody knows or cares. 

Proceed inii ''i this hishion ami without nicanine 
an\ Iiaini tiir teachers have succeeded in making 
out ol poi'tr\ oui' ol the hea\ iest intellectual exer- 
cises in the cinriculnni of the schools. It ougiht to be 
tlir hiihtcst. \\\d tliis lias been going on lor so long 
that now tlie\\e e\en got the poets writing the 
kinds of lines that are onl\- good lor dissecting and 
auaixsing. A whole \ast school oi writers has been 
trained up to go into production and provide clini- 
cal material to ki>ep these laboratories going. What 
is being taught is not the physiology of a poem, but 
the anatomy of poetry. The post-mortem commen- 
ces with a dead body toward which nobody in the 
room has any personal or animate feeling. As one 
who knows how to do this kind of analysing, I sub- 
mit that it cannot be done well by a person who 
ri'alK likes poetry; and on the other hand, successful 
training in this grisly technique makes it extremely 
hard e\er to like poetr\' again. 

What the teachers have been doing, in short, is 
making poetry difficult, and limiting the area of its 
appeal to a select few who are able to culti\'ate a 
hard and brittle intellect for its apprehension. But 
the great poets wrote their poems for people to hear 
and to read. The teacher has become a middleman 
who has injected himself between the poet and the 
reader— with an almost disastrous effect upon each 
one. What I propose to offer is a series of sugges- 
tions for mo\ing tlic pocm into the center of the 
stage, where our spotlight has previously been fo- 
cused upon the technicalities of poetry. 

II. 

First of all, the teacher should stand to one side 
while promoting the encounter between poetry and 
the student. From a neutral ground, he should urge 
them into closer and closer proximity to each other. 
He can place them close together at the outset, by 
putting good poems within easy reach. He can tease 
up a little curiosity by making brief remarks about 
these poems or other poems. But he should not hang 
o\er the student on the one hand, or the poem on 
the other, as though jealous to ha\e his own (juality 
of feeling— and no other— spring up out of the en- 
counter. It is something like promoting a friendship 
between two people whom you like. You can bring 
them together, and then you can hover around just 
to see that they don't drift apart before a friendship 
has had a chance to form. But really you can do 
nothing further. If they are going to like each other, 
some glow of feeling will develop on its own ac- 



count. And poetr\ is like friendsliip. Poetry is a 
warm pujipy. You oiiK know it is warm b\ taking it 
into your ow n arms. 

II the tiachei is to remain physicalK' apart from 
the encounter, he should also refrain from coaching. 
He ought not to show a class things in the poem that 
they woidd not liave been able to find without his 
help. If the\' are searching for something, he might 
help them to look; but the wise teacher always hap- 
pens not to be the one who finds what the class was 
seeking. Someone in the class should find it and 
show it to his peers. If there is something else, even 
more important than what they have found, let the 
teacher bite his lip and keep silent. They will find 
what they are capable of finding. Their find will be 
their own. The teacher may have had years of ex- 
perience with the poem, w hich toda\'s class is seeing 
for the first time. Xo one should hustle them. No 
one should assume that the\' ought to come up, in 
ten minutes, w ith findings that have evolved for the 
teacher over a period of \ears. Let them come up 
w ith what tlu^\ come up with. 

The best w ay to teach a game to children is to get 
down on your knees among them, so that all will see 
the game fn)m the same eye-level. The teacher 
ought not to bear down upon the group either with 
a lecture or with asiy learned pronouncements. He 
should be on hand primarily to keep the spirit of 
play and of discoveiy alive. He should answer 
questions, if any (iiicstions are asked. He should not 
suggest questions, in order to have an excuse to 
answer them. An illustration is the problem of intro- 
ducing factual matter about the poet, as a means of 
advancing the game. If the poem arouses any curi- 
osity about the poet— (What manner of man would 
write such a thing?)— someone will ask a question on 
that point. The teacher should answer that question, 
and then leave off. If the poem arouses no curiosit> 
about the poet, then the class does not need to 
know anything about him; they should not be en- 
cumbered with biographical data that they do not 
need. Theie is alwavs a danger that a teacher of 
literature w ill get off into the teaching of lives of the 
poets, rather than the teaching of poetry. All infor- 
mation about authors— in an elementary or second- 
ary school classroom— should be given in response to 
curiosity which the literature itself arouses. 

If you are going to teach children about people's 
lives, don't choose poets. Choose a category- with a 
high percentage of exemplary traits, of strong vir- 
tues, and of deeds of valor. The poet, for his part, 
should be called in only when his work is being dis- 
cussed and someone wants to know how to take it. 

The whole class never needs to like a particular 



11 



poem, and no teaching effort should be expended to 
produce this result. There is no one poem, and no 
one body of poetry, that is indispensable to culture 
and education. Somewhere in the world, there are 
surely millions of poems. No one will ever read 
them all. Therefore they should be scattered with a 
lavish hand before students, and there should be a 
great deal of free choosing, with everyone urged to 
find something that is to his own liking. The student ■ 
who finds a poem he likes, has made a start at poetic 
taste and discrimination. But the student who finds 
a poem he definitely does not like, has also started 
on the road to poetic discrimination. He has begun 
to be able to tell one poem from another; perhaps 
even one kind of poem from another. There should 
be no punishment for that. It is the beginning of 
wisdom. 

Basically, there is surely a poem for everyone; and 
everyone should now and again be on the lookout 
for that poem. In all school courses, there should be 
a variety to choose from. If the set unit of work 
does not provide that variety, the teacher should 
provide supplementaries for the students to browse 
among when they have completed their homework. 
With these extra poems, from time to time let some- 
one read to the group a poem he has found that he 
likes. From time to time, read one yourself. Don't 
ask the student to explain why he likes the poem. 
This is almost the worst question (although it is 
probably the commonest) that can be asked in the 
field of literature. It is enough that he has found a 
poem. Sing Hallelujah! Finding a good poem 
should not ever get him into trouble or increase the 
perplexities with which he is beset. Finding a good 
poem should make it a great day. It should make 
him a member of the club. If this is properly han- 
dled, he will go on to find more and more good 
poems, and one of the chief purposes of education 
will have been fulfilled; for he will have formed a 
useful habit that will expand throughout his life- 
time. The ones he finds later may be better and 
better ones. 

If any student ever wants to know where to find 
good poems "like the one Carol found," in the name 
of heaven, let Carol be the one to tell him! Don't 
rush in, as some teachers do, and encumber him 
with a whole vast anthology to read. Chances are he 
didn't want to know that much. And the sight of so 
many poems, printed so close together, could cheap- 
en the whole exercise. You could never read that 
many poems; so might as well give up. 

Probably the best single device is one that gets 
poetry away from books and away from the printed 
page, and puts it on the air, addressed only to the 



ear. Many students who dislike poetry, dislike it 
mainly as reading matter. Many of them are willing 
to hear it, and they find that their objections do not 
arise while listening. Hence I offer a classroom de- 
vice which I have used many times, with generally 
satisfying results. Very short poems should be used. 
Each one should be stunningly good— a poem you 
would be sure to come back to if you came across it. 
The teacher should have a little store of them, 
which she knows so well that she never needs to 
have the book at hand and can offer the poems at 
any time. It is best if all of these are poems the 
class has not encountered before, anywhere. 

One day when the atmosphere of the room is just 
right, the teacher should happen to think of one of 
these small bits. Without setting a stage for it, she 
should read the piece to the class. The reading 
should be quiet and slow and all the words dis- 
tinctly said. When the reading is finished, she 
should stand and look around at the class, watching 
for occasional faces to tell her someone liked it. If 
hands go up, ignore them. Then, to one really inter- 
ested face, she might say, declaratively, "You hked 
that, Harry!" And if she gets a nod, she can then 
say, "Anybody else?" If hands go up, she can ac- 
knowledge them with a nod. But no talk; and no 
student chatter. "All right," she says at last, "if you 
will listen perfectly, I'll read it again." 

More silence, when she has finished. Then, quiet- 
ly, "How many liked it that time?" If hands go up, 
don't count them; just be glad about it. You and 
those hands have something going that can be de- 
veloped into a good thing. Keep the silence. Let 
nothing break it. Be the cat, if you like, just watch- 
ing the canary-cage; and take your time about it. 
Then say, "Do you know; that is so small and so 
nice, that I think if I read it one more time, some- 
body in the class will be able to read it back to me!" 
This will make a little flurry. It may be necessary 
for you to flag down the youngster who always has 
to have his say. Keep the silence, and wait, and 
wait. Then just hold up one finger, and start. Make 
the third reading very slow and very distinct— a 
little exaggerated, perhaps . . . And when you finish, 
wait . . . Look for faces. When you find one that is 
full of zeal and inward struggle, look straight at it 
and say, "Will you try it, Ned?" 

Ned will either read the piece, or he won't. He 
may start, and not finish. In any case, the exercise 
has really begun. If he reads it, this will encourage 
a whole flock of others. If he fails, those who were 
following him and can see what he failed on, will be 
encouraged to show that they can do it. No one 
finishes the other fellow's reading. Each reader 



12 



starts from the beginning. No one comments on 
the other fellow's reading. Comments are flagged 
down, and the silence is restored. No one gets 
called upon by waving his hand, howexcr xioU'iith 
in the air. People get called upon by lookin<j, ready. 
There can be five or si.\ readings. And then the bell 
should ring. If the bell doesn't ring at the right 
time, it's because the teacher started the exercise too 
early in the hour. The first time, the hour should 
have about twenty minutes to go. After that, not 
more than fifteen. Always have tluMn lea\e while 
wishing that the hour were longer. 

Students on that day or the ne.xt ma\- inquire what 
the poem means. That is a kind of talk to be avoid- 
ed. Don't let \oursclf be drawn into it, and present- 
ly it will die down . . . And don't do this exercise 
every da\'. Once a week is a lot, and best not on a 
fixed da\-. Do the exercise when the sign is right. 
.\fter a time, when two or more of the little poems 
have been taken up in class, you can start the exer- 
cise by asking someone to read the one we had last 
week or the week before. But ask only someone \'0u 
feel can do it. Let no one be embarrassed or per- 
secuted about this thing. Some people can do it 
quite readih'; for some it is very difficult. I always 
reach an understanding with my class. People who 
don't feel they can do it, can take an automatic pass 
for weeks and weeks. But in my experience, they all 
get drawn into it in the end. One who has never 
looked "ready" comes in one day and says, "I could 
have read it today. Will you try me next time?" 
And one who came through on almost the last day 
of the term, said, "As the weeks \\ent b\', it got to be 
easier and easier." 

Students who have taken part in this exercise be- 
come very friendK' with what the poets are trying 
to do. Without being able to recite about a poem, 
they get the feeling of it, and the feeling is of 
warmth or of reality or of truth. They quickly be- 
come able to find good poems for themselves. And 
of course, they remember a good deal of poetry, 
which is to say, they treasure it. 

This exercise does not involve memorization. 
The\- have never seen the poem with the eye. They 
cannot go back over it, lying there on a page, to 
photograph it with the eye. No; this is memory. It 
is memory of what has been heard with the ear. It is 
like the memory of music. I call the exercise "Poetry^ 
by Ear," and as in the case of music by ear, a certain 
amount of graceful looseness is permitted to the 
reader. He must be true to what the poem said, 
and he should be true to the music of the lines. But 
a substitute word here and there is not a fault; it is 
an accomplishment. The poet didn't happen to use 



that word; b)it maybe only because he didn't hap- 
pen to think of it. If a reader stops dead in the 
middle of a line, no one is allowed to call out the 
next word, as though poetry were made out of 
words! Bather, I just ask the reader what that line 
says, and he knows I will accept his paraphrase. It 
usually gets him going again. Sometimes the reader 
makes a substitution— unconsciously— that is very il- 
luminating. Sometimes I have wished the poet 
could hear what a good substitution was made by a 
mere youngster. 

The chief aim in teaching poetry should be to help 
students to become wideK' acquainted with poems 
and to encourage them to ])ecome quite familiar 
with some that they find by their own efforts and 
choose by the exercise of their own taste. Whatever 
furthers this aim, is a good technique in teaching. 
Somewhere in the world, there is a poem for every- 
one. Most people if properly awakened to poetry, 
will find a considerable body of it. Some will find 
only scattered pieces in a lifetime of exposure; but 
often such people \alue and treasure what they find 
and are among the fiercest partisans of poetry. No 
one should be coerced into trying to like all poetry; 
and so no one should be bullied into pretending to 
like any one particular poem. As there is a poem for 
everyone, the student who finds his one poem has 
accomplished something noteworthy. And even the 
student who has not found his one poem should be 
helped and encouraged. He may find it next week 
or next >ear, or perhaps even when he reaches the 
age of ninety. Nothing done ivith poetry in the 
schools should discourage him from continuing to 
search. 



JTONEHEXGE 



The rochs in dreadful silence stand 

And speak of fear, 

I feel the eyes of those long-dead 

Behold me here. 

1 he sunset casts its shadows on the vast expanse 

While in my mind are shadows of a ritual dance. 

A young girl stands in fire 

Rut her heart is ice, 

She screams, 

And giant stones resound the sacrifice . . . 

Alone amidst the ruins — ■ 

/\ familiar cry! 

1 Iremhle unth remenuirance then 

Tor it is 1. 

l.yncln M. Tua, '6 4 



13 



Some Impressions of 

Our Chinese Neighbors 



By EDNA D. SMITH 




m 




MISS EDNA D. SMITH, '16 

Who Spent 30 Years Teaching in China 

WHILE living, working or traveling for a number 
of years in the Swatow district of Southeast 
China, I have been deeply impressed by cer- 
tain qualities of the Chinese character. Many of 
these characteristics are found also in the nationals 
of other Southeast Asian countries. 

On trips into the rural regions of South China the 
people were alwa)s friendly and helpful. They 
would go more than the second mile to put one on 
the right road or path through the rice fields. Upon 
arriving at a strange village the pastor of the church 
or other friend would be sitting at the village en- 
trance to guide us safely to the church or home 
where we were to stay. No matter how poor the 
family, their genuine hospitality to a guest always 
was the best they could manage, even though it was 
only a cup of hot water instead of hot tea. 

The importance of the Family as a unit was 
shown at all times in China proper. Even now in the 
densely populated British Colony of Hong Kong, the 
loyalty and concern of each member for the whole 
family is most evident. Everyone carefully considers 
his actions in order not to case "loss of face" for the 
family. Each wage earner takes his pay home to in- 
crease the family budget so the younger children or 
parents or grandparents can have a better life. 

Chinese children are not self-conscious as so many 
western children are. When parents or teachers ask 
them to sing a song, tell a story, recite verses or a 



poem before others, they do it without hesitation. 
They also enjoy dramatizing stories and spend much 
time rehearsing and preparing for their parts. Most 
Chinese, whether old or young, are born actors, 
which quality is often shown in business dealings. 
The idea of bargaining is a game to them, and the 
merchants get much fun out of the bargaining, with 
no thought of dishonesty. They arc clever enough 
though, to lose no profit in the bargain. 

The ancient sage, Confucius, taught that "inteUi- 
gence" is one of the cardinal virtues, so the Chinese 
practically revere Education. Thus for centuries, the 
deep desire of each Chinese has been for an educa- 
tion. Whether in rural or urban areas, wherever 
there is a school building, one will hear lessons be- 
ing recited and see students industriously studying 
their books. 

The Chinese do not have a caste system, therefore 
anyone who will pay the price for it can enjoy an 
education. Many of the refugees in Hong Kong 
work eight or ten hours in factories, then go to night 
school for two or three hours to fulfill that hunger 
for learning. There are practically no disciplinary 
problems for the teachers, as all the students, wheth- 
er in first grade or in night school, apply themselves 
diligently to their studies. 

To a Chinese, time is not as important as it is to 
westerners. Often in a joking way, time is spoken 
of as "rubber time", for it stretches. It is not neces- 
sary to get something done or made within a speci- 
fied length of hours or days. To do a thing well, 
completing the whole in a soul-satisfying way, is 
more important to them than accomplishing it with- 
in a limited space of time. In Chinese philosophy, 
time is a wonderful healer as well as a solver of 
problems. 

The loyalty and concern of the Chinese for west- 
ern friends in China during the second World War 
was evident in many ways. At times they risked 
their own safety in order to supply food, clothing, 
and bedding to those held as prisoners. On occa- 
sions they even hid western friends and helped them 
escape to "free China." Even after the change of 
government took place, with anti-westeni propagan- 
da taught on every side, loyal Chinese visited their 
western friends late at night to ascertain their 

(Continued on page 33) 



14 



ncac^^n^-;4(i^n(f^ 'Peafdet 



By IRVING ELAN 
Social Studies Teacher at Barringer High School, Newark, N. J. 



NEW York City, Yonkers, Newark, Philadelphia, 
Louisville, East St. Louis, Pawtucket ... in 
all of tliese communities, teachers are angry 
about their salaries, their working conditions, their 
status, and the general climate in which they operate. 
In some of these cities, teacher anger has been 
focused on NEA leadership, one segment of the 
"Educational Establishment." Some communities 
have seen teachers call in sick in numbers large 
enough to close the schools! Some communities have 
been declared off limits for teachers unless condi- 
tions in these towns or cities improved. 

Picketing of Board of Education headquarters has 
become common. In recent years, collective bargain- 
ing elections have highlighted the rivalry of the 
National Education Association and the American 
Federation of Teachers for the allegiance of teach- 
ers. This organizational competition is but one 
small facet of the teacher's dilemma. I would sug- 
gest that teachers are angry with themselves. I 
would also suggest that teachers are angry with other 
teachers! 

What elements breed teacher discontent? One 
problem is that teachers, unlike most other profes- 
sionals, arc not independent entrepreneurs. Their 
salaries, hours, and working conditions are deter- 
mined by other people— by local Boards of Educa- 
tion. In some school districts. Boards of Education 
are elected and school budgets must be approved 
by the voters each year. In other school districts. 
Boards of Education are appointed by the Mayor 
and the budgets must be approved by Boards of 
School Estimate each year. 

In the first situation. Boards of Education are 
sometimes people by hacks, who are really opposed 
to excellence in education, and voters frequently 
knock down school budgets to protest against rising 
propcrt)' taxes. There are even some voters who are 
not sure whether public education is a public obliga- 
tion. In the Chapter VII district, the municipal bud- 
get is set after a perfunctor\' public hearing while 
the school budget must be approved at a public ref- 
erendum, and it is against the school budget that 
Mr. Taxpayer vents his wrath against rising taxes. 



In the Chapter VIII district, the Mayor, having 
appointed the members of the school board, calls 
upon them to cut school budgets so that a tax rise 
may either be prevented or kept low. Political ex- 
pediency is the chief consideration. 

In eitlier case. Chapter VII or Chapter VIII, the 
teacher in the classroom knows of definte needs 
which should be met, but budget cutting prevents 
these needs from being met. The teacher may also 
feel, and sometimes rightly so, that the Superintend- 
ent and his staff have not fought vigorously enough 
to achieve effective school budgets. 

Another problem lies with the teachers them- 
selves. Some teachers are in the field to earn a sec- 
ond salary to supplement their husband's income. 
Some other teachers are in the field to earn the 
main family income, and most of this group moon- 
light so that their families may participate in the 
affluent society. In the later situation, teachers must 
pace themselves so that they can have energy for 
two jobs. In the first case, teachers must conserve 
energy for family responsibilities. Women teachers 
\\\\o arc working to supplement family income are 
not committed to vigorously fighting for improved 
salaries and teaching conditions. The few teachers 
who are acti\'ely working to improve conditions are 
faced with reactions such as these: "I don't care!" 
or "Don't bother me; I'm too busy." and even, "I'm 
afraid!" 

In addition, some teachers have been thoroughly 
cowed by their administrators, making it difficult 
for teachers to be militant. 

Teachers are finding their work becoming in- 
creasingly difficult. The teacher in the urban school 
system meeting the disadvantaged child has diffi- 
culties which have been so well publicized that 
there is no need to catalogue them here. The teach- 
er in the middle class suburban community- faces 
the pressure of student and their parents, as they be- 
come invobed in the ever growing competitive col- 
lege entrance syndrome. 

A few years ago, the NEA conducted a sur\'ey of 
classroom teachers to discern what problem troubled 
the teachers the most. Teachers were not surprised 



15 



to learn that classroom discipline has become a tax- 
ing and critical problem. In the last fifteen years, 
teachers have been the victim of a squeeze play. 
Many administrators refuse to come to grips with 
this problem of discipline for fear of offending the 
parents. Happy, public relations is the guiding con- 
sideration. The teachers are told to grin and bear it 
—quietly, if you please! Teachers are well aware 
that this policy of the velvet glove is doing much to 
create a society victimized by teenage tyranny. 

Parents may want the schools to be good, but they 
fail to forcefully impress the political leadership 
which controls the purse strings. The failure of Con- 
gress to pass federal aid legislation through the 
years reflects the gap between paying lip service to 
education and providing a soimd financial base for 
the schools operation. The fact that Rutgers Univer- 
sity has to turn away more than 5,000 qualified ap- 
plicants shows that New Jersey also pays lip service 
to education and fails to provide the necessary fi- 
nancial base for its successful functioning. The pub- 
lic schools are the victims of the same gap-promise 
and reality. 

Teachers are not unaware of these matters as well 
as many others such as an unsatisfactory pension 
program and an excessively rigid sabattical and 
leave policy. 

At the root of the anger, however, is the teacher's 
lack of first-rank status in American society. This 
element is the key to understanding the headlines 
describing teacher dissatisfaction in all parts of the 
country. Only with first-rank status will this dissat- 
isfaction diminish and possibly disappear. 



NEIGHBORHOOD YOUTH- 

(Continued from page 5) 

placement was effected only if the enrollee could 
complete the high school education on or before 
June 1966. 

The enrollees in our program are required to re- 
port to the Youth Career Development Center for 
periodic counseling. Should an enrollee express a 
desire to terminate his enrollment in the Neighbor- 
hood Youth Corps, he is first counseled by the work 
supervisors and then referred to the Youth Career 
Development Center for counseling in depth. 

We are making every effort to promote job devel- 
opment. A member of the staff of the Neighborhood 
Youth Corps has as part of his assignment this im- 
portant aspect of our program. We are making every 
effort to coordinate our activities with those of or- 
ganizations such as the Business and Industrial Co- 
ordinating Committee, the Urban League, the Pru- 



dential Insurance Company, just to mention a few. 
The major objectives of our program or any pro- 
gram funded under the Economic Opportimity Act 
are as follows: 

1. To break the vicious c\'cle which has the uned- 
ucated and unemployable bringing up children 
who become in turn uneducated and unem- 
ployable. To prevent the child of poverty 
from becoming the parent of poverty. 

2. To make the enrollees more employable by 
providing opportunities for them to get job 
experience, learn good work habits and com- 
plete their high school education. 

3. To create or restore in these young people a 
degree of responsibility and self-esteem. 

4. To alleviate wherever possible the conditions 
which produce for these young people frustra- 
tions and the sense of failure, and to give them 
opportunities to experience success. 

A small staff has been provided to administer 
this program. There is a project director, a deputy 
director, seven work supervisors, a secretary and a 
clerk-typist. We are indeed fortunate that this staff 
is made up of extremely competent, dedicated, pro- 
fessional individuals. Without them the measure of 
success the program has enjoyed would have been 
out of the question. 

Any attempt to make a comprehensive, valid eval- 
uation of the program at this time would indeed be 
premature. However, we are pleased to report that 
apparently this is a workable program. President 
Johnson and Secretary of Labor Wirtz, lauded our 
progress. Terminations have been less than ten per- 
cent. Of this number, some have returned to day 
school, some have been placed in temporary civil 
service positions. The remaining few have either 
left for better paying jobs or represent "no-shows". 
We are currently doing a follow-up study on those 
who have been terminated. 

More than half of our current enrollees are either 
attending evening school or have expressed the de- 
sire to enroll in evening school this September. 

The first progress report on those currently at- 
tending evening school is expected within the next 
week or two. 

The cooperative support being given to the pro- 
gram by Mayor Addonizio, the department heads, 
and the pennanent supervisory personnel of the var- 
ious agencies, has given rise to a strong positive feel- 
ing that this program will indeed help to remove 
some of the frustrations and sense of failure and re- 
store hope and provide such experiences of success 
that many of these young people will become useful, 
productive members of our democratic society. 



16 



THE 

PLIGHT 

4. HUMANITIES 





COPYRIGHT 1965 BY EDITORIAL PROJECTS FOR EDUCATION, INC. 



\ 






A 



midst great 



material well-being, 

our culture stands in danger 

of losing its very soul. 




WITH the greatest economic prosperity 
ever known by Man; 
With scientific accomplishments 
unparalleled in human history; 

With a technology whose machines and methods 
continually revolutionize our way of life: 

We are neglecting, and stand in serious danger of 
losing, our culture's very soul. 

This is the considered judgment of men and women 
at colleges and universities throughout the United 
States — men and women whose life's work it is to 
study our culture and its "soul." They are scholars 
and teachers of the humanities: history, languages, 
literature, the arts, philosophy, the history and com- 
parison of law and religion. Their concern is Man 
and men — today, tomorrow, throughout history. 
Their scholarship and wisdom are devoted to assess- 
ing where we humans are, in relation to where we 
have come from — and where we may be going, in 
light of where we are and have been. 

Today, examining Western Man and men, many 
of them are profoundly troubled by what they see: 
an evident disregard, or at best a deep devaluation, 
of the things that refine and dignify and give meaning 
and heart to our humanity. 



H 



-ow IS IT NOW with us?" asks a group of 
distinguished historians. Their answer: "Without 
really intending it, we are on our way to becoming a 
dehumanized society." 

A group of specialists in Asian studies, reaching 
essentially the same conclusion, offers an explanation: 

"It is a truism that we are a nation of activists, 
problem-solvers, inventors, would-be makers of bet- 
ter mousetraps. . . . The humanities in the age of 
super-science and super-technology have an increas- 
ingly difficult struggle for existence." 

"Soberly," reports a committee of the American 
Historical Association, "we must say that in Ameri- 
can society, for many generations past, the prevailing 
concern has been for the conquest of nature, the pro- 
duction of material goods, and the development of a 
viable system of democratic government. Hence we 
have stressed the sciences, the application of science 
through engineering, and the application of engineer- 
ing or quantitative methods to the economic and 
political problems of a prospering republic." 



The stress, the historians note, has become even 
more intense in recent years. Nuclear fission, the 
Communist threat, the upheavals in Africa and Asia, 
and the invasion of space have caused our concern 
with ''practical" things to be "enormously rein- 
forced." 

Says a blue-ribbon "Commission on the Humani- 
ties," established as a result of the growing sense of 
unease about the non-scientific aspects of human life: 

"The result has often been that our social, moral, 
and aesthetic development lagged behind our material 
advance. . . . 

"The state of the humanities today creates a crisis 
for national leadership." 



T 



HE CRISIS, which extends into every home, 
into every life, into every section of our society, is 
best observed in our colleges and universities. As 
both mirrors and creators of our civilization's atti- 
tudes, the colleges and universities not only reflect 
what is happening throughout society, but often 
indicate what is likely to come. 

Today, on many campuses, science and engineering 
are in the ascendancy. As if in consequence, important 
parts of the humanities appear to be on the wane. 

Scientists and engineers are likely to command the 
best job offers, the best salaries. Scholars in the hu- 
manities are likely to receive lesser rewards. 

Scientists and engineers are likely to be given nnan- 
cial grants and contractsfor their research — by govern- 
ment agencies, by foundations, by industry. Scholars 
in the humanities are likely to look in vain for such 
support. 

Scientists and engineers are likely to find many of 
the best-qualified students clamoring to join their 
ranks. Those in the humanities, more often than not, 
must watch helplessly as the talent goes next door. 

Scientists and engineers are likely to get new build- 
ings, expensive equipment, well-stocked and up-to- 
the-minute libraries. Scholars in the humanities, even 
allowing for their more modest requirements of phys- 
ical facilities, often wind up with second-best. 

Quite naturally, such conspicuous contrasts have 
created jealousies. And they have driven some persons 
in the humanities (and some in the sciences, as well) 
to these conclusions: 

1) The sciences and the humanities are in mortal 



competition. As science thrives, the humanities must 
languish and vice versa. 

2) There are only so many physical facilities, so 
much money, and so much research and teaching 
equipment to go around. Science gets its at the ex- 
pense of the humanities. 1 he humanities" lot will be 
improved only if the sciences' lot is cut back. 

To others, both in science and in the humanities, 
such assertions sound like nonsense. Our society, 
ihey say, can well allord to give generous support to 
both science and the humanities. (Whether or not it 
will, they admit, is another question.) 

A committee advising the President of the United 
States on the needs of science said in 1960: 

". . . We repudiate emphatically any notion that 
science research and scientific education arc the only 
kinds of learning that matter to America. . . . Obvi- 
ously a high civilization must not limit its efforts to 
science alone. Hven in the interests of science itself, 
it is essential to gi\e full value and support to the 
other great branches of Man's artistic, literary, and 
scholarly activity. The advancement of science must 
not be accomplished by the impoverishment of any- 
thing else. . . ." 

The Commission on the Humanities has said: 

"Science is far more than a tool for adding to our 
security and comfort. It embraces in its broadest 
sense all eflbrts to achieve valid and coherent views 
of reality; as such, it extends the boundaries of ex- 
perience and adds new dimensions to human char- 
acter. If the interdependence of science and the hu- 
manities were more generally understood, men would 
be more likely to become masters of their technology 
and not its unthinking servants." 

None of which is to deny the existence of difler- 
ences between science and the humanities, some of 
which are due to a lack of communication but others 
of which come from deep-seated misgivings that the 
scholars in one vineyard may have about the work 
and philosophies of scholars in the other. DitTerences 
or no, however, there is little doubt that, if Americans 
should choose to give equal importance to both 
science and the humanities, there are enough ma- 
terial resources in the U.S. to endow both, amply. 



T 



Hus FAR, however, Americans have not so 
chosen. Our culture is the poorer for it. 




the humanities' view. 




Mankind 
is nothing 
without 
individual 



men. 



"Composite man, cross-section man, 
organization man, status-seeking man 
are not here. It is still one of the 
merits of the humanities that they see 
man with all his virtues and weak- 
nesses, including his first, middle, and 
last names." 

DO.\ CAMERON ALLEN 




WHY SHOULD an educated but practical 
American take the vitality of the 
humanities as his personal concern? 
What possible reason is there for the 
business or professional man, say, to trouble himself 
with the present predicament of such esoteric fields 
as philosophy, exotic literatures, history, and art? 
In answer, some quote Hamlet: 

What is a man 
If his chief good and market of his time 
Be but to sleep and feed? a beast, no more. 

Others, concerned with the effects of science and 
technology upon the race, may cite Lewis Mumford: 

". . . It is now plain that only by restoring the 
human personality to the center of our scheme of 
thought can mechanization and automation be 
brought back into the services of life. Until this hap- 
pens in education, there is not a single advance in 
science, from the release of nuclear energy to the 
isolation of DNA in genetic inheritance, that may 
not, because of our literally absent-minded automa- 
tion in applying it, bring on disastrous consequences 
to the human race." 

Says Adlai Stevenson: 

"To survive this revolution [of science and tech- 
nology], education, not wealth and weapons, is our 
best hope — that largeness of vision and generosity of 
spirit which spring from contact with the best minds 
and treasures of our civilization." 



T 



HE COMMISSION on the Humanities cites five 
reasons, among others, why America's need of the 
humanities is great: 

"1) All men require that a vision be held before 
them, an ideal toward which they may strive. Ameri- 
cans need such a vision today as never before in their 
history. It is both the dignity and the duty of hu- 
manists to offer their fellow-countrymen whatever 
understanding can be attained by fallible humanity 
of such enduring values as justice, freedom, virtue, 
beauty, and truth. Only thus do we join ourselves 
to the heritage of our nation and our human kind. 

"2) Democracy demands wisdom of the average 
man. Without the exercise of wisdom free institutions 



and personal liberty are inevitably imperiled. To 
know the best that has been thought and said in 
former times can make us wiser than we otherwise 
might be, and in this respect the humanities are not 
merely our, but the world's, best hope. 

"3) . . . [Many men] find it hard to fathom the 
motives of a country which will spend billions on its 
outward defense and at the same time do little to 
maintain the creative and imaginative abilities of its 
own people. The arts have an unparalleled capability 
for crossing the national barriers imposed by language 
and contrasting customs. The recently increased 
American encouragement of the performing arts is 
to be welcomed, and will be welcomed everywhere 
as a sign that Americans accept their cultural respon- 
sibilities, especially if it serves to prompt a corre- 
sponding increase in support for the visual and the 
liberal arts. It is by way of the humanities that we 
best come to understand cultures other than our own, 
and they best to understand ours. 

"4) World leadership of the kind which has come 
upon the United States cannot rest solely upon su- 
perior force, vast wealth, or preponderant technology. 
Only the elevation of its goals and the excellence of 
its conduct entitle one nation to ask others to follow 
its lead. These are things of the spirit. If we appear 
to discourage creativity, to demean the fanciful and 
the beautiful, to have no concern for man's ultimate 
destiny — if, in short, we ignore the humanities — then 
both our goals and our eflbrts to attain them will be 
measured with suspicion. 

"5) A novel and serious challenge to Americans 
is posed by the remarkable increase in their leisure 
time. The forty-hour week and the likelihood of a 
shorter one, the greater life-expectancy and the earlier 
ages of retirement, have combined to make the bless- 
ing of leisure a source of personal and community 
concern. "What shall 1 do with my spare time' all-too- 
quickly becomes the question 'Who am I? What shall 
I make of my life?' When men and women find 
nothing within themselves but emptiness they turn 
to trivial and narcotic amusements, and the society 
of which they are a part becomes socially delinquent 
and potentially unstable. The humanities are the im- 
memorial answer to man's questioning and to his 
need for self-expression; they are uniquely equipped 
to fill the 'abyss of leisure.' " 

The arguments are persuasive. But, aside from the 



scholars themselves (who are already convinced), is 
anybody listening? Is anybody stirred enough to do 
something about "saving" the humanities before it 
is too late? 

"Assuming it considers the matter at all," says 
Dean George C. Branam, "the population as a whole 
sees [the death of the liberal arts tradition] only as 
the overdue departure of a pet dinosaur. 

"It is not uncommon for educated men, after 
expressing their overwhelming belief in liberal educa- 
tion, to advocate sacrificing the meager portion found 
in most curricula to get in more subjects related to 
the technical job training which is now the principal 
goal 

"The respect they profess, however honestly they 
proclaim it, is in the final analysis superficial and 
false: they must squeeze in one more math course 
for the engineer, one more course in comparative 
anatomy for the pre-medical student, one more ac- 
counting course for the business major. The business 
man does not have to know anything about a Bee- 
thoven symphony; the doctor doesn't have to com- 
prehend a line of Shakespeare; the engineer will 
perform his job well enough without ever having 
heard of Machiavelli. The unspoken assumption is 
that the proper function of education is job training 
and that alone." 

Job training, of course, is one thing the humanities 
rarely provide, except for the handful of students 
who will go on to become teachers of the humanities 
themselves. Rather, as a committee of schoolmen 
has put it, "they are fields of study which hold values 
for all human beings regardless of their abilities, 
interests, or means of livelihood. These studies hold 
such values for all men precisely because they are 
focused upon universal qualities rather than upon 
specific and measurable ends. . . . [They] help man to 
find a purpose, endow him with the ability to criticize 
intelligently and therefore to improve his own society, 
and establish for the individual his sense of identity 
with other men both in his own country and in the 
world at large." 



I 



.s THIS reason enough for educated Americans 
to give the humanities their urgently needed support? 



# The humanities: "Our hves are 



'"''Upon the humanities depend the 
national ethic and morality. . . 





the substance they are made of." 




. . . the national use of our 

environment and our material accomplishments.''' 



. . . the national aesthetic and 
beauty or lack oj it . . . 




# ^^A million-dollai^ 
project without 
a million dollar s^^ 



THE CRISIS in the humanities involves people, 
facilities, and money. The greatest of these, 
many believe, is money. With more funds, 
the other parts of the humanities' problem 
v^ould not be impossible to solve. Without more, 
they may well be. 

More money would help attract more bright stu- 
dents into the humanities. Today the lack of funds is 
turning many of today's most talented young people 
into more lucrative fields. "Students are no different 
from other people in that they can quickly observe 
where the money is available, and draw the logical 
conclusion as to which activities their society con- 
siders important," the Commission on the Humanities 
observes. A dean puts it bluntly: "The bright student, 
as well as a white rat, knows a reward when he sees 
one." 

More money would strengthen college and uni- 
versity faculties. In many areas, more faculty mem- 
bers are needed urgently. The American Philosophical 
Association, for example, reports: ". . . Teaching 
demands will increase enormously in the years im- 
mediately to come. The result is: (1) the quality of 
humanistic teaching is now in serious danger of de- 
teriorating; (2) qualified teachers are attracted to 
other endeavors; and (3) the progress of research and 
creative work within the humanistic disciplines falls 
far behind that of the sciences." 

More money would permit the establishment of 
new scholarships, fellowships, and loans to students. 




More money would stimulate travel and hence 
strengthen research. "Even those of us who have 
access to good libraries on our own campuses must 
travel far afield for many materials essential to 
scholarship," say members of the Modern Language 
Association. 

More money would finance the publication of long- 
overdue collections of literary works. Collections of 
Whitman, Hawthorne, and Melville, for example, 
are "officially under way [but] face both scholarly 
and financial problems." The same is true of transla- 
tions of foreign literature. Taking Russian authors as 
an example, the Modern Language Association notes: 
"The major novels and other works of Turgenev, 
Gogol, Dostoevsky, Tolstoy, and Chekhov are readily 
available, but many of the translations are inferior 
and most editions lack notes and adequate introduc- 




tions. . . . There arc more than half a dozen transla- 
tions of Crime and Piini.s/inicnf. . . . but there is no 
Enghsh edition of Dostoevsky's critical articles, and 
none of his complete published letters. [Other] writers 
of outstanding importance. . . . have been treated 
only in a desultory fashion." 

More money would enable historians to enter areas 
now covered only adequately. "Additional, more 
substantial, or more immediate help," historians say, 
is needed for studies of Asia, Russia, Central Europe, 
the Middle East, and North Africa; for work in intel- 
lectual history; for studying the history of our West- 
ern tradition "with its roots in ancient, classical. 
Christian, and medieval history"; and for "renewed 
emphasis on the history of Western Europe and 
America." "As modest in their talents as in their 
public position," a committee of the American His- 



IHUS PROFESSOR GAY Wll SON ALIEN, OOC of the 

editors, describes the work on a complete edition 
of the writings of Walt Whitman. Because of a 
lack of sufficient funds, many important literary 
projects arc stalled in the United Slates. One in- 
dication of the state of afTairs: the works of only 
two American literary figures — Emily Dickinson 
and Sidney Lanier — are considered to have been 
collected in editions that need no major revisions. 



torical Association says, "our historians too often 
have shown themselves timid and pedestrian in ap- 
proach, dull and unimaginative in their writing. Yet 
these are vices that stem from public indifTerence." 

More money would enable some scholars, now en- 
gaged in "applied" research in order to get funds, to 
undertake "pure" research, where they might be far 
more valuable to themselves and to society. An ex- 
ample, from the field of linguistics: Money has been 
available in substantial quantities for research related 
to foreign-language teaching, to the development of 
language-translation machines, or to military com- 
munications. "The results are predictable," says a 
report of the Linguistics Society of America. "On 
the one hand, the linguist is tempted into subterfuge — 
dressing up a problem of basic research to make it 
look like applied research. Or, on the other hand, he 
is tempted into applied research for which he is not 
really ready, because the basic research which must 
lie behind it has not yet been done." 

More money would greatly stimulate work in 
archaeology. "The lessons of Man's past are humbling 
ones," Professor William Foxwell Albright, one of 
the world's leading Biblical archaeologists, has said. 
"They are also useful ones. For if anything is clear, 
it is that we cannot dismiss any part of our human 
story as irrelevant to the future of mankind." But, 
reports the Archaeological Institute of America, "the 
knowledge of valuable ancient remains is often per- 
manently lost to us for the lack of as little as S5,000." 



MORE money: that is the great need. But 
where will it come from? 
Science and technology, in America, 
owe much of their present financial 
strength — and, hence, the means behind their spec- 
tacular accomplishments — to the Federal govern- 
ment. Since World War II, billions of dollars have 
flowed from Washington to the nation's laboratories, 
including those on many a college and university 
campus. 

The humanities have received relatively few such 
dollars, most of them earmarked for foreign language 
projects and area studies. One Congressional report 
showed that virtually all Federal grants for academic 
facilities and equipment were spent for science; 87 
percent of Federal funds for graduate fellowships 
went to science and engineering; by far the bulk of 
Federal support of faculty members (more than $60 
million) went to science; and most of the Federal 
money for curriculum strengthening was spent on 
science. Of $1,126 billion in Federal funds for basic 
research in 1962, it was calculated that 66 percent 
went to the physical sciences, 29 percent to the life 
sciences, 3 percent to the psychological sciences, 2 
percent to the social sciences, and 1 percent to "other" 
fields. (The figures total 101 percent because fractions 
are rounded out.) 

The funds — particularly those for research — were 
appropriated on the basis of a clearcut quid pro quo: 
in return for its money, the government would get 
research results plainly contributing to the national 
welfare, particularly health and defense. 

With a few exceptions, activities covered by the 
humanities have not been considered by Congress to 
contribute sufficiently to "the national welfare" to 
quaUfy for such Federal support. 



I 



.T IS on precisely this point — that the humanities 
are indeed essential to the national welfare- — that 
persons and organizations active in the humanities 
are now basing a strong appeal for Federal support. 

The appeal is centered in a report of the Commis- 
sion on the Humanities, produced by a group of dis- 
tinguished scholars and non-scholars under the chair- 
manship of Barnaby C. Keeney, the president of 
Brown University, and endorsed by organization 
after organization of humanities specialists. 

"Traditionally our government has entered areas 



where there were overt difficulties or where an oppor- 
tunity had opened for exceptional achievement," the 
report states. "The humanities fit both categories, 
for the potential achievements are enormous while 
the troubles stemming from inadequate support are 
comparably great. The problems are of nationwide 
scope and interest. Upon the humanities depend the 
national ethic and morality, the national aesthetic 
and beauty or the lack of it, the national use of our 
environment and our material accomplishments. . . . 

"The stakes are so high and the issues of such 
magnitude that the humanities must have substantial 
help both from the Federal government and from 
other sources." 

The commission's recommendation: "the establish- 
ment of a National Humanities Foundation to 
parallel the National Science Foundation, which is so 
successfully carrying out the public responsibilities 
entrusted to it." 



s, 



UCH A PROPOSAL raiscs nnportant questions 
for Congress and for all Americans. 

Is Federal aid, for example, truly necessary? Can- 
not private sources, along with the states and mu- 
nicipalities which already support much of American 
higher education, carry the burden? The advocates 
of Federal support point, in reply, to the present 
state of the humanities. Apparently such sources of 
support, alone, have not been adequate. 

Will Federal aid lead inevitably to Federal control? 
"There are those who think that the danger of 



a 



Until they want to. 



it woriH he done. 



^^ 



BARNABY c. KEENEY (oppositc page). University 
president and scholar in the humanities, chairs 
the Commission on the Humanities, which has 
recommended the estabHshment of a Federally 
financed National Humanities Foundation. Will 
this lead to Federal interference? Says President 
Keeney: "When the people of the U.S. want to 
control teaching and scholarship in the humani- 
ties, they will do it regardless of whether there is 
Federal aid. Until they want to, it won't be done." 




A. • / ^ = 

,' - ii a. 



Federal control is greater in the humanities and the 
arts than in the sciences, presumably because politics 
will bow to objective facts but not to values and 
taste," acknowledges Frederick Burkhardt, president 
of the American Council of Learned Societies, one 
of the sponsors of the Commission on the Humanities 
and an endorser of its recommendation. "The plain 
fact is that there is always a danger of external con- 
trol or interference in education and research, on 
both the Federal and local levels, in both the public 
and private sectors. The establishment of institutions 
and procedures that reduce or eliminate such inter- 
ference is one of the great achievements of the demo- 
cratic system of government and way of life." 

Say the committeemen of the American Historical 
Association: "A government which gives no support 
at all to humane values may be careless of its own 
destiny, but that government which gives too much 
support (and policy direction) may be more danger- 
ous still. Inescapably, we must somehow increase the 
prestige of the humanities and the flow of funds. At 
the same time, however grave this need, we must 
safeguard the independence, the originality, and the 
freedom of expression of those individuals and those 
groups and those institutions which are concerned 
with liberal learning." 

Fearing a serious erosion of such independence, 
some persons in higher education flatly oppose Fed- 
eral support, and refuse it when it is offered. 



Whether or not Washington does assume a role in 
financing the humanities, through a National Hu- 
manities Foundation or otherwise, this much is cer- 
tain: the humanities, if they are to regain strength 
in this country, must have greater understanding, 
backing, and support. More funds from private 
sources are a necessity, even if (perhaps especially if) 
Federal money becomes available. A diversity of 
sources of funds can be the humanities' best insurance 
against control by any one. 

Happily, the humanities are one sector of higher 
education in which private gifts — even modest gifts — 
can still achieve notable results. Few Americans are 
wealthy enough to endow a cyclotron, but there are 
many who could, if they would, endow a research 
fellowship or help build a Ubrary collection in the 
humanities. 



I 



.N BOTH public and private institutions, in both 
small colleges and large universities, the need is ur- 
gent. Beyond the campuses, it aff"ects every phase of 
the national life. 

This is the fateful question: 

Do we Americans, amidst our material well-being, 
have the wisdom, the vision, and the determination 
to save our culture's very soul? 



The report on this and the preceding 15 
pages is the product of a cooperative en- 
deavor in which scores of schools, colleges, 
and universities are taking part. It was 
prepared under the direction of the group 
listed below, who form editorial projects 
FOR EDUCATION, a non-profit organization 



associated with the American Alumni 
Council. (The editors, of course, speak for 
themselves and not for their institutions.) 
Copyright © 1965 by Editorial Projects for 
Education, Inc. All rights reserved; no 
part may be reproduced without express 
permission of the editors. Printed in U.S.A. 



DENTON BEAL 

Carnegie Institute of Technology 

DAVID A. BURR 

The University of Oklahoma 

DAN ENDSLEY 

Stanford University 

BEATRICE M. FIELD 

Tulane University 

MARALYN O. GILLESPIE 

Swarthmore College 



CHARLES M. HELMKEN 

American Alumni Council 

JOHN I. MATTILL 

Massachusetts Institute of Technology 

KEN METZLER 

The University of Oregon 

RUSSELL OLIN 

The University of Colorado 

JOHN W. PATON 

Wesleyan University 



ROBERT L. PAYTON 

Washington University 

ROBERT M. RHODES 

The University of Pennsylvania 

VERNE A. STADTMAN 

The University of California 

FREDERIC A. STOTT 

Phillips Academy, Andover 

FRANK J. TATE 

The Ohio State University 



CHARLES E. WTOMAYER 

Dartmouth College 

DOROTHY F. WILLIAMS 

Simmons College 

RONALD A. WOLK 

The Johns Hopkins University 

ELIZABETH BOND WOOD 

Sweet Briar College 

CHESLEY WORTHINGTON 

Brown University 



CORBIN GWALTNEY 

Executive Editor 



JOHN A. CROWL 

Associate Editor 



t 




CONGRESSMAN HENRY HELSTOSKI, '47, '49 

Ninth District, New Jersey 
The First Montclair Graduate to Ser\e in Congress 



THE HELSTOSKI STORY 



From the Classroom to Capitol Hill! 

(This stor\' was prepared with the assistance of 
Representative Henry Helstoski and his administra- 
tive assistant, Mr. Allen Koreivo.) 



FROM THE CLASSROOM to Capitol Hill is quite a 
leap, but Henry Helstoski (BA '47, MA '49) 
makes the hurdle look easy. 

Henry, a Democrat, surprised the experts last No- 
vember when he upset the long-dominant Bergen 
County Republicans in winning the Ninth Congres- 
sional District seat. The first Montclair State gradu- 
ate to serve in Congress, he is now busy proving 
that teachers make excellent public officials. 

Congressman Helstoski long ago brushed aside the 
argument that teachers should stay out of politics. 
He beliexes that teachers, because of their aware- 
ness of history and of problems that have— and 
haven't— been solved, have the necessary background 
to serve their communities effectively and well in 
elective offices. 

Henry began his own political career the hard 
way, seeking a Borough Council seat in 1956 in East 



Rutherford, the same community in which he served 
on the high school faculty. Henry won, and since 
then has yet to lose an election. He has made 
steady progress, both as an educator and as a law- 
maker. Professionally, he rose from teacher to de- 
partment head to principal. Politically, he has kept 
pace: from councilman to mayor to Congressman. 

"The teacher learns quickly that advance prepa- 
ration is the key to rewarding classes", the former 
English and Social Studies instructor observes. "It 
also is the key not only to winning a political cam- 
paign, but to being able to cope witli tlie duties 
that follow". 

In winning his Congressional campaign, Helsto- 
ski benefited from the popularity of another former 
teacher, Lyndon B. Johnson. But he was on his own 
in territory long hostile to Democratic candidates. 
Even his opponents concede that Henry Helstoski's 



17 



campaign was a masterpiece. 

Proof of the Helstoski touch: The day after his 
election victory was confirmed, billboards through- 
out the Ninth District bearing the Helstoski plea for 
votes received a new addition, a banner reading 
"Thanks For Your Support". 

Preparation for the campaign began months be- 
fore the election and brought nationwide attention 
to the Montclair State product. 

In April he launched a major effort to obtain Fed- 
eral aid to hasten development of the 20,000-acre 
Hackensack River meadowlands. He had played a 
major role in development already evident there, 
particularly in East Rutherford, where he served 
as mayor from 1957 until early this year. 

Even wider acclaim was won when candidate 
Helstoski took off in July on a personally-financed 
world-wide tour which took him to all of the existing 
international trouble spots. 

Today, when Viet Nam is discussed, Representa- 
tive Helstoski has an advantage over many of his 
colleagues: he's been there. He also visited Cyprus, 
talked with leaders of both sides in their bitter in- 
ternal struggle. 

On what was scheduled to be the final day of his 
trip, he received i3ermission to go behind the Iron 
Curtain. He delayed his homecoming to visit Po- 
land, where he learned first-hand of life behind the 
Red barrier, aided by his ability to speak Polish. 

During the campaign, Henry took a ribbing from 
former classmates about his "tenting" on Route 3. 
Campaign headquarters there was a former circus 
tent, which served to remind those coming into 
Bergen County from Secaucus that Henry Helstoski 
was a candidate. Nearby was a red, white and blue 
trailer, used as a campaign office. The future con- 
gressman painted it himself. 

Helstoski's limitless stamina— perhaps abetted by 
his experience as a track coach— enabled him to be 
heard by thousands throughout the Ninth District. 
His speaking ability gained many converts. 

All this preparation led to victory. It gave him 
the responsibility of representing 500,000 constitu- 
ents, residents of 37 Bergen County communities 
plus North Bergen and Guttenberg in Hudson Coun- 
ty. 

N(nv, five months after his hectic campaign ended, 
he is engaged at the same energetic pace, working 
to provide the best possible representation for his 
constituents. 

"This is still a learning process for me", Henry told 
a Chamber of Commerce recently. "I'm making the 
adjustment from an executive position (Mayor of 
East Rutherford) with 8,000 constituents to a legis- 



lative one with 500,000 constituents". 

He co\ers much ground in his busy schedule. 
Henry flies to Washington early Monday morning 
and remains there until late Friday. On weekends 
at home, he spends his time in conference with con- 
stituents attending affairs that bring him before 
the people in all areas of his district. Fortunately, he 
gets along on very little sleep and has an iron con- 
stitution. 

A Congressman's job is so varied that it is difficult 
to describe his duties in a very few words. But 
Henry thinks the late Luther Patrick, a Representa- 
tive from Alabama, once summed it up best in a 
speech before the House. 

"A Congressman", he said, "has become an ex- 
panded messenger boy, an unemployment agency, 
getter-out-of the Army, Navy, and Marines, a ward 
heeler, a wound healer, trouble shooter, law explain- 
er, bill finder, issue translator, resolution interpreter, 
controversy oil-pourer, glad hand extender, business 
promoter, convention goer, civic goodwill promoter, 
veterans affairs adjuster, ex-serviceman's champion, 
watchdog for the underdog, sympathizer for the 
upperdog, kisser of babies, recoverer of lost bag- 
gage, soberer of delegates, adjustor for traffic viola- 
tors and voters straying into Washington and into 
the toils of the law, binder-up of broken hearts, fi- 
nancial wet nurse, a Good Samaritan, contributor to 
good causes— there are so many good causes— corner- 
stone layer, public building and bridge dedicater, 
ship christener. To be sure, he does get in a little 
flag-waving and a little Constitutional hoisting and 
spread eagle work, but it is getting harder every 
day to find time to properly study legislation, the 
very business we are primarily here to discharge, 
and it must be done above all things". 

"Surprising, isn't it, how many of these tasks the 
school teacher carries out daily with his own con- 
stituents—his pupils and their parents?", Helstoski 
asks. "Fortunately, the classroom teaches one how to 
handle people and their problems. It provided me 
with training I consider invaluable and I can think 
of no better way to have prepared myself for this 
new purpose." 

A Congressman's office is a busy place, handling 
thousands of individual cases at any gi\en time, 
playing host to visiting constituents daily and re- 
ceiving and answering a staggering amount of mail. 

For that reason, the congressman must be an ef- 
ficient organizer. Here again, Henry has gained the 
necessary experience, as former principal of Walling- 
ton High School, not only on administrative proce- 
dure but also on being able to select the right per- 
sonnel for his staff, people who are s\mpathetic, 



18 



(lUK'k and i'itn.'i('iit. 

The Hclstoski ottico on tlit- foiirtli floor of the 
Cannon House Office Building, a short distance 
from The Capitol, receives more than 5,000 letters 
each month, not including newspapers, periodicals, 
reports and internal communications. Fach must be 
opened and read, and all are answered. Those that 
cannot be handled by a staff member are referred 
directly to Congressman lielstoski, who spends each 
morning reading mail to weigh his constituents' 
judgment with his own as a means of arri\ing at 
decisions. 

Many constituents write their \iews when they are 
violently for or against any particular piece of legis- 
lation. Others make it a habit of expressing their 
opinion to Henry on every major issue before the 
Congress. Many communications are in the form 
of petitions signed by a large number of constituents. 
In the Helstoski office, each of these signers receives 
an answer. 

"Almost 50 per cent of our mail deals with person- 
al problems of our constituents", Helstoski points 
out. "To deal with these matters, one has to be sym- 
pathetic and must try in e\'ery way to be helpful. 
This is an approach which I and my staff always 
take. We always try to place ourselves in the other 
fellow's position and then do our best to straighten 
out his problem. 

"Of course, we are not miracle workers and there 
are many personal troubles that we or no one else 
can overcome. We just alwa>'s do our best and try 
to make our constituent realize this." 

Status as a problem-solver isn't left behind in 
\\'ashington when the congressman returns home to 
his district offices in East Rutherford. There, he 
conducts what some observers label a "confessional", 
listening to the complaints and problems of people 
who demand to see him personally. 

Henry has been surprised at the number of im- 
migration cases his office must handle— obtaining 
visas, extending them and completing eleventh-hour 
reprieves for many due to leave the country. This 
results, he points out, from the wide ethnic back- 
ground of the people \\ho li\e in his constituency. 

When he is in Washington, Henry's day is fully 
occupied. 

He lives in a one-room efficiency apartment a 
short distance from Capitol Hill. Arising at 6 each 
morning or shortly after, he usually spends some 
time reading the Washington Post and the Congres- 
sional Record, which are delivered daily. 

From each he gathers opinions on the current 
area of interest and checks on how they are being 
treated editorially. 



.Some mornings he breakfasts alone, others he 
uses to meet with constituents who might be in 
town on h()lida\ or business. Breakfast conferences 
are e.\tr( ind) valuable, because these Henry can 
usualK' keep. The schedule normally is not dis- 
rupted \('t this early in the da\'. 

"I usually reach my olliee at about 9:15 to start 
m\- official day. My schedule is spelled out for me 
in' m\- secretary hour-b\-hour, but both of us know 
(lie odds are slim that I can stick to it the entire day. 
The ways of Congress are unpredictable." 

He goes through the morning mail and outgoing 
correspondence that needs his signature with Miss 
Eileen Linahan, his secretary, who is a Capitol Hill 
\eteran and adept at finding ways and means to get 
just about anything done quickly. 

He gives .special instructions for de\eloping cases 
that are non-routine and may dictate letters to a 
number of citizens. 

He reviews current legislation and new bills he is 
considering with his legislative assistant, Joseph 
Brozstowski. 

During this time, he also may answer several tele- 
phone calls from his district office, residents back 
home or colleagues. 

He di.scusses public and adniiiiistrati\e matters 
with Allen Koreivo, his administrative assistant, and 
outlines a speech he wishes to make the next day on 
a bill under consideration by the House. 

Congress begins its sessions daily at noon and so 
he squeezes in as much as possible before bells- 
very much like a school fire alarm bell— begin smn- 
moning members to the House Floor. 

His secretary may usher a family from back home 
into his presence— many go to Washington on vaca- 
tion and make it a must to stop and see their con- 
gressman. After exchanging pleasantries and per- 
haps discussing a vote or two with Helstoski, a secre- 
tar\- pro\ ides the family with tickets to the House 
Gallery or perhaps one of many special tours con- 
ducted in the capital. 

Some mornings are taken up with committee 
meetings. Henry is a member of the committees on 
Government Operations and Veterans' Affairs. 
Hearings can be brief or long— depending on the 
importance of business at hand and the number of 
witnesses to be heard. 

The (juorum bell at noon brings all representatives 
hurrying to the House floor for roll call. 

Debate on issues takes place during the day and if 
\otes are not imminent, committees may continue 
tlieir sessions in the afternoon. 

"But on a vote call we all rush back to the floor to 
register our decisions on legislaticm", Henry says. 



19 



Congress may adjourn at 4 o'clock— or several 
hours later. The uncertainty of the Congressional 
day makes it particularly hard on secretaries who are 
trying to arrange mutually convenient times for ap- 
pointments. 

Going back to his office, Henry checks on incom- 
ing phone messages left for him and confers with 
aides on matters of importance which have cropped 
up during the day. Henry is an original thinker and 
often reverses a course set by an aide, who some- 
times finds himself learning something new under 
the Helstoski approach. 

The congressman might call a newspaper reporter 
back home, giving additional reasons for a stand he 
has taken in voting, or may call others to confirm 
that he will appear personally at a function that 
weekend. He receives at least two or three invita- 
tions daily to attend civic and political meetings. It 
is impossible to be at all of them, so he must make 
decisions without hurting feelings. 

He uses a dictaphone to record correspondence 
for his secretary before leaving the office. It is a 
rule of the Helstoski office to leave as unfinished 
each day only those jobs which absolutely cannot be 
completed immediately. 

Seldom does he leave the House Office Building 
before 6:30 P.M., and his day is not necessarily done 
then. He often must dine at meetings of one group or 
another and frequently meets in the evening with 
people from the district. 

Later, he once again scans the newspapers or be- 
gins preparing the outline of a speech or newsletter 
before retiring to prepare for another busy day. 

"I am kept busy, but after all, that's why I was 
sent to Washington", Henry says. "The schedule is 
familiar to any school teacher. The time spent on 
the floor of Congress— as in the classroom— is only a 
small part of the preparation or follow-up that must 
coincide with a working day". 

Helstoski has lost none of his individuality. 

"Many people will be surprised to learn of the 
great degree of independence the individual con- 
gressman retains in Washington", the 40-year-old 
lawmaker notes. 

"Making decisions is always difficult when you 
are trying to represent the best interest of 500,000 
persons. This is compounded somewhat by political 
party ties, but not to the degree that many people 
believe". 

In a vote, all members of the House are independ- 
ent and co-equal. The ability of the Speaker of the 
House to ride roughshod on any member to force a 
vote a certain way is limited by the fact that com- 
mittee assignments and chairmanships are based 



primarily on seniority of service rather than by per- 
sonal favoritism. This reduces the influence a ma- 
jority leader or party machinery can have on the 
way an individual votes. 

Henry contends he is much better off than a cor- 
poration executive. The executive is virtually forced 
to go along with the whims of the president of a 
company, or else his promotion might be withheld 
or he could even be fired. The Congressman may 
be pressured and cajoled, but he knows that he can 
be fired or held back only by the voters back home. 

It was this very tendency toward independence 
that separated Henry from the rest of the freshmen 
members of the 89th Congress when he and 28 other 
lawmakers voted against providing money to con- 
tinue the activities of the House Committee on 
Un-American Activities. 

The vote brought some howls of protest and de- 
nunciation, but a flood of mail followed his action 
that showed the bulk of those responding to be be- 
hind his purpose. Newspaper editorials praised him 
for his thinking and for his courage in avoiding the 
easy way out. 

"Obviously my vote was not a matter of political 
expediency, but one of conscience. It would have 
been much more pleasant to follow the desires of 
veterans posts and other organizations to back the 
committee, but I chose not to do so for several 
reasons". 

The very title of the committee is enough to stir 
up opposition to anyone who stands in its way, 
Henry points out. 

"Being against any committee that is supposed to 
investigate un-American activities is like taking a 
stand against motherhood", Henry admits. 

"But I felt, and still do, that the activities of the 
HUAC would be handled more capably and more 
fairly by the House Judiciary Committee. In fact, 1 
introduced a bill to make the HUAC a subcommittee 
of the Judiciary Committee." 

Henry outlines several reasons for his opposition 
to the HUAC. 

"The process of this committee is basically un- 
American in practice. Those accused have no right 
to cross-examine or face their accusers, who remain 
anonymous. The public automatically believes any- 
one who is hauled before the HUAC is guilty of 
some act against his country. He has no chance to 
refute this. 

"And only recently has this committee discovered 
there is a Ku Klux Klan and an American Nazi Party 
and that there are some right-wing elements which 
also pose a great danger to our democracy. 

"There are economic aspects to consider also. The 



20 



activities of the House Un-American Activities Com- 
mittee lead to no legislation and yet this 9-man iniit 
spends $94,603 per committee member, the highest 
rate of any Congressional committee. It also em- 
ploys 57 people who receive total earnings of $851,- 
427. 

"There is no need to have this as a standing com- 
mittee, since its activities would be more properly 
placed with the Federal Bureau of Investigation, 
which does a more effective job with less fanfare, 
and in the end assures the accused a fair trial." 

He has brought tliese same arguments before dis- 
trict groups. His listeners invariably express satis- 
faction with his stand after his reasoning is ex- 
plained. 

This type of independence and thinking is just 
what his former classmates would expect of Henry 
Helstoski. All who know him expect there will be 
more decisions in which Helstoski will stray from the 
easy path. He seldom avoids a controversy. But, 
he'll always ad\ance a plausible argument favoring 
the side he's on. 

By his very nature and training, Henry is dedica- 
ted to the cause of better public education. His re- 
cent remarks in Congress during debate on the Ad- 
ministration's successful Aid to Education Bill were 
singled out by several of his colleagues as among the 
most outstanding speeches made in support of the 
legislation. 

Here are excerpts from his remarks: 

"It is a shocking fact tliat while the United States 
stands for equality of opportunity, it permits gross 
inequalities in educational opportunity. 

"Far too high a percent of our citizens suffer 
handicaps that result from lack of functional liter- 
acy. Fewer and fewer children are denied schooling 
completely, but many children attend poor schools 
and only for a short period of time. Lack of ade- 
quate schooling, both as to quality and amount, is 
partly responsible for the millions of disadvantaged 
Americans who have recently been migrating from 
undeveloped rural slums to congested urban slums. 

"Low educational achievement is associated with 
low earning capacity, unemployment, high rates of 
rejection for military service and dependence on var- 
ious types of relief. 

"Recent analysis of the relation of education to 
economic development indicates that the develop- 
ment of Tiuman capital'— specifically, investment in 
education— has actually been more important as a 
source of economic growth than has the accumula- 
tion of physical capital. 

"Education contributes directly to economic 
growth, because it improves the quality of the labor 



force. Education contributes directly, but signifi- 
cantly, because it is the .source of the research for 
much of our technological progress. 

"It has been estimated that in recent years invest- 
ment in education has been responsible for up to 40 
per cent of the Nation's growth and productivity 
through higher wages and greater purchasing power 
for the worker in the new products and techniques 
which come from trained minds. 

"Yet, while we want the best kind of school pos- 
sible, we have not yet demonstrated as a nation that 
we are willing to pay for the best. We must face 
up to the need for the very large number of teachers 
that will be recjuired, as well as for the increasing 
need for teacher specialization. 

"We must substantially raise teachers' salaries and 
help to insure that a higher proportion of our school 
teachers will become career teachers. 

"Schools of the kind we want will cost more mon- 
ey, a lot more money. The cost of education will 
continue to rise even if we merely accommodate 
sheer numbers and do nothing at all to improve the 
quality of education." 

As expected, Helstoski's performance in Washing- 
ton has not been a passive one. He has been heard 
on all matters of importance and has sponsored or 
co-sponsored a growing number of bills. 

Among legislation he has introduced are measures 
to set minimum safety standards for the manufac- 
ture of automobile tires; to create a special unit to 
protect the scenic beauty and public accessibility of 
the Hudson River Palisades and to make the House 
Un-American Activities Committee a subcommittee 
of the Judiciary Committee. 

Helstoski-sponsored bills also have been intro- 
duced to guarantee voter rights, to combat water 
pollution, to designate Columbus Day as a national 
holiday, to release for public viewing a United 
States Information Service film on the late John F. 
Kennedy and a number of other proposals. 

What of Henry's future? 

"That is up to the voters", Henry points out. 

In 1966 he must seek reelection if he intends to 
stay in the House of Representatives. Since he is in 
a predominantly Republican district, a second con- 
secutive \ictory would probably assure a long and 
successful political career ahead. 

Those who know him well can't conceive of his 
being a loser. The only path for Henry Helstoski 
leaps upward, they say. 

"If you think teaching is fine training for a future 
congressman, just think about what a fine teacher 
could emerge after two years in the House of Repre- 
sentatives", he quips. 



21 



Will S. Monroe (1863-1939 

THE FIRST PROFESSOR OF EDUCATION AT MONICLAIR 

By DR. FRANK \1. CORDASCO 

Associate Professor of Education 



As MoNTCLAiR State College continues into 
its second half century of teacher education its 
history becomes a fascinating story, and the 
rosters of those who have taught at the college, its 
alumni, its exciting educational innovations and 
experiments all testify to a dynamic period in 
American educational history. Of all the important 
educators who have been associated with Montclair 
State College, Will S. Monroe (1863-1939) enjoys 
special distinction. During his tenure at Montclair, 
Monroe was one of the nation's most eminent his- 
torians of education; his publications not only 
brought national attention to the young institution: 
in many ways these publications established the 
history of education as an important academic dis- 
cipline in the nation's colleges. It is regrettable that 
Monroe has been inadvertently omitted from the 
Dictionary of American Biography (New York, 
Scribner's, 1928-36, 20 vs.; Supps., 1944, 1958). 

Will S. Monroe, appointed to teach psychology 
and the history of education, was a member of the 
original faculty at Montclair Normal School when it 
was organized in 1908. (See James P. Pettegrove, 
"Montclair's First Half Century," Teacher Educa- 
tion For a Changing World, Montclair State Col- 
lege [1958], pp. 9-17). He remained at Montclair 
until 1925 when he retired from teaching, bringing 
to an end an educational career of some forty years 
which had included service as a classroom teacher, 
principal, superintendent, and college professor. 

Monroe was born on March 22, 1863 in Lucerne 
County, Pennsylvania, was educated in the county's 
rural schools and at Huntington Mills Academy. He 
received his A.B. at Stanford University and did 
graduate work at the Universities of Leipzig and 
Jena in Germany, and Paris and Grenoble in 
France. From 1881-1887, he had been a teacher and 
principal in the Lucerne County schools; 1887- 
1888, he was superintendent of schools at Nanticoke. 
Pennsylvania; and from 1889-1892, he held a similar 
post in Pasadena, California. He came to the Mont- 
clair Normal School from the State Normal School at 
Westfield, Mass., where he had been an instructor 
in the history of education from 1896-1908. During 
his long tenure at Montclair (1908-1925), Monroe 
also served as visiting lecturer at the Universities 
of Chicago, Illinois, and Vermont; at Columbia 
University; at the University of Prague; at the 
University of Bulgaria (Sofia) and at the American 



University of Beirut. President Woodrow Wilson ap- 
pointed Monroe to the United States Peace Inquiry 
Commission which he ser\ed (1918-19) as head of 
the sub-committee on the Balkans because of his ex- 
tensive knowledge of these countries, 

All his life, Monroe remained a prolific writer. He 
was a contributing editor to the Cyclopedia of Edu- 
cation (New York, Macmillan, 5 \s,, 1910 13), the 
only general encyclopedic \\'ork on education availa- 
ble in English;^ was for a time associate editor of the 
Pedagogical Seminary, and contributed many arti- 
cles to educational journals. His most important 
books on education include the follow ing: 

The Educational Labors of Henry Barnard. A 
Study in the History of American Pedagogy. 
Syracuse, C. W. Bardeen, 1983.- 

A Bibliography of Henry Barnard. Boston, New 
England Publishing Company, 1897. 

A Bibliography of Education. New York, D. 
Appleton, 1897. This includes 3200 classified 
and annotated entries limited to publications in 
English. 

Comenius and the Beginnings of Educational Re- 
form. New York, Scribner's, 1900. 

Progress of Education in Italy. U. S. Bureau of 
Education. Report ( 1907 ) . 

History of the Pcstalozzian Movement in the 
United States. Syracuse, C. W. Bardeen, 1907. 

Monroe also did classroom textbooks which were 
widely successful; important volumes (historical, 
sociological and institutional on Bohemia (1910) 
and Bulgaria (1914); and travel books on Turkey 
widely successful;'' important volumes (historical, 
(1907), Sicily (1909) and Norway (1909). All of 
the titles have long been out of print. The educa- 
tional titles are eagerly sought after in the antiquar- 
ian book trade for libraries which are building refer- 
ence collections in education, and the Comenius and 
Pcstalozzi volumes are considered classics by schol- 
ars in the history of education. 

Above all else. Professor Will S. Monroe was a 
great teacher, an excellent colleague, and a friend. 
One of his associates at Montclair, Laura Woodward 
Abbott, wrote of him: "All his heart and soul, his 
intelligence and physical being, appeared to enter 
everything he said and did." 

(Footnotes and References, page 32) 



22 



An Alumnus Looks at the Peace Corps 

By RAY OLSEN, '59 



I HAVE RECENTLY SPENT t\\o vcars ill the Phil- 
ippines as a Peace Corps \\)Iuiitcer, teacliinj^ 
English for one year in an elementary school in 
a small \ illage, and for the other year in a teachers 
college in a major city, Iloilo. I had returned to 
the United States in June, 1964, and soon began a 
full-time program toward my master's degree, which 
will he completed in Jime 1965. 

At the present time, I find it very difficult to eval- 
uate the two-year experience in the Peace Corps in 
such a way as to make it meaningful to someone 
else. I have heard some of my fellow-\'olunteers say, 
near the end of our two-year stay in the Philippines, 
that they have gained a deeper respect and under- 
standing for the United States as a result of their 
living and working in another country. This is very 
true. What is especially valued and respected in the 
American culture is its belief in the individual. And 
because of its size and power, America can take 
the initiative in spreading what it believes to be 
"right." But with regard to the aim of the Peace 
Corps— international understanding— we have over- 
looked or minimi/cd tlie more important outcome 
of the whole experience of living and working with 
people of another country: the ideal of international 
understanding has not only been institutionalized 
but has begun to become a reality among indixidn- 
als. The smallest unit of international understanding 
—that between one individual and another— has be- 
gun to be considered important. In each of these 
units of international understanding is found the 
beginnings of an enlightened feeling of international 
respect. 

Respect is not grounded on a feeling of superi- 
ority, nor is it moti\ated from fear, or a feeling of 
inferiority. It is not even synonymous with vmder- 
standing, appreciation, or acceptance of other's val- 
ues. Xor is it a positive kind of tolerance. It is a 
feeling of equality one iiuli\idiial lias toward anoth- 
er. And this belief in equalitx accepts as its broad 
base the differences among men. It is an emotion- 
ized attitude of mind. It enables one to see another 
as an equal. Social position within a society— wheth- 
er high or low— is seen to be secondar\' to the man. 
Without low-class men there would be no high-class 
men, and vice-versa. \\'itlH)nt ordinary men. there 
would be no superior men. 

The political power of the United States \ery of- 
ten creates barriers to this kind of respcxt. Either a 




small nation fears or en\ies our power, or we pro- 
ject a refined, but oppressive, feeling of superiority. 
The fact that we are a powerful coimtr\' has detri- 
mental consequences on the personal level of indi- 
vidual international contacts. Each American im- 
consciously has a feeling of political importance. 
Sometimes it is worn as a protection; often it is the 
result of appropriate national pride. What the 
American often doesn't realize is that what he takes 
to be only a personal feeling of importance is really 
a reflection in him of the pride and power of the 
United States; he doesn't realize that a man from 
another country does not have this same doze of 
politically-internalized pride. Only an American 
who has tra\flc'(l widcK or who has li\ed abroad 
sees his larger self in its relationship to his culture 
and nation. The insensitive American thinks e\ery 
man of "intelligence" should feel the same way he 
does. This American goes about trxing to under- 
stand other people, but always from his own frame 
of reference which has been built up out of the 
feeling of .America's centrality in the world. I like to 
think of this outlook as "National Geographic \i- 
sion." 

The man from another country is also prevented 



23 



from gaining real understanding of a visiting Ameri- 
can, because he often views him, unconsciously 
perhaps, as a sort of representative or epitome of 
American culture, and embues him with all the 
political and cultural colorings he believes are per- 
tinent. Sometimes, this biased outlook works to the 
advantage of the American, especially if there is 
within the other person a secret admiration of the 
power of the United States. It is true that the trav- - 
eling man— American or otherwise— is always repre- 
senting his native country by his behavior. It is im- 
possible to separate the individual from his cultural 
background. 

But, I believe, that serious-thinking men try to go 
beyond the national and cultural boundaries and 
frames of mind which separate men. Just as the 
word "inter-national" signifies, understanding on this 
level is an attempt to break down or break through 
the national parochialisms. International under- 
standing begins, first of all, when there is contact 
between at least two culturally different individuals; 
and secondly, when there is a common goal between 
them, or something which they can both work on 
together, such as an educational or community-de- 
velopment goal encouraged through the Peace 
Corps. Two different nationals working together on 
a common goal learn how each goes about solving 
the problems at hand. In this working together, 
national and cultural differences of values are seen 
as they reveal themselves in a context. By the same 
token, similarities among men are also experienced. 

This idea of sharing is of central importance to the 
Peace Corps goal of understanding. The host-coun- 
try individual realizes his relevance and importance 
in the outcome of a project, and the American 
gains an insight into the complexities involved in 
international relations. 

The real differences among men, I believe, are not 
biological, but cultural in origin. The superficial 
differences of cultures, such as eating customs, 
clothing, architectural design, religious practices, 
can often be understood and respected when they 
are seen as the projections of deeper values of the 
culture. What is very difficult to attain is not only 
the understanding but also the respect of other's 
values. We can easily make the mistake of assuming 
that if a particular culture were as economically ad- 
vanced as we are, they too would come to adopt our 
values and discard their present values as outmod- 
ed, ("agrarian, medieval, colonial, nineteenth cen- 
tury"). I tend to believe that if each democratic 
country or republic were as economically advanced 
as we, there would still be diversity in democratic 
definitions and practices. Our real strength, I be- 



lieve, lies in our potential to encompass many values 
within our own culture, and to respect the values of 
any other culture. This is part of the meaning of 
freedom. 

Sixt\-odd years ago we knew literally nothing 
about the Filipino, or his culture. We regarded him 
as a savage, and we, the chosen of God, were des- 
tined to civilize him, to bring him "freedom" and 
"democracy." This was not the cause of our political 
entanglement with the Philippines, but was the re- 
actionary outcome of our beginnings in international 
in\olvements at the start of the twentieth century. 
The Philippines was our "guinea pig." Today, we 
Americans and the majority of Filipinos believe that 
the Philippines has benefitted from us, economically 
and politically, despite our initial ignorant blunders 
in international relations. Because of our education- 
al undertakings throughout the islands, our develop- 
ment of trade, and our actions in \\^orld War II, the 
Filipino people on the whole have learned to love 
America. We like to think we deserve their grati- 
tude. We are ever grateful of better and improved 
relations with them. But we must not overlook the 
Filipino who resents the American influence in the 
Philippines. His honest voice may often prove to be 
the link between better international understanding, 
and respect. Many well-educated Filipinos believe 
that America had crippled the Philippines at the 
very time it was capable of exercising its own inde- 
pendence. One need only read Leon Wolff's docu- 
mentary narrative called Little Brown Brother to get 
a better concept of the early antagonisms between 
America and the Philippines, and to get an insight 
into the present feelings of hostilib,'. Nick Joaquin, a 
Filipino poet and writer of international repute, 
gives the American the opportunity (or privilege) 
of understanding America's negative impact as it is 
felt by a modern Filipino, in his allegorical novel. 
The Woman Who Had Two Navels. On a symbolic 
level, America is revealed as the very rich, but very 
busy father who showers his daughter- the Philip- 
pines—with everything money can buy, but forgets 
to give her the paternal love she needs. Here is a 
beautifully-written "inside look" at imperialstic 
America. No wonder many Filipinos appear to be 
over-polite and even obsequious to American visit- 
ors. I think behind some of this over-politeness— 
this compulsion to go out of their way to please the 
visitor— lies a deep hostility to a felt feeling of infer- 
iority to the American, or more correctly, to the 
white man. Granted, the four-hundred-year Spanish 
rule was largely responsibile to inculcating the idea 
of the supremacy of the white man. But we have not 
been free from this same prejudice. Especially dis- 



24 





THE CAST OF ALL NINE PLAYS THAT RAY PRODUCED TAKE A BOW. 



turbing to the Filipino is tlie bombardment of news- 
paper and magazine articles which point up the 
Negro problem in America. During World War II, 
the Filipino soldier was denied all rank above a 
mess cook. Was this only militarily expedient? Not 
to the Filipino. And what about the present living 
situation of American businessmen and servicemen 
in Manila and Clark Field? Both economically and 
socially the American is, for the most part, insulated 
from real contacts or insights with Filipino culture, 
b\- his PX "America-transplanted" culture, his ability 
to spend four times the amount of an equixalent 
Filipino worker, and his "inescapable" belief of 
playing the role every Filipino expects a "rich" 
American to play. The American is often caught in 
the \icious c\cle of having to play the "wealthy 
role," because ver>' often the Manilian Filipino ex- 
pects him to be "as good as his money." 

I once happened to hear an American business 
executive in Manila say something like this: "I don't 
know what it is with these Filipino employees. Ev- 
ery Christmas, they look for a bonus. And when they 
get it, they don't even thank \ou for it. Not one 
word!" I have experienced similar predicaments, 
when I received no word of thanks from Filipinos 
who received gifts from me. I couldn't understand 
their attitude at first. On each occasion, it seemed as 
if they were expecting the gift, as if they thought 
they deserved it. This is a small, but significant, 
sampling of the kind of misunderstanding which 



occurs, because of a lack of understanding of the 
different behavioral patterns in each culture. 
Through observations and informal chats, I think I 
began to understand the difference in behavior, al- 
though it is difficult to explain fully without going 
into detail. Simply stated, their forgetting to thank 
someone is an attempt to avoid social embarrass- 
ment. The acceptance of a gift, especially from an 
American, seems to connote a feeling of indebted- 
ness which is tinged with a feeling of humilit)'; and 
in order to avoid any social embarrassment of a deep 
feeling of gratefulness, the Filipino will tr\' to "play 
down" the real significance of the act. To the F'ilip- 
ino, "sa\ ing face" is very important. He often shies 
away from showing his true feelings, by pretending 
another attitude. Sometimes his feelings reveal 
themselves in laughter, which is always acceptable 
and usually preferred. Most Filipinos are very sensi- 
tive to the behavior and feelings of others. But they 
"prefer" not to have their emotions publicly read, 
nor to squander them in extraversion or frankness. 
Other behavioral patterns also have to be under- 
stood in light of the traditional values of the society. 
One national characteristic of Filipinos which Amer- 
icans always seem to dwell upon tediously is their 
so-called "laziness." To an average Filipino farmer 
or fisherman in a small village, life is relativeh- 
stable, although not static. Hardships have to be 

(Contiuticd on page 32) 



25 



Contrasts are Easy to Remember 



Bv DR. EDWIN S. FULCOMER 




DR. EDWIN S. FULCOMER 

Former Head of the Department of English at M. S. C. 

THE MORNING of August 31, 1962 was clear and 
cold. The first frost whitened the Vermont 
hills, and here and there were touches of 
scarlet. The lake was without a ripple, a Glimmer- 
glass reflecting sky and hills. The air made one 
want to walk briskly, chop wood, or biuidle up and 
sit in the sun. Three days later, just after noon, we 
drove on to the Dillard campus in a temperature of 
95 degrees, humidity of equal height, and an at- 
mosphere carrying a faint odor, of decaying vegeta- 
tion. Thus were we introduced to New Orleans, 
city of contrasts. 

We moved into an air-cooled apartment in the 
Guest House; had luncheon in an air-conditioned 
restaurant; returned to be greeted by the President 
and Dean in an air-conditioned office. We stayed in 
the shade of live oaks and magnolias until we 
reached Howard House, then stripped to the bare 



essentials to unpack clothing. We stopped only to 
go to the Coke machine for the inevitable and to 
flop upon the freshly-made bed now cool with de- 
humidified air. 

After the sun had plopped into the Lake— it was 
suddenly dark, and we had shopping to do. We and 
most of the City, for 5 P. M. to 9 P. M. are the pre- 
ferred shopping hours at this season. And only next 
day did we learn that New Orleans was "The Place 
Without Twilight", which is the title of an excellent 
regional novel of New Orleans. We had already 
read The Movie Goer and discovered that we were 
sitting right in the center of the area which is the 
locale of that award-winning novel. 

Now that night had settled down upon us, a lei- 
surely walk seemed a good idea. We started— but 
were safely back indoors within five minutes. The 
mosquito infestation was at its height, and no one, 
but No One, went out at night if it could be avoided, 
and then only after the insect bomb had supplied 
sufficient grease to coat a Channel swimmer. Jersey 
mosquitoes may have bad reputations; Louisiana 
mosquitoes carry stilettos for stings and possess 
perseverance which ends only with death. The Con- 
trast was already noticeable, and we hadn't yet 
settled down for our first night in the Gulf South. 

One of the satisfactions of being an alumnus of 
Columbia University is that in collegiate circles one 
need never be lonely. When I called the Humani- 
ties Staff together for their first meeting I discov- 
ered that I had been a fellow member of a Teachers 
College chorus with the Head of the Department of 
Music more than thirty >'ears ago; the Professor of 
Religion was completing a thesis for a Ph. D. degree 
at Union Theological Seminary under a Professor 
whose daughter had been a student at the Lincoln 
School; and there was Dr. Lou LaBrant, one of the 
great names of the English teaching profession, a 
friend and associate since the da\'s of the Eight 
Year Experiment of Thirt\' Schools in Secondary Ed- 
ucation, that Orphan of the Storm of the Thirties. 
The Head of the Department of Modern Languages 
was a political exile from Boli\ia who is preparing 
for Cornell University a grammar of the language of 
the Bolivian Indians. His wife is secretary to the 
French Consul in New Orleans, and a more delight- 
ful, cosmopolitan couple would be hard to find. The 
Head of the Deparment of History had taken his 
Ph. D. degree under Prof. Dixon R\an Fox at Co- 



26 



lumbia Universih', and since I had been a student ot 
Dr. Fox, there were many persons and events to re- 
call with him. So I felt surrounded h\- friends both 
personal and professional. 

After ten days of at least tluee shower-baths a 
day, and at least two changes of clothes, some re- 
spite from the heat and humidity was imperative. 
There was the Mississippi Gulf Coast only si.xty 
miles awa\-. We found a pleasant motel at Biloxi 
after a dri\e under live oaks along a promenade of 
Anti-Bellum mansions including that of Mr. Jeffer- 
son Davis. This was a world far removed from the 
Garden State Parkwa\' and the New Jersey beaches. 

How did it feel to teach classes comprised entirely 
of negroes? For me, at first it was awkward, 
strange; for the students it was normal procedure 
since sixt)' percent of the Staff were white. Soon 
they were merely students, then personalities, per- 
sons, and a few liecame friends. Some were highly 
intelligent, well prepared, alert, and eager. Why 
shouldn't they be? Their parents and grandparents 
had been college graduates, freciuently they were 
the third generation to attend Dillard. Always I 
foimd dependable young people to assume the class 
leadership one needs whether it be MSC or Dillard 
University. 

Christmas in the Deep South! I had been pre- 
pared by literature— mostly that of the 19th Cen- 
tury—for the fire-crackers, tlie balmy Christmas 
weather, the Christmas Eve festivities, a gayet\' 
more spontaneous than we knew in the chilly North. 
Canal Street shops were beautifully decorated- with 
li\e Christmas trees; houses were illuminated with 
such enormous strings of lights one wondered 
whether the light rafters could sustain them. If one 
wanted snow, he could have it; ice machines came 
and turned the lawns temporarily white, or there 
was "permanent" snow which was purchased b\- the 
bag as we buy rock salt to get rid of the doubtful 
blessing of a Northern winter. Out b\- the Lake a 
giant Santa's Workshop prepared children for gifts 
which had been "laid away" in the stores before 
Thanksgiving, and weekly desposits for their re- 
demption made their promise sure on Christmas 
Eve. And the Angel Choir sang the same recorded 
carols o\'er a public-address s\stem to which we 
are compelled to listen in the super-markets on 
Valley Road. 

Then Christmas Night 1963 a wind blew out ot 
the North chilling and killing the beautiful gardens 
in the Garden District with an eight inch deposit of 
the real "\\hite stuff", ice closed the dri\e along 
Lake Boulevard, and hundreds of shovelers were 
required to sho\el out the Stadium for the New 



Year's Bowl Game. And two travelers returning 
from the warm comfort of the Gulf Coast of Florida 
sat on the sea wall at Biloxi and made snow-balls in 
a sun so warm that it threatened to make this story 
a scurrilous Yankee lie— even with photographs to 
prove it. 

If Winter comes. Spring is very close behind in the 
Place of Contrast. February not April is the month 
of promise tlicre. The natives bring out their garden 
furniture to loll in the sun, admire the azaleas, daf- 
fodils, and the baby green leaves of the live oaks 
which are pushing off the old grey leaves of last 
year. Li\ e oaks may be deciduous, but they choose 
to behaxe like evergreens. The magnolias just get 
sun-happ\ and dress up in green, smooth-as-wax 
leaves big enough to serve as a Mardi Gras costume. 

For right after Christmas the Mardi Gras madness 
begins. Young women chosen as Queens forsake 
college for the Spring semester; doctors or lawyers 
chosen Rex or Momus or Neptune reduce their prac- 
tice to a minimum and prepare for nights of re- 
hearsal and revelry. Law or medicine will keep until 
Ash Wednesday, until next )ear, for the remainder 
of life; but only once can one be king or queen. His- 
tory, m\th, and allegory are curiously mixed in the 
Krew balls, which are costumed like the Court of 
Louis or a Ziegfeld Follies, lighted like the stage of 
the Music Hall, and rehearsed to superb precision. 
And as in the great pageants of the Middle Ages, the 
peasantry may sit in the galleries and watch nobility 
enjov itself. And the peasantrv are flattered so to 
do. ' 

The night parade \\hich closes the season is an 
unforgettable spectacle, however curious it may 
seem in the Space Age. One doesn't reason, why? 
He stands on a lacy iron balcony in the French 
Quarter only a step from the door, for he fears that 
this fragile ornament may collapse under the weight 
of humanity pressing toward the railing to catch a 
keep-sake tossed by Rex or a member of his Court, 
and he wants to be able to leap to safety should the 
iron work proxe treacherous. It doesn't, and indoors 
the feast aw aits the passing of the final float. And 
at niichiiglit Mardi Gras is history. However un- 
kempt much of the cit>- may appear, b>' noon of Ash 
Wednesday, Canal Street will be spick and span and 
ready for the next influx of tourists. The celebrants 
of Nhu'di Gras, after Mass in the lo\el\- St. Louis 
cathedral, will drive carefulK North across the 
Causewa\' or East or W^est along the Highway which 
bisects the Town on its way from St. Augustine to 
Los Angeles. 

(Continued on page 33) 



27 



Recent Trends In 



By B. ERNEST SHORE 
Formerly a Professor of Languages at Montclair 



TEACHERS in the United States cannot help but be 
well aware of the many new factors that are 
affecting public education in this country. Since 
World War II a great deal has been lived through 
and worked out in regard to the rapid growth of 
pupil enrollment, building programs, federal and/or 
state aid, equal opportunity, teacher shortages, and 
the struggle of the humanities versus science and 
technology. Statistics indicate a continuation of 
an augmented population increase, and spectacular 
foreign achievements in science are continually giv- 
ing a turn to education here that will last far into 
the foreseeable future. Some problems that have 
resulted are still only partially solved and more will 
be arising, but what has been accomplished for 
American education in the past twenty years is 
greater than in almost the whole preceding century. 
European countries are experiencing the same 
population explosion that is occurring in the United 
States and they are also to varying extents preoc- 
cupied with new emphases in educational programs. 
Some of the less fortunate countries have additional 
complications in a post-war loss of colonies that used 
to siphon off great numbers of people and which 
thus helped to relieve pressure on a strained econo- 
my. Many nationals returned from such areas, add- 



ing further burdens to public services that had been 
often almost totally destroyed by on-the-spot war- 
fare. So far as schools are concerned, buildings had 
been shattered, academic courses had been inter- 
rupted or never begun, teacher training had 
stopped, illiteracy had increased, and regional fric- 
tion had been exacerbated. No country exemplifies 
all this more than Italy. 

New Jersey has a special relationship with Italy. 
Over half a million of the present inhabitants of this 
state were actually born in that country and an unre- 
corded but certainly vastly greater number are of 
Italian descent. Thirty-nine public schools and sev- 
en private schools are teaching the Italian language 
here this year. It is a more accurate reflection of 
general sentiment than courses that are always listed 
in college catalogs because of the Roman Empire, 
the Renaissance, and the triumphs of Italian art, 
literature, and music. Whether it is prompted by 
the warmth of emotion or the coldness of intellect, 
widespread empathy exists in New Jersey for what- 
ever Italy is now doing. Teachers particularly are 
interested in the tremendous Ten Year Plan which 
that country announced in 1958 as a project for the 
complete overhaul of national education. 

To allow time for analvsis, criticism, and discus- 



A PREFABRICATED HIGH SCHOOL IN THE MODERN STYLE IN MILAN. 24 CLASSROOMS; 8 OTHER ROOMS. 



Italian Education 



sion, the implementation of the Plan was postponed 
for over three years so that now, embod\ing some 
features of previous educational procedures not in- 
consistent with the new aims, the Plan is conclud- 
ing its third year of practical operation. Theory has 
taken on concreteness, ideas are related to real life, 
the present educational trend in Italy is becoming 
increasingly clear. What are some of its basic char- 
acteristics? 

The primary aim of education anywhere is to pre- 
vent illiteracy and to eradicate it wherever it may 
already exist. Statistics, or rather the veracity of 
those who resort to their use, has long been open to 
doubt, but in such a comprehensive survey as a na- 
tion comparative figures show at least a tendency 
(and where would insurance companies be without 
such guides?). Americans aware of the heights of 
Italian culture are always surprised to learn that 
barely a centur\- ago 78% of the people of Itla\- could 
not read or write. By 1924 illiteracy had dropped to 
24%, and today it is 4% or two million people in a 
population of slightly more than fifty million. The 
problem at the present time is not only to teach all 
children who reach six years of age (the time at 
which compulsory education in Itlay begins), but to 
train those wlio had no, or verv little, schooling be- 



cause of the war. On top of this is the backlog of 
adult, illiteracy that has always existed in the eco- 
nomically depressed, undeveloped, and remote re- 
gions of south Italy and the coastal islands. In such 
areas it is still over ten times more frequent than in 
the industrially advanced and fertile northern sec- 
tion. 

The institution of "Popular Schools" is the means 
by which this rather irregular category of education 
is attended to. It is one of the aspects of earlier pro- 
cedures that has been found very effective and to 
which the annual budget now allots over four mil- 
lion dollars. These schools are set up in factories, 
barracks, prisons, hospital, or in any buildings that 
can lend themselves to meeting places, and in areas 
where the need is greatest. Teaching emphasis na- 
turally falls on an acquisition of a knowledge of 
reading and writing, but general education and re- 
fresher courses are available to those beyond the 
elementary state. No fees are charged, and some of 
the schools operate in the evening to accommodate 
those employed during the day. In 1961 over half a 
million people enrolled in the basic course and over 
300,000 in tlie other courses. A series of television 
lectures every evening, appropriately entitled "It's 
Never Too Late", brings tlie opportunity' of literacy 



M.\THEM.\TICS LESSON BY A STUDENT TEACHER IN A PROFESSIONAL SCHOOL, FERR.\RA. 




to adults whose stubborn pride prevents them from 
attending such new-fangled and childish things as 
schools. An estimated 58,000 people follow the pro- 
gram, the effects of which are as incalcuable as 
those of our own education television. The Popular 
Schools and their attendant services have brought 
literacy to nearly a hundred thousand illiterates and 
have enabled over 60,000 semi-literates to finish the 
equivalent of primary school. 

The Primary School is the more normal method to 
achieve literacy and the beginnings of an education. 
The War affected primary education more than any 
other phase, no doubt because the buildings were 
the most numerous, the pupils most open to dis- 
placement, and the teachers most likely to be taken 
into military service. In the reconstruction years 
more buildings and teachers had to be provided, but 
the nature of the instruction itself remained sub- 
stantially the same. There is not much that spearates 
the content of elementary education from country to 
country. Children in their earliest stages can learn 
only the basic elements of human culture, flavored 
as these may be by the language and tradition of 
the area in which they occur. The distinctive part of 
Italian education comes when children finish pri- 
mary school, usually at the age of eleven, and still 
have three more years of obligatory education to ful- 
fill. A choice is open to them— to go to an early sec- 
ondary school that stresses a classical education, or 
to some vocational training school that stresses tech- 
nical subjects. Both programs include such topics as 
Italian, history, geography, mathematics, natural 
sciences, foreign languages, physical training, and 
religion, but the vocationally-oriented school reduc- 
es the time spent on them in order to allow for 
lessons on agriculture, industry, and commerce. 
School lasts from the first of October to the end of 
June and consists of four hours of lessons per day, 
six days a week. Extra time may optionally be spent 
on supplementary work. Homework averages about 
two hours a day, and corporal punishment is for- 
bidden. When this early secondary school is fin- 
ished the pupil has usually reached the age of four- 
teen and is no longer obliged to attend a school. It 
has been observed that pupils who select the classi- 
cal education-emphasis tend to continue their 
schooling, but those who choose the vocational-em- 
phasis tend to drop out. The present trend in offi- 
cial thinking is to amalgamate both programs so that 
the child will not be called upon to make a decision 
regarding the type of education he will pursue un- 
til the end of the early secondary school. The extra 
three years will also allow his natural abilities to 
manifest themselves more clearly to his advisers. 



The former examination that qiialified a pupil at the 
end of primary school to enter the early secondary 
school has now been abolished, but a rigorous test 
must be passed to proceed from early secondary 
school to one of the four main kinds of advanced 
secondary schools he may elect. 

Five-year programs are offered by classical lycees 
(the traditional preparatory schools for liberal arts 
courses in universities), the science lycees, and the 
technical institutes. A four-year program is offered 
by institutions that prepare future primary school 
teachers. Obviously the graduates of these advanced 
secondary schools will be eighteen or nineteen years 
of age and will have covered, indeed, a program 
of study that compares favorably with that up to the 
first or second year of an American junior college. 
The present trend is to encourage by all possible 
means the entrance of students into the science and 
technical schools and to restrict the enrollment of the 
classical lycees, in the belief that the needs of Italy 
in a technological era and of her participation in 
the European Common Market will best be served 
by more practical knowledge. The result so far has 
been that the increase in enrollment in technical and 
science schools is ten times greater than that of the 
classical lycee. 

The training and supply of school teachers since 
the War have some unusal features. In the early 
post-war years there were actually 80,000 primary 
school teachers unemployed, because their schools 
had been destroyed and their classes dispersed. 
Once a rebuilding program got under way the situa- 
tion was reversed. Classes reassembled, to be great- 
ly augmented in a few years by the population 
increase. The shortage of primary school teachers 
became so acute that extraordinary emergency meas- 
ures had to be taken to offset it. Ideally, the type of 
primarv' school teacher desired was the graduate of 
the particular advanced secondar\^ school for the 
purpose. But the output of these schools fell far 
short of the demand, so that temporary, part-time, 
basically inadequately qualified help had to be em- 
ployed. The passage of time, plus improved working 
conditions, raised salaries and guaranteed biennial 
increases brought so many candidates, particularly 
girls, into the training schools that now roughly 
25,000 primarv' teaching licenses are granted every 
year, and the market is flooded. 

But the market is not flooded in regard to second- 
ary school teachers. Indeed, many of the more 
suitable primary school teachers are taken on as in- 
structors in the early secondary school, which is be- 
ing hard hit by the population wave. The accent on 
technical and science schools means that this xear, 



30 



for example, 251 times as much money is l)eiiiii 
spent on tliem as belore tlie \\'ai", and tlie student 
enrollment is almost half a million. Teacher-produc- 
tion for them has not been able to keep pace, in fact 
at the moment there is a deficiency of 12,000 such 
teacliers. Since universities are graduating only 6,- 
000 ad\anced secondaiy school teachers a \ear, the 
shortage has every prospect of increasing. The pres- 
ent trend is to remedy the situation, at least partial- 
ly, by two methods: to allow graduates of technical 
schools to proceed to certain courses at universities 
with the object of becoming teachers in their sub- 
ject, and to allow graduates of the primary school 
teacher training institutions to enter education fac- 
ulties at universities, with the same aim. Heretofore 
only graduates of the classical and science lycees 
had the prixilege of university education. Special 
six months courses, with scholarships for financial 
support, ha\e also been established to train teachers 
for technical subjects. 

Certainly technological enrollment is at its high 
point in the advanced secondary school, but the 
pre\ailing attitude to types of courses is also reflect- 
ed by sharply increased enrollments in the science 
and engineering faculties of the universities. Uni- 
versity' buildings were relatively undamaged by the 
War and professorial staffs have doubled since that 
time, the problem is hence not primarily the lack of 
facilities for students so much as a more equitable 
distribution of the students among the 29 universi- 
ties of the countr\-. It happens that the universities 
of Rome, Naples, and Milan (in that order) are at- 
tended by 45% of the 300,000 students, and that 
thirteen universities contain over 86% of the total 
number. As with other phases of education, the 
south and the islands are poorest in universities. 
Three of the nine that are south of Naples have less 
than a thousand students and all three have less than 
35 professors. The latest development is the estab- 
lishment of tlie Uni\ersit\' of Calabria ( the south- 
ernmost pro\ince of the mainland ) w ith various 
faculties distributed through sexeral towns in an 
attempt to make higher education more obvious and 
more accessible. In general, the ratio of student to 
teachers in these depressed areas is more than twice 
that of the north, partly because of the lack of facili- 
ties and partly because even the local youth, when 
trained as teachers, often find more attractive places 
in which to work than their home region. The popu- 
lation drift continues to be away from the south to 
the industries of the north (which, incidentally, 
sponsor technical education courses of their own, 
including English lessons for research purposes) or 
into immigration abroad. 



What is the present attitude toward foreigners 
who want to stud\ for a degree at an Italian Univer- 
sitNT* Nothing could be better. The trend is to make 
foreigners \ery welcome at Italian institutions, 
which are among the oldest and most distinguished 
of Europe. University fees are onl\' a hundred dol- 
lars, the academic year (which must be taken in its 
entirety for credit) begins in early November and 
ends in early June, all faculties except Medicine are 
open on regular terms, and admittance to universi- 
ties is normally granted to those who have finished 
two years of college elsewhere. Non-degree courses 
in all aspects of Italian culture are held for foreign- 
ers at a special universit)' in Perugia, and at the 
University of Florence, as well as purely summer 
courses in eight other universities. Art academies 
and music conservatories charge foreigners no fees. 
The cost of li\ ing is comparatively low in Italy and 
students often get discounts at cultural events. The 
whole country is like a gigantic museum and art 
gallery, inhabited by an effervescent and delightful 
people who burst into song on the slightest occasion. 
The 2,500 foreign students now in Italian uni\ersi- 
ties absorb a great deal of additional culture merely 
from their da\-to-day environment. 

The population increase and the change of educa- 
tional emphasis have naturally meant much new 
building construction, let alone that required as a 
result of war damage. Popular Schools, which are 
hoped to be of comparati\el\' short duration, may 
use make-shift accommodations, but primary and 
secondary schools must ha\e permanent quarters. 
They need also the special facilities for teaching 
science and technolog\\ The present objective is to 
build primary schools wherever they are necessary 
(GO.OOO classrooms are still lacking) and secondary 
schools in all communities over 3,000. This means 
that the depressed South is getting the Tuajor atten- 
tion, though building activity is perpetually going 
on all o\er the country. Interestingly enough, in a 
country famous for its classic and renaissance archi- 
tecture the tendencN' in design toda\' is toward 
buildings in the functional, international, modern 
style. Pre-fabricated materials for schools of man\' 
patterns speed up the construction and a\oid mon- 
otony of appearance. Unixersities too require higliK- 
expensi\e science equipment, which often means the 
construction of specially shaped buildings. The 
State has set aside the equivalent of over 50 million 
dclhus to aid in the expansion of the non-humani- 
ties, and has taken o\er as paid state employees the 
lower echelons of technical and maintenance help 
who were formerly engaged b\- universities on a 
private basis. This reliexes uni\ersit\ budgets of the 



31 



salaries of 7,000 people. Research (presumably sci- 
ence and technology) is to receive almost three bil- 
lion dollars in aid over the next ten years. The fig- 
ures are astronomical, but in its way, Italy also is 
aiming at the stars. 

Like the United States, Italy has gone through 
vast educational changes in the past twenty years. 
Recovering from the War, taking care of the school 
population increase, altering educational programs 
to stress practical subjects, renewing the attack on 
illiteracy, improving the depressed South, construct- 
ing new academic buildings, and giving colossal 
state aid to education are all circumstances common 
to both countries. Not only New Jerseyites, but 
Americans in general have many good reasons for 
empathy with what is now being so courageously 
accomplished in Italy. 



THE PEACE CORPS 

(Continued from page 25) 

endured; they are "inevitable." There are many 
cares in life, but living is too short to waste on wor- 
rying. God will provide. Life is to be enjoyed. 
Work is necessary to provide the essentials, but it is 
not an end in itself. Relaxation, contemplation, and 
contentment are to be enjoyed. Family and friends 
are the sources of happiness. Cooperation, a feeling 
of group harmony, and respect for others are highly 
valued as means of attaining inner peace, social 
order, and happiness. 

This kind of social outlook, deeply embedded in 
centuries of tradition, effects a behavioral pattern 
which is characterized by a slower or easier pace of 
living. To an impressionist, or to an energetic Amer- 
ican, the Filipino is marked by laziness which he be- 
lieves is caused by the warm climate. This is, at 
best, a superficial impression. Time— psychological 
time— is not important, to a very poor Filipino, as a 
measure of getting things done, as much as it is a 
measure of enjoying things that are going on. He 
can find pleasure in work and in relaxation. And 
often, time is valued if it continues or prolongs a 
pleasure that is being experienced in the present. 

Much of this outlook is carried over into the 
cities, where it comes into conflict with the trans- 



planted American business values, such as efficien- 
cy, initiative, individual achievement. 

There is within our own culture a similar basic 
conflict of values and goals in life. David Reisman, 
in his The Lonely Crowd, sees the conflict between 
the "inner-directed" and the "outer-directed" man. 
There are many Americans who do not really be- 
lieve in progress and personal achievement. There 
are many who value cooperativeness over competi- 
tiveness, inner peace over self -achievement, and per- 
haps kindness and social grace over cleverness and 
individuality. As in our own culture, there is room 
enough for both outlooks. Even their inter-relation- 
ship can add a dynamic value to our society. What 
the Philippines does with its "Western" values will 
ultimately affect its own economic development, 
since industrialization will require highly-trained, ef- 
ficient individuals. But no matter how much we are 
politically or culturally "interested" in the Philip- 
pines, we have to believe in and respect their own 
choices. 

As I look back over the two-year experience in 
the Philippines, I can immediately see that I have 
gained a great deal. My actual accomplishments 
were very small, indeed. But I do seem to have a 
great feeling of satisfaction, that, in spite of all my 
mistakes of short-sightedness in dealing with other 
people of different backgrounds, I have gained a 
rich experience in human relations. I also feel con- 
fident that I will be a better teacher as a result of 
this educationally-broadening project. 



WILL S. MONROE 

(Continued from page 25) 



•■ See F. Cordasco, "The 50th Anniversary of Monroe's 
Ci/clopcdia of Education," School ir Society, Vol. 91 (March 
1963), pp. 123-24. Will S. Monroe was not related to Paul 
Monroe, editor of the cyclopedia. 

- The Will S. Monroe Collection of Henry Barnard Manu- 
scripts is deposited at the Washington Square Library of 
New York University. 

^Representative te.xts included: Our Country and Its 
People: an introductory geographic reader for the 4th school 
year. New York, Harper, 1911; Europe and Its People: a geo- 
graphic reader for the 5th school year. New York, H;irper, 
1912. 



32 



CHINESE NEIGHBORS 

(Continued from piif^c 14) 

needs or reassure them that the\' would always be 
their friends and help them whenever possible. 

Most Chinese ha\e happij dispositions?, even in 
distress or need, the\- tr\- to show a eheerful counte- 
nance. Whether in Chinese rural areas or in over- 
populated cities such as Hong Kong, if a stranger 
shows himself friendly, he is sure to receive a smile 
or word of greeting in return. 

Chinese also ha\c a deliglitful sense of Innnor, 
which often comes to the fore in business dealings 
or ordinary conversation. In their polite way of 
getting to the "business in hand," they do not rush 
into it immediately, but sit and drink tea, talking of 
many other subjects. Gradually they lead up to the 
the important business or problem to be discussed. 
Their keen sense of humor is often used to good 
advantage during these leisurely con\ersations, or in 
a business deal. 

The religion of China is a combination of Budd- 
hism, Taoism, and the Confucian Code of Ethics. 
The good qualities of these three religions moulded 
the character of the Chinese people in the past and 
ha\'e been carried over into modern life. Their am- 
bition, industry, perseverance, patience, independ- 
ence, and pride in caring for their own families, as 
well as concern for others in need, are evidences of 
the depth and fineness of their ancient culture and 
religion. 

The Christian Chinese of today are strong in their 
faith and sincereK' concerned for the material and 
spiritual welfare of non-Christians. When a group 
of fort\- escapees arrived in Hong Kong one winter 
and were housed temporariK' in Bamboo Garden 
Christian Community- Centre, the Chinese Christians 
living near the Centre, even though poor and lack- 
ing many necessities themselves, shared their blank- 
ets, clothing, and food with these cold and hungry 
refugees. This is only one example of the many 
little-known acts of Christian charity done by Chin- 
ese Christians whenever and w^herever there is need. 

As is well known, individuals of all nations are 
human beings with fine traits and not-so-fine traits. 
The Chinese have their failings as well as those in 
other lands. Today we live in one world which is 
fast becoming a smaller world; so it is important 
that nations of the West learn to know more about 
people of the East. My hope is that the few im- 
pressions written here ma\' be useful in helping 
others to understand something of the customs and 
culture of Southeast Asian nations and especially 
our Chinese neighbors. 



CONTRASTS TO REMEMBER 

(Continued from pane 27) 

French and Spanish New Orleans may be, but it 
has al\\a\s venerated and celebrated Shakespeare. 
With at least seven colleges and universities within 
the Cit\-, one knew that the lOOth Anniversary of his 
birtli would not pass without proper recognition. 
Dillard chose to produce Tlie Taming of the Shrew 
as its tribute; L.S.U. in New Orleans also chose this 
rollicking comedy. L.S.U. decided on Arena staging; 
Dillard used an adaptation of the Globe stage with a 
big apron jutting into the orchestra and ornamented 
columns to mark the scjuare. 

The director, a M.F.A. from Yale University 
asked me to play Baptista. No Baptista ever had 
lovelier daughters: one, a Creole from tlie City with 
talent to enhance her beauty became a superb, 
credible Katharine; the younger daughter, from 
Houston, Texas, had a slender, graceful figure, a 
lovely face, and a sympathetic, appealing voice, just 
what the role required. The contrast was striking 
and right— for in the ti^ansformation scene at the 
banc^uet each brought off her reversal of character 
in comic fashion. Matinee performances were given 
daily for the Negro high schools of the City and its 
suburbs, and their response was frequently riotous. 
Appreciation of this public service was generously 
acknowledged by the administration of both public 
schools and the University. 

Just off the campus is a city nurser\- where grow 
the trees and shrubs used for replacement of the 
palms and less hardy varieties of trees and shrubs 
w hich cannot survive the short-lived but bitter freez- 
es w hich occasionally blow over from the Texas Pan- 
handle. A duck pond separates the nursery from the 
street, a noisome place infested with rats which feed 
on the eggs and ducklings. It had never been a 
favorite spot. Yet as we passed the pond for the last 
time on a lo\el\' May day on our wa\' home to stay, 
the parting song that came to mind was not Going 
Home but 

"Four ducks on a pond, 
A grass bank be\ond, 
The blue sky of Spring, 
White clouds on the wing. 
What a little, wee thing 
To remember for years. 
To remember for years" 



33 



r*:«. 



THE 
ALUMNI 



ii 







MONTCLAIR STATE COLLEGE SPRING 1966 



F«RUM 

MONTCLAIR STATE COLLEGE / SPRING 1966 



MONTCLAIR STATE COLLEGE 

ALUMNI ASSOCIATION 

Upper Montclair, New Jersey 



MR. MARVIN SHLOFMITZ 


Editor-in-Chief 


MRS. HELEN RENDALL 


Associate 


MR. MORRIS McGEE 


Associate 


MR. LAWRENCE H. CONRAD 


Editorial Consultant 



THE COVER OF THIS ISSUE.-This is from a 35-mm photo- 
graph taken by Professor Conrad in the summer of 1965 in 
South America, and is a Sunday morning scene at the Pisac 
Indian Fair in southern Peru. 



TABLE OF CONTENTS 



EDITORIAL 

All of us who take part in producing this maga- 
zine have agreed that this fifth year of its publica- 
tion would be a suitable time for the many readers 
to meet the Editor. And so, without asking his per- 
mission, we are taking 
this means of introduc- 
ing him. 

Here is Marvin Shlof- 
mitz '49, who has been 
Editor of this magazine 
from the time of its 
founding in the spring 
of 1962. There have 
been five years of growth 
with exceptionally high 
standards, until the mag- 
azine has won a re- 
spect that is accorded 
only to the best among alumni publications. Of 
course Marvin doesn't do the job alone and un- 
aided. The original planning and policy-making that 
defined the scope of the magazine was shared with 
him by Morris G. McGee, '49, who continues an 
active and helpful interest. And your Association 
has given unflagging support by providing a budget; 
by providing an Associate Editor in the very com- 
petent person of Mrs. Helen Kendall; and, since 
1963, by lending to the magazine an Editorial Con- 
sultant of wide publishing experience. 




Civil Rights and the American Negro by John Wesley Lord Page One 

Brothers (a poem) by Eugene Maleska Page Four 

Memories of Ethel F. Littlefield by Mathilda Savage Knecht Page Five 

The College Heights Story by Morris McGee Page Seven 

New Jersey's Crisis in Public Higher Education by Frank McGuire Page Nine 

Home Bodies (a poem) by Helen Fountain Page Eleven 

The New Liberal Arts Program at MSC by Allan Morehead Page Twelve 

To Ralph Kirkpatrick (a poem) by Helen Fountain Page Fourteen 

Bacchante (a poem) by Anna Paul Page Fourteen 

Bird Through Plate Glass Darkly (a short story) by Harold Friedlander Page Fifteen 

It Is A Spider (a poem) by Susan Flannelly Page Eighteen 

Opportunities for Learning by Sid Salt Page Nineteen 

People of the Wind (a poem) by Katherine Stacy Page Twenty-Four 

Illustrations by Harold Stacy 

This Is My Home (a poem) by Ann Wolfert Page Twenty-Six 

The Cooperating Teacher by Rose Stahnten Page Twent\'-Seven 

Dreamer Born (a poem) by George Harriston Page Twenty-Eight 

Mirage (a poem) by Ruth Ivers Page Twenty-Eight 

Fire Hydrants (a poem) by Jerrold Jeronen Page Twenty-Nine 

The Requisites of General Learning by Lawrence H. Conrad Page Thirty 

The Three Gene Maleskas by William Caldwell Page Thirty-Three 





l-«-*1 





T DAY AT SELMA, ALABAMA 



THE START OF THE MARCH 



(World Wide Photo: 



At King's Right is Methodist Bishop John Wesley Lord. In front of King is Rev. Andrew Young. Marching with King, 
from Left: James Farmer, Bishop Lord, Martin Luther King, Jr., and James Forman. Behind King is the Rev. Ralph 

Abernathy. 



CIVIL RIGHTS AND THE AMERICAN NEGRO 



By JOHN WESLEY LORD, '22 

Bishop of Methodist Chiirch 
The Washington Area 



It all began in the heat. For the writer of this pa- 
per, and his involvement in racial struggles and con- 
flicts, it all began in the heat of Cambridge and 
Princess Anne, of Sclma and Syracuse. This was the 
heat of resentment and frustration in the heart of 
the American Negro due to the indifference of his 
fellow citizens to the suffering and violence that he 
was forced to endure in his efforts to redress griev- 
ance. The right that \\ as guaranteed him in the Bill 
of Rights was denied him in the streets. He found 
it hard to understand the lack of concern in the 



hearts of his fellow men. Not suffering, but indiffer- 
ence to suffering on the part of the non-suffering, 
provides the explosive factor in history. It was this 
indifference, I believe, that touched off the fuse 
leading to violence and explosion. 

A society that denies all but the most menial of 
jobs to its minority race members is wasting its most 
precious resources— its people. A society that has de- 
nied educational and employment opportunities to 
an entire segment of its population, should not be 
surprised if that segment shows up heavily in its 



jails and on its welfare rolls. Such a society should 
strive for fair employment practices in every section 
of the entire economy, with special efforts and in- 
vestments in job retraining, apprentice training, 
and special educational aid. 

Despite the fact that on June 19, 1964, the Senate 
passed the Civil Rights Act that aimed to assure all . 
citizens, regardless of race, color, religion, or na- 
tional origin, their equal rights in voting, public 
accommodations, public facilities, school desegre- 
gation, employment, federal financial assistance, and 
certain court procedures, we all know that America 
faces a dilemma in her treatment of the Negro 
citizen. On one hand, we hold high before the 
world the American ideal of freedom and democ- 
racy: concern for the individual as a person. At the 
same time, we support local laws and traditions that 
deny and delay the fulfillment of the ideal. This is 
the American dilemma. 

World famous scientist and nobel Prize winner, 
Arthur Compton, says that if man is to live success- 
fully in the new world that science is shaping, he 
will need to love his neighbor with the kind of 
love that inspires one to help his neighbor live. Here 
is the new and needed dimension, quite beyond the 
law. We must love our neighbor with the kind of 
love that inspires us to help our neighbor live. 

Legislation is necessary and, such as we have had, 
is good; but the problem is not at heart a legal 
problem or a political problem, but a moral and 
spiritual problem. The primary purpose of legis- 
lation is not to make bad people good, though it 
often helps. The primary purpose of legislation is to 
make innocent people safe. I once heard Martin 
Luther King say, that while the law could not make 
people good, it could keep them from being lynched. 
We need law to make innocent people safe; we 
need love to fulfill the intention of the law. 

A young Negro veteran in Jackson Parish, Loui- 
siana, was rejected on his first attempt to register 
to vote because the registrar found an error on his 
application card. He himself was unable to find it 
after checking and rechecking, and when he got up 
to leave, he inquired, "Ma'am, would you do one 
thing for me?" 

"What is that?" 

"Will you tell me the mistake I made?" 

"Oh, sure. You underlined 'Mr.' when you should 
have circled it." 

How often immaterial errors have been used to 
disqualify Negro voters. 

At long last, the religious community has become 



deeply involved in the problem of civil rights and 
is now willing to act without counting the cost. This 
is for good reason. The political concepts of free- 
dom and human dignity grow out of our Judeo- 
Christian tradition and teaching. Once we admit 
this, the church and the religious forces of any com- 
munity have a prime role to play. Our first great 
victory came in Cambridge, when over the radio 
the combined faith groups of the community dared 
to say that the problem at heart was both moral 
and spiritual. 

By Biblical and theological precept, by the law 
of the church and now by the law of the land, the 
matter is clear. Indeed, in the so-called Bible belt, 
we have a Selma and a Birmingham and a Craw- 
fordville. Why? Why, in my boyhood, were mem- 
bers of my family denied a room in the Northfield 
Inn and required to stay in the cottage at the gate 
because we had a lovely Negro teacher in our party? 
This pattern was repeated summer after summer. 
This was long before the day of demonstration and 
concerted action on the part of the Negro. We wall 
not find the solution to the problem unless and 
until we can understand the root from which the 
evil stems. And I think that root is nurtured in fear, 
fear that if the Negro ever achieves the rights to 
which he is entitled, he will at the same time achieve 
the political and economic power that will enable 
him to move into the main stream of American 
life. Thus he becomes a threat to the power structure 
of the community. 

In the book "Crisis in Black and White" by C. E. 
Silberman, the author contends that if all the dis- 
criminatory practices were to stop tomorrow, the 
Negro's position in American society would be fun- 
damentally unchanged. He believes that 250 years 
of slavery followed by 150 years of brutal humiUa- 
tion at the hands of white America have left too 
many Negroes unable or unwilling to compete in a 
white man's world. The problem, therefore, for white 
and black Americans alike, is to find ways to restore 
to the Negro the dignity, the initiative, and the am- 
bition of which his countrymen. Northerners as well 
as Southerners, have traditionally deprived him. To 
do this, Mr. Silberman argues, requires more than a 
Civil Rights Bill, and more, too, than better educa- 
tion or better housing or better jobs. For better 
schools, jobs, houses— in short, better lives in our 
society— belong only to those who have the political 
and economic power to get and keep them. Unless 
Negroes achieve this power Mr. Silberman believes, 
they will be unable to move into the main stream 



2 




BISHOP LORD 

of American life. And there are too many Americans 
who are determined that the Negro shall not be 
given a place in the power structure of the com- 
munity. He will be employed, but not in places 
where policy decisions are made and enforced. 

Or let us see this truth from the standpoint of the 
sociologist. He claims that prejudice roots in the 
possibilit\- of vertical mobility'. This vertical mobili- 
ty is one of the striking aspects of society in the 
United States. We make our boast in the equal rights 
and equal opportunities for all men regardless of 
the accident of birth. The poorest and least privi- 
leged often go to the top in our society and are 
encouraged to do so. This is the Horatio Alger 
myth. True for some, but not for all; but it is true, 
nonetheless, for the great majority in this country. 
By effort and good opportimities, families low in 
the social scale may rise and displace the previous 
aristocracy. This is part of the American dream. 

While society will always need its elite, it will not 
be the same elite, in this country. It is apt to be in 
Britain, Here, there is a circulation of the elite. For 
those going up the scale, it is good, but for those 
going down, it is a cause for dismay and conster- 
nation. When one has reached a secure and satis- 
factory position in the social order, one becomes a 



champion for the rights of others. For the great 
majority, however, who are not secure, but are cir- 
culating up or down the scale, this very mobility 
that we say is the hallmark of our democracy, be- 
comes a deep and virile reason for prejudice and 
conflict. We do not like to be displaced b\' an- 
other, and this is as true on a college campus, or 
in an ecclesiastical organization, as it is in industry 
and politics. 

In a study of prejudice, it was found that it is not 
a person's present status in society that is import- 
ant. It is rather the shifting of his status upward 
or dowTiward that regulates his prejudice. If he is 
on the way up, his prejudice is lessened. If he is 
being displaced by another, his prejudice increases. 
In Africa, there was a slogan which said, 'The low- 
est Afrikaaner must be one step higher than the 
highest African." I was asked the question regarding 
the appointment of a Negro District Superintend- 
ent, "Will he be the number one man in the 
church?" This was the objection, not his color. This 
fact may help you to understand the prejudice you 
find about you. Apply this test. 

It is not strange that the dynamic mobility' in this 
country, which in the past has been our glory, and 
which now for the first time appears to be operative 
for minority' groups, should produce intense preju- 
dice and conflict among all our people, white and 
Negro alike. The fear of Negroes rising to places of 
importance in government, in industry, coupled with 
the knowledge that at long last they can rise, is 
certainly a major cause of prejudice and preferen- 
tial thinking in the United States. 

Underlying the American faith in freedom is the 
behef that man can still make choices along the road 
of history and tliat not all of life is a matter of 
economic or biological determinism. So long as men 
are left free to struggle, the future is secure. The 
First Amendment assumes that there will be struggle 
but that men are capable of following the weight 
of argument to rational conclusions. "Congress shall 
make no law . . . abridging the freedom of speech, 
or of the press, or the right of people to peaceably 
assemble, and to petition the government for a red- 
ress of grievances." 

There will always be minority groups seeking 
change and redress of grievance. Indeed, I believe 
that the more civilized we become, the more min- 
orities we are likely to have. The First Amendment 
recognizes the function of the catahsts in our so- 
ciety— those who bring about the changes. At the 
same time, it protects us against those who would 



impose their orthodoxies by methods of dictatorship. 
It is obvious that tolerance is not tolerance unless 
it tolerates disagreement, and free speech is mean- 
ingless unless it applies to unpopular minorities and 
guarantees their right to be heard. 

To deny the Negro his civil rights, is to place the 
rights of all Americans in jeopardy. We must be 
more concerned with the presence of justice than 
with the absence of tension. To violate the dignity 
of a single individual is to do violence to God him- 
self. The struggle involves not alone the rights of 
minority groups but of all citizens in the Republic. 
This is the black man's struggle and the white man's 
struggle equally. We have the form of government 
in which change can and does take place in order- 
ly fashion and by law. We must see to it that the 
laws on our statute books conform in essence with 
the finest and highest religious principles that our 
common faiths enshrine. 

What is tlie outlook for the future of the struggle? 
My brother, a medical doctor, speaks of compensa- 
tory diseases. One disease holds another disease in 
check. When you wipe out one, another breaks out 
to take its place. When we solve our present problem 
of human relations, we can expect a whole new set 
of problems that we will call problems of unity. It 
is sometimes more difficult to live together than 
apart, and the most serious conflicts we know any- 



thing about often arise within one's own family and 
among one's own relatives. However, I like to recall 
the words of Liston Pope, who \vrote: 

"There is no support from history or from scru- 
tiny of human nature that all social problems 
will ultimately be solved, in the sense that a so- 
ciety without problems will emerge. But there 
are adequate grounds for the belief that particu- 
lar social problems can be solved once and for 
all. Society is a fluid, ever-changing realm; new 
problems generally resemble former ones, but they 
are never quite the same. To lose heart about an 
immediate problem is defeatist; to suppose that it 
will have no successor is fatuous." 
We will pass from dilemma to decision. Time and 
God are on our side. Men know better than they 
do, and men can change. There is a moral uneasi- 
ness in the heart of the person who knows that he 
is violating the American Creed requiring fairness 
and justice to all. Someone has said that it is easier 
to smash an atom than a prejudice, and yet it is 
being demonstrated every day that mature men are 
able to handle resentments and all manner of hos- 
tilities in tlie form of racial bogies and traditional 
scapegoats, and see them for what they are, and 
their fellow human beings for what they are. These 
are the truly elite in human society who become the 
great interpreters of mankind. 



BROTHERS 

They walked, the white man and the black, 

hi union deep and subtle 

That to the questions at their back 

Was strong enough rebuttal. 

They walked, while small men stood aghast 
And shook their heads in sorrow- 
Not knoiving that before them passed 
The promise of tomorrow. 



Eugene T. Maleska, '37 



MEMORIES OF ETHEL F. LITTLEFIELD 
'. . . And gladly would she learn and gladly teach. 



By MATHILDA SAVAGE KNECHT, '35 

Assistant Professor of Languages 



One of the best parties ever held at Montclair 
State College was the one given to Ethel Littlcfield 
when she retired in the spring of 1948. Warmed by 
the affection of students and facult\-, Miss Little- 
field danced and laughed and let herself be kissed 
and talked of it for months afterward. 

This was t\vent}'-one years after Ethel Little- 
field's arrival on the Montclair campus. In 1927, 
when the change from Normal School to College 
took place, President Harr\- Sprague persuaded her 
to come down from Middlebury College where she 
was the director of the prestigious French Chateau, 
to head the new Foreign Language department. 
She had had twent)--four years of teaching and had 
proved her devotion to her chosen profession and 
her love of study. 

She was slight and prett>' in 1927 and quick to 
smile her disarmingly girlish smile when spoken to. 
She had energy and enthusiasm that spilled over to 
all her classes. How many thousands of us, in 
Foundations of Language, were mo\ed and e.xcited 
to learn of the vigorous march of the Indo-Euro- 
peans across Europe, and sat amazed to hear how 
Indo-European '"p" regularly turns to "f" in the 
Germanic languages! Her Latin students still love 
their Horace because of her and gratefully ac- 
knowledge the feeling for poetry she awakened in 
them. Who of us can read or hear "the many- 
sounding sea" without seeing again Ethel Little- 
field? 

She knew at this time only four languages. Her 
Greek and Latin were polished; her French ex- 
cellent. Her English, as we remember, was a delight, 
adapting to all situations gracefully and elegantl)', 
following her moods from archness to wit to com- 
monsensical obscrsations, and always spiced, in 
whatever mood, by a Gallicism or a Classicism. Usu- 
ally elaborated, too, by a gratuitous bit of philology. 
"My guardian angel is a philologist," she would 
say. 



The new language department ofTered only French 
and Latin in 1927. Students were few, but the air 
was charged with expectancy. There were great 
plans taking shape. 

President Sprague moved quickly to expand the 
foreign language curricula. In 1928, Margaret Holz 
came to teach German. In 1929, Walter Freeman, 
Germaine Poreau Cressey, and Teresa De Escoriaza 
joined the Department to increase the offerings in 
French and Latin and to introduce Spanish. Majors 
in four foreign languages then became available. 

In an attempt to enrich the Department's program 
still further. Dr. Sprague discussed witli Miss Little- 
field the possibility of her doing research on the 
values of foreign language study. Both felt that 
there is more to be had from an acquaintance with 
foreign languages than skill in speaking and read- 
ing; that tlie study of language— not just of languages 
—should be part of the course of all educated people. 

Miss Littlefield became fascinated as she pur- 
sued her research problem, encouraged by the pro- 
fessors with whom she was doing graduate work at 
Columbia Universit\'. And there took shape, little 
by little, the plan for a new course in General Edu- 
cation, that has been, since its institution in 1929, an 
unusual and valuable part of the College curriculum: 
Foundations of Language. 

The course, at tliat time, was a thoroughly un- 
usual one, in that it focused on language— its growth 
and development, its function in the social group, 
its value to the indi\idual— in a period when the 
science of linguistics was still considered esoteric 
and philology was thought to be little but roots 
and stems, with nar>' a fruit or flower. This creation 
of Ethel Littlefield's has been widely praised and 
still receives encomiums from \isiting committees, 
who are inxariably surprised and delighted to find 
that the discipline of linguistics is represented in 
the list of General Education courses required of all 
students. 



After the excitement of planning the new pro- 
gram at Montclair State came years of continued 
study, during which Ethel Littlefield became pro- 
ficient in Sanskrit and in many modern languages. 
She was able to say in her last years that she had 
a working knowledge of eighteen of the world's lan- 
guages. Russian was the eighteenth. She studied it 
at Montclair after she had reached the age of 
eighty, coming to the campus faithfully for two 
years. 

There was literally no end to her efforts. Year 
after year, she journeyed to Columbia for evening 
classes, making her way home to the dark and lone- 
ly station at Little Falls late at night. She amassed 
one hundred and twenty graduate credits beyond 
her Master's degree. 

During all of this time,— indeed, during almost all 
of her entire lifetime,— she cared for an invalid 
father and a handicapped sister, welcoming her re- 
sponsibilities and never complaining. 

The years were rich and full. Her teaching and 
graduate work brought her great satisfaction and 
there were good times after school. She skated in 
the winter and wished that New Jersey had snow- 
shoeing weather! She went to student dances, and 
danced tirelessly until the party was over. For 
years, on the Friday after Thanksgiving, she hiked 
the fifteen miles around the Wanaque Reservoir 
with the good friends she made in her classes. 
Jokes and puns and any current nonsense delighted 
her. Some of the Latin majors can't ever forget 
"Shady Doings in Hades", a "musical", complete 
with toga, sandal, and laurel wreath. Ethel rehearsed 
with the chorus line, stepping gracefully across the 
stage of College High Auditorium, adding to the fun. 

She dreaded to retire, but resigned herself with 
good grace "to the Powers that be" and went off 
to teach for two years at Fairleigh Dickinson. But 
Montclair College remained home to her. She felt 
best and was happiest when on its campus, in its 
rooms, and she grieved each September when the 
rest of us went back to school. She insisted, until 
she was eighty, that she was quite able to teach 
and indeed she never stopped altogether. Youngsters 
in Great Notch worked with her in Latin, French, 
and Spanish, as did candidates for Ph.D's. To the 
end, the skills she had acquired as a teacher were 
well used. 

There is no part of her story that one can tell 
without being impressed by the difficulties she en- 
countered. But since these were largely physical 
diflBculties that did not impinge on her intellectual 




ETHEL F. LITTLEFIELD 

Attends her Sixtieth Alumni Reunion 
at Tufts College in 1963 

life she seemed almost not to notice. 

She lived at Tufts College in an unheated 
room, bringing from home each Monday morn- 
ing enough food to last through Thursday and 
going hungry on Friday until she was able to 
get back to South Braintree. 

(Continued on Page Thirty-four) 






A Chapter of Moutclair'^s History 



Tlie Village of College Heights, on the Montclair Campus, circa 1948 



THE COLLEGE HEIGHTS STORY 



By MORRIS G. McGEE, '49 



The problem is where to start. There are a good 
many akimni of Montclair who never heard of it. 
On the other hand, there are a good many who were 
intimately involved with every aspect of it: who 
started their college careers there; who started their 
married life there; who launched their children into 
school and themselves into the educational world— 
from there. ... So let us commence with the 
bird's-eye view. 

Once upon a time— from 1947 imtil 1954— there 
was an actual \illage, a whole village, located on 
the Montclair campus. .\t its largest, the population 
numbered 180 souls; but with people moving out, 
and people mo\ing in, there were man\', many 
more souls than that whose legal residence was the 
Montclair campus. Fort>"-one married couples, with 
tlieir children, plus 70 or more unattached men, 
made up the count for the census-taker. They called 
their communit\- "College Heights," though it never 
had a corporate name. It was located on the "up- 
per campus," on land where you can now find Life 



Hall, the Music Building, Mallory Hall and Finley 
Hall, and Webster Hall and Stone Hall. The build- 
ings were all war surplus, or, as the fellows said, 
"reejects." Dwelling units for the married couples 
housed two families each, and nobody ever bothered 
to name them after the fashion of French villas. The 
housing for the bachelor boys consisted of three 
dormitories that seemed so little like home that the 
boys gave them appropriate names: The large one 
was Robert Hall, because of course it wasn't fancy, 
and e\er)thing was just "plain pipe racks." So the 
next larger one became Alka Hall, though no one 
could possibly guess why. And the last one, of 
course, was named Dat's Hall. Residents had to 
qualify as war \eterans in order to merit the privi- 
lege of calling one of these places home. 

The town of College Heights was located in Clif- 
ton or Little Falls or Upper Montclair, depending 
on your own taste; and those worthy communities 
divided up among themselves the garbage collec- 



tion, the police protection, and the fire-fighting when 
needed. But the community itself had to keep the 
road clear of snow in the winter. Fall and spring 
were another matter— especially spring. The land 
was a combined mud puddle and dust bowl. One 
resident, telling how deep the mud was, pronounced 
it "incredible," and then added, "in fact, I don't 
believe it myself." But it is a fact that the stand- 
ard greeting to visitors was, "Take off your shoes 
and come in." 

The housing units were arranged as a quadrangle, 
and much too close together; and the partitions be- 
tween families in the same unit were so thin that 
it was as easy to keep track of the neighbors' chil- 
dren as your own. When a wife said, "Keep the 
baby quiet, I've got a Krauss test tomorrow," the 
husband might answer, "That's not our baby; that's 
the one three units away." And surely if voices could 
find their way through the flimsy walls, so could 
the weather. Rain splashed in; the wind went 
whirling through; and the historic snowfall of Dec. 
9, 1947, made of the whole community an Eskimo 
village of igloos, each with a car no bigger than 
a dog-sled parked outside the door. 

Nobody had it very fancy, though it must be said 
for the wives that their ingenuity made a brave 
show, and the interiors were often gay with color 
and even decked with works of art. They called it 
"home-made art" and said, "If we had money to buy 
paintings, would we be living here?" At the out- 
set, there were no doors for any of the bathrooms, 





The Dec. 9, 1947 Snowstorm made of the whole Community an Eskimo Vil- 
lage of Igloos, each with a Car no Bigger than a Dog-Sled Parked Outside 
the Door. . . . 



MORRIS G. McGEE, '49 

so singing in the shower became obligatory, even 
at the risk of drowning. It seems the doors for the 
bathrooms were sent to the wrong place, and it was 
literally months before they were located and re- 
routed to where they belonged. Meantime, guests in 
these homes, noting the al fresco sanitary arrange- 
ments, never stayed long at a single visit. 

Testimony taken today from these sam.e residents, 
simply glows with pride and with the joy of recol- 
lection. They remember how wonderful life was, up 
there on the hill. Why, such close living was a 
whole course in sociology! Every problem of com- 
munal life was there or was just on the way. It 
provided a "microcosm of suburbia" from which the 
residents moved out— most of them— to the real sub- 
urbia, where they have been living ever since. And 
they found themselves fully adapted to what lay just 
ahead. College Heights wasn't just a vdllage; it was 
a syndrome. Some former residents refer to their 
life there as "the circus." And they often speak- 
even with moist eyes— of the "play-house" where they 
learned about life and found some of its best values. 

The so-called "space-heaters" that kept all the 
units a mite above freezing, were always blowing 
up, or belching black smoke, or quitting altogether. 
(Continued on Page Twenty-nine) 



New Jersey's Crisis in Public Higher Education 



by 

FRANK G. McGUIRE, '50 

Associate of William G. Hetherington & Co., 

public relations counsel 

to the 

Citizens Committee for Higher Education in N. J. 



The American Dream always has pursued knowl- 
edge and happiness with the same grim determi- 
nation. Long before the do-it-yourself era, Alexis de 
Tocqueville noted a passion for instruction among 
citizens of the young Republic and set down this 
observation in Democracy in America: 

"They (the Americans) have all a lively faith in 
the perfectibility of man; they judge that the diffu- 
sion of knowledge must necessarily be advantageous 
and the consequences of ignorance fatal." 

Abhorrance of ignorance denoted a rupture with 
the Old World traditions of the United States; it 
persists, albeit in diminishing form, as a notable dif- 
ference between the European and American ele- 
ments of Western civilization. 

Aspirations toward higher learning particularly 
indicate this notable difference. In the United States, 
it is assumed that anyone may go to college. Na- 
turally, there exist the criteria of preparation, moti- 
vation, and ability. But a common attitude holds that 
the way to higher education is an open road. The 
European appreciation of college-level training de- 
veloped within a social order infinitely more con- 
scious of class distinctions. 

Broadly viewed, the tvvo traditions have (a) pre- 
sumed universal higher education and (b) found 
universal higher education presumptuous. 

New Jersey has witnessed the full evolution of 
the American tradition. It therefore seems curious 
to comment upon tlie state's persistent failure to 
provide adequate facihties for pubUc higher educa- 
tion. 

Consider this paradox: New Jersey ranks seventh 
in the nation in per capita income and forty-eighth 
among the states in per capita aid to public higher 
education. 

The obvious conclusion— that New Jersey has httle 
regard for education— is wholl\- false. To wit: ex- 
penditures per pupil in elementary and secondary 
schools consistently place New Jersey among the 



first five states. 

The answer to this seeming riddle lies partly in 
the state tax structure. New Jersey has, for many 
years, been one of the few states in the country to 
operate without a broad-base revenue. Naturally, 
this has meant postponing the development of many 




Frank McGuire 

state-wide facilities and ser\ices, public higher edu- 
cation among them. New Jersey's tax structure also 
has forced the burden of support for local schools 



(elementary and secondary) upon the residential 
property owner. That burden, as any homeowner 
well realizes, has become virtually intolerable in 
recent years. 

Public apathy has been as much at fault as lack 
of public funds. Actually, the latter is a direct re- 
flection of civic indifference. The explanation here is ' 
historical. New Jersey is located in the northeast 
quadrant of the country, the traditional intellectual, 
commercial and cultural corner of the nation. 

Small in size and wedged between the giants of 
New York and Pennsylvania, New Jersey has com- 
pensated with a vicarious participation in the ac- 
complishments of its great neighbors but has hardly 
attempted to compete directly. 

Competition in the area of public higher education 
was also unnecessary, until recent years. New Jersey 
could, and did, export much of its college-going 
youth to neighboring states. Freed of the expense 
of educating many of its young people, New Jersey 
could tolerantly accept the sobriquet of the "Cuckoo 
State," an illusion to the bird that casually lays 
its eggs in neighboring nests to be cared for by 
others. 

New Jersey's evasion of a growing problem con- 
tinued through the post-World War II era, vir- 
tually until the present. The following questions and 
others like them, however, have become too per- 
sistent to ignore: 

• Why are more than 50% of New Jersey's col- 
lege-enrolled students attending institutions outside 
the state? 

• Why must Rutgers, The State University, and 
the six state colleges, reject the admission applica- 



tions of 10,000 qualified sons and daughters of 
New Jersey taxpayers? 

• Why, when the state anticipates an increase of 
100,000 college applicants in the next ten years, is 
there no master plan for higher education in New 
Jersey? 

An examination of present figures shows that 
there are 112,500 New Jersey students currently 
enrolled in colleges and vmiversities. More than half, 
62,000, are attending out-of-state institutions. A re- 
cent comparison of in-state and out-state college 
populations is shown in the accompanying graph. 
New Jersey ranks a poor first. 

Growing enrollment pressures on the educational 
facilities of other states will limit their ability to 
continue to educate New Jersey residents. 

Also, it is certain tliat New Jersey will become 
less attractive for industrial and commercial invest- 
ment in the continued absence of a realistic solu- 
tion to the problems of public higher education. 

New Jersey's inability, or unwillingness, to pro- 
vide the necessary services in higher education is 
even now resulting in a steady drain on one of the 
state's prime resources— the social, cultural, and com- 
mercial contributions of the college-trained citizen. 

Concern about public higher education in the 
state has triggered the organization of several groups 
interested in helping solve New Jersey's problems 
in this vital area. One of these units is the Citizens 
Committee for Higher Education in New Jersey, a 
non-partisan cadre of activists headed by Princeton 
University President Robert F. Coheen. 

The Citizens Committee is a representative cross 
section of the New Jersey community— labor, man- 
agement, educators, clergymen, citizens. The group 



Index 
tx!^ Out-of-State 
I I In-State 



100- 
90- 
80- 
70- 
60- 
50- 
40- 
30- 
20- 
10- 
0- 



N.J. 



55 
45 




111. 



N.Y. Mass. Pa. Fla. 



32 
68 



30 
70 



29 
71 



Ohio Ind. Mich. Cal. 



^ 



27 
73 



26 

74 



25 
75 



20 
80 



18 
so 



12 



92 



10 



has published "A Call to Action," a program of 22 
basic proposals to improve the quality and quantity 
of public higher education in the state. The study 
projects the state's needs to 1975. 

"A Call to Action" was issued following inten- 
sive re\iew of pre\ious studies, consultations with 
officials of other states, surveys, and cooperative ef- 
fort with the New Jersey State Department of 
Education. It is a current, comprehensive and re- 
alistic statement on the subject of higher education 
in New Jersey. 

"A Call to Action" urges the expansion of public 
higher education facilities to accommodate a stu- 
dent enrollment of at least 134,000 full-time under- 
graduate students by 1975. (Current enrollment— 
32,000) Completion of this program would, among 
other benefits, reverse the out-of-state trend and re- 
tain a majorit)' of New Jersey's college-going popu- 
lation within the state's higher education system. 
These aims are shown in the following graph : 



The proposals assume the possible need of an 
additional engineering college and call for the 
establishment of new state colleges. 

A ten-year capital fund outlay of $427 million 
would be required to help finance the proposals 
of the Citizens Committee. This simi includes an 
immediate requirement of -$55 to $60 million from 
1967 to 1972. This budget would bring the program 
to completion by the 1975 target date. 

The Citizens Committee proposals also urge: 
examination and reorganization of the state's 
planning and administration of higher education to 
achieve greater flexibility, appointment of a faculty 
salary review board, creation of a dormitor)' and 
building authorit>', and institution of a new college 
incentive scholarship program. 

An obvious question to all this is: "Can New 
Jersey afford it?" The answer, just as obvious, is 
that New Jersey can hardly do otherwise. The 



1965 

Rutgers, the State University 11,900 

Six State Colleges 16,800 

Two or More New State Colleges 

Newark College of Engineering 2,400 

Public Junior Colleges 1,000 

TOTAL 32,000(2' 

(1) This is a total estimate of engineering facilities required. Another engineering coll 
be required in the southern part of \ev\- Jersey perhaps as an extension of either 
College of Engineering or Rutgers College of Engineering. 

(2) Rounded to nearest 500. 



1970 



1975 



22,250 


32,900 


33,250 


54,000 


3,000 


8,000 


4,500 


6,600(1) 


11,000 


33,000 


74,000 


134,500 


lege may 
Newark 





The 1975 goals of "A Call to Action" recommend 
enlargement of Rutgers, The State University, to a 
total capacit), graduate and undergraduate, of 
40,600 students; Newark College of Engineering 
to 7,000; the state colleges to 62,000; and the com- 
munity colleges to between 30-40.000. 



choice is simple: either the state makes a practical 
investment in the educational future of its youth, 
or it continues a drift toward mediocrity that will 
exact a crippling toll of New Jersey's intellectual, 
commercial, and civic vitalitv. 



HOME BODIES 
( a lyrette ) 



Turtles 
pay no rent 
never sliell out 
for mortgage or tax; 
yet dwell like men 
with homes on 
their backs. 



Helen Van Alstyne Fountain '27 



11 



By DR. ALLAN MOREHEAD, '34 
Dean of the College 

Viable educational institutions change in response 
to the demands placed on them by the society they 
serve. Montclair State Normal School, founded in 
1808 for the preparation of elementary school 
teachers, became the Montclair State Teachers Col- 
lege in 1927, and commenced the education of 
teachers for the public secondary schools of the 
State. In 1958, the name of the institution was 
changed to Montclair State College, but the institu- 
tion remained single-purpose. 

Next September, a new chapter in the develop- 
ment of Montclair State College will open. At that 
time, Montclair will enroll its first non-teacher edu- 
cation students in liberal arts programs. Announce- 
ment of this addition to Montclair State College's 
mission was made by the Commissioner of Educa- 
tion in December of 1965. 

A Resource Committee on Liberal Arts was ap- 
pointed immediately by the Chairman of the Curri- 




Dean Morehead 



The New Liberal Arts Program 



culum Committee in consultation with the Dean of 
the College. Committee members were chosen from 
among those on the faculty who had some consider- 
able acquaintanceship with liberal arts programs. 
The members are as follows : 

Professor Paul C. Chfford (Columbia), 

Professor and Chairman of the Mathematics 
Department, Chairman 

Mr. Karl R. Moll (Westminster), 
Assistant Professor of Spe&h, Secretary. 

Dr. Richard N. Barker (Rochester), 
Associate Professor of Social Studies. 

Dr. Joseph F. Becker (Harvard), 
Associate Professor of Chemistnj. 

Dr. Harold C. Bohn (Hamilton), , 

Professor and Chairman of the English Dept. 

Dr. Paul A. Gaeng (Zurich), 

Assistant Professor of Foreign Languages. 

Professor James P. Pettegrove (Bowdoin) 
Professor of English. 

Dr. William L. Williamson (Wisconsin), 
Professor and Head Librarian 



Dr. Thomas H. Richardson, 
President, Ex-Officio. 

Dr. Allan Morehead, 
Dean of the College, Ex-Officio. 

Mr. Walter E. Kops, 
Chairman, Social Studies Department, and Chair- 
man, College Curriculum Committee, Ex-Officio. 

It was contemplated that this Committee would 
serve for some considerable time, but its first area 
of concern was that of formulating general policies 
concerning the liberal arts programs and suggesting 
distribution patterns and course requirements to im- 
plement policies and patterns. 

Structvirally, this Committee was established as an 
advisory committee to Montclair's Curriculum Com- 
mittee. It was anticipated that the Resource Com- 
mittee would report to its parent body, the Curri- 
culum Committee, and that the Curriculum Com- 
mittee Chairman would then report recommenda- 
tions to the Administrative Council, the Faculty, 
the Dean of the College, and the President. This 
procedure was followed. 

To date, this Committee has held nine meetings, 
each one three to four hours in duration. It has al- 
ready proved to be one of the most productive 



12 



faculty groups which has ever served this college. 
Despite Conant's caution that presently "liberal edu- 
cation" as an idea that describes a consistent and 
generally accepted pattern of study in higher edu- 
cation circles in this country is a myth,* the Com- 
mittee went to work with dedication and enthusiasm 
to develop a program for liberal arts students. Be- 
cause of the limitations of time available for plan- 
ning and administrative implementation, the Com- 
mittee early decided that the majors which would 
be available to this first group of liberal arts stu- 
dents would be: Biology, Chemistry, English, French, 
History, Mathematics, Spanish, and Speech and 
Theater Arts. It was contemplated that other majors 
would be added from time to time in the future. 

As early as its second meeting, the Committee con- 
sidered patterns of major area requirements. It was 
decided that the major departments which would 
enroll liberal arts students would be asked to de- 
velop programs which envisioned requirements of 
from 32 to 35 credit hours of which not more than 
two-thirds were to be specified courses; the rest of 



dent would be required to demonstrate proficiency 
in a foreign language either by means of an evalua- 
tion process or course work in the college. His pro- 
ficiency should be that usually attained through two 
years of college work in the foreign language, cover- 
ing the beginning and the intermediate levels. 

It was further decided that the distribution or gen- 
eral education requirements for the liberal arts stu- 
dent should include twelve semester hours in mathe- 
matics and/or science. 

At this same meeting, it was decided to recom- 
mend a humanities requirement of fifteen semester 
hours; six of these hours were to be devoted to two 
three-semester hour courses in composition-litera- 
ture offered by the English Department; nine hours 
were to be devoted to courses selected from art, 
comparative religion, music, philosophy, and speech. 
Students would be required to elect courses in at 
least two of these areas. It was recommended that 
the art and music offerings be of an historical, 
esthetic, or appreciation nature. 

The social sciences distribution requirement was 



at Montclair State College 



the requirements were to be met by selection from 
a list of appropriate elective courses in the major 
field. Also, in order to prevent a liberal arts major 
from devoting too much time to his field, it was 
decided that no more than ten additional credits in 
the major would be counted toward the 128 points 
necessary for graduation. It was also noted by the 
Committee that no additional courses in the majors 
would have to be provided immediately because of 
the strong majors required traditionally at Mont- 
clair in the teacher education programs. 

Tlie Resource Committee decided to recommend 
that the distribution requirements for general educa- 
tion be met generally through courses which are now 
available or are to be provided to meet the gen- 
eral education requirements in the teacher education 
programs also. Thus, it was contemplated that, ex- 
cept in the professional courses, class enrollments 
would generalh- consist of both teacher education 
students and liberal arts students. 

At an early meeting of the Committee, the sub- 
ject of general education or course distribution re- 
quirements was considered. A foreign language re- 
quirement was recommended. The liberal arts stu- 



*" James Brvant Conant: TJir Education of American Teachers. 
New York: McGraw, Hill Book Co., Inc., 1963. p. 92. 



recommended as twelve semester hours which would 
include two de\elopment of civilization courses with 
an option for well-prepared students to take a de- 
velopment of oriental civilization course and a de- 
velopment of early western civilization course. The 
rest of the requirement would be met by elections 
from any two of the following areas: anthropology, 
economics, geograph\% political science, general 
psychology, sociology. 

The Committee decided to recommend the same 
Physical Education requirement for liberal arts stu- 
dents which is currently in use in tlie teacher edu- 
cation program. 

The Committee recommended that wherever pos- 
sible freedom of choice among courses to meet the 
distribution requirements would be desirable. 

Depending upon the method by which the foreign 
language requirement is met by a liberal arts stu- 
dent, he will have between fort\-one and fifty-five 
semester hours of free electives. From these electives, 
it would be possible also for the liberal arts stu- 
dent to develop a minor. 

It should be noted that the distribution require- 
ments in the liberal arts program ver\' closely paral- 
lel the general education requirements in the teacher 
education program. 



13 



The requirements for the Bachelor's degree in the 
hberal arts major, as recommended by the 
Committee, would be as follows: 

Foreign language to 12 sem. hrs. 

Humanities 15 sem. hrs. 

Social sciences 12 sem. hrs. 

Mathematics and/or science.,.- 12 sem. lirs. 

Major 32 to 34 sem. hrs. 

Physical Education 2 sem. hrs. 

"Electives 41 to 55 sem. hrs. 

Total 128 sem. hrs. 

" Of the electives, no more than ten semester hours may be 
devoted to the major. 

The advent of the liberal arts program has teles- 
coped, time-wise, the college's consideration of its 
general education program. Revisions in this area, 
which are constantly being studied and implement- 
ed, have had to be accomplished in a very short 
time. 



Because of the curriculum study, necessitated by 
the contemplated liberal arts programs, some minor 
adjustments in the curriculums in the major depart- 
ments have been found to be desirable. This con- 
sists of course retitling, renumbering, and reorgan- 
ization. 

Because of the high levels of preparation charac- 
teristic of the faculty at the college, Montclair 
will be able to provide excellent instruction in the 
new liberal arts programs which will be offered 
beginning next September. 

In providing liberal arts programs, Montclair, like 
the other State Colleges, is responding to the cur- 
rent desperate need for public higher education for 
the youth of New Jersey in programs other than 
teacher education. There seems to be no doubt that 
in the near future other programs will be introduced 
at the college as they have been at some of the 
other State Colleges in New Jersey. 



TO RALPH KIRKPATRICK 

( A harpsichord virtuoso ) 

Your fingers unfold fabric 

wrought bij harmony, 

displaying patterns 

fragile as spun glass. 

The bolder themes 

are like cathedral windows 

when translucent jewels 

reveal horizons 

where men grope for heaven. 

You weave in brilliant tones 

the continuity 

of rediscovered truth. 

Helen Van Alstyne Fountain, '27 



BACCHANTE 

The sea is drunk tonight! She sways 
And staggers to and fro. 
Too full of white wine dripped from stars 
And the moons inflaming glow. 

In reedy broken sounds she sings 
Some half-remembered tune 
And flings her long green curling arms 
Round the neck of the curving dune. 

The sea is drunk tonight; but when 
The night has spent its beams, 
Her jewelled body will lie still 
Within deep turquoise dreams. 

Anna Pfeifauf Paul, '33 



14 



Alumni Forum Makes Its First Venture into Prose Fiction— 



Bird Through Plate Glass Darkly 

By HAROLD FRIEDLANDER, '50 

Autumn moaned through the elevator shaft. Birds 
caught in updraughts that lurked betsveen the 
needle-tall buildings along the East River shot 
helter-skelter across the rim of the city: victims of 
invisible wind tunnels created by the architects of 
the city. 

Roger fought open the outer door of his apartment 
building. Balancing his bundles against his left 
shoulder, he edged his right through the narrow 
opening. The wind screaming in the elevator shaft 
made him feel the uneasy presence of giant winds 
sucking him upward. He watched the dial fan to- 
ward the twenty-third floor, got off and turned to 
his own door. The door pulled away from his key 
and nearly unbalanced him. His brother, Dick, kept 
him from falling by slipping a bundle from his 
arms. He set it on the table, nosed out a jar of 
fancy olives, and reached for the opener. 

"Put those back," Roger said, "I've got guests 
coming tonight." 

"So? cheapie!" Dick ate two olives at once. Roger 
winced. Then he remembered all the things Dick 
had done for him when they were kids. The old 
man had never taken him an>where, but Dick had. 
He decided on mediation. 

"All right, Quasimodo, we've worn out the bad 
brothers' act. Have a drink and relax." 

"Uh-uh, collich grad. That's not what I'm here 
for." Dick looked into the living room and stared 
in mock disbelief. "You have a TV in the bedroom 
and this one, too? How come?" 

"You know damn well that I bought the one in 
the bedroom and Dad left me the color one." 

"Hell he did! I'm supposed to have that set. You 
talked Mom out of it, and then I have to take the 
junk that's left." He jumped up and dowTi ner- 
vously. 

"Did you buy one flower at Easter for his grave?" 
Roger shouted back. "Did you give one rotten dime 
for funeral expenses? You were fast enough to claim 
his watch and shoes." 

"I don't know what you're talking about." Dick 
began pacing. As he did, he threw his arms out as 
if he were trying to shake off gum stuck to his 
fingertips. "You always change the subject whenever 




Harold Friedlander 

you want. Real intellectual witli a job on a magazine 
and all this arty stuff." He stared uneasily at an ab- 
stract oil a friend had done for Roger. "Isn't color 
TV too square for Roggie the Great?" 

The buzzer sounded, but Roger knew that it 
simply sounded the end of the round. "Come in 
tomorrow, you big ape," he said hastily, "and take 
the damn set." 

"I don't want )our lousy gift from the dead." 
Dick stalked out and shoved past .Amy Wilder w'ith- 
out acknowledging her. He held back the closing 
elevator door and descended. 

Roger avoided the girl's gaze of inquin,-. "Where 
the hell you been. Amy? I've got all this stuff tliat 
\ou told me to get and nothing is done. They'll be 
here in no time." 

"I had to put Tommy to bed," she said defen- 
sively. "My mother is having a fit as it is. Listen, 
I don't want to make an argument of it, but for 
God's sakes, go a little eas\' on her the next few 
times you call. She's been giving me hell about you 
all week." 

He checked a fresh answer. Hadn't he had 
enough? And his mother would call in the 
morning. She would start with a tearful plea and 



15 



end with illogical venom that would pry the color 
TV loose. If he hurt Amy, it would only mean a 
miserable hour of remorse in bed later on. "Dick 
wants Dad's color TV," he said in explanation of 
his pique. Instantly, she was on his side. 

"Don't give it up. Did he ever bring Howers to 
your Dad's grave?" 

"That's what I told him. I really insulted his vani- 
ty. I called him a big ape." 

"Oh, God! " She tittered. The tension snapped. 

"How's Tommy?" It was a relief to change the 
subject. 

"He called you Daddy tonight and my mother is 
having a small fit." 

"Who knows," he said, "maybe he'll have a right, 
soon." 

She wiped his breakfast dishes, cleaned the coun- 
ter, went into the bedroom and straightened out the 
pillows. She put on the coverlet he had stuffed in 
the closet. 

"Take care of the bed real good now." 

"Oh, you!" She sounded thoroughly pleased. 

He answered the buzzer and let in Harvey Ma- 
son and his wife. Amy came out to meet them. As 
they stared at Amy, there was a moment when he 
turned the subtleties of introduction over in his 
mind. "This is my fiancee. Amy Wilder. This is 
Nora and Harvey Mason, Amy." He didn't know 
the Masons. They were friends of his friend John, 
who would come later. John had told Roger that 
Mason might help him get a public relations job. 

"John speaks highly of this fellow," Mason said 
to his wife. To Roger he said, "He's your best press 
agent, I'm sure. He says you've done some fine free 
lance writing." 

"If you call it good. At least I keep my hand in 
it." Roger wanted to keep the conversation going. 
If only he dared press the issue, he thought. Amy 
excused herself and let in the Parkers. 

Lamplight reflected in the huge plate glass win- 
dow that was the outside living room wall. The 
lights of the city were curtained by the blackness 
of impending rain. Instead of night time, the glass 
reflected the guests drinking and chatting end- 
lessly, and made ghosts of them. The shade of Sam 
Parker, elongated to ten feet, played a rubber 
record that stretched far across the bloated turn- 
table. The drink glasses took on weird casts. The 
phone rang. Amy nodded and went into the bed- 
room to answer. 

She came out and stood in the hall, beckoning him 



nervously. 

"What's up?" he asked. 

"My mother. She's a little drunk. She wants me to 
come home. What should I do, Rog?" 

He went into the bedroom and took up the 
phone. "Hello, Mother Ryan? This is Roger." 

"Where are you talking from, Roger?" The voice 
wasn't one he seemed to know. Finally, the picture 
of their tiny apartment clicked into focus. He could 
see the old lady, far older than she needed to be, 
sitting so that she could see into Tommy's room. She 
would be flicking ashes at an oversized deer ashtray 
that she forever warned him must be handled care- 
fully. 

"Why, from the apartment, of course," he an- 
swered. 

"Where in the apartment?" 

"You've been here. The phone's where it always 
is, in the bedroom." He guessed what she was driv- 
ing at. 

"Listen, Roger Kramer. You get off my daughter. 
You get away from that good kid. She's had enough 
of bums like her husband and you." 

"What do you want, Mother Ryan?" He forced 
himself to be calm. 

"Don't Motlier Ryan me, you louse." He did not 
answer. He imagined he could feel her bite her lip. 
He heard her suck in air. Still he did not answer. 

"Listen, Roger," she sounded pathetic. "When you 
going to marry Amy? She's not the brightest thing 
in the world. For God's sakes I could tell you that 
or she wouldn't be in a mess all the time, but she 
loves you, and she'll be just right." 

"Sounds good. Mother Ryan. Listen, you take care 
of Tommy tonight? There's a fellow here who can 
get me some important public relations work. If 
I land it, well, we'll see." 

Mother Ryan's voice brightened. "Oh, a party 
with a big shot? Why didn't Amy say something? 
Listen Roger. She's very presentable to others. She's 
very well met, too. I've made sure of that." 

"Sure, sure. Listen, they're calling for more drinks. 
You know." 

"I know! Roger? You be careful with her, huh?" 

"Good night. Mother Ryan. Amy says good night, 
too." He misunderstood Amy's tugging on his arm 
and tried to wave her away. But Amy had bad news. 

"They're having an awful battle in there. Sam 
Parker's told Mason that he's a boob for wanting 
to listen to Dirksen on Face the Nation. Mason's 
about to go home." 



16 



"Oh, Christ! Parker watches GunsUnger every 
damn week, but to him, Dirksen's a jerk!" 

"How's GunsUnger, Parker?" Roger asked too loud- 
ly as he came into the living room. He saw that 
Sam and his wife had closed ranks on the couch. 
Harvey sat up straight on a Swedish chair, while his 
wife stared out the window in obvious embarrass- 
ment. 

Sam raised his eyebrows. "Listen, Rog, I can have 
my own arguments, ok? If this fellow likes some- 
thing, and I don't, that's my business and his. "If 
we need to adjudicate this matter, he continued 
pompously, "I think we could just look at what the 
intellectual press has to say about Dirksen." 

Mason swallowed an answer, looked at his watch, 
and noted that it was still too early to make a proper 
exit. 

Roger looked from one to the other of his guests. 
Where was he? What happens to all your days and 
nights to bring you to this?, he wondered. First 
his brother, then Amy's mother, then this. He tried 
to say it, but it came out badly. "Look fellows, have 
your own argument. But did it ever occur to 
either of you that tliis might be trivia?" 

"Trivia?" Now it was Mason who snapped at him. 
This fellow's hit a sensitive point: he says that any- 
one who 'falls for' a moderate point of view is a 
boob. As a PR for a big firm, how would that 
strike you?" 

'Tm just posing this in relation . . ." 

"Relation be damned. You P.R. guys are all the 
same." Mason came alive to his pet argument. His 
wife stifled a yawn. "You guys want the whole pie. 
All this," he waved at the decorations of the apart- 
ment, "and the sky as pure as virgin snow. Take 
your pick, you're not going to have both, that's for 
damn sure." 

"I have picked, I suppose," Roger said quietly. "But 
there still might be some degrees that separate men 
from jerks." 

"The jerk is me, is it, Kramer? Because I care 
about how much money the government spends?" 

"He didn't mean that," Amy apologized. "He . . ." 

"Shut your silly mouth," Roger turned on her. 
"What do \ou know about me?" She fell into fur- 
ious silence. He turned toward Mason again. "I 
know the routine. We all grab. Supposedly that 
makes us cannibals if we only face reality. At least 
that's tlie fable you real bastards try to recite to 
us. And, why? Because you see nothing in the glass 
but the bottom. You'll brainwash the sensitivity out 



of anyone fool enough to buy life on your terms, 
simply because you want to dictate all the rules. 

Sam applauded satirically. Amy was sobbing with 
fury. Mason rose to go. For an instant, the scene 
was frozen in time. In the silence, Roger listened to 
the frenzied moaning of the wind through the ele- 
vator shaft. The building swayed. Here and there 
a light poked out of the darkness as clouds shifted. 
An echo of moonlight peered in on the scene. Ma- 
son's wife, still staring through the glass, saw the 
bird come diving out of the night. 

The hawk had gotten lost in autumnal storms 
above the Canadian wilderness. He had flown south- 
east over unfamiliar settlements of men, his instincts 
overwhelmed. Chance led him finally to the East 
River, decoyed him toward the lights of Roger's 
apartment building. Now, eyes straining for a sign, 
wings struggling to level in the rising gale, he 
pointed toward the deceptive light. A tail wind 
picked him up. He dived forward, seventy-five miles 
an hour, until his body tore from the night and 
crashed through the plate glass window. His wings 
beat violently as he skidded across the living room 
rug and sent an end-table flying into a shower of 
smashed glass. He tore at tlie furniture with his 
beak. 

Mason's wife shrieked once and dropped to the 
floor. Mason dragged her away from the sight and 
propped her up in the kitchen against the refriger- 
ator. He got her coat, helped her struggle to her 
feet. Together they fled in wild distraction from 
their ordeal. 

"For God's sakes, Sam, take Mar\' and go. Tliis is 
awful, awful." A bluish-red puddle was growing on 
the rug. Amy threw down a whole roll of paper 
toweling, but she didn't look at the bird. Most 
of the towels missed the puddle. As Sam and his 
wife left, .Amy retreated to the kitchen. Roger heard 
her gasping for breath as he stood staring sym- 
pathetically at the creature. 

"You all right, Amy" he asked, finally. 

"My asthma. When I get frightened, I wheeze 
awful." . . . She wants to lea\e, he thought. 

"Here," he walked into the kitchen. He picked two 
ones out of his wallet. "Go downstairs and use the 
taxi phone. Just go. I'll take care of the mess." They 
looked at each other as though they were strangers. 
She left. 

He kicked aside broken glass and went over and 
examined the jagged opening that tlie bird had cut 
into the window. Emergency service, that's what he 
was supposed to call. He tried to remember where 



17 



he would have put the card with the number. Rain 
was coming in. The stiffening gale whipped the 
drapes and drowned out the record player which 
still repeated a gay tune. Lamphght gave the bird 
a garish look. Pillows that it had ripped, gaped with 
open wounds. 

The bird twitched convulsively and was silent. 
He kneeled close to it. "What can any of us do?" 
he said to the hawk. 

He picked up the bird. It was still warm. Its 
head fell sideways, beak open and stiff. He carried 



it to the window. The rain poured in now. The 
drapes blew across his face and formed a barrier 
between the dead bird and the man. 

He thrust the bird outside into its natural ele- 
ment of wind and storm. "Fly damn you, fly," he 
said to it hoarsely. 

But the bird was dead, and when he let it go, it 
fell straight down. As Roger withdrew his hands, 
a sharp splinter of glass cut a shallow red gash 
along his wrist. He looked at it and ground his 
teeth. "Damn everything to hell," he said softly. 



IT IS A SPIDER 

Your hand, dear, come closer 
And look at this 
No, don't squirm. 
Look more closelij. 

It is a spider. 

Look more closely 

And see how elegantly 

Blends the bronze of his back 

With the beige and brown of his sides. 

How trimly taper to the joints 

All eight legs of polished kaeton 

He is hard and smooth even to the minutia 

Of his pale face that works and fits 

In pieces with mechanical precision 

But look very closely 

And see how ineffably soft 

And fine are the pads of his many feet 

So fine, so light, you'd not notice them 

Padding unseen across your finger 

Nor feel that they are cool. 

But why do you squirm? 
Is he sinister? Predatorij? 
No, look closely 
Into that bright, lidless eye: 
No passion for evil warms 
That clammy, cool and liquid bead. 
Why do you draw back from him, dear— 
and from me? 

Susan Angela Flannelly, '64 



18 



No itiniwry oj Alma Mater 

older than a year or so 

IS likely to hear tnncit rese/nhlance 

to today's college or university. 

Which, in our fast-moving society, 

is precisely as it shonid he, 

if higher education is . . . 

To Keep Pace 
with America 



w 

▼ ▼ HAT < 



HAT ON EARTH is going on, there? 

Across the land, alumni and alumnae are asking 
that question about their alma maters. Most of 
America's colleges and universities are changing 
rapidly, and some of them drastically. Alumni and 
alumnae, taught for years to be loyal to good old 
Siwash and to be sentimental about its history and 
traditions, are puzzled or outraged. 

And they are not the only ones making anguished 
responses to the new developments on the nation's 
campuses. 

From a student in Texas: "The professors care less 
and less about teaching. They don't grade our papers 
or exams any more, and they turn over the discus- 
sion sections of their classes to graduate students. 
Why can't we have mind-to-mind combat?" 

From a university administrator in Michigan: 
"The faculty and students treat this place more like 
a bus terminal every year. They come and go as they 
never did before." 

From a professor at a college in Pennsylvania: 
"The present crop of students? They're the brightest 
ever. They're also the most arrogant, cynical, dis- 
respectful, ungrateful, and intense group I've taught 
in 30 years." 



From a student in Ohio: "The whole bit on this 
campus now is about 'the needs of .society,' 'the 
needs of the international .situation,' 'the needs of 
the IBM system.' What about my needs?" 

From the dean of a college in Massachusetts: 
"Everything historic and .sacred, everything built by 
2,000 years of civilization, suddenly seems old hat. 
Wisdom now consists in being up-to-the-minute." 

From a professor in New Jersey: "So help me, I 
only have time to read about 10 books a year, now. 
I'm always behind." 

From a professor at a college for women in 
Virginia: "What's happening to good manners? 
And good taste? And decent dress? Are we entering 
a new age of the slob?" 

From a trustee of a university in Rhode Island: 
"They all want us to care for and support our institu- 
tion, when tliey themselves don't give a hoot." 

From an alumnus of a college in California: "No 
one seems to have time for friendship, good humor, 
and fun, now. The students don't even sing, any 
more. Why, most of them don't know the college 
songs." 

What M happening al America's colleges and 
universities to cause such comments? 



I 



Today ^s colleges and universities: 



T BEGAN around 1 950 — silently, unnoticed. The 
signs were little ones, seemingly unconnected. Sud- 
denly the number of books published began to soar. 
That year Congress established a National Science 
Foundation to promote scientific progress through 
education and basic research. College enrollments, 
swollen by returned war veterans with G.I. Bill 
benefits, refused to return to "normal"; instead, they 
began to rise sharply. Industry began to expand its 
research facilities significantly, raiding the colleges 
and graduate schools for brainy talent. Faculty 
salaries, at their lowest since the 1930's in terms of 
real income, began to inch up at the leading col- 
leges. China, the most populous nation in the world, 
fell to the Communists, only a short time after several 
Eastern European nations were seized by Com- 
munist coups d'etat; and, aided by support from 
several philanthropic foundations, there was a rush 
to study Communism, military problems and 
weapons, the Orient, and underdeveloped countries. 

Now, 15 years later, we have begun to compre- 
hend what started then. The United States, locked 
in a Cold War that may drag on for half a century, 
has entered a new era of rapid and unrelenting 
change. The nation continues to enjoy many of the 
benefits of peace, but it is forced to adopt much of 
the urgency and pressure of wartime. To meet the 
bold challenges from outside, Americans have had 
to transform many of their nation's habits and in- 
stitutions. 

The biggest change has been in the rate of change 
itself. 

Life has always changed. But never in the history 
of the world has it changed with such rapidity as it 
does now. Scientist J. Robert Oppenheimer recently 
observed: "One thing that is new is the prevalence of 
newness, the changing scale and scope of change it- 
self, so that the world alters as we walk in it, so that 
the years of a man's life measure not some small 
growth or rearrangement or modification of what he 
learned in childhood, but a great upheaval." 

Psychiatrist Erik Erikson has put it thus: "To- 
day, men over 50 owe their identity as individu- 
als, as citizens, and as professional workers to a 
period when change had a different quality and 



when a dominant view of the world was one of 
a one-way extension into a future of prosperity, 
progress, and reason. If they rebelled, they did so 
against details of this firm trend and often only for 
the sake of what they thought were even firmer 
ones. They learned to respond to the periodic chal- 
lenge of war and revolution by reasserting the in- 
terrupted trend toward normalcy. What has changed 
in the meantime is, above all, the character of 
change itself." 

This new pace of change, which is not likely to 
slow down soon, has begun to affect every facet of 
American life. In our vocabulary, people now speak 
of being "on the move," of "running around," and 
of "go, go, go." In our politics, we are witnessing 
a major realignment of the two-party system. Editor 
Max Ways of Fortune magazine has said, "Most 
American political and social issues today arise out 
of a concern over the pace and quality of change." 
In our morality, many are becoming more "cool," 
or uncommitted. If life changes swiftly, many think 
it wise not to get too attached or devoted to any 
particular set of beliefs or hierarchy of values. 




Copyright 7966 bji Editorial Projects Jor Education, tnt. 



busy faculties^ serious students^ and Imrd courses 



Of all American institutions, that which is most 
profoundly affected by the new tempo of radical 
change is the school. And, although all levels of 
schooling are feeling the pressure to change, those 
probably feeling it the most are our colleges and 
universities. 



A 



-T THE HE.ART of AmcHca's shift to a new 
life of constant change is a revolution in the role 
and nature of higher education. Increasingly, all of 
us live in a society shaped by our colleges and 
universities. 

From the campuses has come the expertise to 
travel to the moon, to crack the genetic code, and 
to develop computers that calculate as fast as light. 
From the campuses has come new information 
about Africa's resources, Latin-American econom- 
ics, and Oriental politics. In the past 15 years, col- 
lege and university scholars have produced a dozen 




or more accurate translations of the Bible, more 
than were produced in the past 15 centuries. Uni- 
versity researchers have helped virtually to wipe 
out three of the nation's worst diseases: malaria, 
tuberculosis, and polio. The chief work in art and 
music, outside of a few large cities, is now being 
done in our colleges and universities. And profound 
concern for the U.S. racial situation, for U.S. for- 
eign policy, for the problems of increasing urbanism, 
and for new religious forms is now being expressed 
by students and professors inside the academies 
of higher learning. 

As American colleges and universities have been 
instrumental in creating a new world of whirlwind 
change, so have they themselves been subjected to 
unprecedented pressures to change. They are differ- 
ent places from what they were 15 years ago — in 
some cases almost unrecognizably different. The 
faculties are busier, the students more serious, and 
the courses harder. The campuses gleam with new 
buildings. While the shady-grove and paneled - 
library colleges used to spend nearly all of their 
time teaching the young, they have now been 
burdened with an array of new duties. 

Clark Kerr, president of the University of Cali- 
fornia, has put the new situation succinctly: "The 
university has become a prime instrument of na- 
tional purpose. This is new. This is the essence of 
the transformation now engulfing our universities." 

The colleges have always assisted the national 
purpose by helping to produce better clergymen, 
farmers, lawyers, businessmen, doctors, and teach- 
ers. Through athletics, through religious and moral 
guidance, and through fairly demanding academic 
work, particularly in history and literature, the 
colleges have helped to keep a sizable portion of 
the men who have ruled America rugged, reason- 
ably upright and public-spirited, and informed and 
sensible. The problem of an eff'ete, selfish, or igno- 
rant upper class that plagues certain other nations 
has largely been avoided in the United States. 

But never before have the colleges and universities 
been expected to fulfill so many dreams and projects 
of the American people. Will we outdistance the 
Russians in the space race? It depends on the caliber 




J 



of scientists and engineers that our universities pro- 
duce. Will we find a cure for cancer, for arthritis, 
for the common cold? It depends upon the faculties 
and the graduates of our medical schools. Will we 
stop the Chinese drive for world dominion? It de- 
pends heavily on the political experts the universi- 
ties turn out and on the military weapons that 
university research helps develop. Will we be able 
to maintain our high standard of living and to avoid 
depressions? It depends upon whether the universi- 
ties can supply business and government with in- 
ventive, imaginative, farsighted persons and ideas. 
Will we be able to keep human values alive in our 
machine-filled world? Look to college philosophers 
and poets. Everyone, it seems — from the impover- 
ished but aspiring Negro to the mother who wants 
her children to be emotionally healthy — sees the col- 
lege and the university as a deliverer, today. 

Thus it is no exaggeration to .say that colleges and 
universities have become one of our greatest re- 
sources in the cold war, and one of our greatest 
assets in the uncertain peace. America's schools 
have taken a new place at the center of .society. 
Ernest Sirluck, dean of graduate studies at the 
University of Toronto, has said: "The calamities of 
recent history have undermined the prestige and 
authority of what used to be the great central insti- 
tutions of society. . . . Many people have turned to 
the universities ... in the hope of finding, through 
them, a renewed or substitute authority in life." 



T 



HE NEW PRESSURES to scrve the nation in 
an ever-expanding variety of ways have wrought a 
stunning transformation in most American colleges 
and universities. 

For one thing, they look different, compared with 
15 years ago. Since 1950, American colleges and 
universities have spent about $16.5 billion on new 
buildings. One third of the entire higher education 
plant in the United States is less than 15 years old. 
More than 180 completely new campuses are now 
being built or planned. 

Scarcely a college has not added at least one 
building to its plant; most have added three, four, 
or more. (Science buildings, libraries, and dormi- 
tories have been the most desperately needed addi- 



New respoiisibdUies 
are transforming 
once-quiet campuses 



tions.) Their architecture and placement have 
moved some alumni and students to howls of pro- 
test, and others to expressions of awe and delight. 

The new construction is required largely because 
of the startling growth in the number of young 
people wanting to go to college. In 1950, there 
were about 2.2 million undergraduates, or roughly 
18 percent of all Americans between 18 and 21 
years of age. This academic year, 1965-66, there 
are about 5.4 million undergraduates — a whopping 
30 percent of the 18-21 age group.* The total num- 
ber of college students in the United States has 
more than doubled in a mere decade and a half. 

As two officials of the American Council on Edu- 
cation pointed out, not long ago: "It is apparent 
that a permanent revolution in collegiate patterns 
has occurred, and that higher education has be- 
come and will continue to be the common training 
ground for American adult life, rather than the 
province of a small, select portion of society." 

Of today's 5.4 million undergraduates, one in 
every five attends a kind of college that barely 
existed before World War II — the junior, or com- 
munity, college. Such colleges now comprise nearly 
one third of America's 2,200 institutions of higher 
education. In California, where community colleges 
have become an integral part of the higher educa- 
tion scene, 84 of every 100 freshmen and sophomores 
last year were enrolled in this kind of institution. By 
1975, estimates the U.S. Office of Education, one 
in every two students, nationally, will attend a 
two-year college. 

Graduate .schools are growing almost as fast. 



*The percentage is sometimes quoted as beinR much higher be- 
cause it is assumed that nearly all undergraduates arc in the 18-21 
bracket. Actually only 68 percent of all collet;e students are in that 
age category. Three percent are under 18; 29 percent arc over 21. 



Higher education's 
patterns are changing; 
so are its leaders 



While only 11 percent of America's college gradu- 
ates went on to graduate work in 1950, about 25 
percent will do so after their commencement in 
1966. At one institution, over 85 percent of the 
recipients of bachelor's degrees now continue their 
education at graduate and professional schools. 
Some institutions, once regarded primarily as under- 
graduate schools, now have more graduate students 
than undergraduates. Across America, another phe- 
nomenon has occurred: numerous state colleges 
have added graduate schools and become uni- 
versities. 

There are also dramatic shifts taking place among 
the various kinds of colleges. It is often forgotten 
that 877, or 40 percent, of America's colleges and 
universities are related, in one way or another, with 
religious denominations (Protestant, 484; Catholic, 
366; others, 27). But the percentage of the nation's 
students that the church-related institutions enroll 
has been dropping fast; last year they had 950,000 
undergraduates, or only 18 percent of the total. 
Sixty-nine of the church-related colleges have fewer 
than 100 students. Twenty percent lack accredita- 
tion, and another 30 percent are considered to be 
academically marginal. Partially this is because 
they have been unable to find adequate financial 
support. A Danforth Foundation commission on 
church colleges and universities noted last spring: 
"The irresponsibility of American churches in pro- 
viding for their institutions is deplorable. The aver- 
age contribution of churches to their colleges is only 
12.8 percent of their operating budgets." 

Church-related colleges have had to contend 
with a growing secularization in American life, with 
the increasing difficulty of locating scholars with a 
religious commitment, and with bad planning from 
their sponsoring church groups. About planning, 
the Danforth Commission report observed: "No one 




can justify the operation of four Presbyterian col- 
leges in Iowa, three Methodist colleges in Indiana, 
five United Presbyterian institutions in Missouri, 
nine Methodist colleges in North Carolina (includ- 
ing two brand new ones), and three Roman Catholic 
colleges for women in Milwaukee." 

Another important shift among the colleges is 
the changing position of private institutions, as pub- 
lic institutions grow in size and number at a much 
faster rate. In 1950, 50 percent of all students were 
enrolled in private colleges; this year, the private 
colleges' share is only 33 percent. By 1975, fewer 
than 25 percent of all students are expected to be 




enrolled in the non-public colleges and universities. 
Other changes are evident: More and more stu- 
dents prefer urban colleges and universities to rural 
ones; now, for example, with more than 400,000 
students in her colleges and universities, America's 
greatest college town is metropolitan New York. 
Coeducation is gaining in relation to the all-men's 
and the all-women's colleges. And many predomi- 
nantly Negro colleges have begun to worry about 
their future. The best Negro students are sought 
after by many leading colleges and universities, and 
each year more and more Negroes enroll at inte- 
grated institutions. Precise figures are hard to come 



by, but 15 years ago there were roughly 120,000 
Negroes in college, 70 percent of ihem in predomi- 
nantly Negro institutions; last year, according to 
Whitney Young, Jr., executive director of the 
National Urban League, there were 220,000 Ne- 
groes in college, but only 40 percent at predomi- 
nantly Negro institutions. 



T 

^^^^ HE 



HE REMARKABLE GROWTH in the number of 
students going to college and the shifting patterns 
of college attendance have had great impact on the 
administrators of the colleges and universities. They 
have become, at many institutions, a new breed 
of men. 

Not too long ago, many college and university 
presidents taught a course or two, wrote important 
papers on higher education as well as articles and 
books in their fields of scholarship, knew most of 
the faculty intimately, attended alumni reunions, 
and spoke with heartiness and wit at student din- 
ners. Rotary meetings, and football rallies. Now- 
many presidents are preoccupied with planning 
their schools' growth and with the crushing job of 
finding the funds to make such growth possible. 

Many a college or university president today is, 
above all else, a fund-raiser. If he is head of a pri- 
vate institution, he spends great amounts of time 
searching for individual and corporate donors; if he 
leads a public institution, lie adds the task of legis- 
lative relations, for it is from the legislature that the 
bulk of his financial support must come. 

With much of the rest of his time, he is involved 
in economic planning, architectural design, person- 
nel recruitment for his faculty and staff, and curric- 
ulum changes. (Curriculums have been changing 
almost as substantially as the physical facilities, 
because the explosion in knowledge has been as 
sizable as the explosion in college admissions. Whole 
new fields such as biophysics and mathematical 
economics have sprung up; traditional fields have 
expanded to include new topics such as comparative 
ethnic music and the history of film; and topics 
that once were touched on lightly, such as Oriental 
studies or oceanography, now require extended 
treatment.) 

To cope with his vastly enlarged duties, the mod- 



Many professors are research-minded specialist 



ern college or university president has often had to 
double or triple his administrative staff since 1950. 
Positions that never existed before at most institu- 
tions, such as campus architects, computer pro- 
grammers, government liaison officials, and deans 
of financial aid, have sprung up. The number of 
institutions holding membership in the American 
College Public Relations Association, to cite only 
one example, has risen from 591 in 1950 to more 
than 1,000 this year — including nearly 3,000 indi- 
vidual workers in the public relations and fund- 
raising field. 

A whole new profession, that of the college "de- 
velopment officer," has virtually been created in 
the past 1 5 years to help the president, who is usu- 
ally a transplanted scholar, with the twin problems 
of institutional growth and fund-raising. According 
to Eldredge Hiller, executive director of the Ameri- 
can Association of Fund-Raising Counsel, "In 1950 
very few colleges and universities, except those in 
the Ivy League and scattered wealthy institutions, 
had directors or vice presidents of development. 
Now there are very few institutions of higher learn- 
ing that do not." In addition, many schools that 
have been faced with the necessity of special de- 
velopment projects or huge capital campaigns have 
sought expertise and temporary personnel from out- 
side development consultants. The number of major 
firms in this field has increased from 10 to 26 since 
1950, and virtually every firm's staff" has grown 
dramatically over the years. 

Many alumni, faculty members, and students 
who have watched the president's suite of offices 
expand have decried the "growing bureaucracy." 
What was once "old President Doe" is now "The 
Administration," assailed on all sides as a driving, 
impersonal, remote organization whose purposes 
and procedures are largely alien to the traditional 
world of academe. 

No doubt there is some truth to such charges. In 
their pursuit of dollars to raise faculty salaries and 
to pay for better facilities, a number of top officials 
at America's colleges and universities have had 
insufficient time for educational problems, and some 
have been more concerned with business efficiency 



than with producing intelligent, sensible human 
beings. However, no one has yet suggested how 
"prexy" can be his old, sweet, leisurely, scholarly 
self and also a dynamic, farsighted administrator 
who can successfully meet the new challenges of 
unprecedented, radical, and constant change. 

One president in the Midwest recently said: "The 
engineering faculty wants a nuclear reactor. The 
arts faculty needs a new theater. The students want 
new dormitories and a bigger psychiatric consulting 
office. The alumni want a better faculty and a new 
gymnasium. And they all expect me to produce 
these out of a single oflfice with one secretary and a 
small filing cabinet, while maintaining friendly con- 
tacts with them all. I need a magic lantern." 

Another president, at a small college in New 
England, said: "The faculty and students claim 
they don't see much of me any more. Some have 
become vituperative and others have wondered if I 
really still care about them and the learning process. 
I was a teacher for 18 years. I miss them — and my 
scholarly work — terribly." 



T 

.Jl^. HE 



HE ROLE AND PACE of the profcssors have 
changed almost as much as the administrators', if 
not more, in the new period of rapid growth and 
radical change. 

For the most part, scholars are no longer regarded 
as ivory-tower dreamers, divorced from society. 
They are now important, even indispensable, men 
and women, holding keys to international security, 
economic growth, better health, and cultural ex- 
cellence. For the first time in decades, most of their 
salaries are approaching respectability. (The na- 
tional average of faculty salaries has risen from 
$5,311 in 1950 to S9,317 in 1965, according to a 
survey conducted by the American Association of 
University Professors.) The best of them are pur- 
sued by business, government, and other colleges. 
They travel frequently to speak at national con- 
ferences on modern music or contemporary urban 




problems, and to international conferences on par- 
ticle physics or literature. 

In the classroom, they are seldom the professors of 
the past: the witty, cultured gentlemen and ladies — 
or tedious pedants — who know CJreek, Latin, French, 
literature, art, music, and history fairly well. They 
are now^ earnest, expert specialists who know alge- 
braic geometry or international monetary economics 
— and not much more than that — exceedingly well. 
Sensing America's needs, a growing number of 
them are attracted to research, and many prefer it 
to teaching. And those who are not attracted are 
often pushed by an academic "rating system" 
which, in effect, gives its highest rewards and pro- 
motions to people who conduct research and write 
about the results they achieve. "Publish or perish" 
is the profe.s.sors' succinct, if somewhat overstated, 
way of describing how the system operates. 

Since many of the .scholars — and especially the 
youngest instructors — are more dedicated and "fo- 
cused" than their predecessors of yesteryear, the 
allegiance of professors has to a large degree shifted 
from their college and university to their academic 
discipline. A radio-astronomer first, a Siwash pro- 
fessor second, might be a fair way of putting it. 

There is much talk about giving control of the 
universities back to the faculties, but there are strong 
indications that, when the opportunity is offered, 
the faculty members don't want it. Academic deci- 
sion-making involves committee work, elaborate in- 
vestigations, and lengthy deliberations — time away 
from their laboratories and books. Besides, many 
professors fully expect to move soon, to another 
college or to industry or government, so why bother 
about the curriculum or rules of student conduct? 
Then, too, some of them plead an inability to take 
part in broad decision-making since they are expert 
in only one limited area. "I'm a geologist," said one 
professor in the West. "What would I know about 
admissions policies or student demonstrations?" 

Professors have had to narrow their scholarly In- 
terests chiefly because knowledge has advanced to a 
point where it is no longer possible to master more 
than a tiny portion of it. Physicist Randall Whaley, 
who is now chancellor of the University of Missouri 
at Kansas City, has observed: "There is about 
100 times as much to know now as was avail- 
able in 1900. By the year 2000, there will be over 
1,000 times as much." (Since 1950 the number of 
scholarly periodicals has increased from 45,000 to 



95,000. In science alone, 55,000 journals, 60,000 
books, and 100,000 research monographs are pub- 
lished annually.) In such a situadon, fragmentadon 
seems inevitable. 

Probably the most frequently heard cry about, 
professors nowadays, even at the smaller colleges, is 
that they are so research-happy that they neglect 
teaching. "Our present universities have ceased to be 
schools," one graduate student complained in the 
Harvard Educational Review last spring. Similar charges 
have stirred pulses at American colleges and uni- 
versities coast to coast, for the past few years. 

No one can dispute the assertion that research 
has grown. The fact is, it has been getting more and 
more attention since the end of the Nineteenth 
Century, when several of America's leading uni- 
versities tried to break away from the English col- 
lege tradition of training clergymen and gentlemen, 
primarily through the classics, and to move toward 
the German university tradition of rigorous scholar- 
ship and scientific inquiry. But research has pro- 
ceeded at runaway speed since 1950, when the 
Federal Government, for military, political, eco- 
nomic, and public-health reasons, decided to sup- 
port scientific and technological research in a major 
way. In 1951 the Federal Government spent $295 
million in the colleges and universities for research 
and development. By 1965 that figure had grown 
to $1.7 billion. During the same period, private 
philanthropic foundations also increased their sup- 
port substantially. 

At bottom, the new emphasis on research is due 
to the university's becoming "a prime instrument 
of national purpose," one of the nation's chief means 
of maintaining supremacy in a long-haul cold war. 
The emphasis is not likely to be lessened. And more 
and more colleges and universities will feel its 
effects. 



B 



UT WHAT ABOUT education — the teaching 
of young people — that has traditionally been the 
basic aim of our institutions of higher learning? 

Many scholars contend, as one university presi- 
dent put it, that "current research commitments 
are far more of a positive aid than a detriment to 
teaching," because they keep teachers vital and at 



The push to do research: 
Does it affect teaching? 



the forefront of knowledge. "No one engaged in re- 
search in his field is going to read decade-old lec- 
ture notes to his class, as many of the so-called 'great 
professors' of yesterday did," said a teacher at a uni- 
versity in Wisconsin. 

Others, however, see grave problems resulting 
from the great emphasis on research. For one thing, 
they argue, research causes professors to spend less 
time with students. It also introduces a disturbing 
note of competitiveness among the faculty. One 
physicist has put it this way: 

"I think my professional field of physics is getting 
too hectic, too overcrowded; there is too much pres- 
sure for my taste. . . . Research is done under tre- 
mendous pressure because there are so many people 
after the same problem that one cannot afford to 
relax. If you are working on something which 10 
other groups are working on at the same time, and 
you take a week's vacation, the others beat you 
and publish first. So it is a mad race." 

Heavy research, others argue, may cause pro- 
fessors to concentrate narrowly on their discipline 
and to see their students largely in relation to it 
alone. Numerous observers have pointed to the 
professors' shift to more demanding instruction, but 
also to their more technical, pedantic teaching. 
They say the emphasis in teaching may be moving 
from broad understanding to factual knowledge, 
from community and world problems to each disci- 
pline's tasks, from the releasing of young people's 
minds to the cramming of their minds with the stuff 
of each subject. A professor in Louisiana has said, 
"In modern college teaching there is much more 
of the 'how' than the 'why.' Values and fundamen- 
tals are too interdisciplinary." 

And, say the critics, research focuses attention on 
the new, on the frontiers of knowledge, and tends to 
forget the history of a subject or the tradition of 
intellectual inquiry. This has wrought havoc with 
liberal arts education, which seeks to introduce 
young people to the modes, the achievements, the 



DRAWINGS BY ARNO STERNGLASS 




consequences, and the difficulties of intellectual in- 
quiry in Western civilization. Professor Maure 
Goldschmidt, of Oregon's Reed College, has said: 

"The job of a liberal arts college is to pass on 
the heritage, not to push the frontiers. Once you get 
into the competitive research market, the demands 
become incompatible with good teaching." 

Another professor, at a university in Florida, has 
said: 

"Our colleges are supposed to train intelligent 
citizens who will use knowledge wisely, not just 
intellectual drones. To do this, the colleges must 
convey to students a sense of where we've come 
from, where we are now, and where we are going — 
as well as what it all means— and not just inform 
them of the current problems of research in each 
field." 



Somewhat despairingly, Professor Jacques Barzun 
recently wrote: 

"Nowadays the only true believers in the liberal 
arts tradition are the men of business. They really 
prefer general intelligence, literacy, and adapt- 
ability. They know, in the first place, that the con- 
ditions of their work change so rapidly that no col- 
lege courses can prepare for them. And they also 
know how often men in mid-career suddenly feel 
that their work is not enough to sustain their 
spirits." 

Many college and university teachers readily ad- 
mit that they may have neglected, more than they 
should, the main job of educating the young. But 
they just as readily point out that their role is 
changing, that the rate of accumulation of knowl- 
edge is accelerating madly, and that they are ex- 
tremely busy and divided individuals. They also 
note that it is through research that more money, 
glory, prestige, and promotions are best attained 
in their profession. 

For some scholars, research is also where the 
highest excitement and promise in education are to 
be found. "With knowledge increasing so rapidly, 
research is the only way to assure a teacher that 
he is keeping ahead, that he is aware of the really 
new and important things in his field, that he can be 
an eff"ective teacher of the next generation," says one 
advocate of research-cwm-instruction. And, for some, 
research is the best way they know to serve the 
nation. "Aren't new ideas, more information, and 
new discoveries most important to the United States 
if we are to remain free and prosperous?" asks a pro- 
fessor in the Southwest. "We're in a protracted war 
with nations that have sworn to bury us." 



T 



HE STUDENTS, of course, are perplexed by 
the new academic scene. 

They arrive at college having read the catalogues 
and brochures with their decade-old paragraphs 
about "the importance of each individual" and 
"the many student-faculty relationships" — and hav- 
ing heard from alumni some rosy stories about the 
leisurely, friendly, pre-war days at Quadrangle U. 
On some campuses, the reality almost lives up to 
the expectations. But on others, the students are 





Tlie students react 
to ^Vte system^^ with 
fierce mclependence 



dismayed to discover that they are treated as merely 
parts of another class (unless they are geniuses, star 
athletes, or troublemakers), and that the faculty 
and deans are extremely busy. For administrators, 
faculty, and alumni, at least, accommodating to the 
new world of radical change has been an evolu- 
tionary process, to which they have had a chance to 
adjust somewhat gradually; to the students, arriving 
fresh each year, it comes as a severe shock. 

Forced to look after themselves and gather broad 
understanding outside of their classes, they form 
their own community life, with their own values 
and methods of self-discovery. Piqued by apparent 
adult indifference and cut off from regular contacts 
with grown-up dilemmas, they tend to become more 
outspoken, more irresponsible, more independent. 
Since the amount of financial aid for students has 
tripled since 1950, and since the current condition 
of American society is one of affluence, many stu- 
dents can be independent in expensive ways: twist 
parties in Florida, exotic cars, and huge record col- 
lections. They tend to become more sophisticated 
about those things that they are left to deal with on 
their own: travel, religion, recreation, sex, politics. 

Partly as a reaction to what they consider to be 
adult dedication to narrow, selfish pursuits, and 
partly in imitation of their professors, they have 
become more international-minded and socially 
conscious. Possibly one in 10 students in some 
colleges works off-campus in community service 
projects — tutoring the poor, fixing upslum dwellings, 
or singing and acting for local charities. To the 
consternation of many adults, some students have 
become a force for social change, far away from 
their colleges, through the Peace Corps in Bolivia 
or a picket line in another state. Pressured to be 
brighter than any previous generation, the>' fight to 



feel as useful as any previous generation. A student 
from Iowa said: "I don't want to study, study, 
study, just to fill a hole in some government or 
industrial bureaucracy." 

The students want to work out a new style of 
academic life, just as administrators and faculty 
members are doing; but they don't know quite 
how, as yet. They are burying the rah-rah stuff, but 
what is to take its place? They protest vociferously 
against whatever they don't like, but they have no 
program of reform. Restless, an increasing number 
of them change colleges at least once during their 
undergraduate careers. They are like the two char- 
acters in Jack Kerouac's On the Road. "We got to 



go and never stop till we get there," says one. 
"Where are we going, man?" asks the other. "I 
don't know, but we gotta go," is the answer. 

As with any group in swift transition, the students 
are often painfully confused and contradictory. A 
Newsweek poll last year that asked students whom 
they admired most found that many said "Nobody" 
or gave names like Y. A. Tittle or Joan Baez. It is 
no longer rare to find students on some campuses 
dressed in an Ivy League button-down shirt, farm- 
er's dungarees, a French beret, and a Roman beard 
— all at once. They argue against large bureaucra- 
cies, but most turn to the industrial giants, not to 
smaller companies or their own business ventures, 



(^■5^^-v^ 




Tlie alumni lament: We douH recognize tlw place 



when tliey look for jobs after graduation. They are 
critical of religion, but they desperately seek people, 
courses, and experiences tiiat can reveal some mean- 
ing to them. An instructor at a university in Con- 
necticut says: "The chapel is fairly empty, but the 
religion courses are bulging with students." 

Caught in the rapids of powerful change, and 
left with only their own resources to deal with the 
rush, the students tend to feel helpless — often too 
much so. Sociologist David Riesman has noted: 
"The students know that there are many decisions 
out of their conceivable control, decisions upon 
which their lives and fortunes truly depend. But . . . 
this truth, this insight, is over-generalized, and, 
being believed, it becomes more and more 'true'." 
Many students, as a result, have become grumblers 
and cynics, and some have preferred to withdraw 
into private pads or into early marriages. However, 
there are indications that some students are learning 
how to be efTective — if only, so far, through the 
largely negative methods of disruption. 



I 



.F THE FACULTIES .\ND THE STUDENTS are per- 
plexed and groping, the alumni of many American 
colleges and universities are positively dazed. Every- 
thing they have revered for years seems to be crum- 
bling: college spirit, fraternities, good manners, 
freshman customs, colorful lectures, singing, humor 
magazines and reliable student newspapers, long 
talks and walks with professors, daily chapel, din- 
ners by candlelight in formal dress, reunions that 
are fun. As one alumnus in Tennessee said, "They 
keep asking me to give money to a place I no longer 
recognize." Assaulted by many such remarks, one 
development officer in Massachusetts countered: 
"Look, alumni have seen America and the world 
change. When the old-timers went to school there 
were no television sets, few cars and fewer airplanes, 
no nuclear weapons, and no Red China. Why 
should colleges alone stand still? It's partly our 
fault, though. We traded too long on sentiment 



rather than information, allegiance, and purpose." 

What some alumni are beginning to realize is 
that they themselves are changing rapidly. Owing 
to the recent expansion of enrollments, nearly one 
half of all alumni and alumnae now are persons 
who have been graduated since 1950, when the 
period of accelerated change began. At a number 
of colleges, the song-and-revels homecomings have 
been turned into seminars and discussions about 
space travel or African politics. And at some institu- 
tions, alumni councils are being asked to advise on 
and, in some cases, to help determine parts of 
college policy. 

Dean David B. Truman, of New York's Columbia 
College, recently contended that alumni are going 
to have to learn to play an entirely new role vis-a-vis 
their alma maters. The increasingly mobile life of 
most scholars, many administrators, and a growing 
number of students, said the dean, means that, if 
anyone is to continue to have a deep concern for the 
whole life and future of each institudon, "that focus 
increasingly must come from somewhere outside 
the once-collegial body of the faculty" — namely, 
from the alumni. 

However, even many alumni are finding it harder 
to develop strong attachments to one college or 
university. Consider the person who goes to, say, 
Davidson College in North Carolina, gets a law 
degree from the University of Virginia, marries a girl 
who was graduated from Wellesley, and settles in 
Albuquerque, New Mexico, where he pays taxes 
to help support the state university. (He pays Fed- 
eral taxes, too, part of which goes, through Govern- 
ment grants and contracts, to finance work at 
hundreds of other colleges and universities.) 

Probably the hardest thing of all for many alumni 
— indeed, for people of all loyalties — to be recon- 
ciled to is that we live in a new era of radical change, 
a new time when almost nothing stands still for 
very long, and when continual change is the normal 
pattern of development. It is a terrible fact to face 
openly, for it requires that whole chunks of our 
traditional way of thinking and behaving be revised. 

Take the standard chore of defining the purpose 
of any particular college or university. Actually, 



4 



some colleges and universities are now discarding 
the whole idea of statements of purpose, regarding 
their main task as one of remaining open-ended to 
accommodate the rapid changes. "There is no single 
'end' to be discovered," says California's Clark 
Kerr. Many administrators and professors agree. 
But American higher education is sufficiently vast 
and varied to house many — especially those at small 
colleges or church-related institutions — who differ 
with this view. 

What alumni and alumnae will have to find, as 
will everyone connected with higher education, are 
some new norms, some novel patterns of behavior 
by which to navigate in this new, constantly inno- 
vating society. 

For the alumni and alumnae, then, there must be 
an ever-fresh outlook. They must resist the inclina- 
tion to howl at every departure that their alma mater 
makes from the good old days. They need to see their 
alma mater and its role in a new light. To remind 
professors about their obligations to teach students 
in a stimulating and broadening manner may be a 
continuing task for alumni; but to ask the faculty 
to return to pre-1950 habits of leisurely teaching 
and counseling will be no service to the new aca- 
demic world. 

In order to maintain its greatness, to keep ahead, 
America must innovate. To innovate, it must con- 
duct research. Hence, research is here to stay. And 
so is the new seriousness of purpose and the intensity 



of academic work that today is so widespread on 
the campuses. 

Alumni could become a greater force for keeping 
alive at our universities and colleges a sense of joy, 
a knowledge of Western traditions and values, a 
quest for meaning, and a respect for individual per- 
sons, especially young persons, against the mounting 
pressures for sheer work, new findings, mere facts, 
and bureaucratic depersonalization. In a period of 
radical change, they could press for some enduring 
values amidst the flux. In a period focused on the 
new, they could remind the colleges of the virtues 
of teaching about the past. 

But they can do this only if they recognize the 
existence of rapid change as a new factor in the life 
of the nation's colleges; if they ask, ''How and what 
kind of change?" and not, " Why change?" 

"It isn't easy," said an alumnus from Utah. "It's 
like asking a farm boy to get used to riding an 
escalator all day long." 

One long-time observer, the editor of a distin- 
guished alumni magazine, has put it this way: 

"We — all of us — need an entirely new concept 
of higher education. Continuous, rapid change is 
now inevitable and normal. If we recognize that 
our colleges from now on will be perpetually chang- 
ing, but not in inexorable patterns, we shall be able 
to control the direction of change more intelligently. 
And we can learn to accept our colleges on a wholly 
new basis as centers of our loyalty and affection." 



The report on this and the preceding 15 
pages is the product of a cooperative en- 
deavor in which scores of schools, colleges, 
and universities are taking part. It was pre- 
pared under the direction of the group listed 
below, who form editorial projects for 
EDUCATION, a non-profit organization associ- 
ated with the American Alumni Council. 



DENTON BEAL 

Carnegie Institute of Technology 

DAVID A. BURR 

The University of Oklahoma 

DAN ENDSLEY 

Stanford University 

MARALYN O. GILLESPIE 

Swarthmore College 

CHARLES M. HELMKEN 

American Alumni Council 



GEORGE 0. KELLER 

Columbia University 

ALAN W. MACCARTHY 

The University oj Michigan 

JOHN I. MATTILL 

Massachusetts Institute of Technology 

KEN METZLER 

The University of Oregon 

RUSSELL OLIN 

The University of Colorado 

JOHN W. PATON 

Wesleyan University 



Naturally, in a report of such length and 
scope, not all statements necessarily reflect 
the views of all the persons involved, or of 
their institutions. Copyright © 1966 by Edi- 
torial Projects for Education, Inc. All rights 
reserved; no part may be reproduced without 
the express permission of the editors. Printed 
in U.S.A. 



ROBERT L. PAVTON 

Washington University 

ROBERT M. RHODES 

The University of Pennsylvania 

STANLEY SAPLIN 

New York University 

VERNE A. STADTMAN 

The University of California 

FREDERIC A. STOTT 

Phillips Academy, Andover 

FRANK J. TATE 

The Ohio State University 



CHARLES E. WIDMAYER 

Dartmouth College 

DOROTHY F. WILLIAMS 

Simmons College 

RONALD A. WOLK 

The Johns Hopkins University 

ELIZABETH BOND WOOD 

Sweet Briar College 
CHESLEY WORTHINGTON 

Brown University 



CORBIN GWALTNEY 

Executive Editor 



JOHN A. GROWL 
Associate Editor 



OPPORTUNITIES FOR LEARNING 

By SYD SALT 

Principal of Glenbrook South High School, Glenview, Illinois 




DR. SYD SALT, '51, '52 
ED. D. (Harvard) '60 

Almost fi\'e years ago this Jerseyite was present- 
ed with the possibilit\- of moving to Illinois to parti- 
cipate in tlie planning, organization, and establish- 
ment of a new high school to serve a midwestern 
community. The new institution would be unique 
in that it would be an effort to provide in one loca- 
tion a large number of the educational innovations 
which might characterize the 1960's. Fellow alumni 
have asked about our progress during the inter\en- 
ing years. The purpose of tliis report is to tell 
about the success or failure of a few of the pro- 
jects and to share some general observations. 

FLEXIBLE SCHEDULES-Glenbrook South High 
School was the first to institute a modular schedule 



showing a natural transition from a seven-period to 
a twent\'-three module flexible program. Basically, 
our day is broken into twenty-one modules of 
twent\- minutes each— with tsvo modules of fifteen 
minutes. This allows the School to offer thirty min- 
ute courses in driver education; forty minute courses 
in lecture areas; fifty-five minute courses for labora- 
tory programs; eighty minute courses for advance 
placement sections of English, math, foreign lan- 
guages, and social studies; and two-hour courses for 
all advanced placement responsibilities tliat involve 
laboratory work. Additionally, there are twenty- 
minute seminars scheduled in science throughout the 
da\' and there are some twent>-two points at which 
students may be scheduled for speech correction, 
remedial reading, libran,', use of the language la- 
boratory-, counseling, etc. The faculty has made an 
appraisal of this program, which was instituted four 
years ago. The result was an overwhelming support 
for its continuation and development. 

COMPETITION-A noticeable and healthy compe- 
tition exists among the high school districts. This 
sometimes is considered community pressure re- 
lated to college admissions, but more often it 
amounts to a wholesome concern for keeping up with 
the times. 

The newness of many schools in this area disallows 
the often false self-satisfaction of tradition. Our 
achievements with youth are measured by the suc- 
cesses of ver\' recent times and not the kudos of 
1930. The community' and the school were delighted 
to win the first NATION'S SCHOOLS award "for the 
proper provision for the educational needs of tlie 
communit)-." Nevertheless, the distinction of doing 
something a little better is important in this area 
with or without an award. We've \et to find a 
nearby high school wliich wouldn't be insulted by 
being considered "average". 

AUTONL\TION— Experience here suggests that auto- 
mation does not necessarily save money in the sense 
that the budget will be lower. To illustrate: when 
report cards and their mailers are prepared by ma- 
chine, there is a cost factor for the equipment and 



19 



operators. However, teachers are released from this 
clerical assignment and available for increased teach- 
ing service. When the computer operates for sche- 
duling advantages, administrators are released for 
other more ability-demanding considerations. Inci- 
dentally, even the attendance and athletics eligi- 
bility lists are prepared by an IBM program. Teach- 
ers do not see attendance registers. 

FINANCE— An educator from New Jersey stepping 
into this district would immediately be impressed 
with the manner in which schools are financed. 
This community is similar to many new well-to-do 
New Jersey communities. Nevertheless, it can be 



building bonds. The current ceiling in total is about 
$1.87. As long as the board of education can oper- 
ate with its present tax rate, it need never to go to 
the public for a referendum, other than for building 
construction purposes. A school district does not 
start at the $1.60 rate but considerably below that, 
and may move up toward the $1.60 maximum at a 
rate of $.21 or less per vote. A community such as 
Glenview, which has an industrial area on its out- 
skirts, tends to be more fortunate than those which 
do not. The national headquarters of Scott-Fores- 
man, Allstate Insurance, A. E. Nielsen, Culligan, are 
among the prominent tax ratables being constructed 
in this school district. This will improve our tax 




Glenbrook South High School 



shown that Glenview has spent over $1,000 per 
student each of the years that Glenbrook South 
High School has been operating. Our projected 
cost for next year is above the $1,100 mark. Part 
of the reason behind such evidence of strong school 
support is that educational funds are obtained on the 
basis of a continuing tax rate. The school budget 
does not go up for a community vote each year. 
We are allowed by law to tax up to $1.60 per one 
hundred dollars of assessed valuation for the in- 
structional phase of our expenses. Other rates are 
established for building operation, retirement, and 



base considerably and make less of a demand upon 
home property taxation, while decreasing the num- 
ber of times when the community would be called 
to vote an increase in the rate. 

WINDOWLESS CLASSROOMS-One of the char- 
acteristics of Glenbrook South High School is that it 
is designed with almost all classrooms windowless. 
This was done for a number of reasons. We are 
adjacent to the National Headquarters of the Naval 
and Marine Air Reserve Training Command. The 
aircraft would provide a sufficient number of sight 



20 



and sound distractions to present instructional prob- 
lems. A study has been made by our director of 
testing and research regarding teachers' feelings 
about teaching in windowless classrooms. In gen- 
eral, it can be stated that teachers who have ex- 
perienced in both windowed and windowless class- 
rooms tend to prefer the windowless classrooms. In 
some areas, such as architectural drawing, we have 
been able to measure an increase in student pro- 
ductixity. A group of outside consultants were 
asked to study a projective test given to students in 
an effort to assess their reactions to windowless 
rooms. Although the data is inconclusive, it would 
appear that there are some students who should be 



the summer school compared with schools wherein 
air-conditioning is not available. 

TEAM TEACHING FACILITIES-This is one area 
that seems to develop liand-in-hand with teacher 
understanding of modern techniques of instruction. 
The school has been equipped with sixteen rooms, 
each of which has one or more walls that open to 
change room size. The turning of keys set in motion 
the machine driven sound-proof folding walls. It is 
possible in two locations to make six rooms out 
of one large area. There is no doubt that the facili- 
ties tend to encourage the development of crea- 
tive instructional practices. The expenditure has 
proven to be worthwhile. The flexible facilities ac- 




Student Lounge and All-Glass Stairwell at Glenbrook South 



given greater opportunity to have their classes in 
windowed rooms. Further research regarding the 
emotional effects upon students is suggested. 

AIR CONDITIONING-This high school was one of 
the first of the northern schools to be fully air-con- 
ditioned. This principal can endorse the air-condi- 
tioning of schools. There is no question that the stu- 
dents can concentrate better during the early fall 
and late spring months. Additionally, the air-con- 
ditioning tends to encourage a higher enrollment for 



commodate interdepartmental and situational pro- 
grams, as well as collaborative teaching. Neverthe- 
less, we have a long way to go before ma.\imum 
utilization is made of the facilities. 

ADVANCED PLACEMENT-There are advanced 
placement courses in most academic areas at Glen- 
brook South. We belie\e this is ver\' important. It 
does increase learning opportunities and allow for 
the more able students to score well on the College 
Entrance E.xamination Board tests. The test is im- 



21 




portant. Striking as it may seem, this School with its 
first senior class had youngsters admitted to Har- 
vard, Yale, Stanford, Radcliffe, Smith, and many 
others— before notice of accreditation was received 
from the North Central Association of Secondary 
Schools and Colleges. However, the CEEB test re- 
sults were available. 

SPECIAL EDUCATION-A model program has 
been established to provide for educationally men- 
tally handicapped students. These are the young- 
sters with approximately one-half to three-fourths 
"normal" intellectual ability. Basically, our plan in- 
volves a compartmentalization of the space given to 
the program. The central area is a classroom for 
purposes of teaching academic subjects to fifteen 
youngsters. To the right of this room is a kitchen for 
basic home economic skills, to the rear is a storage 
area adjacent to a multipurpose art section, and an- 
other compartment is provided for conference and 
study purposes. We schedule the retarded children 
into physical education, art, music, and other pro- 
grams almost immediately. As soon as the youngster 
has met the basic level of achievement for place- 
ment into a course in another area, we do it. There 
is a work program for these children and they are 
supervised jointly by our specialist and the cooper- 
ating employer. 

NON-GRADEDNESS-Although this School has not 
publicized the fact, the theory behind our curriculum 
organization gives recognition to the significance 
of non-gradedness. We do have speech and reading 
specialists who provide services which in many other 
districts would only be available to elementary stu- 
dents. We believe that it is our job to pick the stu- 
dents up at that level of achievement that we 
find them. This means that we do teach in our high 
school what might be ordinary to some elemen- 
tary schools. We also teach college courses. Never- 



theless, we have a sufficient number of levels so that 
a youngster may be moved to a group appropriate 
to the point of achievement he has reached. Visitors 
to our building are sometimes surprised to learn that 
a student can complete the algebra course in six 
months, one year, two years, in some cases points 
in between these measures. This is in large part 
our recognition of the individual differences among 
our students. 

GUIDANCE— Because of the modular schedule we 
can provide group guidance almost at will. We 
merely take two modules and put them together to 
create an extra period. This is an over-simplification 
perhaps, but it might be mentioned that all aca- 
demic-lecture courses are either preceded or fol- 
lowed by a fifteen-minute module for individual and 
small group study. These modules are then united 
for the purposes of group guidance when neces- 
sary. We believe in Dr. Conant's recommendation 
that there be one counselor for three hundred or 
fewer students. In addition to general purpose coun- 
selors, we have a full time social worker, a half- 
time college placement counselor, and the services 
of a psychologist. 

HEAD TEACHERS-The school was designed with 
departmental leadership in mind. Our department 
chairmen ai-e referred to as head teachers— inasmuch 
as each one teaches at least one course; otherwise, 
we have modified our head teacher program so that 
the functions of the department heads are primarily 
conventional in nature. Original plans involved hav- 
ing a head teacher for each of tlie 4 schools of 
600 students each at Glenbrook South. We've econ- 
omized in this regard. 

DISTRICT ORGANIZATION-Articulation can be 

a very complex problem in our locality'. The high 
schools and elementary schools have different boards 
of education. The elementary (kindergarten through 
grade eight) district does not have sending lines 
that are co-terminous with those of the high school. 
Therefore, a junior high school serving most of a 
communit\- may send its graduates to four high 
schools. Our high school district, like many others, 
serves a geographic square (Township) and has 
a student enrollment from many communities and 
parts of communities. 

CIVIL DEFENSE— The central area of our physical 
education section is reinforced concrete to a thick- 
ness to survive the impact of an atomic blast. Our 
student body could be contained there, but we're 



22 



still seeking a satisfactory method for filtering ra- 
diation from the air. 

INDEPENDENT STUDY-A modest plan has been 
instituted wherein students are selected to pursue 
special programs agreed upon by a faculty- advisor. 
The student is provided with a special identifica- 
tion card which excuses him from all study halls 
and, on occasion, classes. 

INTERDEPARTMENTAL, SITUATIONAL, TEAM 
TEACHING there isn't a great deal of this, but an 
example is when the modular schedule is employed 
to allow a team of teachers with secretarial aid to 
be scheduled for two months for treatment of a 
specific need, such as explaining the fine arts pro- 
gram to freshmen. An extra period is created from 
study modules and the team can involve representa- 
tives from the areas of art, music, social studies, 
drama and speech. Secretarial assistance can be 
provided on a temporary basis for the team. We 
do not give course credit for the situational pro- 
grams. Usually the program will be aimed at an en- 
tire grade level. 

OUTSIDE AID— Prior to the principal's arrival, a 
modest grant from the Educational Facilities La- 
boratories, an organization supported by the Ford 
Foundation, was received for the purpose of finding 
new ideas and practices that would result in a 
building with the most modern, yet defensible, con- 
struction features. Hopefully other persons with 
building concerns would see Glenbrook South. Our 
visitors from out-of-state and foreign countries have 
been numerous. 

TEACHER SALARY-Beginning teachers without 
experience start at $5,500 to $6,500, depending on 
which of 7 classifications they fit, from B.A. to Ph.D. 
A department head's top salarv' would be $12,500 or 
$13,200— depending upon whether he had an M.A. 
or Ph.D. Teachers without minor administrative as- 
signments are paid a top salary from $11,672 to 
$12,383, depending upon preparation. A generous 
extra-pay guide for other duties is used. If one of 
our staff substitute teaches (which we allow but do 
not require), he is paid at tlie rate of $5.00 per 
period. 

INSTRUCTIONAL MATERIALS CENTER-One 

of the concepts embodied in our organization is 
that the library would only be a part of the 
area set aside for material and human resources. 




The instructional material center includes the cen- 
tral repository' for printed materials; as well as our 
audio-\isual aids section with facilities for a direc- 
tor and a secretary, the faculty library, a research 
section, and a classroom for library instruction. 

These are but a few of the characteristics of this 
institution. Perhaps another time it might be pos- 
sible to report on the seminar program and its 
facilities, our domed and circular gymnasium, com- 
plete with indoor track, and basketball seating fa- 
cilities for 2,500 spectators; an unorthodox design 
for a swimming pool under construction— with 800 
seats for the fans; programmed instruction, provi- 
sions for educational T-V; unusual course offerings 
available in a system which employs a flexible sched- 
schedule; student awards (Merit Scholars, Westing- 
house Science Talent award winners, in aca- 
demics National Council of Teacher of English win- 
ners, etc.) and athletics (Conference champs in 
football, our 15-1 basketball team, etc.), recruitment 
of personnel in an area where the supply of highly 
qualified teachers is relatively low; construction fea- 
tures such as four team teaching stations in a 1,500 
seat auditorium; the student radio stations at schools 
in Northern Illinois, our independent study program, 
plans for development of the 80-acre site, and a 
bundle of matters related to athletics and other stu- 
dent activities. 

Some folks think we're trying to build a haven for 
the creative, the imaginative, the innovators; and 
perhaps we are. 

A credit should go to one of our MSC alumni. Dr. 
Ed. J. Meade, Jr., who first brought the proposed 
Glenbrook project to my attention. 

All tliis has its advantages and disadvantages, as is 
the case in New Jersey. Many wonderful innova- 
tions and traditions can be found in the Garden 
State. Add to that considerations of terrain, climate, 
and cultural traditions, and we'll admit that in 
New Jersey's o\\n way it also is a fine location for 
service in education. 



23 



People of the Wind 

By Katherine Otto Stacy, '56 

The little girl looked around. 
I like this place so much 
she said. 
I like it because it is high and 
I can look over the edge and there 
is never anyone here 
Down very jar are houses and trees, 
hut here there is only sky and one tree 

hut it is too jar over the edge 

and too small to hold me 
And I do not jeel the cold when I 
come here 

But hejore she lejt she 

stretched to touch the tree 

as she had stretched to touch it 

The other times she had been there. 

She could not; it was too jar 

over the edge. 

Home was warm, and a woman 

was bending over the table straightening 

a cloth. 
The woman said how was school today. 



The little girl started to say it was just 

the same but then said 

The teacher singled me out in class today. 
Mommy. She told me my work was 
better than anyone else's and she was 
so glad to have me in class because 
she liked me. 

The woman looked at her. 

She is doing it again 

she thought. 

She is always doing it and I don't know 

what to do about it. 

The next day in school the little girl's 
jriend asked her how her puppy was. 




24 



The little girl said 

He is a very unusual puppy. 

He talks to me and does some of my 

homework. 

He is a smart puppy but he is not so good 
in spelling and I have to correct him 

Her friend thought 

It is not true and it makes her sound funny. 
She is a funny person. 

In class, the teacher, after talking about 
occupations, said to her children 

Now tell me what some of your parents do. 

The little girl said 

My father studies about insects. 
He has a little plot of ground roped 
off in our backyard and he studies 
them with charts and a magnifying 
glass. He knoics all about them and 
he is still always learning more. 

The teacher thought 

This has gone too far. We keep allowing 
her to continue and it is not good for 
her or the rest of the children. I will 
check on it tonight. 

The little girl came home from school later 
than usual that day. The way home 
had been so full of wind and puddles 
with stones in them that she had stopped 
and tvatchcd the people living in the wind 
and puddles. They had led her 
to the edge 
and she had stopped and watched the tree 

and stretched for it; 
but she had not touched it- 
It was still too far over the edge. 

Home was ivarm but this time 
The woman was not bending over the table: 
She was standing by the wall with the 
teacher and another man. 

What is wrong today 

she thought. 
It is so strange in the liouse 
It is as if the window was left open 
and cold air has come all over the room. 



Hello 
she said. 

Dear, 

said the womun. 
We want to talk to you. 

Yes 



the little girl said. 

The man started talking; his voice was 
low and quiet. 

I do not trust you 

she thought. 
I do not think that you will know 

what you are talking about. 

He was saying we have come to talk 
to you about the stories you are telling. 

What stories 
she said. 

The stories about your dog and your 
home and yourself. Why you do not 
even have a dog 

he answered. 

I do not even have a dog? 

she said. And then— 
And I do not have a father who studies 
insects or a teacher who tells me she likes 
me because I do so well? 

No 

the man said. 

I have slippers with rabbit ears on them 
and a picture of a running horse, 

she offered. 
They do not mean anything except that 
you have slippers and a picture of 
a running horse 

he replied. 

Then it is that I was just mistaken 
I thought I had the other things and 
I teas only mistakcti? I had forgotten. 



she pleaded. 



No 



25 



the man said. 

You were not mistaken and you had not 
forgotten; you knew it wasn't true and 
you said it was. 

All of it? 

she asked. 
All of it 

he answered. 
Yes 
she said. 

It was late hut the little girl could not leave. 
The height of the ground icas comforting 
and the night sky was so large. 

Finally 

she stood up and again stretched out 

to touch the tree. 

She stretched until she felt that 

her feet were no longer on the ground. 

This time her hands curved around its 

rough surface; she did not hear its crack. 

I have reached it- 
she said. 




THIS IS MY HOME 

Gaunt trees hold the fading day, 
And darkness pours into some street; 
I find a path along the way,— 
Beyond, a house— ivhere four will meet. 

( The rich glow of a wintry hearth. 
And the kindliest smiles on earth- 
Soft lamps within a shaded room 
Where spirits frighten hack the gloom 
A little girl holds to your hand- 
Then mind meets mind; eyes understand. ) 

Ann Wolfert, '33 



26 



I 



THE COOPERATING TEACHER: A FACTOR IN TEACHER 

EDUCATION 



By ROSE SENA STAHNTEN, '48 
Principal, Grover Cleveland School, Hillside 




Rose S. Stahnten 

The student teaching experience can be a tn'ing 
ordeal. A time for growth becomes a time of disillu- 
sionment despite the well meaning efforts of the 
college student and cooperating teacher. 

The college prepares the future teacher to ad- 
just to various types of teaching programs, but the 
responsibility for interpreting the particular school 
system rests with the cooperating teacher. Too often 
the role of the cooperating teacher is vaguely de- 
fined and the efforts of even the most competent are 
not fruitful. Concentration in seven areas would 
give direction to these efforts. 

—A good cooperating teacher analyzes his 
own motivational factors in accepting a student 



teacher. Guiding a student requires time, effort 
and responsibility, and does not mean an oppor- 
tunity to divide the teaching load. If other duties 
or concerns such as illness, family problems, col- 
lege courses, etc., will not permit this extra ex- 
penditure of energy, this assignment should be 
postponed until attention can be devoted to the 
student teacher and his problems. 

—The interested cooperating teacher accepts re- 
sponsibility for making the student a part of the 
school program. The student should be provided 
with a desk or comer for equipment. Familiarity 
with school policies and routines is necessary if 
the student teacher is to develop confidence in his 
new situation. Such matters as homework, grad- 
ing, and attendance should be carefully reviewed. 
Alerting the student about PTA meetings, curri- 
culum meetings, and faculty meetings that re- 
quire his attendance helps the student understand 
his obligations in the total school program. In- 
formation about lunch facilities and faculty' smok- 
ing rules can make his brief stay more pleasant. 
Schools var>' in so many details that the student 
needs a specific orientation. 

—The cooperating teacher who accepts the col- 
lege supervisor as a partner with mutual pro- 
fessional concerns establishes a good working rap- 
port for all involved. The student should not be 
permitted to pit one against the other. Agree- 
ment in standards for lesson plans and classroom 
responsibilities will set reasonable boundaries with- 
in which the student is expected to perform. 

—The student teacher has a right to expect guid- 
ance during the intern period. A sincere cooperat- 
ing teacher will avoid the "Let's see you perform!" 
attitude and will not expect the student to be an 
accomplished teacher. The student has much to 
learn. .\ major criticism about student teachers is 
that thc\' do not know how to observe a teaching 
situation. If this is so, be definite about details 



27 



of the lesson the student should observe as you 
teach. 

—A confident cooperating teacher will give the 
young student opportunities to experiment wth 
some of the good ideas he received in his col- 
lege training. This aspect of improving teaching 
methods should be encouraged. There are many 
ways to teach a good lesson and many variations. 
The novice who reveals a real desire to improve 
the techniques of the profession should not be 
stymied. 

—The need for evaluation should not be over- 
looked. Periodically the student needs to discuss 
strengths and weaknesses with the one who ob- 
serves him at close range. The cooperating teacher 
sets a definite program for improving performances. 
Growth in the student's preparation, classroom in- 



struction, and classroom management requires 
careful analysis. At no point in his progress should 
the student have to speculate about his accom- 
plishments. 

—Last, but not the least of the seven, a confident 
cooperating teacher is loyal to the school he re- 
presents. The best aspects of the school program 
should be emphasized. Highlighting the inadequa- 
cies of the school system, or undermining the 
work of administrators and fellow teachers with 
petty gossip and criticism serves no useful pur- 
pose. A positive approach in improving the pro- 
fession fosters an enthusiastic attitude for the 
newcomer. 

The cooperating teacher is a key factor in the 
training of future teachers. The more effective the 
role, the better the future of the profession. 



i 



DREAMER BORN 

I fear too much with dreams I spend the time 

Which others use for betterment of self; 

For surely life must shame those books of mine. 

That form a solid row upon my shelf. 

How well I know that men will laugh in scorn, 

At what I turned myself from life to hold. 

I smile and sigh, for I am dreamer born. 

And count my fantasies as miser's gold. 

And when in idle thought my mind dwells long 

On things which men would wrest from fortune's 
grip, 

I find the bonds of solitude too strong 

For me to loose, and back to dreams I slip. 

Let others crowd to proud ambition's door, 
But give me dreams, I do not wish for more. 

George Harriston, '49 



MIRAGE 

The ocean waves come rolling in along the beach. 
A great white froth of surf, surging up over the land. 
The shore is empty, save for one lone man 
Walking slowly, just out of the ocean's reach, 
A speck of motion soon to disappear beyond the 

crest of a distant hill. 
Now the rising surf laps over the shore where the 

solitary figure passed. 
And footsteps, left behind in the soft sand, are 

quickly erased by the waves 
As identity is effaced by time. 

Ruth E. Ivers, '61 



28 



College Heights 

Continued from Page Eight 

Everyone else had been through the same thing, and 
the neighbors came in and offered wise suggestions, 
all quite diverse. Somewhere among these ideas, 
you would find one that worked, and then all you 
had to do was to clean up the mess and go on with 
your life. But company? You always had company. 
It was wonderful if you were facing some domestic 
crisis and needed help; but you had company 
whether you needed anything or not. "There was al- 
ways somebody just coming; somebody just going; 
and somebody there." And now, nineteen years 
later, they all tell >ou they just loved it. 

It is a temptation to cite a few names of former 
citizens of College Heights who have become fa- 
mous; but that could be very misleading. There 
were nearly two hundred people; and they are now 
scattered far and wide. While the bulk of them 
seem to have stayed in education, these people- 
husbands and wives— have really fanned out to pene- 
trate almost all of the areas of the modern world. 
The ones that are deans and professors and depart- 
ment heads and school administrators are a com- 
forting lot to hear about, because most of our rea- 
ders can "place" such positions and can evaluate 
the importance of such posts. But the ones who are 
in research; the ones who are "with" the big corpora- 
tions; the ones who are doing things in the business 
world— these are more difficult to evaluate. And the 
ones we can't even find, might be bigger than all 
of the others. Hence it would be well to say that 
the aggregation of people who once lived in Col- 
lege Heights on the Montclair campus have gone on 
to enrich the whole societ>' of which they arc a 
part, showing an extraordinarily high degree of 
leadership wherever they have gone. And some part 
of their success must surely have roots in the great 
experience of communal living in a combination 
mud-puddle and dust-bowl, but in the midst of a 
group of people all of whom braced their backs 
and faced down their adversities in their determina- 
tion to get ahead. 

But this group of people had previously been se- 
lected by fate to play an important role in their 
own time. So the College Heights communitv' can- 
not claim more than a share of the credit. These were 
the veterans who came back from the four comers 
of the earth, to start life all over again. They had 
seen enough of life and enough of the world, so 
that they could not easily be deluded. But they 



were— more than most college generations— reaUsts. 
They were hungry for what college can mean in a 
person's life. They went after it, and they ate it 
up. Their presence on the campus started a renais- 
sance in the war-weary curriculum, and in the 
faculty as well. They brought a ferment of intel- 
lectual curiosity and of mental and spiritual inten- 
sity that vitalized the college generation what they 
came to dominate. The faculty almost immediately 
became alert, to be teaching this new kind of person. 
Some of the returning veterans were faculty (and 
among them, some lived in this same College 
Heights). What they imparted to the scene— students 
and faculty alike— was excitement. These were ex- 
citing days not only because the veterans had come 
home, but because these people were committing 
themselves to the career of education. 

The funny buildings of College Heights have been 
torn down and carted oflF, leaving no mark to 
show, even, where they once stood. But the former 
residents of those buildings gave to the college it- 
self a distinct lift while they were in it; and after- 
wards they and their compatriots from the other 
colleges— their whole generation— gave to the entire 
educational world a new sense of direction. 



FIRE HYDRANTS 

Red paint chipped and faded. 

They stand on sidewalks throughout America. 

Stopping-places for canines. 

Lifeline for firemen. 

But to children 

on hot summer days, something different. 
Turned on with fathers' wrenches. 
Their content pours into the street. 
Urchins back their little fannies up to the spout; 
And water arches over their backs, 
And falls like rain on comrades. 
They run through puddles yelling and 
Laughing, oblivious of the heat, until 
Someone yells "cops," and they scatter. 

Jerrold L. Jeronen, '6. 



29 



By LAWRENCE H. CONRAD 

Professor Emeritus of English 

Most of the interest in the field of education is in 
teaching rather than in learning. As a consequence, 
we tend to overlook or even to forget the vast 
amount of knowledge acquired without supervision 
by earnest and determined people throughout the 
world. What is learned in the academies is a small 
fraction indeed of the learning by which mankind 
advances. And tlie metliods and procedures fol- 
lowed in the schools are by no means the prevailing 
ones in the world of education. Hence in setting 
up our programs of "general education," and in re- 
vising and improving our educational system gen- 
erally, we ought to draw rather more upon man- 
kind's practical experience in learning than we have 
been inclined to do. We ought to explore the larger 
warehouses of learning, surely, before we press our 
final search of the smaller receptacles into which 
we have been peering. 

All of the trades and occupations of the human 
race; all of the arts and sciences by which men have 
lived and have made their lives pleasant, were com- 
municated for many thousands of years from genera- 
tion to generation without benefit of a schoolroom or 
of the appurtenances of modem academies. In fact, 
in the commonest kind of learning, the teacher and 



more than half of them will need to be answered 
in any given situation. 

1. What is this thing? 

2. How did it get her? 

3. What forces produced this result? 

4. What relation does this have to the 

other things round about it? 

5. What is its age, its origin, its place 

in nature or in life? 

6. How does it work? 

7. Of what use is it? 

8. How do you know? 

9. Are you sure? 

These are the questions underlying mankind's 
whole search for knowledge. Learning, of course, 
consists in finding answers for the ones that apply in 
any given situation. In early childhood, these ques- 
tions are flung upward and are promptly answered 
by some adult. Such answers are seldom perma- 
nently enlightening or satisfying. But it is true that 
some individuals continue tliroughout life the prac- 
tice of asking their questions aloud and of accepting 
without much discrimination the answers that are 
forthcoming. The most vital and useful learning, how- 
ever, occurs when the learner happens to find the 



THE REQUISITES OF 



the pupil are involved in some piece of work they 
are doing together. Strife and warfare have been 
called the greatest incentives to research and the 
discovery of knowledge. By the same reasoning, 
work and friendship have all along constituted the 
true "fellowship in learning." 

Wherever learning takes place freely and readily 
and in notable measure, the requisites of learning 
are being met. If we wish to see the steps by which 
learning is accomplished, we should study it in its 
natural state. It may be that neither a teacher nor 
a classroom is essential. The primary impulse be- 
hind learning is a curiosity within the individual, 
a desire to know, an urge to question some part of 
the environment. In school or out, and at what- 
ever age level, the learner asks himself questions 
concerning everything. The questions he may need 
to ask are only a few in number; and usually no 



answers to his own questions, largely by his own 
efforts. He may have to search long; but he should 
not wait long before starting, for there are not 
many different ways of proceeding. All of the ways 
by which we acquire knowledge may be reduced to 
a mere handful, and only the most exhaustive in- 
quiry will involve all of them. Ever)' learner 
should have some experience with the common pro- 
cedures, and should be able to move nimbly from 
one to another of them. 

1. By making careful and even minute observa- 

tions. 

2. By making further "check-up" visits to the 

spot. 

3. By exploring the surrounding area. 

4. By finding and comparing other examples of 

the same kind of thing. 

5. By reflection: organizing his impressions in 

his own mind. 



30 



6. By discussion: two or tliree learners com- 

paring impressions and thoughts about 
the tiling obser\ed. 

7. By study: in handbooks, guide books, refer- 

ence books. 

8. By consultation with someone who knows. 

Of course, he may do a poor job of observing, 
of exploring, of reflecting, or of studying. A poor 
job will get him a poor answer. A good job in- 
volves some training; and here, it would seem, is 
the opportunit\- of the schools to pro\ide exercises 
in the processes that are truly fundamental in learn- 
ing. Education ought to ask itself what basic skills 
everyone ought to learn so that, possessing them, 
he may be able to conduct his own learning ex- 
periences, in or out of school, with or without a 
teacher. The first task of the schools should be to 
teach those skills. 

1. Everyone should have a technique for mak- 

ing systematic observations. 

2. Everyone should have a technique for gen- 

eral problem-solving. i 

3. Everyone should have techniques for weigh- 

ing, measuring, estimating distances, 
orienting himself, etc., without instru- 
ments. 

4. Everyone should have an ability to draw- 

to make his own record of observations, 

GENERAL LEARNING 




LAWRENCE H. CONRAD 



and for conveying to others an accurate 
sense of shapes and relationships. 

5. Everyone should have an ability to make 

completely reliable computations, both 
on paper and "in his head," using arith- 
metical processes. 

6. E\er\one should have an ability to reason, 

both inductively and deductively, and 
to follow the reasoning of others. 

7. Everyone should have an abilitv' to read 

orders and reports and extended ex- 
planatory material, with enlightening re- 
sults. 

8. Ever\one should have an abilit\- to convince 

others, both in speech and in writing, of 
the \alidit>- of his own conclusions. 
But most of all, there are habits underlying learn- 
ing, without which the learner could do little more 
than memorize what he is told and what he reads. 
Unless tliese habits are instilled earlv in tlie learn- 



ing process, and are maintained to the end, we 
shall have a sorry return for the time and effort 
we put into education. 

1. Alertness: the habit of being aware, of 

noticing everything. 

2. Resourcefulness: the practice of bringing all 

of one's knowledge to a task, and one's 
shrewdest thinking. 

3. Persistence: the inclination to continue when 

no immediate results appear; and to press 
further when convictions are beginning 
to form. 

4. Earnestness: the kind of devotion to one's 

interests that overcomes timidit\- and en- 
ables one to carr>' a wortliy inquir>- to 
the door of the final authorit)' on the 
subject, if need be. 

5. Integrity: unwillingness to cheat oneself, to 

help an\one else to do so, or to profit 
from any dishonest practice. 



31 



The production of these ti-aits and quahties would 
be an aim that could easily unify all of the various 
goals of education. Every step of progress made 
would be reflected in acceleration of pace along the 
paths of learning. Also, as it happens, the formation 
of these habits would constitute a sound character- 
training. Heretofore, character education has been 
associated with moral and religious aims, and the 
schools have feared to give more than lip-service 
to it. But if it can be undertaken for social and 
secular ends, and if, undertaken in that spirit, char- 
acter-education makes a sound contribution to the 
growth and adaptation of the individual, secular 
learning may find at last the anchorage for which 
it has groped since the beginning of the Christian 
era. 

All of the requisites of general learning come 
into play when a group of children with a group 
leader have gathered around a plant, a rock, or an 
animal's nest, to ask their own questions about the 
phenomenon, and to seek their own answers. 

1. What is this thing? 

2. How did it get here? 

3. What forces produced this result? 

The questions are asked because the children want 
to know; the observations are made immediately, 
on the spot; discussion springs up among them, 
they argue, and some conclusions are suggested. Ul- 
timately, the inquiry will be supplemented by ref- 
erence to books, pictures, or similar situations else- 
where in nature. It is not like reading the whole 
thing out of a book or hearing about it in a lecture. 
It is very real, for the children learn by adding to 
their permanent store of knowledge, facts they have 
themselves discovered and verified. They believe 
what they learn in this manner; they regard it as 
important; and they put it to use in their lives. 

This procedure is not restricted to use in the 
country or in the woods, from which situations we 
have drawn the previous examples. It is equally use- 
ful in town. In the city, the group might gather 
about a hydrant, to learn of the city water supply, 
or to inquire into the health program of their com- 
munity, or to learn what is being done for the pro- 
tection of life and property from the dangers of 
fire. 

1. What is this thing? 

2. How did it get here? 

They might explore the operation of the national 
government in all of our lives by simply gathering 
around a letter-box and commencing the same in- 



quiry. Or they might go to the very depths of the 
local government by gathering near an intersection 
where a policeman is directing traflBc. 

1. What is this thing? 

2. How did it get here? 

3. What relation does it have to the 

other things round about it? 

4. How does it work? 

5. Of what use is it? 

Or they might stop beside a pubHc service utility- 
pole, an open manhole in the street, a pohce-patrol 
car, a storm-sewer opening, a fire-alarm box, a side- 
walk grating, a public telephone booth, a billboard, 
a jail, a truck that is loading or unloading, workmen 
on a scaffold, a cemetery, a church, or a window dis- 
play. Wherever the quest for knowledge commences 
in reality— and not in a mere theory— all the re- 
quisites of general learning come normally into play. 
And the full technique, once made familiar, is use- 
ful to the learner in nearly every kind of situation 
throughout all of his life. 

Young people who have received such training as 
this could enter any one of the learned professions 
with some confidence. They would be sharp enough 
of eye and mind to continue their professional 
growth indefinitely. They would have a high sense 
of honor. They would always seek to know what 
they were doing, and would have ample means of 
justifying, to themselves and to others, the way they 
had chosen to spend their lives. 

Young people who have received such training as 
this could step into the business world and make 
themselves somehow useful at once. They would be 
fully awake and aware. They would possess basic 
skills that have many applications. They would be 
reliable and self-reliant. They would be rapid learn- 
ers of anything new. They would not be easily cor- 
rupted. Best of all, they would know a reliable 
method of thinking, of reflecting, of deducing. In 
the more advanced areas of thought, they would 
have to learn to put their habits and skills together 
in new combinations; and there is no guarantee 
that all of them could make such adaptations. But 
in the world of practical affairs, everyone tiained 
in the foundations of learning can acquire some 
knowledge, and can therefore have mastery over 
some small part of the work of the world. 

Notliing, we may suppose, could make a greater 
difference than that. And nothing could serve as a 
stronger argument for revising the educational sys- 
(Continucd on Page Thirty-four) 



32 



THE THREE GENE MALESKAS 



By WILLIAM A. CALDWELL 



It is appropriate to start with a couple of books. 

The Story of Education, by Carroll Atkinson 
and Eugene T. Malcska; Chilton Books, 
Chestnut at Fifty-sixth Street, Philadel- 
phia 39; 492 pages; $10. 

This is the first one, and it is one of the heaviest 
books I have ever set out to read. It weighs two 
pounds flat on the household postal scales. Per- 
haps I should sa>' no more. This book may be- 
come a national cause or a national scandal. Its 
central argument is that the destiny of mankind 
depends on the success or failure of the schools in 
your town. That argument uill ha\e to be examined, 
pleaded, and disputed in a dozen national conferenc- 
es. It is too much for me to handle alone. So I 
propose to turn now to the second book, which comes 
closer to being within the scope of m\' endeavors. 

Sun and Shadow, by Eugene T. Maleska; 
Fine Editions Press, 210 East 39th Street, 
New York 16; 64 pages; $3.50. 

This is a small volume of poems. So I say this 
is really more like it. The man who is behind both 
of these books must surely be a man of parts. Let 
me tell you about him. 

Call him Sam Lake. That's what from time to time 
he calls himself. One of the Eugene T. Maleskas who 
live at 20 Weil Place, Cresskill, New Jersey, is a 
tolerably terrifying scholar: Assistant Superintend- 
ent of Schools of New York City, with his Doctorate 
in Education from the Harvard Graduate School of 
Education; Shankland Memorial Scholar at Harvard, 
specializing in the acculturation of Puerto Ricans 
into the New York community; former Principal of 
schools in New York, and teacher at Hunter College 
and the University of Vermont. That's one Maleska. 

There's another. The second is a poet, somewhat 
shy, somewhat tentative— occasionally so shy that he 
signs his verse with the name of Sam Lake, which 
you observe is an anagram on the name Maleska. 
He was a friend of the late great Negro poet Coun- 
tee Cullen during the eighteen years he was a 
teacher and principal in Harlem. . . . "He was a 
singer caroling in dark," goes the final poem in 
Sun and Shadow. The last lines of the verse and 
book: "And though his \oice will rise no more on 



earth, its trembling echoes wing him to rebirth." 

That Maleska lives with his wife and two children 
on Weil Place, commutes, worries about the school 
system, and after all these years writes love lyrics 
for the lady he's married to. 

There's a third Maleska, who is said to be one of 
the nation's foremost constructors of crossword puz- 
zles, and can prove it by his editing along with 
Margaret Farrar of the New York Times, of a book 
of puzzles for children. His own puzzles go into tlie 
Times and other papers, and are to be found in 
all of the books that collect puzzles in book form; 
and he is noted as an innovator, having invented 
new types of crosswords as he went along. The 
Farrar-Maleska book is called "Junior Crosswords," 
and it is published by Simon and Schuster. John 
Ciardi insists there is a relationship between power 




EUGENE T. MALESKA, '37 

Receiving Honorar\- Doctorate at the College 

at Commencement in 1963 



33 



as a poet and command of vocabulary, but the argu- 
ment is diflBcult; let it go. Well, what sort of English 
does an educator write? Public School 169 is a Man- 
hattan school composed of Negro children and 27 
different nationalities of white children. Maleska, 
who knows it well, writes of it. 

P. S. 169 

Who wanders in will look on more than school: 
For here the young teach action to the old. 
In every room the ancient Golden Rule 
Becomes ahve and stands as only gold. 

They need no rule, these children- 
black and white— 
Who sit together, walk with arms entwined; 
So close to God they still reflect His sight; 
Not yet the dust of years has made them bhnd. 

Maleska writes much of the city, much of the 
blackboard jungle which he plainly loves. He has 
a way of looking at himself: 

Though she who bore me had no others, 

The paradox is reconciled: 

Because of Him who gave me brothers 

I never was an only child. 

And looking at a countryside you may not have 
seen, having looked at it daily: 

Late afternoon was gunmetal gray 

Over river water. 

Heav>'-coated, it oozed inside the pores 

And spread 

Across the heart; 

Into a slot behind the Palisades 

Slipped a nickel-plated sun. 

And sometimes dramatic, he paints his memor}^ of 

the fire at Fletcher's farm : 

Old Fletcher's gone— his house, his bones have 

gone; 
The up-and-coming roam the hdll instead 
And fret about their mortgages and cars. 
But none of them has ever known the dread 
Of stallions streamed with fire careering down 
To writhe in screaming death beneath the stars. 

Eugene Maleska is a various man, able to wonder 
if the empty shells along a beach had hoped as 
much as he before a winged invasion came their 
way, able to shrug over new roads and wrecking 



balls. "Forget forever, if you can, and let the road 
go through." It is murderous to pick at a poet, 
whose business is to say a thing as briefly and well 
as it can be said; but this is not to praise Sam Lake. 
It is only to say he's there, and to let you know 
and help wonder. 

General Learning 

Continued from Page Thirty-two 

tem along common-sense lines. We know enough 
about learning— and about the learning process— to 
enable us to bring our educational program, from 
nursery school to the university, into line with its 
one chief purpose: the promotion of learning in 
boys and girls, men and women, in all the walks of 
life. And if they learn more out of school than they 
learn in school, it is a sad commentary on the way 
our curriculum is organized. 

Littlefield 

Continued from Page Six 

She installed her father and sister in a big 
barn of a house in Middlebur>' while she was 
director of tlie French Chateau, caring for them 
between duties. 

She resigned herself to never having a Ph. D. 
because of damage done to her eyes while she 
was working on medieval manuscripts at Co- 
lumbia. 

She lived alone in Great Notch for years after 
she was eighty', reading Greek, tutoring young 
people, glorying in those occasions when she 
could come back home to the campus for an 
Alumni gathering or a Christmas Open House, 
or a ground-breaking, or a dedication. 

There was a toughness in her that made diflBcul- 
ties unimportant. She was always on top of her life, 
clear-eyed, optimistic, and loving. 

Such loyalty and devotion and strength of spirit 
are not ordinary. These were recognized as special 
qualities in a special person. She brought out the 
best in many of us. There was the time, after her re- 
tirement, when a hardy group of faculty' members 
volunteered to paint her house which. Dr. Part- 
ridge said, had not felt the gentle touch of a 
brush for fifteen years! Willing hands did the job 



34 



on Saturday mornings in appreciation of what Ethel 
Littlefield liad done for Montclair State. 

Other gestures of love and friendship followed 
when there was need. But it is not what we did for 
her that matters; rather what she did for us. 

She allowed us to see for many years how nobly 
a good woman can conduct herself in trying circ- 
umstances. She was disciplined, warm, cheerful, 
when man\- would have despaired. She \\'as loyal, 
honest and kind, when she might have been bitter. 
She was grateful for her mind, her work, her sen- 
sitivity, and she made these productive. She loved 
with youngness of heart Greek, philology, her white 
cat Kiah, apple pie, port wine, Dickens, France, 
fine weather, College Hall— and all of you who were 
in her classes. 

We will remember her long and fondly. 

In the spring of 1948, she gave to the Montclair 
Quarterly a poem she had written in anticipation 
of her retirement. It says beautifully all the import- 
ant things. For the next eighteen years, Ethel Little- 
field lived out the bright and dauntless spirit of 
that poem. Her life came to a close on January 21, 
1966. Herewith is her poem. 

I Will Wear My Years Like a Crown 
By E. F. L. 

Treading the downward grade 

Of life with unfaltering pace, 
Undaunted and unafraid, 

I will look old age in the face. 

I will hold up my head to the light 

With never a look cast down 
To the shades of the coming night; 

I will wear my years like a crown. 

And no one shall bid me cease 

In the work that is life and breath, 
Renewal and rest and release: 

No one or notliing, save death. 

Curriculum Vitae: 

1880 Born in Maiden, Massachusetts, August 

13. 

1899 Graduated from Thayer Academy, South 

Braintree, Massachusetts. 



1899 Awarded a four year scholarship to 

Tufts College. 

1903 Granted A.B. and .'V.M. degrees by 

Tufts College. 

1903-1907 Principal, Douse High School, Sherboin, 
Massachusetts. 

1907-1910 Robinson Seminary, Exeter, New Hamp- 
shire. 

1910-1914 Hartford High School, Hartford, Con- 
necticut. 

1914-1922 Chairman, French Department, Arling- 
ton High School, Arlington, Massachu- 
setts. 

1922-1924 Chairman, French and Latin Depart- 
ments, Washington School, New York 
City. 

1924-1925 Chairman, French Department, Elmira 
College, Elmira, New York. 

1925-1927 Director of French Chateau and assist- 
ant Professor of French, Middlebury 
College, Middlebury, Vermont. 

1927-1948 Associate Professor of Languages, Philo- 
logy and Phonetics, Montclair State 
College, Montclair, New Jersey. 

1948-1950 Associate Professor of Languages, Fair- 
leigh Dickinson University, Rutherford, 
New Jersey. 

Publications : 

Progress Books in French, I and II, American Edu- 
cational Press, Cleveland, Ohio, 1929 and 1930. 

Graduate work: 

McGill University, Montreal, Canada, 1911 

Radcliffe College, Cambridge, Massachusetts, 1914- 
1922 

Boston University, Boston, Massachusetts, 1914-1917 

Teachers College, Columbia University, 1922-1924 

Columbia University, New York Cit>', 1927-1934 

Ecole Libre des Hautes Etudes, New York Cit>', 
1943-1946 



35 



MONTCLAIR STATE COLLEGE / SPRING 1967 




F©RUI\/i 

MONTCLAIR STATE COLLEGE / SPRING 1967 



MONTCLAIR STATE COLLEGE 

ALUMNI ASSOCIATION 

Upper Montclair, New Jersey 



MR. MARVIN SHLOFMITZ 


Editor-in-Chief 


MRS. HELEN RENDALL 


. . . Associate Editor 


MR. MORRIS McGEE 


. . . Associate Editor 


MR. LAWRENCE H. CONRAD 


Editorial Consultant 



THE COVER OF THIS ISSUE shows the ancient Monte 
Alban ruins in the State of Oaxaca, Mexico, photographed 
by Prof. Lawrence H. Conrad, Feb., 1967. 



TABLE OF CONTENTS 



EDITORIAL 

New Volume of Poetry Offers the Work of 
Three MSC Alumni Poets 

Montclair Alumni FORUM is happy to greet the 
appearance (only last week) of a new volume of 
poems entitled THREE VOICES, published by Uni- 
versity Graphics, Box 230, Red Bank, New Jersey 
07701. The poems are the work of three Montclair 
graduates: Arthur Bramhall, '31; Eugene T. Mal- 
eska, '37; and Herman Ward, '35. THREE VOICES 
is a book of 72 pages. Copies may be had from the 
publisher at $1.50 each. 

With permission of the copyright owners, Mont- 
clair FORUM is privileged to reprint on page 25 
of this issue three poems taken from the book, one 
by each of the three poets. 

The FORUM Prints its Second Work of 
Prose Fiction 

In keeping with the multi-purpose trend of the 
present-day College, the Editors offer in this number 
— along with some notable poetry — a short-story of 
distinction written by Herbert V. Ogden, '35. We 
have no intention of deserting the field of education. 
Indeed, we feel that the publication of works of 
general literature serves to fulfill the function of a 
truly professional magazine, and keeps alive one of 
the great traditions to which the schools are devoted. 

We hope that many of our readers will be encour- 
aged to offer their best writing to the magazine, so 
that THE FORUM may stand out both for the perti- 
nence of its general articles and for the excellence 
of its literary pieces. 



15,000 Miles of Research, by Samson McDowell Page Three 

The Historian's Lot Is Not An Easy One, by Elwyn C. Gage Page Eight 

The Teacher Education Aspect of the 

National Teacher Corps, by Robert Poppendieck Page Eleven 

Education in Sweden, by B. Ernest Shore Page Fourteen 

Must Realism Continue?, by Lawrence H. Conrad Page Nineteen 

Social Call (A Short Story), by Herbert V. Ogden Page Twenty-One 

The Classics: Are They Expendable?, by George E. Harriston Page Twenty-Three 

Three Poems from the New Volume Called Three Voices Page Twenty-Five 

The Community College, by Raymond C. Lewin Page Twenty-Seven 

Evaluation of Title I Programs, by Charles R. Kelly Page Twenty-Nine 



15,000 Miles of Research 



By SAMSON McDOWKI.I. 

Professor of Biology 




Samson McDowell, Ph.D. 



Editor's Note — //; recountini^ this tale of one of the 
most thrilling research expeditions of our times, Dr. 
McDowell, with characteristic scientific detachment , 
has chosen to be completely impersonal. 

Upon the retirement of Professor Charles E. Hadley 
in 1958, the appointment to succeed him was oflcrcd 
to Dr. Samson McDowell, a biologist who had taken 
all of his work and his three degrees at the University 
of Pennsylvania. He is a man who believes firmly that 
a teacher of college biology must conduct research con- 
currently with his role as a teacher, and that without 
this activity much of the cflectiveness of the professor 
is lost. 

As a protozoan planktologist. Dr. McDowell has 
done a great deal of work in the field with teams of 
biologists involved in pollution surveys, thus anticipat- 
ing the current problem by many years. Such work has 
taken him to over 20 rivers and bays along the eastern 
seaboard, to the West Coast, to Northern Ireland and 
other parts of Europe in 1958, 1961 and 1965, and 
finally around the world in 1963, on an international 
expedition. 

His experiences on this three-month trip will take 
up the rest of this article. As far back as 1957 
UNESCO was interested in developing a cooperative 
international expedition to study the Indian Ocean. By 
1963 the planning was over and the United States 
through the NSF began to operate its part of the joint 
enterprise. Over 25 countries contributed to the general 
effort in much the same way as was done in the very 
successful International Geophysical Year back in 1957. 
The more important countries were the USSR, UK, 
West Germany, France, India, Pakistan, Portugal, Ja- 
pan, South Africa, the Malagasay Republic, Burma, 



Thailand. Malasia. Israel, Denmark, the Netherlands, 
UAR. Italy, and Australia. Many boats were pro- 
vided and hundreds of scientists in all categories, 
biological, chemical, and physical, united in prosecut- 
ing the program. 

The U.S. Program in Biology of the International 
Indian Ocean Expedition represented the major con- 
tribution of this country. The presidential yacht 
Williamsburg was donated to the NSF by President 
Kenncd\ and it was refitted and converted to an ocean 
going laboratory by rebuilding the holds and placing 
many heavy mechanical winches and other gear aboard 
to operate the equipment for sampling on the high 
seas. Multistranded steel cables over five miles long 
had to be manipulated with finesse to drag the dredges 
and nets. All the gear had to be very strong to with- 
stand the strain of heavy pressures and uneven pulling 




Combined grid to show total effort of the U.S. Program in 
Biology, 1963-1965, International Indian Ocean Expedition.) 



due to surface swells. On December 29, 1962, the 
vessel was dedicated at Philadelphia and rechristened 
the RV Anton Br mm after the famous oceanographer 
who had died the year before. 

Dr. McDowell attended the exercises and noted that 
the boat seemed rather small to hold a crew of 15, 10 
assistant oceanographers and 8 to 10 visiting oceano- ' 
graphers along with hundreds of tons of food, and 
thousands of bottles, barrels, and many nets, trawls, 
tools; and also house both a wet and dry laboratory. 
His fears were realized when he joined the vessel later 
and found that it developed a roll of 20 to 30 degrees 
in a relatively small sea! 

By this time Professor McDowell was notified that 
his project had been received favorably by the NSF 
along with 150 others out of the 300 who had 
originally applied. Thereupon he had to find a substi- 
tute to finish out his spring term at Montclair so 
that he could fly to Bombay, India, in early May, to 
board the Anton Bruun for a two months' cruise. 

The Indian Ocean was chosen as the area to in- 
vestigate for a number of reasons. First of all this 
was the third largest ocean and the least known of 
any, for no extensive or systematic collections had ever 
been made there, and only about two dozen vessels 
had done sporadic work there since 1873. A tremen- 
dous fish-kill had occurred in 1957 and had been 
noted by the Soviets as follows: "millions of tons of 
dead fish . . . were floating in an area some 625 miles 
long and 125 miles wide in the middle of the ocean." 
So for the first time the natural productivity of the 
ocean had been observed and since the nations sur- 
rounding the ocean such as Africa and India and Cey- 
lon were living with minimal protein intake in their 
diets there was an added humanistic reason to exploit 
this great basin, but first much had to be learned 
about the sea itself. 

The overall aims of the expedition were summarized 
by the USA in a 1961 report on its part in the bio- 
logical program. 

The . . . expedition represents a unique opportunity 
for oceanographers to apply the experience of the 
past century in an unprecedented cooperative scien- 
tific attack upon the last unexplored oceanic region 
of the world. 

In bringing to bear the techniques of both modern 
and classical oceanography, it is the hope that with- 
in a few years an understanding of the Indian Ocean 
may be attained which will at least approach, and 
in sortie areas perhaps surpass, that of other world 

oceans 

A cooperative effort among the world's biological 
oceanographers will be a relatively new experience; 





V 






'7Z 




RV Anton Bruun — at Bombay, India after refitting for Cruise 
Two. 



its success will demand careful and detailed planning. 

The report stated that development and exploration 
of the ocean's marine resources "could materially aid 
the health and economy" of the people living along 
its shores. And so the IIOE was born. 

The Indian Ocean stretches for more than 28 mil- 
lion square miles and covers over 14 percent of the 
earth's surface. From the subtropics on the north to 
its southernmost reaches in the Antarctic wastes, the 
ocean was destined to become a huge laboratory for 
the oceanographer, biologist, and meteorologist. Many 
questions were crying for answers. What is the chemi- 
cal nature of its 70 million cubic miles of water? 

How do its currents flow? What about its weather? 

How about the ocean as a whole? What is its geo- 
logical history? How was it formed and how does it 
compare with other oceans of the world? 

Where are the fish located? What kinds are com- 
mon? What kind of gear will be successful in exploit- 
ing this resource for the benefit of the 726 million 
people living around this sea, in all about a third of 
the world's population? 

Is it truly a fertile basin with a high plankton yield 
thus guaranteeing a high productivity rate for consumer- 
fishes? 

Dr. McDowell along with 250 other biologists from 
the United States and a hundred more from cooperat- 
ing countries were all set to find the answers for their 
specialties. But what a tremendous expanse awaited 
their eyes! From Africa to the west, Australia and the 
East Indies to the east, Asia to the north and the 
Antarctic to the south, with an average depth of 13,000 
feet and its greatest trenches 25,000 feet deep it was 
truly a gigantic puddle. Romantic islands like Mada- 



gascar, Ceylon, Mauritius, the Seyshelles lay along the 
projected route and ports such as Bombay, Calcutta. 
Aden, Colombo, Port Louis, and Rangoon promised 
much to occupy the curious scientist when the vessel 
put in for outfitting or a visit. 

Professor McDowell arrived in Bombay on May 
10th via London, Paris, Athens, Cairo and Karachi 
with some opportunity to explore the acropolis and 
the pyramids. The first of nine projected cruises had 
just been completed and the Anton Bruun was in port 
for repairs and additional carpentry work deemed 
necessary after its shakedown cruise. So Dr. McDowell 
lived for eight days aboard the vessel, sleeping on 
deck with a multitude of Hindus of all extractions 
and castes, for a swarm of workers were engaged to 
paint and repair the ship. Bombay sweltered in the 
grip of the usual prc-monsoon heat wave, averaging 
near a hundred degrees day and night. The aircondi- 
tioning apparatus was adequate for temperate clim- 
ates, but it was hard put to cool the vessel in the 
tropics. In fact, it could not run while the ship was in 
the harbor, hence resort to the hard deck for sleeping. 
By mid-May anchor was weighed and Cruise Two be- 
gan, to be terminated back in Bombay on July 22nd, 
covering over 15,000 nautical miles. 

The nine cruises were to be independent, and to 
insure no repetition, a grid-like design was agreed upon. 
Cruise Two sailed South along the 70^ meridian from 
20" north latitude at Bombay, across the equator to 
20° south latitude, thence west to Mauritius, arriving 
late in June for refueling and provisioning. From 
Mauritius a course was set back to the southeast 
where the 70° meridian was reached, thence south 
to the horse Latitudes at approximately 40° south 
latitude. The return course ran up the 80° meridian 




Aboard Anton Bruun 
Two. 



ally plankton cast on station— Cruise 



north to Colombo, Ceylon, for fuel, and then around 
the west coast of India to Bombay. For six weeks not 
another vessel was sighted or even an island. Navi- 
gation was well-handled, and arrival times were with- 
in an hour or two of planned time even after weeks 
at sea. 

The working day was as follows. Each night the 
vessel would steam at full speed — a mere 13 knots in a 
favorable sea, less in troubled waters — to the next site 
of operations, usually two degrees of latitude from the 
past scene. Each spot which was investigated was 
termed a station and given consecutive numbers and a 
fix by sextant. Since Cruise Two was devoted primari- 
ly to exploring for fish, much of the day was taken 
up with long-line fishing developed by the Japanese 
some years ago, whereby over 10 miles of heavy line 
was payed out with beacons and buoys placed every 
city block or so along the line, and a baited hook 
on a 100 foot dangling line was lowered over the side 
every 100 yards or so. This operation took several 
hours for the sixman crew of Japanese, Hawaiian, 
Korean, and American sailors, as the boat moved bare- 
ly perceptibly using the Aktif Rudder, a German de- 
vice to maintain position while slowly moving for- 
ward. When the last hook was baited a large flashing 
buoy was dropped to indicate the end. Then the vessel 
turned around and sailed back to the starting place 
some 10 or more miles behind. On several occasions 
the line was lost for hours following storms of high 
intensity, and on one occasion the whole line was lost 
for good. 

Now began the slow return of the long-line. As the 
winch pulled in the masterhne and the hooks and lines, 
the boat edged slowly forward against the line so that 
the crew could release the fish from the hooks and 
pull them with gafifs along the side of the boat back to 
the fantail where the scientists heaved the fish aboard. 
This would take at least six or eight hours, especially 
if large fish had to be maneuvered aboard. 

As each fish was landed it was inventoried, 
numbered, identified as to species, searched for gill 
and skin parasites, and the edible species such as tuna, 
albacore, and others were then thrown down into the 
hold where they were frozen to be added to our larder 
and to be finally given to the citizenry at our ports 
of call. Sharks — and they made up the majority of 
the catch — were studied also and then thrown back 
into the sea whereupon the sea would run red as other 
sharks would become frenzied from the blood. As a 
result our boat was trailed by at least 10 species of 
sharks averaging 6 to 8 feet long and a few up to 
1 5 feet long including the thresher shark and the mako 
and maneating whitetipped ones. 



Meanwhile there was a continual well-coordinated 
set of activities going on involving each specialist. The 
meteorologist sent balloons aloft, studied cloud pat- 
terns, and tried to guess the fickle marine weather-to- 
be of tropical seas where it rained a bit each day and 
rainbows occurred with a frequency of at least three 
or four a day. Sudden squalls could roil up the watei* 
for several hours and then an oppressive calmness 
would descend in the evening, alleviated by the breezes 
of the Doldrums above the equator and by the Trades 
in the Horse Latitudes to the south. Since the day- 
light hours were spent on station almost motionless 
except for oceanswells and in view of the narrow beam 
of the vessel, stability was at a minimum with con- 
stant rolling from side to side of 20 to 30 degrees ac- 
companied by a perceptable pitch fore to aft. Little 
sedentary work could be done during the day, so 
microscopic examination and photography was done 
during the night runs or confined to some of the more 
calm days. 

Physical oceanographers were at work testing for 
all the variables present in currents, and reading their 
numerous automated devices. The chemists lowered 
ther reversing thermometers mounted on cylindrical 
samplers to depths of 200 meters, 500 meters, or even 
a mile down, clamping each of the devices at the cor- 
rect region on the slowly descending steel lines. Then 
a metal messenger would be allowed to fall down the 
wire to trip the valve of the first sampler, thereby 
causing the messenger on that sampler to drop to 
the next one and so on down to the last one on the 
line. The water in each sampler was rushed to the wet 
laboratory and analyses were made of the chemistry, 
the temperature, and the physical nature of the water. 
As a result of this daily routine a tremendous mass of 
data was accumulated for each of the forty some sta- 
tions during Cruise Two. 

Since Dr. McDowell was interested in the plankton 
found at the surface and at various depths, as soon as 
samples were recovered, aliquots were given to him 
to study and preserve for further work later. Hun- 
dreds of samples were collected and preserved in sea- 
water-formalin. Many of the organisms were photo- 
graphed in natural color and several species new to 
science were recovered. The algologist who shared 
the dry laboratory with Professor McDowell was busy 
cultivating algae collected in the sea in an incubator, 
and many new species were found in this way far from 
the known distribution to date. The surface of the 
Indian Ocean would contain windrows of colored al- 
gae, green, red, and brown, stretching over a half a 
mile wide and visible as far as the eye could see to 
the horizon, apparently neatly whipped up into long 
streamers by the constantly blowing Trades. 




The yellowfin Tuna recovered from longline operation, but 
partly eaten by sharks — Cruise Two. 



An exciting feature of the trip was searching the nets 
for macroscopic plankton — fish fry, jellyfish, squid, 
Crustacea, larvae of tunicates and other forms making 
up the pelagic fauna. These plankton nets were shaped 
like giant windsocks with a steel opening about three 
feet wide tapering down in a six-foot length to the 
container, a plastic quart-sized vessel. The net would 
be lowered on station to 200 meters and then slowly 
raised vertically to sample a wide cylinder of water. 
When the net was aboard, the organisms were flushed 
down into the container and part of the catch was in- 
vestigated by all the experts. At night there was a 
tremendous display of bioluminescence as the organisms 
gave forth red, blue, violet, or green light adequate 
to read a newspaper with. One trouble with night 
sampling was the regular appearance of poisonous sea 
snakes being caught in the net, and it can be said 
that they are the most venomous of all reptiles with 
no antidote, especially out on the deep! 

Trawls were pulled at several depths at each station. 
These are nets of a tapered sort but very wide and 
square in front and held open by so-called runners on 
the side made of wood planking. A midwater trawl 
would be weighted to sample a particular depth only, 
and then closed automatically and raised by the "cherry- 
picker" and brought aboard by the crew to await the 
careful scrutiny of the scientists who would separate 
the catch and pick out the organisms which they 
were competent to study. 

As the boat traveled, there was a continuous record 
made by an automated sonic device which recorded 
on a graph paper the profile of the sea floor be- 
neath the ship as they sailed. Miles of such rolls of 
graph paper were preserved for later study. Each hour 



of running time the bathythermograph was lowered 
over the side and pulled in to locate the thermocline 
or the place where the surface water temperature 
sharply changed to the colder water at the lower 
depths. Thousands of such readings arc being collated 
at this time for all the cruises, to reveal the genera! 
pattern of upwelling and overturning of the seawater. 

Productivity studies were done at each station to 
indicate the relative amount of photosynthesis from 
station to station, thereby giving some evidence of 
relative fertility of the water which can be correlated 
with fish-catch, since plankton forms the base of the 
food pyramid for the larger consumer fishes. 

For over two months the Anion Briiun surveyed the 
sea. This careful work was repeated on other meri- 
dians on other cruises so that the whole western Indian 
Ocean was covered as a huge checkerboard. The com- 
bined data from the 10 cruises is still being processed. 
Many new data on deep currents, cold and warm 
flows, and other variables will occupy thousands of 
pages of scientific journals. In addition, vessels like 
the Te Vega out of Scripps Institute in California 
studied and sampled the shallower Bay of Bengal and 
the Arabian Sea. This data will be added to the re- 
ports. In addition, Russian and British and German 
vessels will also report their extensive findings. 

The last previous great oceanographic effort took 
place in 1873-76, when the Challenger sailed around 
the world and opened up the field of oceanography. 
Reports flowed from that voyage from 1880 to 1890 
in 32 volumes. Famous biologists like Murray, Sars, 



.Agassiz. Haeckel and others worked over the data. It 
is interesting to note that this work is still valid and 
can now be purchased as reprintetl in 1966 for 
$3,850.00 for the 29,492 pages, includiiiu the narra- 
tive, 50 volumes in all! 

How long will it take for the data from the IIOE 
to be processed even with the aid of computers? No 
one can be sure, but it will be many years before all 
the collections and samples have been studied and re- 
ported on in the literature. 

Professor McDowell has already discussed his find- 
ings in a preliminary abstract at the Second Interna- 
tional Conference on Protozoology held in London in 
the summer of 1965. His traveling expense was met 
by a grant from the College Development Fund of 
Montclair State College. He hopes to continue his 
work and within a year or so produce a definitive 
book on the oceanic tintinnoidea of the Indian Ocean 
which will include samples from other cruises to give 
a complete picture of the kinds of ciliated protozoa, 
and their distribution in the sea. 

To complete his journey Dr. McDowell flew to 
Agra to visit the Taj Mahal, then flew to Calcutta, 
Bangkok, Hong Kong, Tokyo, and Honolulu, finally ar- 
riving home in Cedar Grove, New Jersey on August 
5th, 1963. So from his original interest in the micro- 
cosmos — life in a drop of water — Professor McDowell 
has ended up with delving into the macrocosmos — 
the ocean, and in the course of his studies has traveled 
to the farthest reaches of the earth. One can never 
tell where this interest will lead! 




Longline Fishermen letting out line, Mauritius in distance- 
Cruise Two. 




The Historian's Lot is Not an Easy One 



By ELWYN C. GAGE, Ph.D. 

Professor Emeritus of History 



Readfield, Maine 
Feb. 15, 1967 

Dear Marvin: 

It was very pleasant to hear from you, and, through you, from some of my 
old friends at Montclair. 

You tell me that your High School students ask you why the American 
History text books "lie", why they deal in "half-truths." And you suggest that I 
write a 1 ,500 word essay in an attempt to answer that question. Well, that is a 
somewhat dangerous question these days, and I am not much good at writing 
formal essays. In any case, I'm sure it wouldn't require 1,500 words for me to 
give my answer. 

In the first place, I doubt very much that there are any intentional lies in the 
text books. But the facts of history are multitudinous and in writing history a 
selection has to be made, and the historian has to do the selecting. Theoretically 
this selection is 100% objective. But the historian being human and subject to 
certain prejudices — patriotic, political, religious etc., the selection gets a bit biased 
at times. All this has been said many times before; it applies to history in general. 



But so far as American history texts are concerned, there are some special 
factors at work. 

I remember an incident in the early 'twenties (and does that date me) when 
I was teaching in the East Orange High School. We were using as a text, as were 
a large majority of schools at that time, the Muzzey book. Muzzey was an out- 
standing teacher at Columbia; his ancestors fought at the battle of Lexington — a 
relevant fact, as wilt be seen later. All of a sudden a gang of super-patriots in 
Newark began to bawl that his text-book was un-American, and that the innocent 
youth of Newark were being perverted. A big meeting was arranged for in Central 
High School (I attended it) and Muzzey was persuaded (by his publishers, I sup- 
pose) to attend and defend himself. What was all this about? Why, it appeared 
that Muzzey had gone so far in his text as to hint that there are some things to be 
said for the British point of view in Revolutionary days. You would have thought 
from the spread-eagle oratory of the Newark flag-wavers that Muzzey was getting 
gold from King George to subvert the "teen year olds of the nation." 

Does this affair give a clue, perhaps, as to why there tend to be "half-truth.s" 
in American history texts? The trouble is not with the historian who, I believe, 
does his best to be honest and impartial. But he works under constant pressure 
from the publisher. The publisher is in business to .sell books, and the way to sell 
them is to avoid displeasing anybody who has a little political influence. 

In Russia the government just dictates that history shall be written according 
to the party line. In this country a thousand and one pressure groups want hitsory 
written according to their lines. Most of these groups, I believe, have one view in 
common; they think the function of a High School history course is to be "inspira- 
tional", not to educate near-voters in the facts of life — economic, political, social. 
Does an American history course leave the impression that the record of big busi- 
ness in this country has not been one long, noble crusade of unselfish service? If 
so, I'm afraid the N.A.M. will think there's something very wrong with the text 
book, or the teacher, or both. Probably the publisher will hear of it. Now the 
Negroes are very well organized, and I understand they want the history books 
re-written; no more of those nostalgic pictures (so dear to the South) of the happy 
darkies strumming the old banjo on the pre-Civil War plantations; and we may 
have to leave Uncle Tom out of Uncle Tom's Cabin. Any facts unfavorable to 
Labor which the historian may recount will be quite O. K. with N.A.M.!: but they 
won't be with Labor. 

As one more example of the difficulties confronting the historian in selecting 
facts, let us take the assassination of President Kennedy. This happened in Dallas, 
which represents the very cream of Texas civilization-so-called, such as it is. It is 
a fact that the city that day was plastered with Posters inciting hatred of the Pres- 
ident. It is a fact that newspapers had been fanning the flames for some days. It is 
a fact that little children, reared in the cultured homes of Dallas, clapped their 
hands with delight on being told of the President's death. It is said to be a fact 
that a General of the U.S. Army, allegedly the leading John Bircher in that strong- 
hold of Birchism, refused to half-mast his flag when informed of the President's 
death. It is reported that one teacher who expressed her opinion of this state of 
affairs, was promptly fired. It is a fact that Oswald lived in this atmosphere of 
bigotry and hate. It is also a fact that Oswald had a Communist background. It 
is a further fact that the F.B.I, claims to have known all about Oswald — except 
what he was doing when the President was shot. How many of these facts can we 
regard as relevant and use in our text book? Only one, I'm afraid — to wit, that 
Oswald was a Communist. Otherwise we won't sell many books in Texas. And 
the publishers keep a very close eye on Texas, where they buy a tremendous lot 
of text books. 



/ am reminded of another episode, not directly connected with text-books, 
but throwing a little light, perhaps, on the atmosphere of freedom in which, not 
only text-book writers, but also teachers and students operate. Some years ago, 
when I was still teaching at Montclair, but had come to Maine for the summer, 
I went out for a ride one afternoon. On my way home 1 stopped in at the village 
store and the lady in charge said to me, "did you know that the State Police are 
looking for you?" You can imagine what a terrific shock this was to one so in- 
nocent of all crime as I was. I hurried home in fear and trembling. Very soon — 
to quote Rex Stout — "the door bell rang", and there, sure enough, stood an 
F.B.I, man. What was all this about? — the State police, the F.B.I. — all out in 
force? He wanted to know what I knew about a little girl who had fust graduated 
from Montclair and who had applied for a very minor job in Washington! I sup- 
pose he meant had she ever expressed in class any opinions that J. Edgar Hoover 
would not approve of. I couldn't remember that she had ever expressed any. I 
didn't dare to tell him that the girl was left-handed, as I felt sure that any one 
so far to the left as that would be regarded as a national menace if set to pounding 
a typewriter in Washington. I suppose at the same time I was being tracked all 
the way to Maine a dozen other teachers were being trailed by a dozen other 
F.B.I, men to get the same information — all at the taxpayers' expense. 

To sum up: the business of the historian, according to the Graduate Schools, 
is to state facts, and to be sure that they are facts — not to judge the facts, or in- 
terpret them. But, as we have seen, there are so many facts that some of them 
have got to be left out. And the minute you begin to select facts the historian's 
judgment inevitably enters. If he decides (for whatever reason) that he will let 
"inspirationalism" be his guide, when he comes to the Spanish-American War, 
for example, he will point out that the Cubans were sadly — even brutally mis- 
governed by the Spanish, that the great American public, full of resentment at 
Spanish atrocities, rushed to arms to help free the Cubans. This is all true enough; 
the Spanish certainly misgoverned Cuba; the American public certainly thought at 
the time that they were fighting for Cuban freedom. I feel sure this account would 
be perfectly satisfactory to the D.A.R., the N.A.M., the American Legion and even 
the John Birch Society. If there are also certain facts that indicate this was an 
imperialistic war if ever there was one — that an unwilling President was more or 
less pushed into it by yellow journalists, Teddy Roosevelt and Cabot Lodge, and 
behind-the-scene interests — that we came out of it with Cuba virtually an American 
protectorate , with full possession of Puerto Rico and the Philippine islands on the 
other side of the world (not very closely connected with freedom for the Cubans) — 
why, then, should we bring all this up? It's not very inspirational to the young — 
especially at a time when we're fighting a war for freedom in Vietnam. Well, this 
may be a not very satisfactory conclusion, but it may indicate why "half-truths" 
now and then creep into American History texts. 

Now, Marvin, if you can make some use of this it's all right with me — pro- 
vided you can do so without getting yourself and me cited by the Committee on 
Un-American activities. But if you use it, don't be like those publisher's editors, 
and "select out" everything that might offend somebody, because if you do, instead 
of fifteen hundred words you'll have just about fifteen — namely, the first paragraph. 




10 





Storefront meeting of Harlem children, parents, NTC Corpsmen and community agency workers. 



Photo by Jill Krementz 



The Teacher Education Aspect of the 
National Teacher Corps 



By ROBERT POPPENDIECK, '31 

Chief, Programs Branch, National Teachers Corps 
U.S. Office of Education 



The development of the National Teacher Corps has 
released refinements in teacher education that promise 
applications far beyond the Corps, itself. Current pro- 
grams of the National Teacher Corps have provided a 
climate for more intensive coordination of study and 
practice than typical program limitations have permit- 
ted. The major teacher education factors are: the 
laboratory approach, increased supervision, and a modi- 
fied utilization of team teaching. The chief categorical 
factors determining the scope of Teacher Corps ac- 
tivities are: graduate-level entry into teacher education, 
service to disadvantaged children and youth, and co- 
ordinated school-college programs. Governed by these 
several factors, the emergence of the National Teacher 
Corps has stimulated new enthusiasms within teacher 
education. 



The Corps is, at one and the same time, a service 
and a process. This is crucial. It is a service to dis- 
advantaged youth and a process of educating teachers. 
In supplementing school services to culturally and 
economically disadvantaged young people, the Corps 
provides a practice-centered process of educating pro- 
spective teachers. Similarly, in fostering the scholarly 
assessment of practical experiences, the Corps provides 
personalized attention to needy youth. This unitary 
nature of service and process is the distinguishing 
characteristic of the National Teacher Corps. 

The NTC in Brief. The Corps enters into agree- 
ments with institutions of higher education and local 
school districts under which teams of recent college 
graduates, supervised by experienced teachers, pursue 
two-year part-time internships coordinated with two- 



11 



year part-time graduate study programs designed to 
equip the interns for careers in teaching disadvantaged 
youth. These are the essential specifications of the 
enabling legislation under which more than 1000 in- 
terns are preparing for teaching careers through the 
leadership of 50 colleges and universities and 111 
school districts. 

Neither fifth-year programs nor paid internships are 
new. The focus on serving the disadvantaged is, how- 
ever; while the two-year duration and more adequate 
remuneration are relatively new. Thus, the Teacher 
Corps is enabling the profession to make more effective 
application of the last decade's experience in preparing 
teacher through graduate internship programs. 

The emphasis on increased educational oppor- 
tunity for the disadvantaged is having positive ef- 
fects on both the internship activities and the school 
programs. The provision that intern services must 
"supplement, not supplant" existing school services 
means that cooperating schools are enriching their 
programs with individual and small-group tutoring, 
with longer school days, and with community outreach 
at the same time that interns are receiving gradual and 
highly personal instructional experience. The whole- 
some dedication of interns in working with the dis- 
advantaged has led to expanding involvement in com- 
munity-centered services, and, in many instances, to 
achieving understanding and rapport through living 
in the disadvantaged neighborhood itself. 

While cooperation of schools and colleges has long 
characterized student teaching and internship programs, 
the impact of the National Teacher Corps has increased 
the depth and quality of such relationships. This has 
involved program planning, shared leadership, and 
renewed attention to curriculum improvement. In many 
instances it has been found appropriate to modify 
standard practices in order to implement the purpose 
of preparing teachers by improving the education of 
the disadvantaged. 

The Teacher Education Component. The initial 
phase of educating prospective teachers through the 
National Teacher Corps takes place in the pre-service 
program. This is based on a college or university 
campus for a period of 10 or 12 weeks. Typically, it 
features orientation to the sociology of poverty and to 
the educative process. Classroom study includes exten- 
sive observation and participation in school and com- 
munity situations. In essence, the pre-service experi- 
ence provides for the scholarly confrontation of realist- 
ic problems of the disadvantaged. 

Three points in particular affect the career deci- 
sions of the corpsmen during the pre-service phase. 
They confront the need for improved educational op- 



portunity for disadvantaged youth. They study the 
possibility of providing such service. They face the 
personal decision of whether they really want to take 
part in that service. College graduates who determine 
that the need is unreal should have no. further part 
in the Corps. Similarly, those who beUeve there is 
a need, but that little can be done about it should 
withdraw. Finally, those who see the need and ac- 
cept the possibility of its being met, but who cannot 
see themselves in the service role should also with- 
draw. Dedication applies to those who recognize the 
need, have faith in human competence to meet it, and 
are determined to help put it across. These interns, 
the National Teacher Corps proposes to prepare for 
careers in teaching the disadvantaged utilizing two years 
of in-service study and internship to produce highly 
quahfied beginning teachers. 

It is also during the pre-service phase that corps- 
men are introduced to the possibilities of team teach- 
ing, that they are organized into their probable teams, 
and that they become involved in the interpersonal 
implications of group dynamics. Not in all cases, but 
in many, the interns begin to experiment with specific 
components of teaching under specialized applications 
of the micro teaching concept. 

Obviously, the several pre-service programs in oper- 
ation during the first year varied considerably in terms 
of institutional resources, opportunities, and sensitivi- 
ties. There was no intent to force them into a mold. 
What they had in common was the basic introduction 
and the overall intent of identifying the most appro- 
priate continuing corpsmen through the process of 
involving them in the first hand study of teaching the 
disadvantaged. 




DR. ROBERT POPPENDIECK 



12 



Although the in-service graduate study phase and the 
internship experience involve separate financial arrange- 
ments — the one with the institution and the other with 
the school district — the teacher education element is 
intended to be single and unified. This is the focus 
of the laboratory approach to teacher education. At 
its best, there is careful coordination between the 
realistic experiences of the interns with pupils and the 
scholarly assessment of these experiences and of the 
related literature and professional insight. Even without 
perfect coordination, this major emphasis on linking 
theory and practice far exceeds that of the regular 
teacher education programs. Schools and colleges are 
responding well to the opportunity to increase inter- 
disciplinary cooperation, both on campus and in the 
supervision of school and community activities. The 
very spirit of Teacher Corps affects the teacher educa- 
tion process itself. 

The pupil-centered emphasis of the service factor 
tends to create intern-centered programs of teacher 
education. The patterns of graduate study are charac- 
terized more by individual programming than by com- 
mon requirements. Moreover, as individuals, the in- 
terns are involved in innovative applications to their 
teaching of that which they are studying in their gradu- 
ate classes. 

The key to this application is the team leader, an 
experienced teacher who serves as the agent of both the 
school and the college. Actually, his is a new func- 
tion in the teacher education process. Representing the 
school and employed by it, the team leader assumes a 
role combining functions of critic teacher, assistant 
principal, and curriculum coordinator for his team of 
three or four or five interns. Working directly with his 
team, he relieves other school personnel of extra re- 
sponsibilities imposed upon them by typical internship 
on student teaching arrangements. Representing the 
graduate school, the team leader is party to its super- 
vision both in the schoolroom and in the educational 
seminar. Working directly with his individual interns, 
he is the catylatic agent releasing the translation of 
theory into practice. Representing the community, the 
team leader facilitates both the outreach of the school 
and the related community service activities of the in- 
terns. In a special sense, the experienced teacher team 
leader is a coach. Available at the points of obser- 
vation, pupil diagnosis, lesson planning, tutoring, ap- 
praisal, replanning, reteaching, graduate study, seminar 
discussion, and continuing scholarly assessment this 
teacher-coach becomes mentor, critic, resource, and 
counselor. The quality of the internship turns on the 
competence of the team leader. The laboratory ap- 
proach to teacher education has evolved a new and 



highly important specialization. 

Anticipation. It is to be hoped that continuing ex- 
perience with the lahoralory approach will actually 
lead to more scientifically controlled experiment with 
the clinical approach. As the record of experience 
swells, as more new teachers grow into broad compe- 
tence through micro-teaching achievements, and as 
schools and colleges increase their cooperative re- 
sponse to their common responsibility for teacher edu- 
cation, there is reason to believe that the inefficiencies 
of rather random laboratory experiment will give way 
to diagnosis and prescribed experiences producing de- 
sired and predictable results in teacher competence. 

Actually, much of the technical competence to im- 
plement more effective diagnosis and prescription in 
teacher education is at hand. We have the equipment 
to record, analyze and employ myriad teaching epi- 
sodes. We can computerize programs for individually 
paced achievement both in the common school areas 
and in the related education of teachers. This is ex- 
pensive, but so are most of the other newer develop- 

(Conlinued on Page Twenly-lwo) 




NYU Corpsmen ask Harlem children u 
to storefront meeting. 



i^u parents 



13 





Units of a typical suburban Comprehensive School for the first age group. Small one-story 
buildings have direct classroom access to open areas. 



Swedish Information Scrvi 



Education in Sweden 

By B. ERNEST SHORE 

B. Ernest Shore, Assistant Professor at Montclair State College, spent last summer 
at a comparative education seminar in Scandinavia under a grant from the College. 



Sweden has always held a high place in the esteem 
of the United States. It is not simply that the two 
million Americans who were born in Sweden have 
somehow managed to leaven our national emotional 
loaf into a predisposition in favor of things Swedish, 
so much as a sincere admiration on the part of Ameri- 
cans for what may be called "the Swedish way of life." 
To a very large extent a great society has already come 
about in Sweden, its standard of living is one of the 
highest in the world, its public welfare benefits are 
very broad, the country is nationally independent and 
it has a remarkably unfettered mind that explores for 
new forms in social living and the arts. Originality, 
after all, is what moves the world forward, and Sweden 
has much more of it than her size, wealth, geographical 
position and political power would seem capable of 
producing. Nowhere does the originality of Sweden 



show up better than in her educational system. 

Originality without relation to the base from which 
it soars is like a moon-rocket without adequate guid- 
ance — a meaningless flash that accomplishes nothing 
but destruction and waste. In the training of its rising 
generation, Swedish philosophy is that the acquisition 
of culture and useful skills connected with present 
and foreseeable needs must not, in any way, be allowed 
to annihilate or dwarf whatever natural ingenuity pupils 
may have. No doubt the educational programs of most 
other countries embody essentially the same principles, 
but the Swedes have really come to grips with teaching 
problems from which others have cautiously veered 
away. It is these points, viewed to some extent in their 
setting, that are of particular interest to the foreign 
observer. 

Nature and history have been kind to Sweden. The 



14 



present population, long completely literate, is slightly 
less than eight million in a richly endowed area 
twenty times the size of a New Jersey that is not 
significantly less in total number of inhabitants. Some 
countries may be experiencing a rush from the open 
spaces to the cities, but the Swedes are still almost 
equally divided between rural and urban areas, though 
with a noticeable tendency to congregate in the ample 
eastern and southern coastal regions. The nation is 
homogeneous in regard to languages, religion and race. 
Even the physical features of the Swedes are sur- 
prisingly similar. There is a standard Swedish type 
which is more easily identifiable, aside from garb, 
than the American, British, German, or Russian. 
Such obvious solidarities make unconsciously for grea- 
ter mutual trust and for family-feeling blown up to a 
national scale. 

There are no minority problems in Sweden because 
there are no sizable minorities. The largest is the 
7,000 Lapps in the north, representing less than one 
one-thousandth of the total population, and though 
they are of undetermined ethnological origin they are 
completely assimilated into Swedish culture and satis- 
fied with it. Nearly 400,000 Swedes live across the 
Baltic in Finland, but they too give rise to no compli- 
cation for they have long occupied a privileged posi- 
tion in the intellectual, economic and social structure 
of this neighboring country which to all intents and 
purposes is also Scandinavian. Swedes who have emi- 
grated to other parts of the world, principally to Eng- 
lish-speaking countries, certainly get absorbed by those 
countries but in a sense they become a Greater Swe- 
den. The Swedes at home are led into an international- 
ity of mind by the mere fact that so many of their 
kindred are living abroad in various other types of 
cultural environments. 

With a birth-rate that exceeds the death-rate by 
only .6% (one of the lowest in the world) Sweden has 
no seething multitude of angry young people pounding 
on the gates of career fields already filled with the 
older generation. Unemployment just does not exist. 
Indeed, expanding industry in Sweden requires not 
only as many young people to be trained for it while 
in school as possible, but also the absorption of immi- 
grants from Italy, Yugoslavia, and other European 
countries where the economic situation is less well 
adjusted. Not for over 150 years has Sweden been 
involved in the hostilities of a war. This means that 
she has avoided the depletion of the best of her youth 
and the destruction of her material resources. Some of 
these favorable conditions have merely happened — 
they are the imponderables in human affairs. Others 
have been brought about by a persistent application 
of intelligence and restraint. It would be only natural 



if the Swedes felt themselves aloof from the rest of 
the world, especially when they are geographically 
located off on the periphery of the major races. 
Nothing could be further from the truth. Sweden is 
an ardent supporter of the U.N., UNESCO, UNICEF, 
the International Red Cross, and international projects 
in general. All these factors enter into the intellectual 
climate in which flourishes Swedish education. 

In brief, the educational set-up is headed by a 
Ministry of Education and Ecclesiastical Affairs. The 
Minister himself is appointed by the King on recom- 
mendation of the Prime Minister, who in turn is the 
leader of the political party that has been voted into 
power in Parliament at the most recent popular elec- 
tions. Beneath the Ministry are two appointed National 
Boards, one for Education and the other for Vocational 
and Technical Training. Subordinate to these are Pro- 
vincial School Boards for each of the 25 administra- 
tive districts into which Sweden is divided. These 
Boards are elective, but they are assisted by inspectors 
appointed by the State. At the next, and lowest, level, 
about 1,000 communal boards of laymen are elected 
for a four-year term to manage education in their dis- 
trict. In the last analysis it is Parliament that decides 
the important educational matters, by formulating the 
general policy and by the allotment of funds for its 
implementation in a given area. It can be seen at once 
that the Swedish system is to combine specialist knowl- 
edge, particularly at the higher levels of administra- 
tion, with public opinion which manifests itself at the 
lower levels and, with less precipitousness, at parlia- 
mentary elections. 

The complete overhaul of Swedish education which 
is currently taking place did not get worked out over- 
night. Years of experimentation went on before Par- 
liament adopted in 1962 a new plan for public school- 
ing, a plan which will be fully in effect with the aca- 
demic year 1967-1968. Compulsory education for all 
children begins at age seven and continues to age six- 
teen. These nine years are comprised in the Com- 
prehensive School which, as the name indicates, stresses 
the acquisition of a broad and general knowledge of 
subjects which the authorities consider essential to 
normal living in the modern age. The total period of 
time is divided into three sections of three years each. 
During the first two sections the pupils have the same 
classroom teacher for all subjects, but in the third sec- 
tion the classroom teacher is replaced by a different 
teacher for each subject. The size of the class is 
limited to 25 in the first section, the other two sec- 
tions may have as many as 30 pupils. Obligatory sub- 
jects in the first section are religion, sex education, 
Swedish, gymnastics, music, regional knowledge, and 



15 



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Swedish Information Service 



Modern Swedish gymnasium complex, with sports areas. 



handcraft, but in the second section regional knowl- 
edge is dropped and social science, natural science, 
geography and history are added, along with English. 
Up to this point the whole curriculum has been com- 
pulsory. 

In the third section, when the pupils are age 13 
to 16, some choices may be made in regard to sub- 
jects over and above a continuing core. With parental 
advice and consent, and with consultation with school 
authorities if desired, the pupil may tend toward 
"theoretical'' subjects or "practical" subjects in his 
electives. If he chooses the former, the electives will 
be German, French, physics, chemistry, natural scien- 
ces, etc., and about 80% of his time will be spent on 
compulsory subjects; if he chooses the latter, hand- 
craft and other practical subjects may be selected, with 
about 40% of his time spent on compulsory academic 
disciplines. The decision is a momentous one, for it 
is the theoretical subjects that lead unequivocally to 
the gymnasium or high school program whereas the 
practical subjects lead to continuation school or 
vocational and technical schools. Regardless of which 
option he chooses, the pupil must spend three weeks 
of his eighth year in some agricultural, industrial, or 
commercial enterprize in actual experience with work- 



ing conditions. 

The attention of the American observer is immedi- 
ately caught by several points in the structure of the 
Comprehensive School. He will likely note with ap- 
probation the continuity that exists from the earliest 
primary grade to the end of what he would call 
junior high school. If there is any emotional upheaval 
caused in a child by transferring schools at an early 
age, it is at a minimum in Sweden. The compulsory 
study of religion — and not religion in general, but the 
Christian religion and a particular version of it, Luther- 
anism — will seem to him a note out of harmony with 
modern trends. It must be remembered that Sweden 
has a State Church (though its disestabUshment is 
probably very near) and that education was once a 
church monopoly in European countries. It is not 
without significance that even in Sweden, where the 
outward manifestations of religious belief are less evi- 
dent in the general public than in most countries, 
the title of the Ministry of Education has "and Eccle- 
siastical Affairs" tacked on to it. The American will 
also be interested to see that English is a compulsory 
subject for four years at this school level, and that it 
continues in later stages on a voluntary basis to be 
by far the most popular of all foreign languages. It 



16 



w 

T T HAT ' 



Americans colleges and laiiversitks, 

recipients of billions in Federal funds, 

have a neiv relationship: 



Life 

with Uncle 




I 



HAT WOULD HAPPEN if all the Fed- 
eral dollars now going to America's colleges and 
universities were suddenly withdrawn? 

The president of one university pondered the ques- 
tion briefly, then replied: "Well, first, there would 
be this very loud sucking sound." 

Indeed there would. It would be heard from 
Berkeley's gates to Harvard's yard, from Colby, 
Maine, to Kilgore, Texas. And in its wake would 
come shock waves that would rock the entire estab- 
lishment of American higher education. 

No institution of higher learning, regardless of its 
size or remoteness from Washington, can escape the 
impact of the Federal government's involvement in 
higher education. Of the 2,200 institutions of higher 
learning in the United States, about 1,800 partici- 
pate in one or more Federally supported or spon- 
sored programs. (Even an institution which receives 
no Federal dollars is affected — for it must compete 
for faculty, students, and private dollars with the 
institutions that do receive Federal funds for such 
things.) 

Hence, although hardly anyone seriously believes 
that Federal spending on the campus is going to stop 
or even decrease significantly, the possibility, how- 
ever remote, is enough to send shivers down the na- 
tion's academic backbone. Colleges and universities 
operate on such tight budgets that even a relatively 
slight ebb in the flow of Federal funds could be 
serious. The fiscal belt-tightening in Washington, 
caused by the war in Vietnam and the threat of in- 
flation, has already brought a financial squeeze to 
some institutions. 



A look at what would happen if all Federal dollars 
were suddenly withdrawn from colleges and univer- 
sities may be an exercise in the absurd, but it drama- 
tizes the depth of government involvement: 

► The nation's undergraduates would lose more 
than 800,000 scholarships, loans, and work-study 
grants, amounting to well over S300 million. 

► Colleges and universities would lose some S2 bil- 
lion which now supports research on the campuses. 
Consequently some 50 per cent of America's science 
faculty members would be without support for their 
research. They would lose the summer salaries which 
they have come to depend on — and, in some cases, 
they would lose part of their salaries for the other 
nine months, as well. 

► The big government-owned research laboratories 
which several universities operate under contract 
would be closed. Although this might end some 
management headaches for the universities, it would 
also deprive thousands of scientists and engineers 
of employment and the institutions of several million 
dollars in overhead reimbursements and fees. 

► The newly established National Foundation for 
the Arts and Humanities — for which faculties have 
waited for years — would collapse before its first 
grants were spent. 

► Planned or partially constructed college and uni- 
versity buildings, costing roughly S2.5 billion, would 
be delayed or abandoned altogether. 

► Many of our most eminent universities and medi- 
cal schools would find their annual budgets sharply 
reduced — in some cases by more than 50 per cent. 
And the 68 land-grant institutions would lose Fed- 



A partnership of brains^ rrwney^ and mutual need 



eral institutional support which they have been re- 
ceiving since the nineteenth century. 
► Major parts of the anti-poverty program, the new 
GI Bill, the Peace Corps, and the many other pro- 
grams which call for spending on the campuses would 
founder. 



T 



.HE FEDERAL GOVERNMENT is nOW the "Big 

Spender" in the academic world. Last year, Wash- 
ington spent more money on the nation's campuses 
than did the 50 state governments combined. The 
National Institutes of Health alone spent more on 
educational and research projects than any one 
state allocated for higher education. The National 
Science Foundation, also a Federal agency, awarded 
more funds to colleges and universities than did 
all the business corporations in America. And the 
U.S. Office of Education's annual expenditure in 
higher education of SI -2 billion far exceeded all 
gifts from private foundations and alumni. The 
$5 billion or so that the Federal government will 
spend on campuses this year constitutes more than 
25 per cent of higher education's total budget. 

About half of the Federal funds now going to 
academic institutions support research and research- 
related activities — and, in most cases, the research is 
in the sciences. Most often an individual scholar, 
with his institution's blessing, applies directly to 
a Federal agency for funds to support his work. A 
professor of chemistry, for example, might apply to 
the National Science Foundation for funds to pay for 
salaries (part of his own, his collaborators', and his 
research technicians'), equipment, graduate-student 
stipends, travel, and anything else he could justify 
as essential to his work. A panel of his scholarly 
peers from colleges and universities, assembled by 
NSF, meets periodically in Washington to evaluate 
his and other applications. If the panel members 
approve, the professor usually receives his grant and 
his college or university receives a percentage of the 
total amount to meet its overhead costs. (Under 
several Federal programs, the institution itself can 



Every institution, however small or remote, feels the 
effects oj the Federal role in higher education. 



request funds to help construct buildings and grants 
to strengthen or initiate research programs.) 

The other half of the Federal government's ex- 
penditure in higher education is for student aid, for 
books and equipment, for classroom buildings, labo- 
ratories, and dormitories, for overseas projects, and 
— recently, in modest amounts — for the general 
strengthening of the institution. 

There is almost no Federal agency which does not 
provide some funds for higher education. And there 
are few activities on a campus that are not eligible 
for some kind of government aid. 



C 



LEARLY our collcgcs and universities now 
depend so heavily on Federal funds to help pay for 
salaries, tuition, research, construction, and operat- 
ing costs that any significant decline in Federal sup- 
port would disrupt the whole enterprise of American 
higher education. 

To some educators, this dependence is a threat to 
the integrity and independence of the colleges and 
universities. "It is unnerving to know that our sys- 
tem of higher education is highly vulnerable to the 
whims and fickleness of politics," says a man who 
has held high positions both in government and on 
the campus. 

Others minimize the hazards. Public institutions, 
they point out, have always been^ vulnerable in this 




Copyright 1967 by Editorial Projects for Education, Inc. Xl 



sense — yet look how they've flourished. Congress- 
men, in fact, liave been conscientious in their ap- 
proach to Federal support of higher education ; the 
problem is that standards other than those of the 
universities and colleges could become the deter- 
mining factors in the nature and direction of Federal 
support. In any case, the argument runs, all aca- 
demic institutions depend on the good will of others 
to provide the support that insures freedom. Mc- 
George Bundy, before he left the White House to 
head the Ford Foundation, said flatly: "American 
higher education is more and not less free and strong 
because of Federal funds." Such funds, he argued, 
actually have enhanced freedom by enlarging the 
opportunity of institutions to act; they are no more 
tainted than are dollars from other sources; and the 
way in which they are allocated is closer to academic 
tradition than is the case with nearly all other major 
sources of funds. 

The issue of Federal control notwithstanding. 
Federal support of higher education is taking its 
place alongside military budgets and farm subsidies 
as one of the government's essential activities. All 
evidence indicates that such is the public's will. 
Education has always had a special worth in this 
country, and each new generation sets the valuation 
higher. In a recent Gallup Poll on national goals, 
Americans listed education as having first priority. 
GrtDvemors, state legislators, and Congressmen, ever 
sensitive to voter attitudes, are finding that the im- 
provement of education is not only a noble issue on 
which to stand, but a winning one. 

The increased Federal interest and support reflect 

DRAV^^INGS BY DILL COLE 



another fact: the government now relies as heavily 
on the colleges and universities as the institutions 
do on the government. President Johnson told an 
audience at Princeton last year that in "almost every 
field of concern, from economics to national security, 
the academic community has become a central in- 
strument of public policy in the United States." 
Logan Wilson, president of the American Council 
on Education (an organization which often speaks 
in behalf of higher education), agrees. "Our history 
attests to the vital role which colleges and universities 
have played in assuring the nation's security and 
progress, and our present circumstances magnify 
rather than diminish the role," he says. "Since the 
final responsibility for our collective security and 
welfare can reside only in the Federal government, 
a close partnership between government and higher 
education is essential." 



T 



re- 



-HE PARTNERSHIP indeed exists. As a 
port of the American Society of Biological Chemists 
has said, "the condition of mutual dependence be- 






tween the Federal government and institutions of 
higher learning and research is one of the most 
profound and significant developments of our time." 

Directly and indirectly, the partnership has pro- 
duced enormous benefits. It has played a central 
role in this country's progress in science and tech- 
nology — and hence has contributed to our national 
security, our high standard of living, the lengthen- 
ing life span, our world leadership. One analysis 
credits to education 40 per cent of the nation's 
growth in economic productivity in recent years. 

Despite such benefits, some thoughtful observers 
are concerned about the future development of the 
government-campus partnership. They are asking 
how the flood of Federal funds will alter the tradi- 
tional missions of higher education, the time-honored 
responsibility of the states, and the flow of private 
funds to the campuses. They wonder if the give and 
take between equal partners can continue, when one 
has the money and the other "only the brains." 

Problems already have arisen from the dynamic 
and complex relationship between Washington and 
the academic world. How serious and complex such 
problems can become is illustrated by the current 
controversy over the concentration of Federal re- 
search funds on relatively few campuses and in 
certain sections of the country. 

The problem grew out of World War II, when the 
government turned to the campuses for desperately 
needed scientific research. Since many of the best- 
known and most productive scientists were working 
in a dozen or so institutions in the Northeast and a 
few in the Midwest and California, more than half 
of the Federal research funds were spent there. 
(Most of the remaining money went to another 50 
universities with research and graduate training.) 

The wartime emergency obviously justified this 



The haves and have-nots 



concentration of funds. When the war ended, how- 
ever, the lopsided distribution of Federal research 
funds did not. In fact, it has continued right up to 
the present, with 29 institutions receiving more than 
50 per cent of Federal research dollars. 

To the institutions on the receiving end, the situa- 
tion seems natural and proper. They are, after all, 
the strongest and most productive research centers 
in the nation. The government, they argue, has an 
obligation to spend the public's money where it will 
yield the highest return to the nation. 

The less-favored institutions recognize this ob- 
ligation, too. But they maintain that it is equally 
important to the nation to develop new institutions 
of high quality — yet, without financial help from 
Washington, the second- and third-rank institutions 
will remain just that. 

In late 1 965 President Johnson, in a memorandum 
to the heads of Federal departments and agencies, 
acknowledged the importance of maintaining scien- 
tific excellence in the institutions where it now exists. 
But, he emphasized. Federal research funds should 
also be used to strengthen and develop new centers 
of excellence. Last year this "spread the wealth" 
movement gained momentum, as a number of 
agencies stepped up their eflforts to broaden the 
distribution of research money. The Department of 
Defense, for example, one of the bigger purchasers 
of research, designated $18 million for this academic 
year to help about 50 widely scattered institutions 
develop into high-grade research centers. But with 
economies induced by the war in Vietnam, it is 
doubtful whether enough money will be available 
in the near future to end the controversy. 

Eventually, Congress may have to act. In so 
doing, it is almost certain to displease, and perhaps 
hurt, some institutions. To the pessimist, the situa- 
tion is a sign of troubled tiines ahead. To the op- 
timist, it is the democratic process at work. 



R 



.ECENT STUDENT DEMONSTRATIONS haVC 

dramatized another problem to which the partner- 
ship between the government and the campus has 
contributed: the relative emphasis that is placed 



compete foi^ limited funds 

on research and on the teaching of undergraduates. 

Wisconsin's Representative Henry Reuss con- 
ducted a Congressional study of the situation. Sub- 
sequently he said: "University teaching has become 
a sort of poor relation to research. I don't quarrel 
with the goal of excellence in science, but it is pursued 
at the expense of another irtiportant goal — excellence 
of teaching. Teaching suffers and is going to suffer 
more." 

The problem is not limited to universities. It is 
having a pronounced elTect on the smaller liberal 
arts colleges, the women's colleges, and the junior 
colleges — all of which have as their primary func- 
tion the teaching of undergraduates. To offer a first- 
rate education, the colleges must attract and retain 
a first-rate faculty, which in turn attracts good stu- 
dents and financial support. But undergraduate col- 
leges can rarely compete with Federally supported 
universities in faculty salaries, fellowship awards, re- 
search opportunities, and plant and equipment. The 
president of one of the best undergraduate colleges 
says: "When we do get a young scholar who skill- 
fully combines research and teaching abilities, the 
universities lure him from us with the promise of a 
high salary, light teaching duties, frequent leaves, 
and almost anything else he may want." 

Leland Haworth, whose National Science Founda- 
tion distributes more than S300 million annually 
for research activities and graduate programs on the 
campuses, disagrees. "I hold little or no brief," he 
says, "for the allegation that Federal support of re- 
search has detracted seriously from undergraduate 
teaching. I dispute the contention heard in some 
quarters that certain of our major universities have 
become giant research factories concentrating on 
Federally sponsored research projects to the detri- 
ment of their educational functions." Most univer- 
sity scholars would probably support Mr. Haworth's 
contention that teachers who conduct research are 
generally better teachers, and that the research en- 
terprise has infused science education with new sub- 
stance and vitality. 

To get perspective on the problem, compare uni- 
versity research today with what it was before 
World War II. A prominent physicist calls the pre- 
war days "a horse-and-buggy period." In 1930, col- 
leges and universities spent less than S20 million on 
scientific research, and that came largely from pri- 




vate foundations, corporations, and endowment in- 
come. Scholars often built their equipment from in- 
geniously adapted scraps and spare machine parts. 
Graduate students considered it compensation 
enough just to be allowed to participate. 

Some three decades and SI 25 billion later, there 
is hardly an academic scientist who does not feel 
pressure to get government funds. The chairman of 
one leading biology department admits that "if a 
young scholar doesn't have a grant when he comes 
here, he had better get one within a year or so or 
he's out; we have no funds to support his research." 

Considering the large amounts of money available 
for research and graduate training, and recognizing 
that the publication of research findings is still the 
primary criterion for academic promotion, it is not 
surprising that the faculties of most universities spend 
a substantial part of their energies in those activities. 

Federal agencies are looking for ways to ease the 
problem. The National Science Foundation, for ex- 
ample, has set up a new program which will make 
grants to undergraduate colleges for the improve- 
ment of science instruction. 

More help will surely be forthcoming. 



T 



.HE FACT that Federal funds have been 
concentrated in the sciences has also had a pro- 
nounced effect on colleges and universities. In many 
institutions, faculty members in the natural sciences 
earn more than faculty members in the humanities 
and social sciences; they have better facilities, more 
frequent leaves, and generally more influence on the 
campus. 



The government's support of science can also 
disrupt the academic balance and internal priorities 
of a college or university. One president explained: 

"Our highest-priority construction project was a 
$3 million building for our humanities departments. 
Under the Higher Education Facilities Act, we could 
expect to get a third of this from the Federal govern- 
ment. This would leave $2 million for us to get from 
private sources. 

"But then, under a new government program, the 
biology and psychology faculty decided to apply to 
the National Institutes of Health for $1.5 million 
for new faculty members over a period of five years. 
These additional faculty people, however, made it 
necessary for us to go ahead immediately with our 
plans for a $4 million science building — so we gave 
it the No. 1 priority and moved the humanities 
building down the list. 

"We could finance half the science building's cost 
with Federal funds. In addition, the scientists pointed 
out, they could get several training grants which 
would provide stipends to graduate students and 
tuition to our institution. 

"You see what this meant? Both needs were valid 
— those of the humanities and those of the sciences. 
For $2 million of private money, I could either 
build a S3 million humanities building or I could 
build a $4 million science building, get $1.5 million 
for additional faculty, and pick up a few hundred 
thousand dollars in training grants. Either-or; not 
both." 

The president could have added that if the scien- 
tists had been denied the privilege of applying to 
NIH, they might well have gone to another institu- 
tion, taking their research grants with them. On the 
other hand, under the conditions of the academic 
marketplace, it was unlikely that the humanities 
scholars would be able to exercise a similar mobility. 

The case also illustrates why academic adminis- 
trators sometimes complain that Federal support of 
an individual faculty member's research projects 
casts their institution in the ineffectual role of a legal 
middleman, prompting the faculty member to feel 
a greater loyalty to a Federal agency than to the 
college or university. 

Congress has moved to lessen the disparity be- 
tween support of the humanities and social sciences 
on the one hand and support of the physical and 
biological sciences on the other. It established the 
National Foundation for the Arts and Humanities — 
a move which, despite a pitifully small first-year al- 
location of funds, offers some encouragement. And 
close observers of the Washington scene predict that 



The affluence of research: 

the social sciences, which have been receiving some 
Federal support, are destined to get considerably 
more in the next few years. 



E 



Ifforts to cope with such difficult prob- 
lems must begin with an understanding of the nature 
and background of the government-campus partner- 
ship. But this presents a problem in itself, for one en- 
counters a welter of conflicting statistics, contradic- 
tory information, and wide differences of honest 
opinion. The task is further complicated by the 
swiftness with which the situation continually 
changes. And — the ultimate complication — there is 
almost no uniformity or coordination in the Federal 
government's numerous programs affecting higher 
education. 

Each of the 50 or so agencies dispensing Federal 
funds to the colleges and universities is responsible 
for its own program, and no single Federal agency 
supervises the entire enterprise. (The creation of the 
Office of Science and Technology in 1 962 represented 
an attempt to cope with the multiplicity of relation- 
ships. But so far there has been little significant im- 
provement.) Even within the two houses of Congress, 
responsibility for the government's expenditures on 
the campuses is scattered among several committees. 

Not only does the lack of a coordinated Federal 
program make it difficult to find a clear definition 
of the government's role in higher education, but it 
also creates a number of problems both in Washing- 
ton and on the campuses. 

The Bureau of the Budget, for example, has had to 




a siren song to teachers 

wrestle with several uncoordinated, duplicative Fed- 
eral science budgets and witii difTerent accounting 
systems. Congress, faced with the almost impossil^le 
task of keeping informed about the esoteric world 
of science in order to legislate intelligently, finds it 
difficult to control and direct the fast-growing Fed- 
eral investment in higher education. And the in- 
dividual government agencies are forced to make 
policy decisions and to respond to political and other 
pressures without adequate or consistent guidelines 
from above. 

The colleges and universities, on the other hand, 
must negotiate the maze of Federal bureaus with 
consummate skill if they are to get their share of the 
Federal largesse. If they succeed, they must then 
cope with inountains of paperwork, disparate sys- 
tems of accounting, and volumes of regulations that 
differ from agency to agency. Considering the mag- 
nitude of the financial rewards at stake, the institu- 
tions have had no choice but to enlarge their ad- 
ministrative staffs accordingly, adding people who 
can handle the business problems, wrestle with 
paperwork, manage grants and contracts, and un- 
tangle legal snarls. College and university presidents 
are constantly looking for competent academic ad- 
ministrators to prowl the Federal agencies in search 
of programs and opportunities in which their institu- 
tions can profitably participate. 

The latter group of people, whom the press calls 
"university lobbyists," has been growing in number. 
At least a dozen institutions now have full-time 
representatives working in Washington. Many more 
have members of their administrative and academic 
^ staffs shuttling to and from the capital to negotiate 
Federal grants and contracts, cultivate agency per- 
sonnel, and try to influence legislation. Still other 
institutions have enlisted the aid of qualified alumni 
or trustees who happen to live in Washington. 



T 



.HE LACK of a uniform Federal policy pre- 
vents the clear statement of national goals that might 
give direction to the government's investments in 
higher education. This takes a toll in effectiveness 
and consistency and tends to produce contradictions 
and conflicts. The teaching-versus-research contro- 
versy is one example. 




Fund-raisers prowl 
the Washington maze 



President Johnson provided another. Last sum- 
mer, he pubhcly asked if the country is really get- 
ting its money's worth from its support of scientific 
research. He implied that the time may have come 
to apply more widely, for the benefit of the nation, 
the knowledge that Federally sponsored medical re- 
search had produced in recent years. A wave of ap- 
prehension spread through the medical schools when 
the President's remarks were reported. The inference 
to be drawn was that the Federal funds supporting 
the elaborate research eflFort, built at the urging of 
the government, might now be diverted to actual 
medical care and treatment. Later the Secretary of 
Health, Education, and Welfare, John W. Gardner, 
tried to lay a calming hand on the medical scien- 
tists' fevered brows by making a strong reaffirmation 
of the National Institutes of Health's commitment 
to basic research. But the apprehensiveness remains. 

Other events suggest that the 25-year honeymoon 
of science and the government may be ending. Con- 
necticut's Congressman Emilio Q. Daddario, a man 
who is not intimidated by the mystique of modern 
science, has stepped up his campaign to have a 
greater part of the National Science Foundation 
budget spent on applied research. And, despite pleas 
from scientists and NSF administrators. Congress 
terminated the costly Mohole project, which was 
designed to gain more fundamental information 
about the internal structure of the earth. 

Some observers feel that because it permits and 
often causes such conflicts, the diversity in the gov- 
ernment's support of higher education is a basic 
flaw in the partnership. Others, however, believe 
this diversity, despite its disadvantages, guarantees 
a margin of independence to colleges and univer- 
sities that would be jeopardized in a monolithic 
"super-bureau." 

Good or bad, the diversity was probably essential 
to the development of the partnership between Wash- 
ington and the academic world. Charles Kidd, ex- 
ecutive secretary of the Federal Council for Science 
and Technology, puts it bluntly when he points out 
that the system's pluralism has allowed us to avoid 
dealing "directly with the ideological problem of 
what the total relationship of the government and 
universities should be. If we had had to face these 
ideological and political pressures head-on over the 






past few years, the confrontation probably would 
have wrecked tlie system." 

That confrontation may be coming closer, as Fed- 
eral allocations to science and education come under 
sharper scrutiny in Congress and as the partncrsliip 
entei's a new and significant phase. 



F 



.EDERAL AID to higlicr education began with 
the Ordinance of 1787, which set a.side public lands 
for schools and declared that the "means of educa- 
tion shall forever be encouraged." But the two forces 
that most shaped American higher education, say 
many historians, were the land-grant movement of 
the nineteenth century and the Federal support of 
scientific research that began in World War II. 

The land-grant legislation and related acts of 
Congress in subsequent years established the Ameri- 
can concept of enlisting the resources of higher edu- 
cation to meet pressing national needs. The laws 
were pragmatic and were designed to improve edu- 
cation and research in the natural sciences, from 
which agricultural and industrial expansion could 
proceed. From these laws has evolved the world's 
greatest system of public higher education. 

In this century the Federal inxohement grew 
spasmodically during such periods of crisis as World 
War I and the depression of the thirties. But it was 
not until VV'orld War II that the relationship began 
its rapid evolution into the dynamic and intimate 
partnership that now exists. 

Federal agencies and industrial laboratories were 
ill-prepared in 1940 to supply the research and 
technology so essential to a full-scale war eflfort. 
The government therefore turned to the nation's 
colleges and universities. Federal funds supported 
scientific research on the campuses and built huge 
research facilities to be operated by universities 
under contract, such as Chicago's Argonne Labora- 
tory and California's laboratory in Los Alamos. 

So successful was the new relationship that it 
continued to flourish after the war. Federal re- 
search funds poured onto the campuses from military 
agencies, the National Institutes of Health, the 
Atomic Energy Commission, and the National 
Science Foundation. The amounts of money in- 
creased spectacularly. At the beginning of the war 
the Federal government spent less than S200 million 
a year for all research and development. By 1950, 
the Federal "r & d" expenditure totaled SI billion. 

The Soviet Union's launching of Sputnik jolted 





Even those campuses which traditionally stand apart 
from government find it hard to resist Federal aid. 



the nation and brought a dramatic surge in support 
of scientific research. President Eisenhower named 
James R. KilHan, Jr., president of Massachusetts In- 
stitute of Technology, to be Special Assistant to the 
President for Science and Technology. The National 
Aeronautics and Space Administration was estab- 
lished, and the National Defense Education Act of 
1958 was passed. Federal spending for scientific re- 
search and development increased to $5.8 billion. 
Of this, $400 million went to colleges and universi- 
ties. 

The 1960's brought a new dimension to the rela- 
tionship between the Federal government and higher 
education. Until then, Federal aid was almost syn- 
onymous with government support of science, and 
all Federal dollars allocated to campuses were to 
meet specific national needs. 

There were two important exceptions: the GI Bill 
after World War II, which crowded the colleges and 
universities with returning servicemen and spent $19 
billion on educational benefits, and the National De- 
fense Education Act, which was the broadest legis- 
lation of its kind and the first to be based, at least 
in part, on the premise that support of education it- 
self is as much in the national interest as support 
which is based on the colleges' contributions to some- 
thing as specific as the national defense. 

The crucial turning-points were reached in the 
Kennedy-Johnson years. President Kennedy said: 
"We pledge ourselves to seek a system of higher edu- 




cation where evTry young American can be edu- 
cated, not according to his race or his means, but 
according to his capacity. Never in the life of this 
country has the pursuit of that goal become more 
important or more urgent." Here was a clear na- 
tional commitment to universal higher education, a 
public acknowledgment that higher education is 
worthy of support for its own sake. The Kennedy 
and Johnson administrations produced legislation 
which authorized: 

► SI. 5 billion in matching funds for new con- 
struction on the nation's campuses. 

► SI 51 million for local communities for the build- 
ing of junior colleges. 

► S432 million for new medical and dental schools 
and for aid to their students. 

► The first large-scale Federal program of under- 
graduate scholarships, and the first Federal package 
combining them with loans and jobs to help indi- 
vidual students. 

► Grants to strengthen college and university li- 
braries. 

► Significant amounts of Federal money for 
"promising institutions," in an effort to lift the entire 
system of higher education. 

► The first significant support of the humanities. 

In addition, dozens of "Great Society" bills in- 
cluded funds for colleges and universities. And their 
number is likely to increase in the years ahead. 

The full significance of the developments of the 
past few years will probably not be known for some 
time. But it is clear that the partnership between the 



Federal government and higher education has en- 
tered a new phase. The question of the Federal gov- 
ernment's total relationship to colleges and univer- 
sities — avoided for so many years — has still not been 
squarely faced. But a confrontation may be just 
around the corner. 



T 



.HE MAJOR PITFALL, around which Presi- 
dents and Congressmen have detoured, is the issue 
of the separation of state and church. The Constitu- 
tion of the United States says nothing about the Fed- 
eral government's responsibility for education. So 
the rationale for Federal involvement, up to now, 
has been the Constitution's Article I, which grants 
Congress the power to spend tax money for the com- 
mon defense and the general welfare of the nation. 

So long as Federal support of education was spe- 
cific in nature and linked to the national defense, 
the religious issue could be skirted. But as the em- 
phasis moved to providing for the national welfare, 
the legal grounds became less firm, for the First 
Amendment to the Constitution says, in part, "Con- 
gress shall make no law respecting an establishment 
of religion. ..." 

So far, for practical and obvious reasons, neither 
the President nor Congress has met the problem 
head-on. But the battle has been joined, anyway. 
Some cases challenging grants to church-related col- 



A new phase in government-campus relations] dp. 



Is higher education losing control of its destiny? 



leges are now in the courts. And Congress is being 
pressed to pass legislation that would permit a cit- 
izen to challenge, in the Federal courts, the Con- 
gressional acts relating to higher education. 

Meanwhile, America's 893 church-related colleges 
are eligible for funds under most Federal programs 
supporting higher education, and nearly all have 
received such funds. Most of these institutions would 
applaud a decision permitting the support to con- 
tinue. 

Some, however, would not. The Southern Baptists 
and the Seventh Day Adventists, for instance, have 
opposed Federal aid to the colleges and universities 
related to their denominations. Furman University, 
for example, under pressure from the South Carolina 
Baptist convention, returned a $612,000 Federal 
grant that it had applied for and received. Many 
colleges are awaiting the report of a Southern Bap- 
tist study group, due this summer. 

Such institutions face an agonizing dilemma: 
stand fast on the principle of separation of church 
and state and take the financial consequences, or 
join the majority of colleges and universities and 
risk Federal influence. Said one delegate to the 
Southern Baptist Convention: "Those who say we're 
going to become second-rate schools unless we take 
Federal funds see clearly. I'm beginning to see it so 
clearly it's almost a nightmarish thing. I've moved 
toward Federal aid reluctantly; I don't like it." 

Some colleges and universities, while refusing 
Federal aid in principle, permit some exceptions. 
Wheaton College, in Illinois, is a hold-out; but it 
allows some of its professors to accept National 
Science Foundation research grants. So does Rock- 
ford College, in Illinois. Others shun government 
money, but let their students accept Federal schol- 
arships and loans. The president of one small church- 
related college, faced with acute financial problems, 
says simply: "The basic issue for us is survival." 



R 



-ECENT FEDERAL PROGRAMS have sharp- 
ened the conflict between Washington and the 
states in fixing the responsibility for education. 
Traditionally and constitutionally, the responsibility 
has generally been with the states. But as Federal 
support has equaled and surpassed the state alloca- 



tions to higher education, the question of responsi- 
bility is less clear. 

The great growth in quality and Ph.D. production 
of many state universities, for instance, is undoubtedly 
due in large measure to Federal support. Federal 
dollars pay for most of the scientific research in state 
universities, make possible higher salaries which at- 
tract outstanding scholars, contribute substantially 
to new buildings, and provide large amounts of 
student aid. Clark Kerr speaks of the "Federal 
grant university," and the University of California 
(which he used to head) is an apt example: nearly 
half of its total income comes from Washington. 

To most governors and state legislators, the Fed- 
eral grants are a mixed blessing. Although they have 
helped raise the quality and capabilities of state in- 
stitutions, the grants have also raised the pressure on 
state governments to increase their appropriations 
for higher education, if for no other reason than to 
fulfill the matching requirement of many Federal 
awards. But even funds which are not channeled 
through the state agencies and do not require the 
state to provide matching funds can give impetus to 
increased appropriations for higher education. Fed- 
eral research grants to individual scholars, for ex- 
ample, may make it necessary for the state to pro- 
vide more faculty members to get the teaching done. 




''''Many institutions not only do not look a gift horse 
in the mouth; they do not even pause to note whether 
it is a horse or a boa constrictor.^^ — John Gardner 



Last year, 38 states and territories joined the 
Compact for Education, an interstate organization 
designed to provide "close and continuing consulta- 
tion among our several states on all matters of educa- 
tion." The operating arm of the Compact will gather 
information, conduct research, seek to improve 
standards, propose policies, "and do such things as 
may be necessary or incidental to the administra- 
tion of its authority. ..." 

Although not sj^elled out in the formal language 
of the document, the Compact is clearly intended 
to enable the states to present a united front on the 
future of Federal aid to education. 



I 



.N TYPICALLY PRAGM.ATic FASHION, wc Ameri- 
cans want our colleges and universities to serve the 
public interest. We expect them to train enough 
doctors, lawyers, and engineers. VVe expect them to 
provide answers to immediate problems such as 
water and air pollution, urban blight, national 
defense, and disease. As we have done so often in 
the past, we expect the Federal government to build 
a creative and democratic system that will accom- 
plish these things. 

A faculty planning committee at one university 
stated in its report: "... A university is now re- 
garded as a symbol for our age, the crucible in which 
— by some mysterious alchemy — man's long-awaited 
Utopia will at last be forged." 

Some think the Federal role in higher education 
is growing too rapidly. 

As early as 1 952, the Association of American Uni- 
versities' commission on financing higher education 
warned: "VVe as a nation should call a halt at this 
time to the introduction of new programs of direct 
Federal aid to colleges and universities. . . . Higher 
education at least needs time to digest what it has 
already undertaken and to evaluate the full impact 
of what it is already doing under Federal assistance." 
The recommendation went unheeded. 

A year or so ago. Representative Edith Green of 
Oregon, an active architect of major education legis- 
lation, echoed this sentiment. The time has come, 
she said, "to stop, look, and listen," to evaluate the 
impact of Congressional action on the educational 
system. It seems safe to predict that Mrs. Green's 
warning, like that of the university presidents, will 
fail to halt the growth of Federal spending on the 
campus. But the note of caution she sounds will be 
well-taken by many who are increasingly concerned 



about the impact of the Federal involvement in 
higher education. 

The more pessimistic observers fear direct .Federal 
control of higher education. With the loyalty-oath 
conflict in mind, they see peril in the requirement 
that Federally supported colleges and universities 
demonstrate compliance with civil rights legislation 
or lose their Federal support. They express alarm 
at recent agency anti-conflict-of-interest proposals 
that would require scholars who receive government 
support to account for all of their other activities. 

For most who are concerned, however, the fear is 
not so much of direct Federal control as of Federal 
influence on the conduct of American higher educa- 
tion. Their worry is not that the government will 
deliberately restrict the freedom of the scholar, or 
directly change an institution of higher learning. 
Rather, they are afraid the scholar may be tempted 
to confine his studies to areas where Federal support 
is known to be available, and that institutions will 
be unable to resist the lure of Federal dollars. 

Before he became Secretary of Health, Education, 
and Welfare, John W. Gardner said: "When a gov- 
ernment agency with money to spend approaches a 
university, it can usually purchase almost any serv- 
ice it wants. And many institutions still follow the 
old practice of looking on funds so received as gifts. 
They not only do not look a gift horse in the mouth; 
they do not even pause to note whether it is a horse 
or a boa constrictor." 



T 



■ HE GREATEST OBSTACLE tO the SUCCCSS of the 

government-campus partnership may lie in the fact 
that the partners have different objectives. 

The Federal government's support of higher 
education has been essentially pragmatic. The Fed- 
eral agencies have a mission to fulfill. To the degree 
that the colleges and universities can help to fulfill 
that mission, the agencies provide support. 

The Atomic Energy Commission, for example, 
supports research and related activities in nuclear 
physics; the National Institutes of Health provide 
funds for medical research; the Agency for Interna- 
tional Development finances overseas programs. 
Even recent programs which tend to recognize higher 
education as a national resource in itself are basi- 
cally presented as efforts to cope with pressing 
national problems. 

The Higher Education Facilities Act, for instance, 
provides matching funds for the construction of 



\^ 



academic buildings. But the awards under this pro- 
gram are made on the basis of projected increases 
in enrollment. In the award of National Defense 
Graduate Fellowships to institutions, enrollment ex- 
pansion and the initiation of new graduate programs 
are the main criteria. Under new programs affecting 
medical and dental schools, much of the Federal 
money is intended to increase the number of practi- 
tioners. Even the National Humanities Endowment, 
which is the government's attempt to rectify an 
academic imbalance aggravated by massive Federal 
support for the sciences, is curiously and pragmati- 
cally oriented to fulfill a specific mission, rather than 
to support the humanities generally because they are 
worthy in themselves. 

Who can dispute the validity of such objectives.'* 
Surely not the institutions of higher learning, for 
they recognize an obligation to serve society by pro- 
viding trained manpower and by conducting applied 
research. But colleges and universities have other 
traditional missions of at least equal importance. 
Basic research, though it may have no apparent 
relevance to society's immediate needs, is a primary 
(and almost exclusive) function of universities. It 
needs no other justification than the scholar's curi- 
osity. The department of classics is as important in 
the college as is the department of physics, even 
though it does not contribute to the national de- 
fense. And enrollment expansion is neither an in- 
herent virtue nor a universal goal in higher educa- 
tion; in fact, some institutions can better fulfill their 
objectives by remaining relatively small and selec- 
tive. 

Colleges and universities believe, for the most 



Some people Jear that the colleges and universities are 
in danger of being remade in the Federal image. 



• o\ 



.® 



\oo\ 



%0\ 



• * 

o •/ 



When basic objectives differ^ whose will prevail? 



part, that they themselves are the best judges of 
what they ought to do, where they would like to go, 
and what their internal academic priorities are. For 
this reason the National Association of State Uni- 
versities and Land-Grant Colleges has advocated 
that the government increase its institutional (rather 
than individual project) support in higher education, 
thus permitting colleges and universities a reasonable 
latitude in using Federal funds. 

Congress, however, considers that it can best 
determine what the nation's needs are, and how the 
taxpayer's money ought to be spent. Since there is 
never enough money to do everything that cries to 
be done, the choice between allocating Federal funds 
for cancer research or for classics is not a very diffi- 
cult one for the nation's political leaders to make. 

"The fact is," says one professor, "that we are 
trying to merge two entirely different systems. The 
government is the political engine of our democ- 
racy and must be responsive to the wishes of the 
people. But scholarship is not very democratic. You 
don't vote on the laws of thermodynamics or take a 
poll on the speed of light. Academic freedom and 
tenure are not prizes in a popularity contest." 

Some observers feel that such a merger cannot be 
accomplished without causing fundamental changes 
in colleges and universities. They point to existing 
academic imbalances, the teaching-versus-research 
controversy, the changing roles of both professor 
and student, the growing commitment of colleges 
and universities to applied research. They fear that 
the influx of Federal funds into higher education 
will so transform colleges and universities that the 
very qualities that made the partnership desirable 
and productive in the first place will be lost. 

The great technological achievements of the past 
30 years, for example, would have been impossible 
without the basic scientific research that preceded 
them. This research — much of it seemingly irrele- 
vant to society's needs — was conducted in univer- 



sities, because only there could the scholar find the 
freedom and support that were essential to his quest. 
If the growing demand for applied research is met 
at the expense of basic research, future generations 
may pay the penalty. 

One could argue — and many do — that colleges 
and universities do not have to accept Federal funds. 
But, to most of the nation's colleges and universities, 
the rejection of Federal support is an unacceptable 
alternative. 

For those institutions already dependent upon 
Federal dollars, it is too late to turn back. Their 
physical plant, their programs, their personnel 
are all geared to continuing Federal aid. 

And for those institutions which have received 
only token help from Washington, Federal dollars 
offer the one real hope of meeting the educational 
objectives they have set for themselves. 



H 



owEVER DISTASTEFUL the thought may 
be to those who oppose further Federal involvement 
in higher education, the fact is that there is no other 
way of getting the job done — to train the growing 
number of students, to conduct the basic research 
necessary to continued scientific progress, and to 
cope with society's most pressing problems. 

Tuition, private contributions, and state alloca- 
tions together fall far short of meeting the total cost 
of American higher education. And as costs rise, the 
gap is likely to widen. Tuition has finally passed the 
S2,000 mark in several private colleges and univer- 
sities, and it is rising even in the publicly supported 
institutions. State governments have increased their 
appropriations for higher education dramatically, 
but there are scores of other urgent needs competing 
for state funds. Gifts from private foundations, cor- 





porations, and alumni continue to rise steadily, but 
the increases are not keeping pace with rising costs. 

Hence the continuation and probably the enlarge- 
ment of the partnership between the Federal gov- 
ernment and higher education appears to be in- 
evitable. The real task facing the nation is to make 
it work. 

To that end, colleges and universities may have to 
become more deeply involved in politics. They will 
have to detennine, more clearly than ever before, 
just what their objectives are — and what their values 
are. And they will have to communicate these most 
effectively to their alumni, their political representa- 
tives, the corporate community, the foundations, 
and the public at large. 

If the partnership is to succeed, the Federal gov- 
ernment will have to do more than provide funds. 
Elected officials and administrators face the awesome 
task of formulating overall educational and research 
goals, to give direction to the programs of Federal 
support. They must make more of an eflfort to under- 
stand what makes colleges and universities tick, and 
to accommodate individual institutional differences. 



T 



.HE TAXPAYiNG PUBLIC, and particularly 
alumni and alumnae, will play a crucial role in the 



evolution of the partnership. The degree of their 
understanding and support will be reflected in future 
legislation. And, along with private foundations and 
corporations, alumni and other friends of higher 
education bear a special responsibility for providing 
colleges and universities with financial support. The 
growing role of the Federal government, says the 
president of a major oil company, makes corporate 
contributions to higher education more important 
than ever before; he feels that private support en- 
ables colleges and universities to maintain academic 
balance and to preserve their freedom and indepen- 
dence. The president of a university agrees: "It is 
essential that the critical core of our colleges and 
universities be financed with non-Federal funds." 

"What is going on here," says McGeorge Bundy, 
"is a great adventure in the purpose and perform- 
ance of a free people." The partnership between 
higher education and the Federal government, he 
believes, is an experiment in American democracy. 

Essentially, it is an effort to combine the forces 
of our educational and political systems for the com- 
mon good. And the partnership is distinctly Ameri- 
can — boldly built step by step in full public view, 
inspired by visionaries, tested and tempered by 
honest skeptics, forged out of practical political 
compromise. 

Does it involve risks? Of course it does. But what 
great adventure does not? Is it not by risk-taking 
that free — and intelligent — people progress? 



The report on this and the preceding 15 
pages is the product of a cooperative en- 
deavor in which scores of schools, colleges, 
and universities are taking part. It was pre- 
pared under the direction of the group listed 
below, who form editorial projects for 
EDUCATION, a non-profit organization associ- 
ated with the American Alumni Council. 



DENTON BEAL 

Carnegie Institute of Technology 

DAVID A. BURR 

The University of Oklahoma 

GEORGE H. COLTON 

Dartmouth College 

DAN ENDSLEY 

Stanford University 

MARALYN O. GILLESPIE 

Swarthmore College 



CHARLES M. HELMKEN 

American Alumni Council 

GEORGE C. KELLER 

Columbia University 

JOHN I. MATTILL 

M assachusetts Institute of Technology 

KEN METZLER 

The University of Oregon 

RUSSELL OLIN 

The University of Colorado 



Naturally, in a report of such length and 
scope, not all statements necessarily reflect 
the views of all the persons involved, or of 
their institutions. Copyright © 1967 by Edi- 
torial Projects for Education, Inc. All rights 
reserved; no part may be reproduced without 
the express permission of the editors. Printed 
in U.S.A. 



JOHN W. PATON 

Wesleyan University 

ROBERT M. RHODES 

The University of Pennsylvania 

STANLEY SAPLIN 

New York University 

VERNE A. STADTMAN 

The University of California 

FREDERIC A. STOTT 

Phillips Academy, Andover 



FRANK J. TATE 

The Ohio State University 

CHARLES E. WIDMAYER 

Dartmouth College 

DOROTHY F. WILLIAMS 

Simmons College 

RONALD A. WOLK 

The Johns Hopkins University 

ELIZABETH BOND WOOD 

Sweet Briar College 



CHESLEY WORTHINGTON 

Brown University 
* 



# 



CORBIN GWALTNEY 

Executive Editor 



JOHN A. GROWL 

Associate Editor 



WILLIAM A. MILLER, JR. 

Managing Editor 





B. ERNEST SHORE 

helps account to him why many Swedes in compara- 
tively modest walks of life have a surprisingly ade- 
quate knowledge of English. The school system today 
is formalizing in this respect what had long been a 
tendency and which would benefit from some ad- 
ministrative regularization. 

But what is likely to draw the most interest is the 
compulsory sex education. This is a theme which 
various states in the American union have dealt with 
to varying extents and which none has solved. In 
Sweden sex instruction begins with the very first year 
of school; information is progressively given on the 
difference between the sexes, how babies come about, 
and what their pre-natal development is. With the 
second section (the pupils are now ten years of age), 
the instruction shifts into higher gear; the structure of 
the sexual organs, puberty, menstruation, conception, 
pregnancy, contraceptives, venereal disease, various 
aberrations, etc., are all dealt with and made more 
impressive, where appropriate, by audio-visual aids. 
Sex education continues through the final year of the 
Comprehensive School, in which all classes are co- 



educational at which lime the instruction is particularly 
intense because the pupils are now sixteen years of 
age and may be terminating their formal schooling 
altogether. Throughout the whole program textbooks 
and manuals on sex have been used, television on open 
and closed circuits has come into play, and bordering 
subjects such as religion, biology, social studies, etc., 
have treated the sex theme in a deliberately open 
and scientifically detached manner as befitting a natural 
phase of human activity. The Swedish authorities 
grant that the proper place for sex education is in the 
home, but they arc also realists enough to know that 
many homes are not intellectually or emotionally cap- 
able of imparting this knowledge which experience 
and common sense show to be fundamental to the 
well-being of the individual. Therefore, as with wel- 
fare programs, the State has at least temporarily taken 
over the care of its citizens in this field as well. 
It is too early yet to evaluate the efficacy of sex edu- 
cation in Sweden, though it may not be irrelevant to 
indicate that the ratio of illegitimacy has declined in 
recent years from 12% to 10%. 

A further point that the observer might note in 
regard to the Comprehensive School is that Swedish 
pupils overwhelmingly choose the "theoretical" elec- 
tives when the opportunity arises at the beginning of 
their third section of time. When the drift in the 
rest of Europe and America is away from the humani- 
ties, it is interesting to see that in Sweden 52% of the 
pupils in their seventh year selected German or French, 
and only 2% chose handcraft, at the other end of the 
option spectrum. Two reasons are advanced for this 
unusual state of affairs. The humanities have always 
been regarded in Sweden as the surest road to the 
gymnasium and the university, and eventually to good 
positions in the prestigious civil service or professions. 
Status-conscious parents persuade their children to 
make the choice that seems to lead to the most re- 
warding future. If the children should eventually end 
up as drop-outs, the readjustment to technical and vo- 
cational programs is easier to make than the other way 
round. Furthermore, Swedish as a language does not 
have very wide currency. To be in touch with the rest 
of the world, to tap its cultural resources and to ad- 
vance his personal intersts, a Swede must know at 
least one of the major world languages. What with 
the many Swedes in America and the British Com- 
monwealth, and the tremendous cultural and economic 
significance of the language itself, English is far and 
beyond the most popular foreign language in Sweden, 
with German a medium second and French a distant 
third. Enrolments in Russian and other languages, 
though not non-existent, are negligible. 



17 



An item of mild interest in the Comprehensive School 
curriculum is the three-week practical session in real 
working conditions required of all eighth year pupils. 
Again it is the parents who really make the decision, 
whether the child will spend this time in an office, 
shop, or factory. Over 3,000 pupils in the city of 
Malmo, south Sweden, were polled as to their opinion 
of the whole experience. The result was revelationary. 
More than 90% stated that they had too little to do, 
others maintained they had learned very little, and all 
wrote that they didn't enjoy the project. Unfortunately 
the hosts were not polled as to their reactions, but it 
is safe to assume that they do not welcome the inter- 
ruption in regular routine that bevies of fifteen-year- 
olds would cause. The part of the new program most 
likely to be scrapped early is this "work-experience." 

When a pupil has finished the Comprehensive School 
he has open to him several possibilities for the future. 
He may now end his formal education altogether and 
go into industry, commerce, or agriculture, or he may 
enter without examination a "continuation" school 



which offers programs, less exacting than the gymna- 
sium, in general education, economics, or technical 
subjects. About 25% of the students make this choice. 
On the other hand about 35% choose the three year 
program of the gymnasium, which has a set of com- 
pulsory subjects that take up half the total time and 
an array of five specialties from which to select to 
spend the remainder of the time. These specialties 
are arts, science, economics, political science, and 
technology, but comparisons with American programs 
are more difficult to make at this stage. Suffice it to 
state that the standard of achievement is by and large 
similar to that of our junior college level, which also 
happens to correspond to the age span of the students. 
Religion is neither a required subject nor an option, 
sex education is carefully reviewed, Latin enters as an 
elective, and such novelties as comparative linguistics 
are available. 

Perhaps the most interesting single item in the 
present gymnasium set-up is the abolition of the old 
student bugbear — the final examination. Now, just the 

(Continued on Page Thirty-one) 



Swedish Information Service 



Main building of the University of Uppsala (founded 1477), central Sweden. 




Must Realism Continue ? 



By LAWRENCE H. CONRAD 

Professor of English 
University of San Diego, College for Men 

Realism in American art and letters has been played 
out for a long, long time. Yet it continues. The 
public has been poised, ready for the swing toward 
romanticism and all that realm of loveliness we so 
much enjoy. Months pass; a year; two years. Still the 
swing does not begin. Winter came, but the spring did 
not follow. Can it be that there is something wrong with 
the mechanism? This cycle has been inevitable for cen- 
turies and centuries; surely it is not going to fail us 
now! It cannot fail, of course, unless some new factor, 
never before present, has entered quietly into the ar- 
rangements for the artistic seasons, to paralyse them 
and hold us indefinitely at this long, long equinox. 

Such a factor is indeed present, operating more 
powerfully in America than anywhere else in the world. 
It can be held to account for the fact that America 
alone has not participated in any romantic-art trend 
for many, many years. 

The new factor is advertising, which has become in 
a very genuine sense, an art. In America it is the 
wealthiest of all the arts, the most frequently encoun- 
tered, the most influential. Because it has taken during 
the last few decades to employing all the other arts, 
it has become, with relation to them, the master art. 
It is as though all of the arts had gone into a merger, 
with advertising as the holding-company in charge. This 
it is that has disturbed the normal swing of the "sea- 
sons" in art. The arts, unaccustomed to direction by 
any master, have made no adequate protest against the 
thing that is happening to them. 

Formerly in America, and even now in all other 
civilized countries, the influence of advertising upon the 
arts could not cause much concern. Advertising com- 
mercialized a few artists, usually not the best ones. Its 
traffic was with the artist as an individual. But in re- 
cent years, the radio and the TV, more than anything 
else, have so greatly extended the influence of adver- 
tising over the arts as to reveal what it is we are "in 
for." In the field of music alone, the finest artists and 
the greatest musical organizations in the country derive 
support from various advertising budgets, and the pro- 
grams they furnish are supposed to yield a return to 
their patrons. The venture has been highly successful. 

As a result, the business man has become accustomed 
to having artists working for him in the studio, and 




he has been quick to see the advantage of employing 
other artists in his office and even in his shop. Thus 
the force of art, which has advanced mankind to the 
present level of culture and civilization, has been har- 
nessed, so to speak, to the cart of commerce. I say 
this plainly, as a self-evident fact, without meaning in 
the least to be nasty about it. 

The effect upon the arts has been electric. Some 
phases of all of them have been stimulated; other 
phases of all of them have been immobilized. When art 
was free, and nothing came between the artist and his 
gods, the movements in art were fairly regular, varying 
only as the constancy of human nature. Under the new 
direction, the arts are guided by a system of rewards 
and encouragements in directions they might not other- 
wise have taken. Formerly, they remained close to the 
naked spirit of man. Now they obey a rein. And 
though the spirit of man may be ready and waiting to 
swing through the upper arc of the cycle of his moods, 
the whole impulse has been arrested. Something for- 
eign to the mission of art has got caught in the ma- 
chinery. 

The business world has appropriated only certain 
moods of art, and has decreed that these moods shall 
be permanent. The business world is interested prim- 
arily in selling soap and shoes and oil and tobacco, and 
only secondarily in supporting the arts. Hence it has 



19 



given heavy support to the side of art that can pro- 
mote sales, and no support at all anywhere else. 

The kind of art for which "good money" is paid is 
constant. In whatever medium it is expressed, it must 
echo the theme song of business. It must have a lift 
and a leap; it must be an urge and a compulsion; it 
must suggest high motives, high praise, and a high de- 
gree of satisfaction to the purchaser. It can never drop 
to plain speaking, to commonplace assertion, to the 
representation of things as they are. In short, the 
business world has appropriated all of art's romantic 
tendencies to its own uses. Romantic art has been 
"elevated" to commercial uses; realism has been 
dropped from the pay-roll. The artist, therefore, turns 
out romantic works for hire. And when he gets a day 
off for expressing himself, he must needs go realistic 
in order to avoid the appearance of evil. 

One has only to look through a popular magazine to 
see a striking application of what I am saying. The 
world as represented in the advertising section has snap 
and sparkle. In that world people are well-dressed; 
people laugh and play; they take untold ease; they drive 
incredible motor cars past magnificent clubs, accompan- 
ied by slender Russian wolfhounds. And conversely, 
in the body of the magazine, where writer and artist 
work upon their own impulses, life is represented as 
being comparatively drab and shabby. Men rob houses, 
and drink bad whisky, and shoot each other, and suffer 
pain, and revolt against stagnant surroundings. So long 
as the one type of art is held fixed, by decree of the 
Board of Directors, the other type will be the artist's 
only relief from compulsion and domination. After all, 
an artist has to be allowed to have a little self-respect. 
For the reader and appreciator, also, realism be- 
comes a kind of sanctuary. We have come to suspect, 
whenever any part of life is rendered glamorous by 
art, that somebody behind it has something to sell. 
Realism must remain with us, because at the moment, 
it is the only unsubsidized — and therefore innocent — 
aspect of art. We are not going to swing into the ro- 
mantic cycle in literature and art, because the romantic 
thing is identified largely with the commercial in our 
minds. 

This rupture has brought about a curious state of 
affairs, particularly among youngsters who are looking 
forward to life and are planning their careers. Time 
was when advertising was a game for the practical 
and disillusioned member of the family; real artistry 
was for the impractical visionary; but not any longer. 
A reversal has set in that makes the reasoning of young 
folks sound like passages out of "Alice in Wonderland." 



If you are willing to do hack-work in the arts (and 
make a fortune at it), you must be of the romantic 
strain. If you insist on being all artist of the starve- 
in-a-garret type, you must go realistic in order to avoid 
the appearance of commercialism. But a person natur- 
ally romantic does not care to make a fortune. Ergo, 
he must have it thrust upon him. And a person na- 
turally practical and realistic, who probably desires a 
fortune, must go without one. Everybody in our part 
of the world, artist or layman, is sick and tired of the 
lingering, harrowing, long last-suffering of the realism 
of this century. Yet no one, layman or artist, could 
stand more glamour and romance than advertising has 
already woven about every commodity that is offered 
for sale. We have come to a stand; we are on a dead 
center. 

Advertisers know that, in sponsoring works of art, 
they win for themselves and their products the highest 
kind of goodwill. Many of them have already come to 
realize that the art they sponsor is only degraded by 
containing specific references to refrigerators, house 
paint, headache tablets, and garden hose. The next step 
is for them to realize that in attaching their commo- 
dities always to one phase of art, they are only being 
annoying and boresome, and are causing themselves 
and their goods to be thought of with distaste. 

It is not that romance is dead. It is that romance is 
working for a living. If the business world continues 
to impress romanticism, and that alone, as a mere ad- 
junct of the sales force, then realism must remain the 
only resort of those artists who have high artistic integ- 
rity. And these are always the greatest artists. Even- 
tually, perhaps, they will be impelled to a realism so 
truth-telling as to undermine the whole commercial 
structure. A good and free art can be used by business 
organizations only for creating abstract goodwill. It 
cannot be used for hawking goods. 

Realism must continue, in America at least, until 
the business world learns to touch art without leaving 
crude fingerprints around the edges. Art has always 
found a kind of refuge under the wing of whatever in- 
stitution happened to be governing the pattern of life. 
In our age, that institution is business. But the de- 
mands which business has so far made upon art are 
extremely shortsighted and ill-advised. It is to be hoped 
that a steadily-dawning intelligence among business 
leaders will soon bring to an end the practice of using 
art to lend a roseate glow to advertising copy. A dig- 
nified patronage over a normal and healthy art would be 
a higher calling for the business man. And it might 
even be better business. 



20 



Montclair Alumni Forum Offers its Second Venture into the Field oj Prose Fiction 



Social Call 

By HERBERT V. OGDEN, '35 



Mac had put oflf going, because he didn't know what 
to say. In fact he might by now be getting off the 
subway and giving up the idea, except that he had 
called them up in advance and said that he was 
coming. He tipped back his head and studied an ad, 
as though he were really worried about the film-re- 
moving efficacy of his present toothpaste. The artist 
would have been flattered to see the tenseness of his 
forehead. But actually he was trying to avoid think- 
ing of the duty-call which lay before him, and he was 
not succeeding. 

When he got off the subway, he found that he had 
forgotten the address. But that wouldn't work. There 
was a drug store and its all-too-handy phone book. 
He couldn't forget Spice's name. "All Spice", they 
used to call him. Mac scribbled the street and number 
on an old envelope. He wouldn't have to stay long, any- 
way. 

The buzzer let him in, and he went up to the third 
floor. Mrs. Spice was at the door. Somehow he had 
known that Mrs. Spice would be the first one he'd see. 

"My name's Mac Sorley." 

"I'm Marvin's mother." She smiled, and they shook 
hands. "Just come on in now. This is Marvin's father. 
And Marvin's sister Jeannette — and his brother James." 
They exchanged greetings. Mac noticed how prim 
and serious-straight the children were. 

"I think I'd know you all from the pictures Marvin 
had in his bill-fold," Mac said, and it sounded to him 
more than ever a lie because of saying "Marvin". He 
set his mind to do no more lying. "We used to call 
him 'All Spice' — just a nick-name, you know. Wc all 
had them. 

Mr. Spice sat back, somehow satisfied. 

"That's his picture on the mantel," Mrs. Spice said. 

"Yes, I see. It's a nice picture." There was a 
pause. 

"Well, I guess it's pretty fine to be out of the Navy," 
Mr. Spice said. 

"Yes it is . . . You sec, knowing All Spice came 
from right in the same city, and having known each 
other on the ship and all, I thought it would be nice — 




HERBERT V. OGDEN 



I mean, there might be something you'd want to know 
or something." 

"That was very nice of you," Mrs. Spice said, and 
swallowed once. The girl came to sit in her mother's 
lap. Mrs. Spice gave her a slight automatic hug, but 
otherwise seemed not to have noticed. Her voice was 
low. "There are many things we'd like to . . . Did 
you see it happen?'' 

"Well — in a way. It's like a picture you have in 
your mind. All Spice was there — carrying ammo to 
one of the twenties, I think. I was on the bridge — be- 
ing I was the signal-man — then the bomb hit, and he 
wasn't there any more. I was in the water pretty soon 
after that — so that's all there is to say .... It isn't 



21 



much, I know." 

"You told it fine," Mr. Spice said. Jeannette began 
to sob, and Mrs. Spice gently shushed the head against 
her shoulder. The boy got up and went into the other 
room. It grew very quiet. 

This was what Mac had dreaded — you had to go 
on when there wasn't anything. "We used to sing a 
lot. Marvin — All Spice, that is — had a good voice. 
I guess you know. Anyway, we asked him to sing 
solos sometimes, and he was good. There was a fel- 
low had a guitar — but I guess your son wrote you about 
aU that." 

"Yes, Marvin wrote," Mrs. Spice said. 

Mac had an impulse. He dug out his wallet. "1 
have some Jap occupation money here. Your son had 
some too — I think. He probably would have showed 
you. This is what the Japs paid the Philippinos with, 
instead of robbing them outright. It was the same thing, 
of course; worthless money." Mac showed Mr. Spice, 
explaining some more and looking up occasionally to 
include Mrs. Spice and the little girl, who began to 
dry her eyes. Mac decided not to tell the story of how 
All Spice got pushed over-board one day. It was the 
kind of trick that might have been pulled on anyone, 
but they probably wouldn't understand. "That's yours," 
Mac said, giving the little girl one of the bills and then 
returning to his seat. "Maybe your brother would hke 
one too — do you think?" 

"James. Mr. Mac Sorley has something for you. 
Come on in here now," Mrs. Spice said, half persuad- 
ing, half ordering. James entered, moving with knees 
that wouldn't bend. He looked at his mother. 

"I'm the one who has the money to give. Why 
don't you come over here and see me?" Mac argued. 
James came slowly, his hands behind his back. Mac 
held up the note. 

"We licked the Japs," James blurted. 

"Sure," Mac said. "Otherwise our money might 
be just paper now, too." 

"That's just paper," James stated gravely. They 
laughed, and James enjoyed his joke. It didn't mat- 
ter that he didn't understand it. 

"It's for a souvenir, take it," Mac said. James took 
it, and ran from the room again. Mac felt thankful 
that the children were there. Yet he wanted to say 
something more about All Spice, too. He decided 
against remarking that All Spice should have had a 
better chance to make a rating — and he couldn't 
think of anything else. 



"Say 'Thank you'," Mrs. Spice called out to James. 
There was only giggling for answer, and then a rubber 
ball was thrown from behind the curtain. Mac picked 
it up, as intended, and kept watch for James to ap- 
pear. 

"When Marvin was young, he was different," Mrs. 
Spice said. "He never did warm up much to, ah, 
people." Mr. Spice rubbed his hands hard, as though 
working up to something. 

"Anyone not colored, she means," Mr. Spice said. 
Mac nodded understandingly. "Before he went away," 
Mr. Spice said, "he called it 'a white man's war'. We 
couldn't tell much from his letters, and we got to 
wondering how it was — later." 

For the first time, Mac felt really glad he had come. 

"At first, he stayed clear of us whites, mostly," Mac 
said. "But then after a while he got to be, well, just 
one of the boys," he said. 

"I'm glad," Mrs. Spice said. Her husband looked 
pleased, too. 

When James appeared in the doorway, Mac tossed 
the ball back to him; and this advanced the game a 
mite. Mac wished he could say or do more. He 
wanted progress not to be such a slow thing. 



National Teacher Corps 

(Continued from Page Thirteen) 

ments of our culture. The very sense of dedication of 
the Teacher Corps intern needs to be shared by those 
responsible for the investment in education — particu- 
larly in teacher education. 

Appraised in terms of its brief period of develop- 
ment and its modest financial resources, the National 
Teacher Corps has released a significant refinement in 
the education of teachers. Many participating insti- 
tutions have already applied their Teacher Corps pro- 
cesses to their regular programs. Increasing applica- 
tion of the laboratory approach is evident. Experience 
in performing educational service is becoming a grea- 
ter part of the process of educating teachers. Further- 
more, seen in perspective, the laboratory approach, 
that is proving itself for teachers of the disadvantaged, 
offers as much for other teachers as well. It is prob- 
able that within the decade the fifth year internship 
will have become established as the standard for 
teacher education throughout the land. 



22 



The Classics: 
Are They Expendable? 

By GEORGK K. HARRISTON, '49 



At the end of THE ROMAN WAY, Edith Hamilton 
writes: 

History repeats itself. The fact is a testi- 
mony to human stupidity. The statement has 
become a truism; nevertheless, the study of 
the past is relegated to the scholar and the 
schoolboy. And yet it is really a chart for 
our guidance — no less than that. 

It is becoming more and more apparent that the 
powers which shape our modern high school curricula 
do not share Miss Hamilton's opinions on the import- 
ance of the past to the present. At one time in our 
society, almost every high school student was exposed 
to classical languages and to a study of the history of 
the ancient world; a history which has helped to shape 
the organization and institutions of our modern world. 
Today, one is hard pressed to find many schools which 
even offer a course in the life of that once great and 
influential period in the history of the world. As far 
as the study of classical languages is concerned, many 
of our schools are following the spurious philosophy 
that what is old is no longer good or useful. Excessive 
modernity is a dangerous thing. 

Faced with the continual problem of justifying to 
administrators and colleagues and guidance counselors, 
the reasons for retaining some vestige of the classics 
in secondary schools, classicists have begun to take a 
new tack. No longer do they restate the old, inaccurate 
cliches. No longer do they allow themselves to be put 
in the ridiculous position of justifying something which 
by its mere existence and venerability justifies itself. 
If the study of Geometry needs no justification, then 
why should Latin? If a study of the French Revolu- 
tion needs no justification, then why should a study 
of the Punic Wars? The classicists are re-acquiring 
their dignity and asserting their rights as legitimate 
members of the educational society. 

This "new" classicist is moving in significant direc- 
tions. He is realizing that he must fight the enemy with 
effective weapons — not just words. Painfully, some- 
times, he is shedding worn-out theory and practice. 
He is no longer teaching Latin the way it was taught 
in 1850. New and exciting methods and programs are 
being developed which may go a long way in bringing 



back to the Latin classroom the intelligent, sensitive 
and conscientious student who has deserted the classi- 
cal for the modern. He no longer looks upon the 
study of modern languages as a dilettante pursuit, nor 
does he show a willingness to let the modern language 
experts give all the cues and directions for effective 
language teaching. He is becoming a part of the whole, 
his isolation is ending. He realizes that his survival 
depends in great part upon his ability to move ahead 
in a rapidly changing world. 

The problem of administrative disinterest and the 
decline of student enrollment in the classics has been 
encountered in England, as well as in the United States. 
In what they call their "modern" schools, the English 
have instituted a course in Classical Studies. In con- 
tent, this course offers English translations of the best 
of Greek and Latin literature, and exposes the student 
to the history and culture of the ancient world. Ideally, 
any classicist prefers to have students study the lan- 
guages of antiquity. However, in all practicality, he 
realizes that students pursuing such studies are, and 
no doubt will continue to be, limited in number. The 
English plan has proven to be a practical one and a 
logical way of acquainting students with the "grandeur 
and the glory"; an acquaintance which otherwise might 
never be encountered. 

For a considerable time in our country, the knowl- 
edge which high school graduates had of classical life 
and literature uslially came from senior English classes. 
Unfortunately, far too many English teachers are re- 
luctant to approach Greek drama and philosophy or 
the poetry and political treatises of the Romans. Con- 
tinually, many college literature professors are shocked 
and dismayed at the limited knowledge of classical 
literature which their students have. Too often, the 
prospective English teacher has to sit through a so- 
called "world literature" course in which only a brief 
excursion is made into classical examples. A strong 
grounding in ancient history, philosophy, and literature 
is essential for anyone who would venture to teach 
the classics in translation. The "new" classicist is 
available and generally willing to serve whenever the 
occasion arises. 

And this new classicist is needed more than ever 
todav. In such a tcchnolosical societv as that in which 



23 



we live, the dehumanizing of education is an ever- 
present danger. We are teaching more and more by 
machine, tape, and projector. The teacher, as we now 
define him, may be rapidly becoming extinct. The 
classicist, by the very nature of his discipline, must 
deal with the human side of life; its moral, religious, 
and philosophical aspects. His medium is people, and 
through his investigation of their manifold facets, he 
brings to his students a greater appreciation of the im- 
mense contributions which man, through the ages, has 
made to the evolving civilization. Indeed, he may be 
that last hope, that remaining force which can turn 
the tide from growing disenchantment to a renewal 



of human aspirations for the beautiful and the good. 

"It is worth our while to perceive that the 
final reason for Rome's defeat was the failure 
of mind and spirit to rise to a new and 
great opportunity, to meet the challenge of 
new and great events." 

So states Edith Hamilton. How much we yet have to 
learn from the classical world! How tragic it would 
be if we should adamantly continue on a path which 
increasingly compounds our modern conceit as we 
ignore our beginnings, our traditions, and the study 
of the human spirit! 



In Memory of Ethel J. Littlefield 

Within the silent treasures of my heart, 
Where only Beauty's nobleness holds sway, 
There shines a face and form which once were part 
Of hopes and dreams held in a fast flown day. 
That gentle voice, that way of smiling so 
As I was led into the paths of gold. 
Is like an evening's song heard long ago 
Which sweetly on the heart retains its hold. 
And as the years have run with fevered pace. 
And this new spring spells winter coming fast, 
How changeless is the warmth of that dear face. 
Which ever calls to mind my cherished past. 

I know that while I live, remembered grace 
Shall never fade though time these words erase. 

George E. Harriston 



24 



Three Poems from the New Volume Called 

Three Voices 

(See Announcement on Hditorial Page) 



BREATH OF THE MORNING 

What in the world can be the matter? 

What indeed but the breakfast chatter 

Of a thousand grackles on our lawn! 

And a thousand more in the dew-drenched trees! 

To pull me from bed and warmth and ease 

Into the air to see the show! 

Nothing but grackles everywhere! 
From dripping trees to the ground below! 
Bob-bobbing their glossy green-sheened heads 
In tune to their waddling metric walk, 
And cheerful, dinful blackbird talk. 

When of a sudden — Oh, wondrous scene! 
As those on high in a gliding dream 
Earthward stream in an inky rain! 
While waves of dark wings upward fly 
Re-crossing those that earthward fall 
In one wing-thundering refrain! 
Like some loved thought in sweet recall! 

In six heart beats of startled joy!. 
In four winks at the morning sun! 
In one six-second ecstasy! 
It all was here, and then was done! 

And now all is as it was before 
As those above look down below 
To where new breakfasters now dine. 
And bob, and waddle to and fro 



Cack-cacking their cheerful breakfast din. 
And I think upon my wife within. 
And turning to the half-closed door. 
I shout to her to "Come and see!" 

And then that urge within us all 

That would possess joy's airy bliss 

And hold it forever in the hand 

As the loved moment was, and is. 

Sets me on to a further plea. 

"And bring your camera's memory!" 

I shout! . . . Encore! . . . And then — implore! 

But once again the gears of time 
Within each blackbird trip their chime, 
And skyward again the grackles soar. 
This time to go, but come no more. 

For into the woods like dreams they go — 
A thunder of wings, and then — a hush 
Dripping like tears from tree and bush. 

And so time's birds have flown away. 
Into the sudden past they've flown. 
Leaving a silence on the heart 
Of something there but vaguely known. 
Yet known but once will never pass. 

For all of the morning is now — forever! 
All of the morning so good and fair! 
The wonder of morning shall vanish — never! 
Breath of the morning — everywhere! 

— Arthur Bramhall. "31 



25 



from THREE VOICES 



NO DARK ETERNAL 

There can be no dark eternal 

So long as eye may see 

Spiral flame of ivy 'twined 

Round proud green cedars in the fall. 

Or along the road the quickened glance 

May pick purple asters 

Quivering softly amid the yellowing fields. 

Or beyond that lower pasture we can catch 

An apple tree, Argus-eyed, 

Smiling its red fruit to the mellowing sun. 

No dark eternal can there be 

So long as time is ringed with light. 

Cedar, aster, apple-tree. 

Hold back the eyelids of the night! 

— Herman M. Ward, '35 



THIS APRIL HOUR 

A meaning more than spring is in the air 
This April hour. I hear strange heralds sing 
Of prodigies magnificent and rare 
The world will never cease remembering. 

New music beats its harmonies tonight 
In some young poet's heart, and somewhere now 
A fevered painter lets his brush take flight, 
A sculptor wakes to see a vision grow. 

Electric is the word for such a time, 
As even I, who limped along before 
Discover in the darkness I can climb 
From star to star within my being's core 
And feel the sudden touch of One whose power 
Inflames the spirit in this April hour. 

— Eugene T. Maleska, 37 



26 



Our Institutional Pied Piper 
THE COMMUNITY COLLEGE 



By RAYMOND C. LEWIN 

Dean of Edward Williams College 




DR. RAYMOND C. LEWIN, '50 
Member of the Passaic County College Study Committee 



The Community College movement has caught on 
with a flourish. State after state has joined the parade. 
Community Colleges are opening all over the country- 
side with astounding rapidity. New Jersey already has 
four such institutions in operation, with at least 15 
more in one or another stage of development. 

I wonder if it isn't time for someone to turn the 
music down and deliver a speech from the back of the 
bandwagon to the crowd so eagerly marching along. 
Not that the parade is going to end, for it obviously 
will not, but at least to dignify the procession with 
some honest and frank comments to you, in the crowd, 
as to why you are so enthusiastically parading. 

There are three real and very logical pressures which 



are combining to condition you to the necessity of 
parading. The first of these would become immediately 
evident if you were to wander through the Garden 
State Plaza in Paramus, a vast shopping-center com- 
plex, and pause in front of the Peoples Trust Com- 
pany offices. In this area, where probably a shoe store 
had gone down to defeat, now stand key punch ma- 
chines, sorters, and computers all busily engaged in 
bank business and all just as busily replacing people 
who once had to do this work. The employees currently 
minding the store are a new vintage of machine tenders, 
programmers, and I guess interpreters of one kind or 
another, people with different skills and a higher level 
of skill than the bank once needed — but I'm sure 
fewer people to do the jobs than would have been 
needed without the automatic devices. This, of course, 
is merely a small incidence of what you are all most 
keenly aware of — the onslaught of automation. 

This pressure has brought with it not only demands 
for new skills and better skills, it has brought with it 
the specter of non-use of people without skills. It has 
brought with it the type of headline story which ap- 
peared in a local paper recently — "Some Plants Feel 
Labor Shortage-Many in Area Looking for Help" — 
and in the center of this story another headline, one 
which said, "Three Cities Jobless Level Nearing 
20,000." The difference between skill and non-skill is 
education, the difference between the type of skill re- 
quired and unemployment is increasing education of a 
more specialized nature than is adaptable to the high 
school level. The problem then creates the pressure, 
it looks as if the community college can be designed 
to accommodate, one: the training of skilled people, 
and two: the retraining of people whose skills have 
been automated out of existence. 

A second logical pressure has erupted out of a boom- 
ing economy. There is money around today, more 
people are enjoying the fruits of this expanding af- 
fluence. With prosperity comes a redefinition of per- 
sonal goals, the family that has to work to eat and pay 
the rent, oftimes sets its expectations for sons and 
daughters in these basic terms. The family that is 
more or less comfortable looks upon advanced educa- 
tion as a way on up for the offspring. This fact alone 



27 



has produced an increasing demand for college en- 
trance, a demand which can be met only by the crea- 
tion of more college spaces and new institutions. This 
pressure which is normal and legitimate is compounded, 
however, by two gray areas of near illegitimacy. One, 
the idea that it is more prestigious for the son or 
daughter to go to college than to go to work. Some- 
how this makes the parent feel that he is more suc- 
cessful; and secondly, who wants to work anyway when 
he can be an executive or a manager or a banker? 
By all this I mean there is a tendency on the part of 
the blue-collar parents to want a white-collar life for 
their children. This, as I have suggested, is normal 
and legitimate or abnormal and illegitimate, depend- 
ing on the reasoning behind it. 

Despite value judgments, the pressure is nevertheless 
real and intense and growing more real and more in- 
tense. 

Community colleges which are there, close by, and 
reasonably non-selective, open college doors in the 
formal sense of traditional college. 

I might pause here for a moment to call your atten- 
tion to a strange paradox, an almost schizophrenic 
situation. Industry and business are demanding skilled 
technicians, draftsman, programmers, and the like — all 
work-type jobs in white collars, but in the blue-collar 
sense of work. This demand is urgent, the money is 
good. Parents, on the other hand, are looking toward 
the traditional concept of college, and kids are being 
brainwashed by their parents, by their peers, and by 
the schools themselves into a thought pattern which 
incessantly says college, college, college, in academic 
and traditional terms. If all the mothers had their 
way, this country would have nothing but doctors, 
lawyers, and dentists — and since I am writing for the 
Montclair Alumni, perhaps a teacher here and there. 
If the schools had their way, no program not aca- 
demic would be run, and all kids would be college 
material. I suspect if the kids had their way, there 
would not be much of a problem; but unfortunately it's 
the rare kid who can withstand society, his teachers, 
and mamma. 

The word society leads me to a third logical pressure. 
This country is education-minded. We have a deep 



commitment to schooling and particularly public 
schooling, a commitment which once said common 
schools for all, then the eighth grade grammar schools 
for all, then the high school for all, and now appears to 
saying more than high school for all. Many of the 
predictions and forecasts for 25-50 years hence, al- 
though based on an assumption that the judgment day 
won't occur, seem to be telling us that increasingly 
we are going to have to get used to living without 
work, but living well. A recent issue of a popular ma- 
gazine is illustrative of the general thought. An ar- 
ticle on the year 2000 stated that it would be expected 
that in the 75 year life span of a man, he would grow 
up to go to school for the first 25 years, work for the 
second 25 years, and retire to leisure and continuing 
education for the remaining 25 years. 

How true this is, I don't know. What I am saying 
is that the temper of this article and of many similar 
predictions seems to say that society will expect as a 
normal pattern of life, long periods of education for 
entrance into the productive world, and a long period 
of education to ease the person out of the productive 
world. 

Community colleges, in keeping with this pressure, 
have included in their programs not only something re- 
ferred to as general education for the new freshman — 
that is, simply two more years of school with no vo- 
cational intent — but also a rather elaborate program 
of adult education and services which are cultural, in- 
tellectual, and avocational. 

You know then that many different people are look- 
ing at this institution for difTerent reasons and with 
differing expectations. You also now know why you 
are in the parade. 

You can now turn up the music, bask in the colors, 
and revel in the promises. At least the mask is re- 
moved. You're there and I'm there, due to the cold 
fact that in our collective judgments there isn't any 
better place to be. 

Fad, panacea, or phenomenon — whatever it is, the 
Community College offers us a way to go and, if we are 
completely honest about it, we are delighted at the 
prospect of a direction in which to head, even if we 
don't precisely know what's at the end of the road. 



28 



Evaluation of Title 1 Programs 

by CHARLES R. KELLEY, Ed.l). 



To improve the educational process it is neces- 
sary not only to innovate but also to study the eflfective- 
ness of the innovations. Unfortunately, the practical 
demands of running a school system may not allow for 
such a "luxury". Overburdened teachers and adminis- 
trators are often hard pressed to report the chronolog- 
ical sequence of Title I activities, let alone construct 
or implement a complex research design. The ap- 
parently simple but very complex operation of design- 
ing research instruments and recording the results of 
data collection, constitute a major expenditure of time 
and energy. 

Few school systems are geared to spare the neces- 
sary personnel for duties which involve the com- 
prehensive assessment of educational priorities, the 
testing of hypotheses, defining the results of surveys, 
writing extensive reports regarding evaluative findings, 
or relating such findings to the needs of children. Ar- 
rangements for the collection and analysis of data in a 
manner which aims to give relevance to the guide- 
lines established under Title I legislation, requires ex- 
tensive pre-planning. 

The success of any evaluation hinges on the ability 
of the investigator to draw together many diverse bits 
of information for a unified interpretation. No simple 
rules have been established for the selection of instances 
to be studied. Experience indicates that certain types 
of research are more appropriate than others. These 
and many other considerations must be scrutinized to 
produce meaningful results. 

The observations of an impartial stranger may point 
up characteristics associated with the program that 
might otherwise be overlooked by a researcher condi- 
tioned to the school system. An outside observer is 
likely to be aware of customs, practices, and procedures 
that are more or less taken for granted by the members 
of the regular school staff. Thereby it is possible to 
reveal major influences operating within the program 
which may be highly rewarding from an evaluation 
standpoint. 

Objectives must be specified with sufficient precision 
to ensure that the data collected is reliable and valid. 
Since no suitable instruments may exist to measure a 
given element in the program, instruments and tech- 
niques must be devised to overcome this obstacle. 



Observation instruments, interviews, questionnaires, 
projective techniques, and the examination of school 
records are sample illustrations of items to be studied 
to develop a successful research program. 

The implementation of data collection procedures is 
one of the major points at which safeguards against un- 
reliability must be studiously applied. This process re- 
quires elaborate procedures and controls. Much work 
goes into the problem of designing samples which will 
yield accurate information and promote economy of 
effort on the part of the population to be studied. It 
would not be profitable to construct a research design 
which encumbers the on-going instructional program or 
fails to produce results which correspond to the topic 
being investigated. 

The process of analysis constitutes the most time- 
consuming problem facing the researcher, coding 
tabulating, and performing statistical computations 
requires much attention to detail, complex judgments 
and extensive reliability testing. The accuracy of such 
an effort must be checked and re-checked, classified, 
averaged, or correlated, depending on the nature of the 
research design. 

The logistics involved in testing hypotheses, determ- 
ining casual relationships or making inferences based 
on broad considerations could be a most strenuous un- 
dertaking for the average school system without supple- 
mentary assistance. If the program being investigated 
is studied while it is in a transition state, such an effort 
would be impossible unless regular employees were 
contracted to work unusual hours. 

Pragmatic considerations dictate that the measure- 
ment criterion upon which a research design may be 
based ideally requires a careful sorting of irrelevant, 
inaccurate, or unreliable information. The develop- 
ment of an adequate criterion for checking results sel- 
dom receives adequate attention with all the inter- 
ferences which a school system is heir to. Rigorous 
attention must not only be given to the adequacy of 
measures, but the relationships to variables must be 
carefully assessed. Not even the best team of observers 
can be expected to provide a complete record of events, 
even when the effort is free of outside commitments. 

A meaningful analysis of the eflfectiveness of a given 
program is, indeed, difficult to develop: the more 



29 



divided the energies of the observer, the narrower the 
scope of the study. 

Through these introductory considerations we have 
pointed to the Umitations inherent in the results of a 
school system studying its own implementation of Title 
I programs, and have implied the urgent need to em- 
ploy supplementary assistance to develop systematic 
knowledge of the related educational events. A variety 
of steps have been suggested whereby a school system 
could improve its ability to develop a more creative 
educational program. 

One of the most frequent contributions of empiri- 
cal research is the clarification of the concepts used to 
help formulate instructional procedures. This occurs 
because reliable research cannot proceed to fruition on 
the basis of untested assumptions. Some indicator 
must be found to justify the execution of various in- 
structional techniques implemented in the interests of 
the students. 

Empirical research also enables the school to refocus 
theory and shift interest to new methods which may 
lead to rapid professional growth on the part of the 
teachers and better life chances for the pupils. 

The repercussions in our country today call for a 
more definitive approach to the development of edu- 
cational programs for the socio-economically disad- 
vantaged people in our society. An essential function 
of the school is to interpret the needs of children suf- 
fering from the degradation of poverty and attempt to 
remedy deficiencies whenever possible. The quality of 
this educational pursuit cannot be left to chance. The 
educator's aim should be to program his instruction 
based on actual rather than surmised needs. Errors 
and omissions can be costly in the midst of these try- 
ing times. Many of the problems which engage the 
teacher can be resolved if effort is properly directed. 

Research stimulated by the infusion of Title I 
funds may raise new issues in education which far ex- 



ceed the most imaginative speculation. At whatever 
point, in this spiral of activities launched by Title I, 
the significant emergence of a breakthrough occurs, it 
would be most beneficial to have an accurate record of 
the event. To conduct a program without an accom- 
panying research component is to ignore the essential 
function of Title I as a tool for achieving the insights 
and formulations needed to perpetuate success. 

The relationship between implementation and re- 
search is one of mutual contribution. Research can 
point to areas in which implementation is likely to be 
fruitful, can summarize the findings of a number of 
specific studies, and can provide a basis for explana- 
tion, prediction, and reality testing. Research can also 
serve as a spur to meet the challenge of measuring 
extremely complex aspects of educational theory. The 
extension of probes into the domain of theory will 
inevitably raise issues hitherto unknown. 

Finally, research provides the administrator with the 
opportunity to obtain a better understanding of what 
the teachers reporting to him are up against. This 
can influence the direction of his leadership and pro- 
vide a profile of the real problems the school system 
faces. 

Job effectiveness, professional satisfaction, and per- 
sonal involvement cannot endure in ignorance. Team- 
work requires increased openness and improvement of 
problem solving skills. Action designs cannot be im- 
plemented without information. 

If our major interest lies in improving the extent 
to which we are able to produce effective results, 
our approach must be on the scientific basis of re- 
search findings derived from innovative programs. 
Without such research, critics who resist the use of 
public revenue for the improvement of instruction and 
facilities could thwart the effort before the long-term 
results become obvious. 



30 



Education in Sweden 

(Continued from Page Eighteen) 

attendance at the three-year program entitles the stu- 
dent to enter a university in Uberal arts or theology. 
Professional and technical colleges, however, under- 
standably require an entrance examination to verify 
suitable attainment in science, mathematics, or some 
other subject basic to a comprehension of their re- 
latively advanced work. The attempt, to do away with 
or minimize examinations is in the same spirit as the 
attitude that has been prevailing in education up to 
this point. The Comprehensive School does not have 
them, the continuation school does not have them, and 
in other academic institutions they are either non- 
existent or very few. The student who dropped out of 
school when he completed his ninth year may return 
at any time to the continuation school, or to an adult 
school or to some special school operated by an indus- 
try, and if he completes the necessary background 
work, he can go on to the gymnasium and to the uni- 
versity. The State is trying to take care of the late- 
bloomers, or of those who made a decision that sub- 
sequently proved unwise, or of those who are tempera- 
mentally allergic to examinations, or of those whose 
circumstances have radically changed. There are to 
be no dead-ends in Swedish education. 

Like New Jersey, Sweden has five universities for 
the higher education of approximately the same size of 
population. The University of Uppsala, founded in 1477 
in central Sweden, and the University of Lund, found- 
ed in 1668 in southern Sweden, are the two oldest 
and perhaps only for that reason are considered a little 
more distinguished. The universities of Stockholm and 
Gothenberg, both founded in the late nineteenth cen- 
tury, and the University of Umea, in north Sweden, 
founded as recently as 1963, also share the 40,000 
students presently attending Swedish universities. Stu- 
dents attend this or that institution because of the 
presence of a certain faculty or a famous professor. 
The program of instruction is very much the same at 
this level all over Sweden (indeed, all over Scandina- 
via) and since course credit is on a point basis, trans- 
fers can be made with relative ease. Curiously enough, 
httle advantage is taken of this possibility. Once the 
institution has been chosen, the Swedish student tends 
to remain with it. Almost half the total enrolment at 
university level is in the humanities, which are avail- 
able at all the institutions. 



Approximately a million pupils are presently attend- 
ing the Swedish comprehensive schools and 300,000 
are in the gymnasium or the various types of post- 
comprehensive school institutions. Together with the 
number of students in universities or colleges, the total 
figure represents an increase of over 50% in enrol- 
ment in the past decade. Since population statistics 
remain substantially the same from year to year, where 
has the influx come from? No doubt the absence of 
examinations that may cause rejects or drop-outs is 
responsible for a portion, but the real reason is to be 
discerned in the State planning that reaches more and 
more strata of society that have hitherto been dis- 
advantaged geographically or economically. The west 
and north of Sweden (which is the fourth largest 
country in Europe) are thinly populated and this has 
made the establishment of educational facilities in 
those regions an expensive proposition. Most communi- 
ties there cannot afford anything beyond rudimentary 
schools, if that. The State has now been supplying 
the funds, skills, and personnel for secondary and even 
for the highest educational institutions in such areas. 
The University of Umea, founded only four years ago 
(320 miles northeast of Stockholm) is an outstanding 
example of the establishment of a facility that is com- 
pletely uneconomic according to local resources, but 
which is needed for cultural reasons. All this type of 
school growth is at the expense of the nation as a 
whole, just as the completely free education from the 
first day to the last, plus free textbooks and a hot 
meal every day at the comprehensive school stage is 
borne by the State. Pupils whose economic circum- 
stances arc so bad that they cannot take advantage 
of even the free offerings, are given grants of appro- 
priate sizes to bring them into the orbit of the new 
education. 

From a brief general survey certain features might 
be clearly discerned about Swedish education. Certain- 
ly it shows state planning at its best in national condi- 
tions that are ideally simple. Nothing is overlooked, 
nothing is affected by non-state interests, nothing is 
arbitrarily dictated except on the basis of proved aca- 
demic experience. On top of this is a willingness to 
experiment and to accept the logical conclusions that 
must be drawn from the results. What more can be 
asked of an educational svstem? 




% 



4 '• ' 






k''''. 



■^4 



-r — 






-^*^ 



:? 



MONTCLAIR STATE COLLEGE / SPRING 1968 




*->! 



□r. Marltin Luther King Jr. 



FORUM 

MONTCLAIR STATE COLLEGE / SPRING 1968 



MONTCLAIR STATE COLLEGE 

ALUMNI ASSOCIATION 

Upper Montclair, New Jersey 



MR. MARVIN SHLOFMITZ Editor-in-Chief 



MR. GEORGE HARRISTON Editor 



MRS. HELEN RENDALL Associate Editor 



MR. MORRIS McGEE Associate Editor 



TABLE OF CONTENTS 

The Liberal Arts at Montclair, by James P. Pettegrove .3 

Have the State Colleges Neglected Their Responsibility 
to the Big Cities?, by Benjamin Epstein 6 

Tuxedo Park Think Session Yields Long Range Guidelines, 

by Karl R. Moll 10 

A Climate for Creativity, by George Harriston 12 

The Crisis in College Faculty Salaries, 
by Erwin H. Gawley Jr 14 

Development Fund: Problems and Aspirations, 
by Frank McGuire 17 

The Montclair Student — Today, by Ernest Jaeger 19 

The Role of the Inner-City School, 
by Irving Schwartzbach 22 

Organizing Guidance Services in the Elementary School, 
by Robert Polglaze 25 

Innovation in Education: The Nova Schools, 
by Dr. Frank Merlo 29 

Industrial Arts in a Changing Society, by Arthur W. Earl 32 

The Urban Imperative, by Thomas H. Richardson 34 



A LEGACY 

Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. was one of the 
dynamic Negro civil rights leaders who managed to 
stir the conscience of serious educators and force 
them to face up to the realities of deficient educa- 
tional opportunities found all too often in urban 
and rural schools. He forced educators who were 
less than honest in their defensive attitudes to 
acknowledge the truth-over-crowded classes, obso- 
lete buildings, inadequate books and supplies, a 
dirth of audio-visual materials, rebellious and hos- 
tile students, insufficient student service personnel, 
and the colossal failure of social promotion. 

The conspiracy of silence has ended. The in- 
adequacies of ghetto education are being exposed. 
The era of smug complacency and "shove the dirt 
under the carpet" is over. Aware, sensitive and 
thinking citizens are acknowledging the brutal 
damage perpetrated against deprived children. Edu- 
cators whose silence and protests were muffled by 
considerations of professional expediency and mis- 
taken ideas of loyalty must at long last admit their 
complicity in this national crime! 

The beleaguered, dedicated and demoralized 
classroom teacher who teaches in the ghetto schools 
of America will always honor and pay tribute to 
Reverend Martin Luther King Jr. America owes a 
debt to the thousands of kids who have been short 
changed by the circumstances of life and are the 
victims of a calloused environment of bitterness 
and hatred. 



A Question of Morality 

One has the right to question the validity and 
the morality of the state's policy of spending less 
money on a student attending a state college than 
a student attending Rutgers University. Nor can 
one fathom the logic of paying qualified faculty in 
the state colleges less than is paid comparable fac- 
ulty members of Rutgers University. To add insult 
to injury, faculty personnel of the state colleges 
must carry a heavier teaching load than their col- 
leagues at Rutgers University. The injustice speaks 
for itself! 

Is the State Board of Higher Education con- 
tending that a professor at Rutgers University is 
more effective as an educator than one at a state 
college? Is a different value placed upon the de- 
grees earned by the faculty of Rutgers University? 
Is a degree from a state college less meaningful 
than a degree earned at Rutgers University? 



The Liberal Arts at Montclair 



MR. JAMES P. PETTEGROVE 
PROFESSOR OF ENGLISH 



As of July 1, 1967 Montclair State College came 
under the control of the newly created Department 
of Higher Education, and an era in the preparation 
of secondary school teachers came to a close. The 
College is now moving from a single-purpose to a 
multi-purpose program. It is, therefore, vital at this 
time to assess the history of Montclair's four-year 
curriculum, lest future generations mistakenly as- 
sume that up to last July the College slumbered in 
the night of an antediluvian philosophy of education, 
from which it was awakened by the Higher Educa- 
tion Act of 1966. The intent of this paper is not, 
however, to denigrate current plans for the College; 
it is to establish for posterity the academic level 
upon which future changes will have to be made. 

Has Montclair had a liberal arts program during 
Its existence as a teacher training college? The term 
"liberal arts" does not appear in the catalogues. 
Instead, one finds "academic training" and "pro- 
fessional background." But if one examines course 
descriptions and faculty qualifications, one sees that, 
so far as academic disciplines and advanced degrees 
are concerned, there is no significant difference 
between Montclair State College and traditional 
liberal arts institutions. Professor Paul Clifford, 
Chairman of the Mathematics Department, recently 
expressed the matter this way: "Montclair State 
College has always had a core program of liberal 
arts for the academic preparation of teachers." 
Elsewhere he states: "It has been the tradition at 
Montclair to provide courses in the general educa- 
tion component of the teacher education program 
which truly follow the spirit and content of a 
liberal education." 

Since everybody has heard of the battle between 
the "Establishment" and the "Academic Commu- 
nity," the anomaly of a teachers college offering 
liberal arts studies needs explanation. Our campus 
was never a place of bloodshed in this battle, though 
the echoes have reached us. If the "Establishment" 
has spoken out audaciously at teachers' conventions, 
the "Academic Community" has infiltrated the 
Faculty Lounge. The upshot has been constructive 
rather than divisive at Montclair. 

The good reputation and solid achievements of 



Montclair State College owe more to Harry A. 
Sprague. first President of this institution, than to 
any other individual. Dr. Sprague came to Montclair 
after many years of exposure to, and participation 
in, education at universities and colleges, and in city 
school systems. In a very real sense his approach to 
the preparation of teachers was based on his per- 
sonal observations of teachers at all levels and on 
his personal experiences as a demonstrator of meth- 
ods and procedures in the classroom. Dr. Sprague 
had seen widely reputed professors with the most 
advanced degrees who were ridiculously incompe- 
tent in the presence of students. He had also met 
a group, who called themselves "born teachers," 
who were contemptuous of both knowledge and 
methods of communicating it. He had known, too, 
the "educators" who concealed their woefully in- 
adequate scholarship behind the latest teaching 
techniques. 

Hence in 1927, when Dr. Sprague was empow- 
ered to initiate a four-year curriculum at Montclair 
for the preparation of high school teachers, he was 
convinced, as he is today, that there are two sciences 
to be mastered by the teacher candidate: the first is 
the subject matter he plans to teach; the second is 
the knowledge and skills which will enable him to 
communicate his chosen discipline to students. In 
this state of mind Dr. Sprague gathered around him 
professional educators and scholars, and some men 
who were both. Among those who shaped Mont- 
clair's first four-year program were: Dr. Charles 
Finley, Dean and Professor of Biology; Dr. John G. 
Flowers, Director of Practice Teaching; Professor 
Earl R. Glenn, Head of the Science Department; 
Professor Roy W. Hatch, Head of the Social Studies 
Department; Professor Margaret B. Holz, Head of 
the Foreign Language Department; Professor Edward 
Harlan Webster, Head of the English Department; 
and Dr. Carolyn B. Zachry, founder and Head of the 
Mental Hygiene Clinic (1930-1935). 

For instruction in the academic disciplines Dr. 
Sprague recruited from reputable universities men 
with appropriate qualifications. Faculty were se- 
lected, says the Catalogue 1930-1931, on the basis 
of "thorough academic training, knowledge of sec- 



ondary education, and marked teaching ability as 
demonstrated in high school and college fields." To 
drop a few names, there were: Walter H. Freeman, 
Ph.D. in Classical Philology, Harvard; Elwyn C. Gage, 
Ph.D. in History, Harvard; Charles E. Hadley, Ph.D. 
in Biology, Harvard; and W. Paul Hamilton, a 
Rhodes Scholar from Oxford University with an 
undergraduate degree from Princeton. Later came • 
two more scholars, among others, who left their 
mark on the College: David R. Davis, Ph.D. in 
Mathematics, Chicago University; and Otis Inge- 
britsen, Ph.D. in Psychology, Chicago University. A 
significant fact emerged from this mingling of 
educators and scholars: in the long run, a goodly 
numbers of the educators became our ablest schol- 
ars, while about the same percentage of scholars 
became pre-eminent teachers. 

In 1937, ten years after major programs in 
English, foreign languages, mathematics, science, 
and social studies had been introduced, the New 
Jersey State Teachers College at Montclair (as we 
were then called) was accredited by the Middle 
States Association of Colleges and Secondary 
Schools. Montclair was among the first teacher 
training institutions in the country to be so ac- 
credited. Three years later the College received 
accreditation also from the American Association of 
Universities. This approval amounted to official rec- 
ognition that Montclair students were being ade- 
quately prepared for university graduate schools. 
As testimony that the accrediting agencies had 
exercised sound judgment, Montclair can now 
point to the many graduates who have successfully 
completed doctoral programs in our best universities 
all over the country. 

In reality, Montclair has offered a liberal arts 
curriculum in the academic disciplines under the 
guise of professional background for teachers. Critics 
of teacher education colleges have often main- 
tained that future teachers need just as sound an 
education in the liberal arts as candidates for other 
professions. In a recent interview with Dr. Sprague 
(which, incidentally, was one of the great satisfac- 
tions derived from writing this paper), he repeatedly 
stressed the analogy between the profession of 
teaching and that of medicine. In medicine, he said, 
the student must learn a definite body of subject 
matter, but he must also learn how to apply it in the 
treatment of patients. One phase of his professional 
preparation is just as vital as the other. To grasp 
the relation of Dr. Sprague's views to current think- 
ing, one need only read the admirable article by 
Christopher Jencks and David Riesman entitled 



"Where Graduate Schools Fail" in the February 
number of Atlantic. Some statements in the article 
sound as if the writers had "bugged" a Montclair 
faculty meeting back in the Thirties: "A teacher 
needs to know as much as his research colleagues 
know, and more. He needs the scholarly compe- 
tence Ph.D. programs claim to develop, but he also 
needs expertise in working with late adolescents, 
both in the classroom and outside of it." (p. 55) 

In the perspective of today's thinking Mont- 
clair's emphasis on the twofold preparation of can- 
didates for teaching careers seems as sound as ever. 
If the College has failed to realize its goals as fully 
as its severest critics might wish, two reasons sug- 
gest themselves in justification. First, Montclair has 
suffered from a colossal lack of funds. New Jersey's 
traditional indifference to the needs of higher edu- 
cation has caused untold hardship and frustration 
among its abundantly talented and ambitious youth. 
Secondly, the College, especially in the last two 
decades, has perhaps relied too much on a prolifer- 
ation of courses in the theory of education as the 
best preparation for the teaching profession. The 
recent curtailment of the requirements in education 
courses is, from this viewpoint, a step in the right 
direction. 

Poverty in an institution of higher education 
eats at the vitals. At Montclair it has been felt 
most tragically at the recruiting interview and at 
promotion time. Certain State regulations and poli- 
cies have further handicapped the administration in 
hiring and retaining the ablest people. At a recent 
gathering of the State College faculties Chancellor 
Ralph A. Dungan stated that sixty-five percent of 
the teaching personnel hired by these colleges last 
year were drawn from the secondary and elemen- 
tary schools. To be sure, some of Montclair's most 
dynamic faculty and administration have always 
been former high school people. Our experience has 
clearly shown that superior high school teachers are 
better than run-of-the-mill college instructors. How- 
ever, the average high school teacher is not pre- 
pared to teach at college level — unless the college's 
standards have been seriously impaired by indis- 
criminate recruiting of faculty. One readily asks 
why the State Colleges, including Montclair, have so 
frequently turned to the high schools for personnel. 
Several reasons are obvious. First, our teaching 
load, by nationally accepted standards for higher 
education, is excessive. But for a high school teacher 
it is light. Our salaries are below those of compa- 
rable institutions, yet they are on a par with most, 
though not all, high school salary scales. Our rule 



requiring two years of professional experience for an 
instructor entering the profession has for some time 
been unrealistic, especially when we had to hire at 
the bottom of the rank. A successful college instruc- 
tor with two years' experience expects a higher 
salary rating than we have been allowed to grant 
him. As a further deterrent to talented staff, State 
budgetary procedures have been so timed that the 
administration often has not known how many per- 
sons it could hire until so late in the recruiting 
season that desirable instructors already had con- 
tracts elsewhere. Chancellor Dungan has raised the 
issue of a separate budgetary cycle for the colleges 
which would eliminate this handicap. 

Promotions are just as vital to the development 
and maintenance of a strong faculty as recruiting 
is. Here again, lack of money, and lack of financial 
autonomy, have cost Montclair heavily in able fac- 
ulty who, owing to our unrealistic procedures, could 
not be promoted. The rigid stipulations of fixed 
numbers of years of professional experience for dif- 
ferent ranks have become obsolete on the current 
market. Promising young scholars today move 
rapidly up the scale of salary and rank. 

Another important aspect of this problem ap- 
pears in the disciplines of art, music, theater, and 
literature. The doctorate is a measure of academic 
achievement, not of artistic talent. Degree require- 
ments and semester hour credits cannot be applied 
to painters, musicians, actors, and poets. Yet that 
is what we have to do when we attempt to make 
them members of our. faculty. To illustrate: our 
Fine Arts Department could not offer its lowest rank 
and bottom salary to Leonardo da Vinci, were he 
alive today. (A friendly critic has told me we have 
the category of "Visiting Specialist." But the visit 
is limited to two years; and, although the salary is 
"open," it is not included in the budget.) Yet the 
presence of living artists, musicians, playwrights, 
and poets in a college community can add luster to 
the institution and bring inspiration to students, 
faculty, and the public outside. A practical arrange- 
ment for the "artist in residence" ought to be worked 
out. Our own students have blazed a trail in this 
direction by engaging — and paying from their own 
funds — distinguished artists and scholars to spend 
an occasional evening among us. 

Morale among the Montclair faculty has been 
generally high, despite our many frustrations. The 
reason for this has been the remarkable degree of 
academic freedom which has prevailed on this cam- 
pus. Dr. Sprague, and his successor. Dr. Partridge, 
were both ardent believers in academic freedom; 



and the State Department of Education must be 
gratefully remembered for its consistent stand on 
this matter. Without this freedom there is no 
"higher" education. While many of the details of 
our programs had to be cleared with the Commis- 
sioner's Office, Montclair classrooms have always 
remained the inviolate domain of the instructor and 
his students. Similarly, the freedom to organize his 
own courses and to choose his own texts has lent 
dignity and identity to Montclair faculty members; 
it has also stimulated scholarship and fresh ap- 
proaches in teaching. Prescribed texts and regi- 
mented course plans can be as stultifying as life in 
a chain gang. When teaching becomes a treadmill, 
the mind dies. And a dead mind, like a dead body, 
deserves prompt and decent burial. 

No institution is ever entirely free from the 
weaknesses it most abhors. In stressing teaching, it 
may be that both faculty and administration have 
at times underestimated the research and prepa- 
ration that lift a classroom presentation to college 
level. Factors that have contributed to this over- 
sight have doubtless been our heavy teaching load, 
involvement in degree-getting, and the sin of sloth. 
However, another factor is suggested in a recent 
self-evaluative report based on faculty and student 
opinion. "It is not heresy or disloyalty," says the 
Report of the Committee on Innovations (p. 1), "to 
point out that certain secondary-school spirit exists 
on our campus. There are too many generalists and 
too few specialists. There is an anti-intellectualism 
that minimizes the value of scholarship and re- 
search." 

College faculties are often judged by their publi- 
cations. In view of the fact that no load credit has 
normally been given for collecting the materials for 
publications, the accomplishments of our faculty 
are quite striking. The textbook tradition began with 
John C. Stone, our first professor of mathematics, 
back in the Normal School days. According to 
Virgil S. Mallory, who continued the tradition. Pro- 
fessor Stone sold about 20,000,000 copies of his 
many texts. Dr. Mallory sold more than 8,000,000 
copies of his books. Down to the present, members 
of the Mathematics Department have led all other 
disciplines in textbook writing and sales. Distin- 
guished publications have come from several other 
departments over the years. 

However, the publication of research at the fore- 
front of knowledge has been rare on this campus. 
Our frame of reference has been practical, and it 
has not encouraged pure scholarship. Perhaps it has 
been the tragic flaw of practical people down 

Continued on Page 28 




William Hope '64 has learned that films are more meaningful 
to students who find reading difficult. 



Ellen Murphy '65 has found that a smile, patience and a 
soft spoken word are very effective 'techniques. 



Have the State Colleges Neglected 



By DR. BENJAMIN EPSTEIN 

ASSISTANT SUPERINTENDENT OF SCHOOLS, 

NEWARK, NEW JERSEY 

Within a few days after the civil disturbances 
concluded in Newark in the summer of 1967, the 
Department of Personnel of the Newark Board of 
Education received word from one of the nearby 
New Jersey State Colleges that several of their 
seniors who had originally requested practice teach- 
ing assignments in Newark during the school year 
of 1967-68 had just withdrawn their requests and 
would not be coming to Newark at all. 

Perhaps these seniors reasoned that, since dis- 
turbances had rocked the city, it followed that the 
schools would become microcosmic replicas of the 
city of which they were a part. Or perhaps the par- 
ents of these soon-to-be teachers were frightened 
and forbad their children from risking the "physi- 
cal perils" of being inside a Newark school. Or per- 
haps these fledgling teachers were prepared with 
too little knowledge and understanding of the reali- 
ties and challenges which teaching ghetto and slum 
children in the central poverty areas of a present- 
day American big city entails because their college 
had done too little to introduce them to the problem. 

It was an unhappy fact that so few of these 
students — and perhaps this comment applies also to 
most of their college mentors — had bothered to find 
out that during the troubled days of the summer, 



the schools of Newark were centers of stability 
rather than disorder. Schools had remained open 
and children had attended them in the centers of 
conflict disrupted areas. Schools had been closed 
one day; but this came about as a result of an order 
by the Governor which had been reluctantly com- 
plied with by the administration of the schools of 
Newark, who would have preferred to keep schools 
open. 

Of course, we had heard again and again, that 
instructors in some of the State Colleges, including 
Montclair, sometimes in terms subtle and just as 
often with pointed and obvious remarks, had played 
a role in dissuading teacher-trainees from coming 
to work in the big bad cities, because the social 
problems made teaching more difficult, the children 
were less willing to accept traditional school-teacher 
authority and controls, the buildings were older, and 
every other factor was equally uninviting. Yet such 
perverted behavior, could not have, in any major 
fashion, materially produced any serious effects on 
the thinking of teacher candidates if they had pre- 
viously gone through an intensive and meaningful 
training program, directed toward the goal of mak- 
ing substantial and in-depth contributions to present 
day urban education. 

Yet, sorry to say, such intensive programs which 
should have mobilized and combined the efforts of 
every sector of academic expertise and the profes- 
sional training of teachers in trying to bring solu- 




Theodora Yacik '65 teaches English to Spanish speaking 
students with a dramatic flair. 



Philip Syvester "63 always emphasizes the basic fundamentals 
and reviews and reviews. 



Their Responsibility to tlie Cities? 



tions to the educational problems of the ghettoes 
and poverty-scarred cities did not exist on the cam- 
puses of the teacher-training institutions of New 
Jersey. The fact is that they still do not exist in any 
measure remotely appropriate to the demands of 
the situation. For that matter, they do not exist to 
any significant extent in any of the other colleges 
of New Jersey. It is of small comfort to the writer 
that as early as ten years ago he had publicly called 
upon the then-Commissioner of Education and the 
Presidents of the State Colleges to institute such 
programs; his appeals resulted in an exercise in 
futility! 

All of this is not meant to deny, demean, or 
minimize a number of projects that have been 
undertaken by the colleges and universities of New 
Jersey. The Princeton Cooperative Schools Project; 
Upward Bound programs at Rutgers, Seton Hall, St. 
Elizabeth; Operation High School Head Start at 
Seton Hall; TRY and SPURT activities at Montclair; 
volunteer tutors in city schools from NCE, Rutgers, 
Newark. State, Montclair State Colleges; the experi- 
mental joint project at Newark's Camden Street 
School being conducted in a partnership between 
the Newark Board of Education and Rutgers; an 
ongoing teacher-internship program of cooperation 
between Newark State and the Newark Board of 
Education at Bergen Street School; The Saturday 
Morning at Rutgers programs for motivating sec- 
ondary school students in Newark — these and 



several others are enheartening examples of genuine 
interest and involvement. They are "steps in the 
right direction." But they are very far from enough. 
Their dimensions are too microscopic for the dimen- 
sions of the problem they seek to alleviate. 

What is called for is something far more exten- 
sive both in quality and quantity. The priority agenda 
of every teacher-training institution and of every 
center of higher learning concerned with the prob- 
lems of educating youth need restructuring. What 
I am proposing here is a resolution by every State 
College and every other institution that trains 
teachers to set up a task Force for Urban Education 
on its campus. Each such task force must become a 
major influence felt in every phase of the academic 
and creative life of the institution in which it oper- 
ates. It must affect what is taught, what is studied, 
what is researched. 

Let me list what I feel some of the goals of such 
task forces might be: 

1. Every individual who comes to the campus 
seeking to participate as a professional worker in 
education, as teacher, guidance counsellor, admin- 
istrator, psychologist, social-case worker, or other- 
wise, must be required to move through a process 
of training which will saturate (or if you prefer, 
brain-wash) him with knowledge, understanding, 
appreciation, and empathy with the educational 
problems of the central city, with its culture, its 
tensions, its ghetto quality, its racial and ethnic 



characteristics. Such training cannot be exclusively 
centered in academic on-campus classroom activities 
but must involve direct experiential contact with the 
schools, institutions, streets, and homes of the 
ghetto and poverty communities which make up the 
centers of old big cities such as Newark. Every 
education-oriented trainee in a college today must 
be required to go through courses which emphasize 
sensitivity to human relations; the anthropology and 
patterns of poverty-cultures; the history of Ameri- 
can minority peoples — especially Negro history; 
variations in value systems among specific sub- 
cultures which distinguish them from the standard 
white, Anglo-Saxon middle class system which our 
schools have traditionally sought to impose on all 
their pupils; the political, economic, housing, health, 
transportation, recreational, and fiscal realities of 
cities; concepts of self-help patterns versus paterna- 
listic patronage in the social dynamics of poverty 
communities; techniques in the use of multi-media 
for enhancing the learning of verbally-starved chil- 
dren; the uselessness of standardized culture- 
bound measuring tools in judging individual capacity 
and progress in children from ghetto and poverty 
backgrounds; the sociology of the extended and 
disorganized family; the effects of subsistence with 
the constant support of public welfare; and a host 
of other related items which could very well also 
include as handy a tool as proficiency in conver- 
sational Spanish. Certainly every trainee must go 
through some personal analysis of his own pre- 
judgments about people who are poor, who are 
black, who live in slums, Who come from other lands, 
who speak differently, who are suspicious of es- 
tablished institutions because within that establish- 
ment they fare so poorly. 

As a peripheral phase of such orientation it 
might be interesting to look at certain phases of 
our existing course offering. How many of our 
nutritional or biology courses include caloric counts 
and vitamin-mineral analyses of papaya, yucca root, 
collard greens, squid, linguica, and other such 
foods? Yet these are sold in the groceries and mar- 
kets of our big cities as common ingredients in the 
diets of many central city people. Which of our 
college American and world literature courses make 
special efforts to include the writing of black and 
Puerto Rican American authors? Are there ever 
evaluations in courses of linguistics for future lan- 
guage teachers on the folk idiosyncracies of the 
conjugation of the verb, "to be," in the language 
patterns of Negroes who have in the last decade 
emigrated from the South and who today make up 



the single largest ethnic group in a city such as 
Newark? 

2. Colleges and universities have traditionally 
been the centers of research and experiment with 
innovative procedures for dealing with new prob- 
lems in education. The teaching staff of every 
teacher-training institution must direct its current 
research almost exclusively to the problems of edu- 
cating urban poverty and ghetto children. This, 
they must do in the areas of school organization, 
curriculum, and teaching methodology. One rather 
immediate peripheral effect- of such a concentration 
of effort would be a relatively rapid sensitization to 
the whole spectrum of urban problems which is so 
critically necessary for those who have the respon- 
sibility of teaching teachers; and if there were no 
other outcome, it would, per se, still be a welcome 
one. Its value, however, could go far beyond. There 
is great urgency in slum education for bold, new 
curricular approaches which will interest, excite, 
stimulate, and relate meaningfully to the children 
of the city's poor and rejected families. There is 
almost as great a need for new blueprints for school 
organization which will on a dollar-to-dollar basis 
yield a more efficient output flow in communities 
suffering from serious fiscal inadequacies. It requires 
little imagination to prepare such schemes in an 
economy of sufficient money, plant, staff, and 
materials. But how does one do the job when the 
funds grow fewer, the pupil population greater, and 
their needs colossal? Finally, the teachers and ad- 
ministrators seek new techniques which will clearly 
be "best practices" for inside or outside the class- 
room pedagogy. 

This function of performing the research and 
converting it into practical operational technology 
and materials has been a responsibility of the col- 
lege and university, its professors and graduate 
students working as a source of innovation for the 
practitioner within the school. Such colleges, such 
as Montclair, now owe exclusive service to big-city 
schools. 

What justification can there be for such an 
all-out, exclusive effort which neglects other types 
of learners and schools? Is it fair to the middle-class, 
suburban student to bypass his needs for the time 
being? The answer is decidedly in the affirmative. 
If anything, this type of learner has in recent post- 
Sputnik years had abundant masses of attention 
lavished upon him at considerable public expense. 
It is this youngster who has been the beneficiary of 
PSSC physics; SMSG mathematics; BSCS biology; 
the Trump plan; modular scheduling; Advanced 



Placement; modern linguistics; new foreign language 
offerings; humanities courses; and many other simi- 
lar efforts. Yet while all this emphasis was being 
placed on the most highly motivated learners, we 
forgot, in large measure, that vast changes were 
taking place in our cities as the middle class fled 
away, and its place was taken by the chronically 
poor, the least educated, the most underemployed, 
the victims of generations of racial discrimination. 
This very concentration of the problems resulted in 
a new set of pressures which, if we are to pre- 
serve the stability of our society, demand massive 
and special compensatory efforts directed at the 
children of the ghetto. 

3. If at all possible the teaching schedules of all 
college staff members, in institutions like the state 
colleges, should be so arranged as to permit them 
a day or two per week to come to work as per-diem 
substitutes in city public schools (for which, of 
course, they will be paid). Such an arrangement 
could produce two very tangible results. The first 
is a simple pragmatic one. City schools are finding 
it most difficult to find substitutes to handle classes 
on days when teachers are out for illness or personal 
reasons. In the context of this article, however, the 
more important effect would be the insight and ex- 
perience that college staff members would derive 
in sharing and living through the actualities, the 
problems, the struggles, the strivings, and the 
realities of their colleagues in public schools of the 
central city. It would make vast differences in their 
outlook on what has to be done. It would do much 
to change their occasional unconscious airs of super- 
iority and even contumaciousness into ones of deep 
respect and empathy for the teachers and admin- 
istrators of schools in cities like Newark. 

4. Old cities are having ever greater difficulties 
in recruiting sufficient and capable teachers. Let 
alone the fact that the teaching situation is more 
difficult, the shift of wealth from city to suburb has 
permitted the suburbs not only to outbid the cities 
for teacher services on the basis of more pleasant 
working conditions, but now also on the basis of 
higher salaries. 

This type of development makes the situation 
in the city grow ever more severe. If, however, the 
state colleges were to make it a matter of deter- 
mined policy to accept a far greater proportion of 
their incoming students from big city high schools 
than they do at present, it might alleviate the prob- 
lem considerably. The chances are not nearly as 
great that graduates of suburban high schools will 
ultimately come to the city to teach as they are that 



city kids will return to the city. 

Such an alteration of admissions policy may 
necessitate some very intense soul-searching by 
college faculties and admissions officers about such 
items as the relevance of SAT scores or those of 
similar competitive tests. It may require supportive 
summer programs and special help to some of their 
city freshmen and sophomores. But this admissions 
approach must come — and in a hurry! Maybe 1968 
would be a perfect time to begin. 

These then are a few of the items to which a 
college Task Force on Urban Education could de- 
vote itself. It would be a happy turn of events if 
such task forces, or reasonable facsimiles, were set 
up in all New Jersey State Colleges — and in the 
State University as well. It would make great sense 
if such task forces could coordinate their efforts to 
avoid duplication of efforts and to provide each 
other with support and a sharing of ideas and re- 
sults. It would be wise if such a common effort were 
blended into the programs to be developed by the 
new New Jersey coalition of big city superintendents 
of schools which are working with the New Jersey 
Commissioner of Education. 

If any thoughts or views expressed in this article 
seem sharp, argumentative, critical, or snide, it 
should be understandable. Those of us working in 
urban schools today tend to become emotional 
about situations — not out of self-justification, but 
because we are deeply committed to high quality 
education for our children and we cannot do it 
without lots of help. We believe that we have a 
right to expect it from the state colleges, and we 
think that they have a responsibility to fulfill much 
more fully than they are now doing. 

At the time some of us in Newark who heard of 
the change of heart of this group of student 
teachers felt that it was an inevitable outcome, be- 
cause the nature of what was taking place would 
frighten away the meek in heart; but others of us 
were deeply disappointed. After all, we reasoned 
that these young people came from colleges origin- 
ally founded as centers for training teachers — 
teachers for all — not merely some — of the schools 
of New Jersey. True, these schools were now ex- 
panding their spheres and broadening their aca- 
demic orientations beyond the teacher-training 
phase alone. Still they were, and we felt would for 
the predictable future have to continue to be a 
major source of new teachers and teacher-training 
in our state. 

With this view in mind, it seemed that at a 
moment of crying need and travail in a city, which 

Continued on Page 1 1 



Tuxedo Park Think Session 
Yields Long Range Guidei 




By KARL R. MOLL 

ASSOCIATE PROFESSOR OF SPEECH 

CHAIRMAN: MSC FACULTY COUNCIL 

Confusion and change seem to characteristically 
go together. And certainly this was the atmosphere 
during 1966 and '67 at Montclair State College. The 
College was engulfed by a series of fascinating but 
complex adjustments. The new State Department of 
Higher Education presented a Chancellor, Board of 
Higher Education and the prospect of the College's 
own Board of Trustees — all of these suggesting re- 
lationships that had not existed before. Coupled 
with these new "directors" Montclair had a new 
President, a new decision-making faculty group, a 
new curriculum (Liberal Arts) and a vague format 
for an unprecedented expansion. If there was a 
time for coordination and cooperation in planning 
it was apparent that the opportunity was here. But 
it was also apparent that the machinery for such a 
situation did not exist. 

It was in this state of eagerness-for-action that 
President (Dr.) Richardson conceived the idea for 



an "away conference" that was unique for Montclair 
but had seen use by business and industrial groups 
for several years. The plan was to gather together 
the Administration Council, the Faculty Council and 
selected additional personnel for a three day dis- 
cussion and planning session at a location removed 
from the physical environment and mental pressures 
of the campus. As one might expect, the major 
deterrent was the need for financial support. The 
College Development Fund saw the potential of 
such a conference and arranged to provide the 
needed funds. 

The effects of this conference, held at Tuxedo 
Park, N. Y., will most certainly be felt on the cam- 
pus for many years to come. Its success must, in 
part, be credited to careful and cooperative plan- 
ning, full and active participation by the faculty and 
staff present and a spirit of the endeavor established 
by Dr. Richardson. The setting was conducive for 
deliberations on the preset topics which were im- 
portant and exciting. 

While the areas to be discussed were deter- 
mined in advance, the selection was through the 



10 



cooperative effort of the groups that were to attend. 
The topics were of two types; the first consisted of 
general open-ended problem areas while in the 
second category were specific items of current 
practice. The two subjects in the initial group were. 
Long Range Planning and Goals and The Role of 
Various Groups in Decision-Making. For each of 
these, the entire conference was divided into three 
groups, each studying concurrently the same sub- 
ject with interim and final reports at general session 
meetings. 

In the second category the following problems 
were attacked: faculty load, promotion, hiring, 
qualifications, sabbatical leaves, registration, sched- 
ule making, class size, transfers, change of majors, 
re-admits, and the selection and duties of depart- 
ment chairmen. The procedure used for the above 
established four smaller groups, allotted to each 
group a selection of the topics and encouraged 
specific solutions and recommendations. 

Many conclusions, some immediate, others vis- 
ionary, resulted from the conference and these, 
of course, are valuable. But of still greater signifi- 
cance was the fact that such a conference with its 
intended purpose could be held within a State Col- 
lege family. This attack on serious problems by 
those most vitally concerned was a giant step for- 
ward and made the future of higher education, at 
least at Montclair State College, that much brighter. 
The Tuxedo Park Conference of May 1967 was 
cooperative, morale boosting, far-sighted, problem 
solving and it is hoped, preliminary, to a continuing 
series of ventures to enhance the College and the 
State of New Jersey to better provide for the edu- 
cation of its citizens. 



Responsibility to the Cities 

Continued from Page 9 

could have used a display of confidence and a 
helping hand, instead of politely excusing them- 
selves from any contact with those suffering from 
adversity, the students of these colleges would have 
been doubly eager to rush forward to offer their 
services. A number of us wondered what had hap- 
pened to the zeal, the spirit of dedication, the urge 
to serve where the need was greatest, the empathic 
understanding of the nature of the problems-— all 
of them qualities with which, we believed, all young 
teachers should have been saturated during their 
training periods. 

There was little doubt in the minds of anyone 
about the genuine concern, sincerity, and willing- 
ness of the administrations and placement offices 
of the colleges to give whatever assistance they 
could muster to aid Newark and other large cities 
who were facing staffing problems because of the 
reticence of far too many new young teachers in 
seeking employment in those cities. Unhappily, will- 
ingness to help and sympathy are of little pragmatic 
value if the teachers who are sought have not been 
imbued with the conscience and desire to come; it 
is rare that it is possible to change points of view on 
a crash basis during moments of extreme crisis — a 
crisis, which to the young teacher, is far away and 
affects him very little. 

The views expressed in this article in no way reflect 
the official policy of either the Newark Board of 
Education, or the Superintendent. They are the per- 
sonal views of the author. 



Hov\/ About Joining the Staff? 

The editors are most anxious to publish articles written by the alumni, 
and they are particularly interested in securing original poems and short 
stories. This is indeed your FORUM, and it is sincerely hoped that you will 
avail yourself of the opportunity of seeing your material in print. 



The Alumni Executive Board is distressed that this issue had to be cut 
in order to conform to a limited budget. The contributions of the Alumni 
support this endeavor. Send your contributions to the Alumni Office. 



11 



S^ ^o/tmo/^ 




Eva Bouzard, Chairman 
Kathy Schultz '6, Cathy Randall '6 
r Art Department, James Caldwell High School 



To be committed to a student and student development cen- 
tered program rather than one that is instructor and course 
orientated. 



ir 





To provide the experience that equips the art student with the 
skills, understandings, attitudes and beliefs necessary to enter 
upon a career in art, if he so desires it, or to the using of art 
in his life situation. 



f| 



12 



^ 




reuSmi^ 



The art program is designed 
in a team teaching situation in 
which three rooms are set up 
in a specialized area, giving 
the student his choice of art 
media. Students are encour- 
aged to work in a variety of 
media for a period of time in 
each of the three rooms. It is 
a highly individualized pro- 
gram, in which the student is 
considered on his own level of 
ability and interest. 




To be equally receptive to all persons interested in pursuing 
artistic creation, regardless of ability or medium chosen. 




To build upon what the student knows, artistically, when 
he enrolls in the art program. This means looking at him 
individually. 



13 



The Crisis 



in 



Faculty 



DR. IRWIN H. GAWLEY JR. 
CHAIRMAN OF SCIENCE DEPARTMENT 



The NEA Research Division in the publication 
Economic Status of Teachers 1966-67 reports the 
annual beginning salaries of men graduates with 
Master's Degrees in such fields as Accounting, 
Sales, Business Administration, Science and Eco- 
nomics to average $9,420. A faculty member at a 
state college beginning at ihe minimum cannot earn 
$9,420 until after 7 years and gaining 30 additional 
graduate credits. 

The United States Bureau of Labor Statistics 
published in the New York Times on October 25th, 
1967 a report that indicated that the cost of living 
for the New York metropolitan area has risen 52% 
(71 % if the amount needed to own a home is in- 
cluded) over the 1959 level. Compare this with a 



43% increase in the average salaries of the faculty 
between 1959 and 1967. Salary advances in the past 
have not kept pace with the cost of living. These are 
some of the economic realities we face as we attempt 
to recruit and retain a high caliber faculty. 

There are three phases to the struggle: first, 
prior to the enactment of the higher education act, 
second, during the transition from the old to the 
new structure, and finally during the tenure of the 
Department of Higher Education. Each epoch will 
be examined in perspective. 

Prior to the passage of the Higher Education 
Act of 1966 the salary policies were developed for 
the colleges by the State Board of Education. Sched- 
ules adopted were submitted to the Salary Adjust- 
ment Committee (SAC) which is composed of the 
State Treasurer, the Budget Director, and the Presi- 
dent of the Civil Service Commission. If the changes 
were compatible with the state civil service system 
and funds were thought to be available, the new 
schedule was recommended to the governor for in- 
clusion in his Annual Budget Message. If the salary 
program was approved by the governor and included 
in his fiscal program, the next hurdle was the legis- 
lative appropriations committee and the legislature 
as a whole. Final approval by July 1st meant a salary 
adjustment the following September. 

There were two other significant regulations in 
force during this period. The statute setting up 
Rutgers as the State University included a provision 
that the university salary schedule must be approved 
by the State Board of Education. The Board itself 
adhered to a policy of single salary schedule for the 
State Colleges, the university and Newark College 
of Engineering. The equivalence in salary schedule 
was one in rank and salary levels only. The univer- 
sity salaries were based upon a 12 semester hour 
faculty load, and the state college salaries for identi- 
cal rank were based on a 1 5 semester hour load. 
The colleges must hire all personnel at the bottom 
step of the respective ranks (unless special dispen- 
sation was given by SAC sometimes after a wait of 
several months) the university could hire at any 
step on the guide without SAC approval. 

The state constitution does not provide for 
collective bargaining on the part of state employees. 
They do have the right to organize and discuss pro- 
grams with some of the decision making authorities. 
The college faculties were represented during this 
period by the College Salary Committee (CSC) a 
semi-autonomous committee of the Association of 
New Jersey State College Faculties. This committee 
worked closely with the New Jersey Education 



14 



Association (NJEA) which provided the committee 
with research facilities, public relations aid, duplicat- 
ing services, legislative contacts, and the personal 
services of some of their ablest staff members. 

During the years of its existence, the College 
Salary Committee has always had representation 
from the State Colleges. Rutgers faculties have par- 
ticipated sporadically and N.C.E. was represented on 
the committee for a longer period of time. The CSC 
would attempt to negotiate a salary program with 
the Salary Committee of the State Board of Edu- 
cation. If the adopted guide fell short of the goals 
of the group, the CSC would .attempt to get the 
executive branch of the government through the 
budget bureau and the governor's office to revise 
the program upward. Failure, at this level, to achieve 
an adequate guide required an attempt to win the 
program by legislative action. 

Acceptance of the proposed salary guide by the 
NJEA makes the salary plan a part of their annual 
legislative program. This program is presented to a 
meeting of the legislators who are members of the 
senate and assembly education committees. The 
program is discussed with individual legislators from 
each district by members of the NJEA legislative 
committee from the district. The program is rec- 
ommended to the legislators by the NJEA registered 
lobbyists in the legislature. There have been in- 
stances when positive action in the legislature has 
secured salary adjustments when both the State 
Board and the Executive Branch have been negative. 

It should be pointed out that in many cases the 
goals of the State Board and the Salary Committee 
were in harmony. In these instances the Salary Com- 
mittee and the NJEA worked with the Board to see 
that the executive and legislative branches of the 
government provided the funds needed to imple- 
ment the program. 

The description above illustrates the proce- 
dures prior to the passage of the N.J. Higher Educa- 
tion Act of 1966. The passage of this act in Decem- 
ber of that year led to further complications in the 
salary picture. The act provided for the principle of 
a greater degree of institutional autonomy or heme 
rule. The law did indeed provide a certain greater 
degree of freedom in curriculum, personnel policies, 
admissions and other minor areas. The new act still 
held tight reign in Trenton on salaries and all other 
fiscal matters. Salary and fiscal control was merely 
shifted from the Board of Education to the Board 
of Higher Education. The Budget Bureau, SAC and 
the Civil Service Commission still retained their con- 
trols over financial matters. Because of the provi- 



sions of the legislation establishing Rutgers as the 
state university it is not subject to this rigid central 
fiscal control. This provides a greater degree of 
freedom in salary matters to the university. Unsuc- 
cessful attempts were made to gain for the State 
Colleges the same degree of fiscal autonomy as 
the University. 

The Higher Education Act passed in December 
1966 had an unrealistic date for assumption of re- 
sponsibilities of the Board of Higher Education. This 
was later changed to July 1 and the new chief exec- 
utive officer, the chancellor, did not assume his 
duties until August. This provided a six month 
"lame duck" period of control of the colleges by the 
Department of Education and the State Board. 

During this transitional period, the State Board 
of Education and the CSC agreed on an acceptable 
salary program for the colleges. Since this involved 
salary range changes, it had to be approved by the 
Salary Adjustment Committee. This group refused 
to approve the new guide and also pointed out that 
the faculty representatives had no legal right to 
negotiate with the SAC Committee. This refusal was 
part of the problem caused by the transitional per- 
iod. In a meeting with the governor, he said that he 
wanted no "lame duck" action taken by the State 
Board; he wanted any new salary program to emerge 
from his new higher education structure. The SAC 
refusal was his method of blocking the State Board's 
program. 

Consideration was given to appealing the SAC 
decision through legislative channels. The close rap- 
port between the governor and the legislature raised 
serious doubts about the success of such an appeal. 

Meanwhile back on the banks of the Raritan the 
University Administration had legislation introduced 
to transfer $1.5 million of unexpended building 
funds to the salary account to provide additional 
increments for the faculty. This did not require any 
change in the salary schedule but merely changed 
the position of the faculty members on the existing 
guide. The University did not have to seek approval 
of the State Board of Education for this program. 
Newark College of Engineering Faculties were prom- 
ised similar treatment. State College faculties were 
given no additional salary adjustments. 

After nearly nine months of unproductive nego- 
tiations, followed by salary increases for the other 
two faculties from state supported institutions, and 
salary schedules for some of the county colleges that 
were vastly superior to the state college guides, the 
faculties decided to take more drastic action. The 
CSC recommended to the Association of New Jersey 



15 



State College Faculties that a vote be taken to au- 
thorize professional sanctions against the state if 
the salary goals were not realized. The Association 
voted overwhelmingly in favor of the proposal. 

The chancellor and the Board of Higher Edu- 
cation had not yet been appointed. The faculties 
decided that sanctions should not be involved until 
the chancellor and his Board had an opportunity to 
study and propose an improved salary program for 
the college faculties. Several months elapsed while 
the Association officers presented the program to 
the new higher education board and its adminis- 
trative officer. 

At one of the first meetings of the newly ap- 
pointed Board of Higher Education, this group 
agreed to operate without a committee structure 
therefor a salary committee was not appointed. The 
board also gave the Chancellor the problem of nego- 
tiating the college faculty salary problem. 

Negotiations came to a standstill. The State 
Faculty Association voted to involve the first of 
several sanctions with the power to invoke others as 
needed. This prodded the authorities into action. 
The chancellor proposed a salary scale which would 
maintain the same minimum salaries but add sev- 
eral "merit" steps to the top thus raising the maxi- 
mums for those who would qualify. The proposal also 
called for an additional increment effective February 
1st for all those not at maximum and for those at 
maximum recommended by the college president. 

The College Salary Committee accepted this 
plan only as an interim step toward a more meaning- 
ful salary program. The college faculties are still 
committed to a program which would raise both the 
minimum and nominal maximum salaries on a seven 
step guide. The first seven steps on the salary guide 
are part of the mandated salary program and funds 
for these annual increases are seldom if ever cut 
from the state budget. Funds for "merit" increased 
historically have had to be taken from savings from 
appropriated salary accounts. These savings are un- 
certain funds, and when used for this purpose re- 
sult in loss of other services to the college. 

While Trenton was inactive salary levels were 
being increased by our neighbors with whom we 
compete for faculty. A few examples follow: 

N.J. State Colleges 



Instructor 7,018-9,124 7 

Conn. State Colleges 

Professor $14,740-18,100 7 

Associate Professor . . 12,640-15,640 7 

Assistant Professor . . 10,380-12,660 7 

Instructor 9,320-11,480 7 

N.Y. City Sr. Colleges 

Professor 18,000-26,000 8 

Associate Professor . . 14,000-21,000 9 

Assistant Professor . . 11,000-17,000 10 

Instructor 10,050-13,900 14 

"Merit" increases above step 7 make possible the 
following super maximums with the extra steps 
indicated: 

Professor 7 steps to $19,803 

Associate Professor . . 7 steps to $16,297 

Assistant Professor . . 4 steps to $12,184 

Instructor 2 steps to $ 9,826 

As the deadline for submission of this article 
approaches two final items can be reported. The 
Board of Higher Education has reversed itself and 
has appointed a salary committee to meet with 
state college representatives. The governor has 
asked in his 1969 Fiscal year budget for a one 
increment across the board increase for all state 
employees which will increase minimum compen- 
sation by 5% and maximum levels by slightly less 
than that figure. This single step adjustment falls 
far short of the goals of the college faculties. They 
will continue to fight for a competitive seven step 
salary guide. 

If New Jersey is to realize the ambitious and 
necessary goals set forth in the higher education 
act, it must now begin to think more boldly than it 
ever has in the area of faculty salaries. The colleges 
can no longer expect to attract superior faculty 
members at salaries that are very little better than 
those paid in the public schools. We cannot hope to 
use merit, super maximums and special recom- 
mendation policies to substitute for a superior salary 
scale. There are "halfway measures" whose effect 
will be marginal at best. Only a sound and profes- 
sionally attractive salary scale will give us the kind 
of faculties who can help us to realize the high 
hopes and expectations of the State. 



Professor $12,003-15,603 

Associate Professor . . 9,875-12,839 

Assistant Professor . . 8.124-10,560 



Steps 

7 
7 
7 



16 



Development; Fund: 

Problenns and Aspirations 




^;^ 




By FRANK G. McGUIRE 

VICE PRESIDENT, HETHERINGTON & CO. 

PUBLIC RELATIONS COUNSEL, NEWARK, N.J. 

How do people give? — grudgingly, for the most 
part, and the reluctance is understandable. Million- 
aires seeking tax shelters and foundations aside, 
philanthropy is weighed against home improvement, 
braces for the teeth and auto payments. It may be 
some slight comfort to the contemporary citizen to 
know that his ancestors probably were as harassed. 
St. Paul assured the Corinthians that "God loveth a 
cheerful giver," but I've often wondered why he 
found that bit of advice necessary; a falling collec- 
tions quota, like as not, was his inspiration. 

It "omes as no surprise, then, to learn that the 
Montclair State College Development Fund has had 
but moderate success in its fund raising enterprise. 
It isn't because Montclair alumni do not endorse the 
Fund's purpose, that of performing services beyond 
the college's capabilities. Everyone approves the 
theory, but a lesser percentage is willing or able 
to finance it. 

i think that part-time fund planners, myself 
included, find it particularly frustrating to work 
with non-existent budgets and against general 
apathy, trying to create something that is at once 
extraordinarily relevant, eminently literary and as- 



suredly convincing. Because we cannot do all of 
these things in virtuoso fashion, there is a perma- 
nent temptation to use what a friend of mine calls 
the "home, heaven and mother" formula. A few 
tugs at the old school tie will fill in all the gaps. 
Well, it just doesn't work. 

One of the reasons it doesn't work is, as the 
Canadian sociologist Marshall McLuhan has dem- 
onstrated, that people increasingly make decisions 
on the basis of a great deal of readily available 
factual information. It pours at them daily, through 
the media of public communication, and is a con- 
tinual challenge to the conclusions of yesterday's 
evidence. Much of this data is ephemeral, to be 
sure, but nonetheless real. This information bom- 
bardment is largely in the air, as it were, and if 
nothing else, television has made the immediacy 
of the actual world an undeniable fact. For example, 
I sat in the safety of my living room the other day 
and watched, via satellite transmission, a live tele- 
cast of street fighting in Viet Nam. There it was. 
right in front of me, the real article; it made a John 
Wayne version of men-at-arms on another channel 
pale competition, indeed. 

Is it real?- — -that's a litmus test of an appeal, 
any appeal. Does it speak to its constituency in 
terms that are a reasonable counter argument to 
the healthy skepticism that greets any solicitation? 

In analyzing the College Development Fund at 
Montclair State, I find, in my discussions with 
friends and classmates, two prevailing variations of 
this idea of healthy skepticism. And while I dis- 
agree with both conclusions, I respect the integrity 
of those who voice them. These disagreements are 
honestly held and it is important that we note them. 
The first reaction, obviously psychological, is a 
reluctance to accept the changes that the rapid 
growth of recent years has brought to the college. 
I've even received a letter from a fellow alumnus, 
bemoaning the passage of Montclair from the pro- 
vincial institution we knew as freshmen to an 
entirely new, and therefore different learning com- 
munity. Because this new Montclair State College 
is unfamiliar to my erstwhile classmate, he finds 
its purposes unsettling and disturbing. 

What is illustrated here is that a college and 
the people it serves exist in time. At any given 



17 



moment on the continuum of both college and 
people their familiarity or estrangement each to 
the other can be expressed only in relative terms. 
As we move from one position to another we will 
confuse some of our alumni; the faster we move, 
the more we confuse. And we are moving very fast, 
indeed. Let me explain with an obviously extreme 
example — if Montclair State College were to an- 
nounce its intention of henceforth offering train- 
ing only for exotic dancers, then the alumni, in this 
case alumnae would fast become the special inter- 
est group whose influence, in a very short time, 
would dominate all aspects of post-college organi- 
zation. Graduates of an earlier period would quickly 
sense an alienation threatening their loyalties to 
the college. 

For better or worse, Montclair State does not 
offer a major in ecdysis. But neither is it the 
teachers college that many of us attended and 
even less is Montclair State the normal school 
characteristic of its formative years. So my reluc- 
tant classmate has his point, after all. We disregard 
his attempts to see himself reflected in the "new" 
Montclair at the peril of limiting alumni partici- 
pation in efforts the Fund might pursue. 

A second criticism of fund raising by an insti- 
tution like Montclair State lies in the nature of the 
college itself. Because, the argument goes, the 
school is financed by tax revenue and because 
everyone is a taxpayer, all obligations are thereby 
neutralized. 

I have found that it does no good to remind 
people that New Jersey is near or at the bottom 
when comparing per-capita support by the several 
states to their respective systems of public higher 
education. The reply, almost without exception, is 
that New Jersey's fiscal dilemma is a public prob- 
lem and should be solved as such by the State 
Legislature. 

When I began this article, it had been my inten- 
tion to offer an apologia for the premise that the 
College Development Fund is hardly a luxury for a 
future Montclair State, but something needed now, 
despite the uncertainties of change (I stand with 
Newman, "growth is the only evidence of life") and 
of political financing. It seems to me now, however, 
that this defense is largely redundant, considering 
that this issue of Alumni Forum contains an article 
by Karl Moll illustrative of how relevant the Fund 
actually is and an insert detailing the fiscal crisis 
besetting American higher education generally. 

Instead, I would prefer to make a few brief 
observations upon what I understand to be the 



fundamental aim of the College Development Fund. 

A truism of my undergraduate years at Mont- 
clair State (Teachers) College was the universal 
belief that the college had achieved much in the 
way of quality education with very slight material 
help. Allowable chauvanism aside, the statement 
was correct. I submit, however, that it wasn't a 
limited budget that made Montclair excellent. Fiscal 
deprivation was merely the frame within which ex- 
cellence flourished. This is a most important dis- 
tinction, for if a man, or a nation, or an educational 
institution understands its purposes solely in terms 
of the specific, thus phrasing capabilities in meas- 
urable limits and attainable ideals, then the decline 
has begun. It is the enforced spiritual austerity of 
challenge that makes us conscious not only of what 
we do, but of what we are. 

If Montclair State College is not to become the 
victim of its latter-day affluence and, despite con- 
tinuing needs, it is affluence relative to earlier per- 
iods, then the school must consciously seek the 
environment of challenge that was the natural con- 
dition of its former years. 

The College Development Fund attempts to 
serve the purposes of challenge. The Fund urges 
what is necessary, with secondary concern for what 
is possible. In the attitude of Browning's advice that 
"a man's reach should exceed his grasp," the Fund 
begins where the formalized, and therefore re- 
stricted, efforts of the college must end. The Fund 
is the goad to the potential of the evolving college. 

And why? Simply that Montclair State College 
must deliberately force aspiration beyond achieve- 
ment if it wishes to become what Disraeli held the 
university to be, "a place of light, of liberty and 
of learning." 



18 



A Special Report 



The 

Plain Fact Is . . 

. . . our colleges and 
universities "are facing 
what might easily 
become a crisis" 

OUR COLLEGES AND UNIVERSITIES, over the last 20 years, have 
experienced an expansion that is without precedent — in build- 
ings and in budgets, in students and in professors, in reputation 
and in rewards — in power and pride and in deserved prestige. As 
we try to tell our countrymen that we are faced with imminent 
bankruptcy, we confront the painful fact that in the eyes of the 
American people — and I think also in the eyes of disinterested 
observers abroad — we are a triumphant success. The observers 
seem to believe — and I believe myself — that the American cam- 
pus ranks with the American corporation among the handful of 
first-class contributions which our civilization has made to the 
annals of human institutions. We come before the country to 
plead financial emergency at a time when our public standing 
has never been higher. It is at the least an unhappy accident of 
timing. 

— McGeorge Bundy 

President, The Ford Foundation 




A Special Report 



A STATE-SUPPORTID UMVi RSiTY ill the Miclwest makes 
/% a sad announcement: With more well-qualified 
/ — % applicants for its freshman class than ever be- 
A ^^L^forc, the university must tighten its entrance 
requirements. Qualified though the kids are, the univer- 
sity must turn many of them away. 

► A private college in New England raises its tuition 
fee for the seventh time since World War IF. In doing 
so, it admits ruefully: "Many of the best high-school 
graduates can't afford to come here, any more." 

► A state college network in the West, long regarded 
as one of the nation's finest, cannot offer its students 
the usual range of instruction this year. Despite inten- 
sive recruiting, more than 1,000 openings on the faculty 
were unfilled at the start of the academic year. 

► A church-related college in the South, whose de- 
nomination's leaders believe in strict separation of church 
and state, severs its church ties in order to seek money 
from the government. The college must have such money, 
say its administrators — or it will die. 

Outwardly, America's colleges and universities ap- 
pear more affluent than at any time in the past. In the 
aggregate they have more money, more students, more 
buildings, better-paid faculties, than ever before in their 
history. 

Yet many are on the edge of deep trouble. 

"The plain fact," in the words of the president of 
Columbia University, "is that we are facing what might 
easily become a crisis in the financing of American higher 
education, and the sooner we know about it, the better 
ofT we will be." 

Tiir TROUBLE is not limited to a few institutions. 
Nor does it affect only one or two types of 
institution. Large universities, small colleges; 
state-supported and privately supported: the 
problem faces them all. 

Before preparing this report, the editors asked more 
than 500 college and university presidents to tell us — 
off the record, if they preferred — ^just how they viewed 
the future of their institutions. With rare exceptions, the 
presidents agreed on this assessment: That the money is 
not now in sight to meet the rising costs of higher educa- 
tion . . . to serve the growing numbers of bright, qualified 
students . . . and to pay for the myriad activities that Amer- 
icans now demand of their colleges and universities. 
Important programs and necessary new buildings arc 



A 



LL OF US are hard-put to see where we are going 
to get the funds to meet the educational demands 
of the coming decade. 

— A university president 



being deferred for lack of money, the presidents said. 
Many admitted to budget-tightening measures reminis- 
cent of those taken in days of the Great Depression. 

Is this new? Haven't the colleges and universities al- 
ways needed money? Is there something diflTerent about 
the situation today? 

The answer is "Yes" — to all three questions. 

The president of a large state university gave us this 
view of the over-all situation, at both the publicly and 
the privately supported institutions of higher education: 

"A good many institutions of higher learning are 
operating at a deficit," he said. "First, the private col- 
leges and universities: they are eating into their endow- 
ments in order to meet their expenses. Second, the public 
institutions. It is not legal to spend beyond our means, 
but here we have another kind of deficit: a deficit in 
quality, which will be extremely difficult to remedy even 
when adequate funding becomes available." 

Other presidents' comments were equally revealing: 

► From a university in the Ivy League: "Independent 
national universities face an uncertain future which 
threatens to blunt their thrust, curb their leadership, and 
jeopardize their independence. Every one that I know 
about is facing a deficit in its operating budget, this 
year or next. And all of us are hard-put to see where we 
are going to get the funds to meet the educational de- 
mands of the coming decade." 

► From a municipal college in the Midwest: "The best 
word to describe our situation is 'desperate.' We are 
operating at a deficit of about 20 per cent of our total 
expenditure." 

► From a private liberal arts college in Missouri: "Only 
by increasing our tuition charges are we keeping our 
heads above water. Expenditures are galloping to such 
a degree that I don't know how we will make out in the 
future." 

► From a church-related university on the West Coast: 
"We face very serious problems. Even though our tuition 
is below-average, we have already priced ourselves out of 
part of our market. We have gone deeply into debt for 
dormitories. Our church support is declining. At times, 
the outlook is grim." 

► From a state university in the Big Ten: "The bud- 
get for our operations must be considered tight. It is 
less than we need to meet the demands upon the univer- 
sity for teaching, research, and public service." 

► From a small liberal arts college in Ohio: "We are 



on a hand-to-mouth, 'kitchen' economy. Our ten-year 
projections indicate that we can maintain our quality 
only by doubling in size." 

► From a small college in the Northeast: "For the 
first time in its 150-year history, our college has a planned 
deficit. We are holding our heads above water at the 
moment — but, in terms of quality education, this can- 
not long continue without additional means of support." 

► From a state college in California: "We are not 
permitted to operate at a deficit. The funding of our bud- 
get at a level considerably below that proposed by the 
trustees has made it difficult for us to recruit staff mem- 
bers and has forced us to defer very-much-needed im- 
provements in our existing activities." 

► From a women's college in the South: "For the 
coming year, our budget is the tightest we have had in 
my fifteen years as president." 

What's gone wrong? 
Talk of the sort quoted above may 
seem strange, as one looks at the un- 
paralleled growth of America's colleges 
and universities during the past decade: 

► Hardly a campus in the land does not have a brand- 
new building or one under construction. Colleges and 
universities are spending more than $2 billion a year for 
capital expansion. 

► Faculty salaries have nearly doubled in the past 
decade. (But in some regions they are still woefully low.) 

► Private, voluntary support to colleges and univer- 
sities has more than tripled since 1958. Higher educa- 
tion's share of the philanthropic dollar has risen from 
1 1 per cent to 17 per cent. 

► State tax funds appropriated for higher education 
have increased 44 per cent in just two years, to a 1967-68 
total of nearly $4.4 billion. This is 214 per cent more than 
the sum appropriated eight years ago. 

► Endowment funds have more than doubled over 
the past decade. They're now estimated to be about $12 
billion, at market value. 

► Federal funds going to institutions of higher educa- 
tion have more than doubled in four years. 

► More than 300 new colleges and universities have 
been founded since 1945. 

► All in all, the total expenditure this year for U.S. 
higher education is some $18 billion — more than three 
times as much as in 1955. 



A 






Moreover, America's colleges and universities have 
absorbed the tidal wave of students that was supposed to 
have swamped them by now. They have managed to ful- 
fill their teaching and research functions and to under- 
take a variety of new public-service programs — despite 
the ominous predictions of faculty shortages heard ten 
or fifteen years ago. Says one foundation official: 

"The system is bigger, stronger, and more productive 
than it has ever been, than any system of higher educa- 
tion in the world." 

Why, then, the growing concern? 

Re-examine the progress of the past ten years, and 
this fact becomes apparent: The progress was great — 
but it did not deal with the basic flaws in higher educa- 
tion's financial situation. Rather, it made the whole en- 
terprise bigger, more sophisticated, and more expensive. 

Voluntary contributions grew — but the complexity and 
costliness of the nation's colleges and universities grew 
faster. 

Endowment funds grew — but the need for the income 
from them grew faster. 

State appropriations grew — but the need grew faster. 

Faculty salaries were rising. New courses were needed, 
due to the unprecedented "knowledge explosion." More 
costly apparatus was required, as scientific progress grew 
more complex. Enrollments burgeoned — and students 
stayed on for more advanced (and more expensive) train- 
ing at higher levels. 

And, for most of the nation's 2,300 colleges and uni- 
versities, an old problem remained — and was intensified, 
as the costs of education rose: gifts, endowment, and 
government funds continued to go, disproportionately, 
to a relative handful of institutions. Some 36 per cent of 
all voluntary contributions, for example, went to just 55 
major universities. Some 90 per cent of all endowment 
funds were owned by fewer than 5 per cent of the insti- 
tutions. In 1966, the most recent year reported, some 70 
per cent of the federal government's funds for higher 
education went to 100 institutions. 

McGeorge Bundy, the president of the Ford Founda- 
tion, puts it this way: 

"Great gains have been made; the academic profession 
has reached a wholly new level of economic strength, 
and the instruments of excellence — the libraries and 



Drawings by Peter Hooven 




E 



ACH NEW ATTEMPT at a massive solution has left 
the trustees and presidents just where they started. 

— A foundation president 



laboratories — are stronger than ever. But the university 
that pauses to look back will quickly fall behind in the 
endless race to the future." 

Mr. Bundy says further: 

"The greatest general problem of higher education is 
money .... The multiplying needs of the nation's col- 
leges and universities force a recognition that each new 
attempt at a massive solution has left the trustees and 
presidents just where they started: in very great need." 

THE FINANCIAL PROBLEMS of higher education 
are unlike those, say, of industry. Colleges and 
universities do not operate like General Mo- 
tors. On the contrary, they sell their two pri- 
mary services — teaching and research — at a loss. 

It is safe to say (although details may diflfer from 
institution to institution) that the American college or 
university student pays only a fraction of the cost of his 
education. 

This cost varies with the level of education and with 
the educational practices of the institution he attends. 
Undergraduate education, for instance, costs less than 
graduate education — which in turn may cost less than 
medical education. And the cost of educating a student 
in the sciences is greater than in the humanities. What- 
ever the variations, however, the student's tuition and 
fees pay only a portion of the bill. 

"As private enterprises," says one president, "we don't 
seem to be doing so well. We lose money every time we 
take in another student." 

Of course, neither he nor his colleagues on other 
campuses would have it otherwise. Nor, it seems clear, 
would most of the American people. 

But just as student instruction is provided at a sub- 
stantial reduction from the actual cost, so is the research 
that the nation's universities perform on a vast scale for 
the federal government. On this particular below-cost 
service, as contrasted with that involving the provision 
of education to their students, many colleges and univer- 
sities are considerably less than enthusiastic. 

In brief: The federal government rarely pays the full 
cost of the research it sponsors. Most of the money goes 
for direct costs (compensation for faculty time, equip- 
ment, computer use, etc.) Some of it goes for indirect 
costs (such "overhead" costs of the institution as payroll 
departments, libraries, etc.). Government policy stipu- 
lates that the institutions receiving federal research grants 




4. 



h 





/ 






|, !^y m //i { 



must share in the cost of the research by contributing, in 
some fashion, a percentage of the total amount of the 
grant. 

University presidents have insisted for many years 
that the government should pay the full cost of the re- 
search it sponsors. Under the present system of cost- 
sharing, they point out, it actually costs their institutions 
money to conduct federally sponsored research. This has 
been one of the most controversial issues in the partner- 
ship between higher education and the federal govern- 
ment, and it continues to be so. 

In commercial terms, then, colleges and universities 
sell their products at a loss. If they are to avoid going 
bankrupt, they must make up — from other sources — the 
difference between the income they receive for their ser- 
vices and the money they spend to provide them. 

With costs spiraling upward, that task becomes ever 
more formidable. 

HERE ARE SOME of the harsh facts: Operating ex- 
penditures for higher education more than 
tripled during the past decade — from about $4 
billion in 1956 to $12.7 billion last year. By 
1970, if government projections are correct, colleges and 
universities will be spending over $18 billion for their 
current operations, plus another $2 billion or $3 billion 
for capital expansion. 

Why such steep increases in expenditures? There are 
several reasons: 

► Student enrollment is now close to 7 million — 
twice what it was in 1960. 

► The rapid accumulation of new knowledge and a 
resulting trend toward specialization have led to a broad- 
ening of the curricula, a sharp increase in graduate study, 
a need for sophisticated new equipment, and increased 
library acquisitions. All are very costly. 

► An unprecedented growth in faculty salaries — long 
overdue — has raised instructional costs at most institu- 
tions. (Faculty salaries account for roughly half of the 
educational expenses of the average institution of higher 
learning.) 

► About 20 per cent of the financial "growth" during 
the past decade is accounted for by inflation. 

Not only has the over-all cost of higher education in- 
creased markedly, but the cost per student has risen 
steadily, despite increases in enrollment which might, in 
any other "industry," be expected to lower the unit cost. 

Colleges and universities apparently have not im- 
proved their productivity at the same pace as the econ- 
omy generally. A recent study of the financial trends in 
three private universities illustrates this. Between 1905 
and 1966, the educational cost per student at the three 
universities, viewed compositely, increased 20-fold, 
against an economy-wide increase of three- to four-fold. 
In each of the three periods of peace, direct costs per 
student increased about 8 per cent, against a 2 per cent 
annual increase in the economy-wide index. 




Some observers conclude from this that higher educa- 
tion must be made more efficient — that ways must be 
found to educate more students with fewer faculty and 
staff" members. Some institutions have moved in this 
direction by adopting a year-round calendar of opera- 
tions, permitting them to make maximum use of the 
faculty and physical plant. Instructional devices, pro- 
grammed learning, closed-circuit television, and other 
technological systems are being employed to increase 
productivity and to gain economies through larger 
classes. 

The problem, however, is to increase efficiency with- 
out jeopardizing the special character of higher educa- 
tion. Scholars are quick to point out that management 
techniques and business practices cannot be applied 
easily to colleges and universities. They observe, for 
example, that on strict cost-accounting principles, a col- 
lege could not justify its library. A physics professor, 
complaining about large classes, remarks: "When you 
get a hundred kids in a classroom, that's not education; 
that's show business." 

The college and university presidents whom we sur- 
veyed in the preparation of this report generally believe 
their institutions are making every dollar work. There is 
room for improvement, they acknowledge. But few feel 
the financial problems of higher education can be signifi- 
cantly reduced through more efficient management. 

ONE THING seems fairly certain: The -costs of 
i higher education will continue to rise. To 
' meet their projected expenses, colleges and 
universities will need to increase their annual 
operating income by more than $4 billion during the 
four-year period between 1966 and 1970. They must find 
another $8 billion or $10 billion for capital outlays. 
Consider what this might mean for a typical private 




university. A recent report presented this hypothetical 
case, based on actual projections of university expendi- 
tures and income: 

The institution's budget is now in balance. Its educa- 
tional and general expenditures total S24.5 million a 
year. 

Assume that the university's expenditures per student 
will continue to grow at the rate of the past ten years — 
7.5 per cent annually. Assume, too, that the university's 
enrollment will continue to grow at its rate of the past 
ten years — 3.4 per cent annually. Ten years hence, the 
institution's educational and general expenses would total 
$70.7 million. 

At best, continues the analysis, tuition payments in 
the next ten years will grow at a rate of 6 per cent a year; 
at worst, at a rate of 4 per cent — compared with 9 per 
cent over the past ten years. Endowment income will 
grow at a rate of 3.5 to 5 per cent, compared with 7.7 per 
cent over the past decade. Gifts and grants will grow at 
a rate of 4.5 to 6 per cent, compared w ith 6.5 per cent 
over the past decade. 

"If the income from private sources grew at the higher 
rates projected," says the analysis, "it would increase 
from $24.5 million to $50.9 million — leaving a deficit of 
$19.8 million, ten years hence. If its income from private 
sources grew at the lower rates projected, it would have 
increased to only $43 million — leaving a shortage of 
$27.8 million, ten years hence." 



In publicly supported colleges and universities, the 
outlook is no brighter, although the gloom is of a difTcr- 
cnt variety. Says the report of a study by two professors 
at the University of Wisconsin: 

"Public institutions of higher education in the United 
States are now operating at a quality deficit of more than 
a billion dollars a year. In addition, despite heavy con- 
struction schedules, they have accumulated a major capi- 
tal lag." 

The deficit cited by the Wisconsin professors is a com- 
putation of the cost of bringing the public institutions' 
expenditures per student to a level comparable with that 
at the private institutions. With the enrollment growth 
expected by 1975, the professors calculate, the "quality 
deficit" in public higher education will reach S2.5 billion. 

The problem is caused, in large part, by the tremendous 
enrollment increases in public colleges and universities. 
The institutions' resources, says the Wisconsin study, 
"may not prove equal to the task." 

Moreover, there are indications that public institutions 
may be nearing the limit of expansion, unless they receive 
a massive infusion of new funds. One of every seven pub- 
lic universities rejected qualified applicants from their 
own states last fall; two of every seven rejected qualified 
applicants from other states. One of every ten raised ad- 
missions standards for in-state students; one in six raised 
standards for out-of-state students. 

WILL THE FUNDS be found to meet the pro- 
jected cost increases of higher education? 
Colleges and universities have tradi- 
tionally received their operating income 
from three sources: from the students, in the form of tui- 
tion and fees; from the state, in the form of legislative 
appropriations; and from individuals, foundations, and 
corporations, in the form of gifts. (Money from the federal 
government for operating expenses is still more of a hope 
than a reality.) 

Can these traditional sources of funds continue to 
meet the need? The question is much on the minds of the 
nation's college and university presidents. 

► Tuition and fees: They have been rising — and are 
likely to rise more. A number of private "prestige" in- 
stitutions have passed the $2,000 mark. Public institutions 
are under mounting pressure to raise tuition and fees, 
and their student charges have been rising at a faster rate 
than those in private institutions. 

The problem of student charges is one of the most 
controversial issues in higher education today. Some feel 
that the student, as the direct beneficiary of an education, 
should pay most or all of its real costs. Others disagree 
emphatically: since society as a whole is the ultimate 
beneficiary, they argue, every student should have the 
right to an education, whether he can afford it or not. 

The leaders of publicly supported colleges and univer- 
sities are almost unanimous on this point: that higher 
tuitions and fees will erode the premise of equal oppor- 



T 

-1.UITION: We are reaching a point of diminishing 
returns. — A college president 

It's like buying a second home. — A parent 



tunity on which public higher education is based. They 
would hke to see the present trend reversed — toward free, 
or at least lower-cost, higher education. 

Leaders of private institutions find the rising tuitions 
equally disturbing. Heavily dependent upon the income 
they receive from students, many such institutions find 
that raising their tuition is inescapable, as costs rise. 
Scores of presidents surveyed for this report, however, 
said that mounting tuition costs are "pricing us out of 
the market." Said one: "As our tuition rises beyond the 
reach of a larger and larger segment of the college-age 
population, we find it more and more difficult to attract 
oui quota of students. We are reaching a point of dimin- 
ishing returns." 

Parents and students also are worried. Said one father 
who has been financing a college education for three 
daughters: "It's like buying a second home." 

Stanford Professor Roger A. Freeman says it isn't 
really that bad. In his book. Crisis in College Finance?, 
he points out that when tuition increases have been ad- 
justed to the shrinking value of the dollar or are related 
to rising levels of income, the cost to the student actually 
declined between 1941 and 1961. But this is small consola- 
tion to a man with an annual salary of $15,000 and three 
daughters in college. 

Colleges and universities will be under increasing pres- 
sure to raise their rates still higher, but if they do, they 
will run the risk of pricing themselves beyond the means 
of more and more students. Indeed, the evidence is strong 
that resistance to high tuition is growing, even in rela- 
tively well-to-do families. The College Scholarship Ser- 
vice, an arm of the College Entrance Examination Board, 
reported recently that some middle- and upper-income 
parents have been "substituting relatively low-cost insti- 
tutions" because of the rising prices at some of the na- 
tion's colleges and universities. 

The presidents of such institutions have nightmares 
over such trends. One of them, the head of a private 
college in Minnesota, told us: 

"We are so dependent upon tuition for approximately 
50 per cent of our operating expenses that if 40 fewer 
students come in September than we expect, we could 
have a budgetary deficit this year of $50,000 or more." 

► State appropriations: The 50 states have appropri- 
ated nearly $4.4 billion for their colleges and universities 
this year — a figure that includes neither the $l-$2 billion 
spent by public institutions for capital expansion, nor 
the appropriations of local governments, which account 



for about 10 per cent of all public appropriations for the 
operating expenses of higher education. 

The record set by the states is remarkable — one that 
many observers would have declared impossible, as re- 
cently as eight years ago. In those eight years, the states 
have increased their appropriations for higher education 
by an incredible 214 per cent. 

Can the states sustain this growth in their support of 
higher education? Will they be willing to do so? 

The more pessimistic observers believe that the states 
can't and won't, without a drastic overhaul in the tax 
structures on which state financing is based. The most 
productive tax sources, such observers say, have been 
pre-empted by the federal government. They also believe 
that more and more state funds will be used, in the fu- 
ture, to meet increasing demands for other services. 

Optimists, on the other hand, are convinced the states 
are far from reaching the upper limits of their ability to 
raise revenue. Tax reforms, they say, will enable states 
to increase their annual budgets sufficiently to meet higher 
education's needs. 

The debate is theoretical. As a staff report to the Ad- 
visory Commission on Intergovernmental Relations con- 
cluded: "The appraisal of a state's fiscal capacity is a 
political decision [that] it alone can make. It is not a 
researchable problem." 

Ultimately, in short, the decision rests with the tax- 
payer. 

► Voluntary private gifts: Gifts are vital to higher 
education. 

In private colleges and universities, they are part of the 
lifeblood. Such institutions commonly budget a deficit, 
and then pray that it will be met by private gifts. 

In public institutions, private gifts supplement state 
appropriations. They provide what is often called "a 
margin for excellence." Many public institutions use such 
funds to raise faculty salaries above the levels paid for by 
the state, and are thus able to compete for top scholars. 
A number of institutions depend upon private gifts for 
student facilities that the state does not provide. 

Will private giving grow fast enough to meet the grow- 
ing need? As with state appropriations, opinions vary. 

John J. Schwartz, executive director of the American 
Association of Fund-Raising Counsel, feels there is a 
great untapped reservoir. At present, for example, only 
one out of every four alumni and alumnae contributes to 
higher education. And, while American business corpora- 
tions gave an estimated $300 million to education 



in 1965-66, this was only about 0.37 per cent of their net 
income before taxes. On the average, companies contrib- 
ute only about 1.10 per cent of net income before taxes 
to all causes — well below the 5 per cent allowed by the 
Federal government. Certainly there is room for expan- 
sion. 

(Colleges and universities are working overtime to tap 
this reservoir. Mr. Schwartz's association alone lists 117 
colleges and universities that are now campaigning to 
raise a combined total of $4 billion.) 

But others are not so certain that expansion in private 
giving will indeed take place. The 46th annual survey by 
the John Price Jones Company, a firm of fund-raising 
counselors, sampled 50 colleges and universities and found 
a decline in voluntary giving of 8.7 per cent in 12 months. 
The Council for Financial Aid to Education and the 
American Alumni Council calculate that voluntary sup- 
port for higher education in 1965-66 declined by some 
1.2 per cent in the same period. 

Refining these figures gives them more meaning. The 
major private universities, for example, received about 
36 per cent of the $1.2 billion given to higher education 
— a decrease from the previous year. Private liberal arts 
colleges also fell behind: coeducational colleges dropped 
10 per cent, men's colleges dropped 16.2 per cent, and 
women's colleges dropped 1 2.6 per cent. State institutions, 
on the other hand, increased their private support by 
23.8 percent. 

The record of some cohesive groups of colleges and 
universities is also revealing. Voluntary support of eight 
Ivy League institutions declined 27.8 per cent, for a total 
loss of $61 million. The Seven College Conference, a 
group of women's colleges, reported a drop of 41 per cent. 
The Associated Colleges of the Midwest dropped about 



^^'^-.iJi^. 



o 



N THE QUESTION OF FEDERAL AID, everybody seems 
to be running to the same side of the boat. 

— A college president 



5.5 per cent. The Council of Southern Universities de- 
dined 6.2 per cent. Fifty-five major private universities 
received 7.7 per cent less from gifts. 

Four groups gained. The state universities and colleges 
received 20.5 per cent more in private gifts in 1965-66 
than in the previous year. Fourteen technological insti- 
tutions gained 10.8 per cent. Members of the Great Lakes 
College Association gained 5.6 per cent. And Western 
Conference universities, plus the University of Chicago, 
gained 34.5 per cent. (Within each such group, of course, 
individual colleges may have gained or lost differently 
from the group as a whole.) 

The biggest drop in voluntary contributions came in 
foundation grants. Although this may have been due, in 
part, to the fact that there had been some unusually large 
grants the previous year, it may also have been a fore- 
taste of things to come. Many of those who observe 
foundations closely think such grants will be harder and 
harder for colleges and universities to come by, in years 
to come. 

FEARING that the traditional sources of revenue may 
not yield the necessary funds, college and uni- 
versity presidents are looking more and more to 
Washington for the solution to their financial 
problems. 

The president of a large state university in the South, 
whose views are typical of many, told us: "Increased fed- 
eral support is essential to the fiscal stability of the col- 
leges and universities of the land. And such aid is a proper 
federal expenditure." 

Most of his colleagues agreed — some reluctantly. Said 
the president of a college in Iowa: "I don't like it . . . but 
it may be inevitable." Another remarked: "On the ques- 



tion of federal aid, everybody seems to be running to the 
same side of the boat." 

More federal aid is almost certain to come. The ques- 
tion is. When? And in what form? 

Realism compels this answer: In the near future, the 
federal government is unlikely to provide substantial 
support for the operating expenses of the country's col- 
leges and universities. 

The war in Vietnam is one reason. Painful effects of 
war-prompted economies have already been felt on the 
campuses. The effective federal funding of research per 
faculty member is declining. Construction grants are be- 
coming scarcer. Fellowship programs either have been 
reduced or have merely held the line. 

Indeed, the changes in the flow of federal money to the 
campuses may be the major event that has brought higher 
education's financial problems to their present head. 

Would things be different in a peacetime economy? 
Many college and university administrators think so. 
They already are planning for the day when the Vietnam 
war ends and when, the thinking goes, huge sums of fed- 
eral money will be available for higher education. It is no 
secret that some government officials are operating on 
the same assumption and are designing new programs of 
support for higher education, to be put into effect when 
the war ends. 

Others are not so certain the postwar money flow is 
that inevitable. One of the doubters is Clark Kerr, former 
president of the University of California and a man with 
considerable first-hand knowledge of the relationship be- 
tween higher education and the federal government. Mr. 
Kerr is inclined to believe that the colleges and universi- 
ties will have to fight for their place on a national priority 
list that will be crammed with a number of other pressing 




c 



OLLEGES AND UNIVERSITIES are tough. They have 
survived countless cataclysms and crises, and one 
way or another they will endure. 

— A college president 



problems: air and water pollution, civil rights, and the 
plight of the nation's cities, to name but a few. 

One thing seems clear: The pattern of federal aid must 
change dramatically, if it is to help solve the financial 
problems of U.S. higher education. Directly or indirectly, 
more federal dollars must be applied to meeting the in- 
creasing costs of operating the colleges and universities, 
even as the government continues its support of students, 
of building programs, and of research. 

IN SEARCHING for a way out of their financial difficul- 
ties, colleges and universities face the hazard that their 
individual interests may conflict. Some form of com- 
petition (since the institutions are many and the 
sources of dollars few) is inevitable and healthy. But one 
form of competition is potentially dangerous and de- 
structive and, in the view of impartial supporters of all 
institutions of higher education, must be avoided at all 
costs. 

This is a conflict between private and public colleges 
and universities. 

In simpler times, there was little cause for friction. 
Public institutions received their funds from the states. 
Private institutions received their funds from private 
sources. 

No longer. All along the line, and with increasing fre- 
quency, both types of institution are seeking both public 
and private support — often from the same sources: 

► The state treasuries: More and more private insti- 
tutions are suggesting that some form of state aid is not 
only necessary but appropriate. A number of states have 
already enacted programs of aid to students attending 
private institutions. Some 40 per cent of the state ap- 
propriation for higher education in Pennsylvania now 
goes to private institutions. 

► The private philanthropists: More and more public 
institutions are seeking gifts from individuals, founda- 
tions, and corporations, to supplement the funds they 
receive from the state. As noted earlier in this report, 
their efforts are meeting with growing success. 

► The federal government: Both public and private 
colleges and universities receive funds from Washington. 
But the different types of institution sometimes disagree 
on the fundamentals of distributing it. 

Should the government help pay the operating costs of 
colleges and universities by making grants directly to the 
institutions — perhaps through a formula based on enroll- 



ments? The heads of many public institutions are inclined 
to think so. The heads of many low-enrollment, high- 
tuition private institutions, by contrast, tend to favor pro- 
grams that operate indirectly — perhaps by giving enough 
money to the students themselves, to enable them to pay 
for an education at whatever institutions they might 
choose. 

Similarly, the strongest opposition to long-term, fed- 
erally underwritten student-loan plans — some envisioning 
a payback period extending over most of one's hfetime^- 
comes from public institutions, while some private-college 
and university leaders find, in such plans, a hope that 
their institutions might be able to charge "full-cost" tui- 
tion rates without barring students whose families can't 
afl"ord to pay. 

In such frictional situations, involving not only billions 
of dollars but also some very deep-seated convictions 
about the country's educational philosophy, the chances 
that destructive conflicts might develop are obviously 
great. If such conflicts were to grow, they could only sap 
the energies of all who engage in them. 

IF THERE IS INDEED A CRISIS building in American higher 
education, it is not solely a problem of meeting the 
minimum needs of our colleges and universities in 
the years ahead. Nor, for most, is it a question of 
survive or perish; "colleges and universities are tough," 
as one president put it; "they have survived countless 
cataclysms and crises, and one way or another they will 
endure." 

The real crisis will be finding the means of providing 
the quality, the innovation, the pioneering that the nation 
needs, if its system of higher education is to meet the 
demands of the morrow. 

Not only must America's colleges and universities 
serve millions more students in the years ahead; they 
must also equip these young people to live in a world that 
is changing with incredible swiftness and complexity. At 
the same time, they must carry on the basic research on 
which the nation's scientific and technological advance- 
ment rests. And they must be ever-ready to help meet the 
immediate and long-range needs ofsociety; ever-responsive 
to society's demands. 

At present, the questions outnumber the answers. 
► How can the United States make sure that its col- 
leges and universities not only will accomplish the mini- 
mum task but will, in the words of one corporate leader. 







• .^..W v*'**' 



N 



OTHiNG IS MORE IMPORTANT than the critical and 
knowledgeable interest of our alumni. It cannot 
possibly be measured in merely financial terms. 

— A university president 



provide "an educational system adequate to enable us to 
live in the complex environment of this century?" 

► Do we really want to preserve the diversity of an 
educational system that has brought the country a 
strength unknown in any other time or any other place? 
And, if so, can we? 

► How can we provide every youth with as much 
education as he is qualified for? 

► Can a balance be achieved in the sources of higher 
education's support, so that public and private institutions 
can flourish side by side? 

► How can federal money best be channeled into our 
colleges and universities without jeopardizing their inde- 
pendence and without discouraging support either from 
the state legislatures or from private philanthropy? 

The answers will come painfully; there is no panacea. 
Quick solutions, fashioned in an atmosphere of crisis, are 
likely to compound the problem. The right answers will 
emerge only from greater understanding on the part of 
the country's citizens, from honest and candid discussion 
of the problems, and from the cooperation and support of 
all elements of society. 

The president of a state university in the Southwest told 
us: "Among state universities, nothing is more important 



than the growing critical and knowledgeable interest of 
our alumni. That interest leads to general support. It 
cannot possibly be measured in merely financial terms." 

A private college president said: "The greatest single 
source of improvement can come from a realization on 
the part of a broad segment of our population that higher 
education must have support. Not only will people have 
to give more, but more will have to give." 

But do people understand? A special study by the 
Council for Financial Aid to Education found that: 

► 82 per cent of persons in managerial positions or 
the professions do not consider American business to be 
an important source of gift support for colleges and 
universities. 

► 59 per cent of persons with incomes of $10,000 or 
over do not think higher education has financial problems. 

► 52 per cent of college graduates apparently are not 
aware that their alma mater has financial problems. 

To America's colleges and universities, these are the 
most discouraging revelations of all. Unless the American 
people — especially the college and university alumni — 
can come alive to the reality of higher education's im- 
pending crisis, then the problems of today will be the 
disasters of tomorrow. 



The report on this and the preceding 15 
pages is the product of a cooperative en- 
deavor in which scores of schools, colleges, 
and universities are taking part. It was pre- 
pared under the direction of the group listed 
below, who form editorial projects for 
EDUCATION, a non-profit organization associ- 
ated with the American Alumni Council. 



Naturally, in a report of such length and 
scope, not all statements necessarily reflect 
the views of all the persons involved, or of 
their institutions. Copyright © 1968 by Edi- 
torial Projects for Education, Inc. All rights 
reserved; no part may be reproduced without 
the express permission of the editors. Printed 
in U. S. A. 



DENTON BEAL 

Carnegie-Mellon University 

DAVID A. BURR 

The University of Oklahoma 

MARALYN O. GILLESPIE 

Swarthmore College 

CHARLES M. HELMKEN 

American Alumni Council 

GEORGE C. KELLER 

Columbia University 



JOHN I. MATTILL 

Massachusetts Institute 
of Technology 

KEN METZLER 

The University of Oregon 

RUSSELL OLIN 

The University of Colorado 

JOHN W. PATON 

Wesleyan University 

ROBERT M. RHODES 

The University of Pennsylvania 



STANLEY SAPLIN 

New York University 

VERNE A. STADTMAN 

The University of California 

FREDERIC A. STOTT 

Phillips Academy, Andover 

FRANK J. TATE 

The Ohio State University 

CHARLES E. WIDMAYER 

Dartmouth College 



DOROTHY F. WILLIAMS 

Simmons College 

RONALD A. WOLK 

The Carnegie Commission on 
Higher Education 

ELIZABETH BOND WOOD 

Sweet Briar College 

CHESLEY WORTHINGTON 

Brown University 



CORBIN GWALTNEY 

Executive Editor 



JOHN A. CROWL 

Associate Editor 



WILLIAM A. MILLER, JR. 

Managing Editor 



The Montclair Student-Today 




By ERNEST JAEGER '68 

PRESIDENT OF THE SENIOR CLASS 

FORMER EDITOR OF THE MONTCLARION 



The Montclair State College student today dif- 
fers from his academic ancestor in many ways. 
Many of the activities in which today's student is 
engaged are very much different from the activities 
in which previous Montclair students were engaged. 
Today's student still attends classes in the admin- 
istration building and the annexes. He finds quiet 
in the amphitheatre, probably the only place on an 
extremely over-crowded campus where he can truly 
be alone. He enjoys long walks up to Davella Mills 
Reservation, or to Upper Montclair, or across an 
ever expanding campus. He attends theatrical pre- 
sentations in a professionally equipped auditorium. 

Basketball, football and baseball games are now 
played on new courts and recently sodded fields. 
If he wants a bit of diversion, today's MSC student 
can swim a few laps in the new indoor pool. Tired 
of the usual classroom lectures, he can hear nation- 
ally reknown speakers James Meredith, Arthur 
Schlesinger Jr., Bosley Crowther, or James Dickey. 
He can see the best examples of cinema art almost 
any night of the week on campus. He can be inspired 



by the Vienna Symphony, the Baltimore Symphony 
or the Israel National Youth Symphony in pre-New 
York performances on campus. If his tastes are less 
long-hair, he can hear the Lovin' Spoonful, the Four 
Tops, or the Lettermen in concert. 

Today's Montclair student can express his dis- 
pleasure with the War by standing in silent protest 
in a Student Peace Union demonstration in front of 
the library. He can find guidance in one of the 
religious chaplains who now have office hours on 
campus. He can question a number of experts on 
subjects discussed at teach-ins concerning War and 
Peace, the Disadvantaged Child, and the changing 
role of the college student. 

The Montclair student today can make himself 
heard through an expanded Student Government 
Association. He can find social fulfillment in the 
College Life Union Board's activities. He can show 
fraternity or sorority loyalties with his participation 
in Homecoming, Greek Sing. Pi's Follies or Carnival. 
He can express himself through the various campus 
publications. Perhaps most importantly, today's 



19 



Montclair student can still find expression, stimu- 
lation, excitement, gratification and intellectual 
challenge in a diversified and expanding curriculum. 

Many of the changes in the Montclair student 
and his environment are reflective of the changes 
in the national student population. Today's students 
are more active than the previous generation of stu- 
dents. Their activities center a great deal more 
around society and its problems than the fraternity 
party on Saturday night. The days of F. Scott Fitz- 
gerald's Princeton are gone. Today the Princeton 
student, perhaps representative of the trend in the 
entire Ivy League, is less aristocratic and more con- 
cerned. The Princeton man is no longer the prep 
school graduate. Only 38 per cent of Princeton's 
undergraduates are prep school students as com- 
pared with 52 per cent in 1957. The Princeton stu- 
dent is dissatisfied with social conditions both on 
and off campus. A student poll found that only 18 
per cent of the Princeton undergraduate population 
was satisfied with the university's social scene. The 
preeminence of the eating club at Princeton also 
seems to be ending. Almost 500 sophomores refused 
to become involved in the eating clubs' "bicker" 
or rushing this year. 

Just last Autumn 30 Princeton students were 
arrested while protesting the university's involve- 
ment with the Pentagon-financed Institute for De- 
fense Analysis. "This isn't Princeton," commented 
president Robert F. Goheen during the demonstra- 
tion. However, the fact remains that this and dem- 
onstrations across the country are very much part 
of the current academic scene. 

Today's students are demanding an active role 
in the policy making of the campus community. 
They are demanding that their decisions count. 
Students are striving for a democratization of the 
campus. They want complete control of dormitory 
life and social regulations. They wanfa voice in 
calendar, curriculum, and campus planning. Such 
a growing request for student involvement in edu- 
cational planning has been seen at Montclair State. 
President Thomas H. Richardson, in his column in 
the September 29, 1 967, issue of the Montclarion, 
outlined the steps taken at Montclair which will 
work to improve the status of students in the func- 
tioning of the college. 

A college coordinating committee was created 
in order to facilitate communications on policy de- 
cisions. This committee's formation is significant 
because it allows representatives from the three 
major campus groups to take an active role in 
campus policy making. The group is composed of 



four members of the Administrative Council, four 
members chosen by the Faculty Council, and four 
student members selected by the Student Govern- 
ment Association. This coordinating committee 
meets with the President and Dean of the College. 
The committee serves as a means of allowing stu- 
dents to remain aware of developments within the 
college and as a means of allowing student opinion 
to be considered before action is taken. 

Student representatives have been added to 
many of the previously existing college committees. 
No committee which is concerned with problems of 
student life and welfare is without student repre- 
sentatives. Student representatives will be added to 
the curriculum committee as well as to committees 
concerned with such matters as student publications 
and commencement. 

Dormitory councils are in many ways responsible 
for the high degree of self-discipline which exists 
in both the men's and women's dormitories. Aside 
from .serving a social function, dormitory councils 
also control the majority of student infractions of 
the dormitory rules, most of which have been es- 
tablished by the students themselves. 

The Dean of Students is presently meeting with 
a group of students and faculty to adopt a set of 
rules and policies which define the limits of student 
behavior on campus. The committee is basically 
concerned with the academic freedoms which will 
most affect student actions on campus. All areas of 
student life will be covered by this written policy. 

The Dean of Students also meets regularly with 
Montclair students in the form of a Dean's Advisory 
Board. This board handles problems which are of 
current concern to the students on campus. Many 
immediate student problems have been quickly re- 
solved as a result of the work of this committee. 
Today's Montclair student has greater channels of 
communication with administration and faculty open 
to him than did previous students. Indeed, the Mont- 
clair student is in an enviable position in the aca- 
demic community, where so many students are de- 
prived of such lines of communications. 

The Montclarion early in the year conducted a 
student poll, requesting opinions on current aca- 
demic issues. Perhaps, the most important and cur- 
rent issue is grading. With the adoption of Yale's 
pass-fail system of grading early in the academic 
year, the concern already evident in this matter 
began to grow among students across the country. 
Educators and students are realizing that many 
marking systems are incoherent and sometimes 
"unfair". The administration at Yale, following the 



20 



example of such colleges as Sarah Lawrence and 
Bennington, adopted a pass-fail system. Students at 
Yale now receive a "pass" or a "fail" as their final 
grade. If a student does outstanding work, provision 
is made for a "high pass" or "honor" for his 
achievement. 

When polled, three out of five students at 
Montclair indicated support of the pass-fail system. 
In a letter to the editor in the November 22 issue of 
the Montclarion, a group of Seniors expressed their 
disapproval of the present system. This group of 
students stated that "only in such a secure atmos- 
phere can the student evolve a mature style of 
thinking and acting. The development of such a 
style is hampered by the present system of evalua- 
tion." Another student, questioned in the poll, 
stated that "more students would take a sincere 
interest in the subjects they're studying, since stu- 
dents would not be fighting for grades." Another 
student felt that pass-fail would encourage students 
to take courses "they would usually avoid because 
they may be too hard." "Our current system," states 
another student, "encourages students to work for 
grades rather than for learning and knowledge." 
One of the other students polled feared that "pass- 
fail would result in academic apathy." It is perhaps 
significant to note that pass-fail has been thrown 
out by many colleges which found a decrease in 
student achievement. Whether pass-fail will work 
at Montclair State will probably depend on the stu- 
dent's academic honesty, their desire to truly learn 
and the professors' desires to stimulate truly creative 
learning. 

Students also expressed an overwhelming desire 
to evaluate their professors. One junior, replied in 
the poll that "our teachers should be graded by a 
committee of students. The results would then 
serve as a report card to the chairmen of the respec- 
tive departments." A senior reported "many pro- 
fessors fail to maintain standards of study and are 
not usually interested in the individual student's 
progress. Therefore a tutorial system should be in- 
troduced." The desire for evaluation of professors 
and courses would indicate a student desire to ob- 
tain the greatest benefits from the educational proc- 
ess. The college student can usually judge, after 
sitting in a class, whether or not a professor is aca- 
demically prepared or intellectually challenging. 

It has become increasingly easy for colleges and 
universities today, in their zeal to provide classroom 
space, lounge space, dormitory accommodations and 
cafeteria services, to sometime overlook the main 
goal of the academic instruction. The Laurel Review, 



a student literary publication at the University of 
Bridgeport, expressed this sentiment on the dedi- 
cation page of its issue last Spring. Its pages were 
dedicated "to those students and faculty at the 
University of Bridgeport who still believe that a 
university's goal is to build dreams, not an organi- 
zational plant worth millions." The students them- 
selves at Bridgeport and around the country realize 
the need for an emphasis on the educational rather 
than the physical aspects of the institution. This is 
perhaps why students are questioning the current 
grading systems, asking for evaluation of professors 
and demanding a voice on policy making committees. 

It is more than dreams which the university 
should build. The essence of individual being, 
gleaned from watching, feeling, experiencing, tast- 
ing should be stressed by the university. The uni- 
versity should provide a place for the student to 
come to terms with himself. 

As one approaches the final year of his under- 
graduate education, he begins to realize that there 
is a unique feeling within him. It is more than 
nostalgia, more than the spirit of football games, 
Greek Sing, Cotillion, Carnival and Homecoming. 
It is something more than memories of long walks 
to Upper Montclair through sidewalks laden with 
fallen leaves in Autumn, or bull sessions in the 
dormitory until the early hours of the morning. It's 
more than walking across campus with the snow 
crunching underfoot, accompanied by the strains of 
voices practicing for Greek Sing. The feeling is more 
than memories of the last dance at Senior Ball or the 
last good-bye to college friends. It's more than the 
excitement of an "A" in a four credit course or the 
joy of making Dean's List. It's more than the thrill 
of being elected class president. The parting feeling 
is more than these, yet it is all of these. The parting 
feeling comes from a realization that college is a 
place where he was allowed to be himself. College is 
a place where he saw himself through others, 
through courses and through the face to face con- 
frontation with great ideas. The parting feeling 
hurts because somehow he's leaving part of himself. 



The Role of the 



By IRVING SCHWARTZBACH, '50 
RUTGERS UNIVERSITY, NEW BRUNSWICK 



The large urban centers of the United States, 
especially of the northeastern United States are 
rapidly becoming populated by the poor. Most of 
these poor are Negro and Puerto Rican people. At 
present one out of three urban children are under- 
privileged, poverty stricken families. By 1975, the 
government estimates this figure will rise to two 
out of three children. Therefore, almost by defin- 
ition, a teacher in a large urban center, such as 
Newark, is, and will increasingly be, a teacher of 
underprivileged, poverty stricken Negro and Puerto 
Rican children. 

The first task of the teacher is to understand 
the culture and attitudes of the child he teaches. 
The educator must of necessity work within the 
framework of the culture as it exists. It is unrealistic 
to expect to make large-scale changes in the home 
environment. 

Many of the attitudes of the "slum" child 
toward education are positive, although his attitude 
toward the school and the teacher may be negative. 
The "slum" child wants an education which will 
help him cope with his world and to make a living. 



Their difficulty in school often arises because the 
school stresses education for its own sake and as a 
means for the development of self-expression. Add 
to this the discrimination wittingly and unwittingly 
practiced in the school, and the result is an alienated, 
angry child who desires education, but dislikes 
school. 

It is becoming increasingly clear that many 
teachers tend to blame environmental conditions or 
lack of innate ability for their failure to teach the 
"slum" child. Too many teachers "teach down" to 
Negro and Puerto Rican children and thus further 
impoverish them. No one will deny that the slum 
environment has a "bad" affect upon the child 
before he enters school. However, many studies 
show that the differentiation between the "slum" 
child and the middle class child is smallest or nar- 
rowest in the first grade. By the third grade the 
"slum" child has fallen one year behind, by the 
sixth grade two years, and by senior year those who 
have survived are on the average at least three years 
behind. The educational system fails to develop a 
climate for learning which is geared to their needs. 




Occupational and technical courses must be added to the 
curriculum of urban schools. 



Disruptive and emotionally disturbed students require special 
attention and counseling. 



Inner-City School 



Rather, the experiences which the child has in 
school tend to be negative and to compound his 
problems. 

The school too often treats "slum" children, 
especially Negro children, as being different. The 
children then become different. Children who are 
treated as if they are ineducable tend to see them- 
selves in that light and become ineducable. Children 
who are treated inferior tend to dislike themselves 
and to become consumed with self-hate, which 
manifests itself in forms of depression and apathetic 
behavior or they project their self-hatred onto so- 
ciety in the form of delinquent behavior. 

The first job of the school is to give these chil- 
dren a feeling of pride, self-worth. Curriculum and 
modern buildings will not educate a child who feels 
worthless. Studies have shown that a child learns 
what he believes he is able to learn, and that such 
self-perception is acquired during the interaction 
with important adults who hold expectations of the 
child as a learner. Teachers can enhance the self- 
image of their students by creating an atmosphere of 
greater psychological security. A dynamic teacher 
can have a dramatic effect, both as a source of inspi- 
ration and as a focal point for positive identi- 
fications. 



There is a great need to teach and develop a 
special type of teacher for the "slum" child. We 
must train a teacher who believes the children can 
learn. When Dr. Kenneth Clark sent a group of his 
white psychology students to interview New York 
public school teachers they found that over half of 
the teachers and administrators asserted Negro chil- 
dren "cannot be expected to learn as much or as 
readily as white children . . ." 

The urban center teacher must bring with him 
a high degree of awareness that the teaching-learn- 
ing process is basically a delicate human transaction 
requiring skill and sensitivity in human relations. 
He must be aware of his own needs and motivations 
and their consequences to the learning processes. 
He must have the ability to accept the "slum" child 
as a person. Such acceptance includes the ability 
to respect and listen, and to separate the child from 
the disagreeable aspects of his behavior. This last 
point is very important because the teacher of the 
"slum" child must expect to meet antagonistic, 
loud, disturbing behavior. The only way many of 
these children have learned to master anxiety, ten- 
sion and uneasiness is by loud, boisterous, behavior, 
which at least brings a known and predictable re- 
sponse from authorities. 




Every inner-city school needs an expansion of counseling and 
psychological services. 



Reading laboratories and remedial reading instruction are 
mandatory. 

(All photos taken at Barringer High School, Newark, New Jersey) 



Colleges, such as Montclair, must prepare a 
special type of teacher to work with the inner city 
child. The teacher must have empathy and must be 
able to communicate this empathy to the children. 
The teacher should be prepared with advanced 
courses in human relations, sociology and psychol- 
ogy. They must be well trained in child study and 
counseling, in the teaching of reading and in cor- 
rective and remedial techniques. The prospective 
teacher must be brought into contact with the area 
in which he will teach. He should, while in college, 
make neighborhood and family visitations. He should 
work in urban community action programs, in rec- 
reation, and in enrichment and study programs. 
Practice teaching should not be his first contact with 
the urban child, rather it should be part of a con- 
tinuing program which began in his freshman year. 

The school has greatly expanded its function 
as our society has become more complicated and 
more demanding. Today it is generally agreed that 
education should aim to develop a student's abilities 
to write and speak clearly, to deal with numbers and 
figures, to think critically, to appreciate personal 
and cultural differences, and to enjoy art and music. 
At the same time, they should prepare the young for 
entrance into the existing social order. The inner 
city school should provide the child with a quality 
school program. A program which is academic ori- 
ented, but which is presented in such ways as to 
meet the special needs of the urban child. 

In addition to this basic program, the inner city 
schools should develop additional special approaches 
to assist the "slum" child. These programs should 
be remedial in nature and should be found on all 
levels of the school system. There must be many 
specialists on the staff. Each high school and junior 
high school should have a team made up of a psy- 
chologist, school worker, a remedial specialist and a 
consulting psychiatrist. All "slum" schools should 
have special enrichment programs to broaden the 
cultural experiences of the children. The recent 
Federal Aid given through Title I is a beginning but 
it must be greatly expanded. The schools should 
provide a continuous program of vocational orien- 
tation and guidance. It is especially important that 
the urban child be shown examples of people of 
their own race, ethnic group, economic level or 
cultural background who have succeeded. It is best 
if these examples are only a few steps up the ladder 
of success. Bringing in Harry Belafonte is enter- 
taining and inspiring but the average Negro boy 
can not aspire to become another Belafonte. It is 
better to bring into career day conferences local 



people who are successful in the many normal jobs 
or professions which exist in the inner city. 

All urban schools should experiment with or 
expand existing work-study programs. Such pro- 
grams are not a cure-all for the drop-out problem, 
but they will help alleviate the problem. 

Finally, it is very necessary to bring in special 
materials and textbooks appropriate for use with 
Negro and Puerto Rican children. Negro History 
courses should be developed and offered to all 
children as an elective. This is absolutely necessary 
if we are to work toward building a better self-con- 
cept in Negro children. People can not be proud in 
the abstract. They must be proud of something or 
someone. Up to the present, white Americans have 
refused to allow the Negro to even learn of his 
past. The textbooks treat the Negro first as a lowly, 
childlike slave; then following the Reconstruction 
Period, the Negro is "vaporized" for a period of 
seventy years. He reappears beginning in the 1940's 
as a problem. While most books devote pages to 
William Lloyd Garrison, a white abolitionist, they 
devote a sentence or two to Frederick Douglass, a 
Negro abolitionist, and a man considered by many 
to be the greatest Negro American in our history. 
Our English classes are filled with classics and with 
English writers and poets of the past, while rarely 
including one Negro author or poet. Such glaring 
errors of omission must be corrected immediately. 

In summary, the paramount requirement today 
is a more thorough grasp of the three R's, plus the 
ability to think logically and the flexibility to ac- 
cept change. The teacher in the inner city school 
must demand a high standard achievement of his 
students according to one set of standards. This 
demand must begin in the first grade and be main- 
tained year after year. It is, of course, impossible 
for the high school teacher to set high standards of 
achievement if the pupil has not been taught to 
read, write or do arithmetic in the earlier grades. 

The inner city school requires excellent teachers, 
Negro and white. Excellent is the important word. 
The overwhelming need is for first rate teachers of 
any color who have the heart, skills, ability and 
motivation to reach out to Negro and Puerto Rican 
youngsters and say, "Child, you count! You're 
somebody! I like you and I want you to trust me. 
I'm going to help you go places in this big world!" 

There is an anecdote which I believe says much 
about the subject I have been discussing. 

A farmer, hunting in the woods one day, came 
across an eagle chick, recently hatched. He 
carried the eaglet back to his farm and put it 

Continued on Page 3 1 



24 



Organizing Guidance Services 
in tine Elementary Scinooi 



By DR. ROBERT POLGLAZE '35 
PROFESSOR OF EDUCATION 
NEWARK STATE COLLEGE 



It was not hapstance that the National 
Defense Education Act was revised to include the 
elementary grades of kindergarten through six in 
addition to the original provisions for grades seven 
through twelve. For more than a decade the need 
for organized guidance services in the elementary 
school has been fully recognized. The reorganization 
of the content areas due to the ever-expanding 
fields of knowledge and the rapid growth in child 
study research have helped to bring about its 
acceptance. Hitherto, the elementary school rested 
on its guidance viewpoint which stemmed from the 
development characteristics of its program. Today, 
with the recognition of education as a matter of 
national policy, the reliance upon a "viewpoint" can 
no longer be held to implement the generally ac- 
cepted objectives of the elementary school. 

Viewpoint and program. The distinction between 
viewpoint and program, as related to elementary 
guidance services, needs clarification if such serv- 
ices are to be organized on a functional basis. For 
years, it has been claimed justifiably that the guid- 
ance viewpoint prevailed within the elementary 
classroom and that such a viewpoint was a natural 
outgrowth of children's developmental character- 
istics upon which the instructional program was 
based. Such a viewpoint, of course, characterizes 
any teacher or principal who attempts to apply the 
facts inherent in the concept of individual differ- 
ences. In operation, the application of the guidance 
viewpoint resulted in the classroom teacher assuming 
a role as counselor and the building principal that of 
head counselor. This operational viewpoint func- 
tioned fairly well until the pressures and changes of 
the past ten years forced major decisions in curricu- 
lum and instruction, and in philosophy and objectives 
that could not be based on anything so broad as a 
viewpoint. That does not imply that the guidance 
viewpoint is no longer important to the elementary 
school. In fact, as organized services develop, it is 
even more important than formerly realized. 



The program of guidance services in any elemen- 
tary school obviously stems from the guidance view- 
point as applied to that particular school. This means 
much more than carrying the guidance viewpoint to 
its logical ends since no organized program of any 
kind can operate apart from its institutional frame 
of reference. Therefore, the development of a guid- 
ance program in a given school district will need to 
reflect directly the philosophy of that district and 
the objectives of any particular school within the 
district through which the philosophy is imple- 
mented. This is essential and if no stated philos- 
ophy exists and no objectives are defined, prefer- 
ably in terms of pupil behaviors, it is difficult to see 
how a guidance program can be developed. Cer- 
tainly, the evaluation of such a program is nullified 
without an accepted statement of philosophy and 
the defined objectives upon which to base it. The 
definition of the purpose base of the school is 
essential to the guidance program in terms of the 
assistance the program purports to give in meeting 
pupils needs both individually and collectively. 

The relationship between the program of guid- 
ance services and its institutional frame of reference 
can be identified also through the fact that the 
guidance viewpoint needs to characterize the total 
program. In actual operation, no program of guid- 
ance services can function effectively in a school 
whose educational policies and practices are not 
based on the guidance viewpoint. The complexity 
of this relationship needs to be recognized in de- 
veloping the guidance program. Distinction has to 
be made between the factors involved in furthering 
the guidance viewpoint and those involved in de- 
veloping program services while remembering that 
the interrelationships are mutually dependent. Such 
interrelationships reflect, in large degree, the role 
relationships of teacher, counselor, and principal. 

The teacher's guidance role. In a self-contained 
classroom as it currently functions, the classroom 
teacher has the central role within the guidance 



25 



function. Guidance in grades kindergarten through 
six is an integral part of the learning process since 
the classroom teacher needs to develop effective 
instructional patterns and curriculum adaptations in 
terms of the developmental characteristics and needs 
of pupils as individuals and as class group members. 
Hence, a guidance viewpoint is paramount in estab- 
lishing a learning environment that will enable chil- 
dren to function. The guidance viewpoint, however, 
constitutes but the general frame of reference for 
such an environment. Specific professional knowl- 
edges are necessary if that viewpoint is to be im- 
plemented. Among such general professional knowl- 
edges are: (1) the common developmental tasks of 
children, (2) the subject matter and skills that will 
help meet the needs derived from those develop- 
mental tasks, (3) the means by which young children 
learn effectively, (4) the group dynamics inherent 
in every class, and (5) the factors of individual per- 
sonality development. 

But the professional knowledges cited above as 
being basic to both good guidance and good teach- 
ing exist in degree and variations in individual and 
group responses reflect the total range of individual 
differences found in any classroom. Therefore, the 
demands made upon the classroom teacher will 
range from the very simple to the very complex. It 
is at the point where the complexity of the learning 
situation goes beyond the norm, in its broadest 
sense, of the individual classroom, that the pro- 
fessionally trained guidance counselor needs to enter 
the situation. With this entry, however, the class- 
room teacher because of her unique strategic posi- 
tion of influence, still maintains her central role in 
the guidance function. The relationship between 
the classroom teacher and the elementary school 
counselor is based on common interests but different 
responsibilities growing out of differences in pro- 
fessional training, experience, and allotted profes- 
sional time. It is a relationship whose foundation lies 
in mutual acceptance in terms of the task to be 
performed within a common frame of reference — 
the objectives of the school itself. 

The role of the guidance counselor. The role of 
the elementary school guidance counselor can be 
drawn from the several elements that characterize 
the situation: (1) the school and its program, (2) the 
pupil population, (3) the teaching staff, (4) the 
administrative organization, and (5) the supportive 
services supplied by the district and the community. 
If the operational design of the guidance function 
is to focus these elements on the individual pupil and 
on the classroom group to the end that develop- 



mental needs will be met, then the role of the ele- 
mentary school counselor emerges with four distinct 
qualities. First, it has the quality of leadership de- 
rived not from definition of status but from spe- 
cialized competencies and from ability to function in 
human relationships. This quality of leadership starts 
with children, works its way through classroom 
teachers, and includes administrative and special- 
ized central office personnel. Second, the role of 
the elementary school counselor includes the quality 
of coordination that demands insight into each of 
the related elements and the ability to extract from 
those elements the resources needed to further the 
goals of the guidance program. Third, the coun- 
selor's role demands an extensive knowledge of 
techniques and a high degree of skill in child study 
whereby immediate service can be rendered at the 
building level. Fourth, the role of the elementary 
school guidance counselor includes the quality of 
effective teaching in terms of curriculum and in- 
struction from which is drawn the learning exper- 
iences designed to meet the needs of the pupils. 

Those four qualities: leadership, coordination, 
service, and teaching summarize the role of the 
elementary school counselor with one exception that 
requires particular mention — the counselor's re- 
lationship to the parents involved. While the quali- 
ties described above exist within a professional 
structure whereby role relationships can be defined 
operationally on a mutually accepted professional 
basis, the counselor-parent relationship stems from 
a different combination of factors that reflects the 
characteristics of the individual parent and the struc- 
ture of the school community. In the elementary 
school, the guidance process cannot be separated 
from the instructional process and neither can it be 
separated from the factor of the home in light of 
the growth and development characteristics of the 
children involved. The dimensions of the elementary 
school counselor's role are extensive and demand- 
ing to the point where the conclusion might be 
drawn that it is a unique person who can fulfill the 
total role in terms of personal and professional 
values, aspirations, and training. 

The principal's role in the guidance function. 
Developments in elementary education over the past 
ten years have resulted in changes in the general 
role of the elementary school principal. This readily 
can be seen in the area of guidance which exem- 
plifies some of the factors in other areas. While it 
would be an oversimplification to state merely that 
current trends have emphasized the utilization of 
specialists, the widespread introduction of such 



26 



personnel has resulted in changes in the growing 
cooperative decision-making process that has char- 
acterized the leadership role of the building princi- 
pal. While cooperative decision-making is still an 
administrative norm, the dependency on specialists 
for assistance in meeting new and complex prob- 
lems is readily apparent. 

The principal's former role of guidance leader 
was reflected in his responsibility for developing the 
guidance viewpoint in the school to which he was 
assigned. To do that, guidance practices were es- 
tablished that reflected the professional training of 
both principal and teaching staff. The principal, in 
this situation, was the immediate source of referral. 
But developments in purpose, content, and process 
have resulted in the need for full-time professionally 
trained guidance personnel. In all but the smallest 
of schools this implies the addition of a specialist to 
the building staff rather than to the central office 
core of specialized personnel. It means that the 
building organization will have to change to reflect 
the role of the guidance counselor as an integral 
part of the professional personnel at the building 
level. This amalgamation is essential if the counselor 
is to identify with the school as an entity. Yet, the 
counselor in status is neither teaching staff nor 
administrative staff. The building principal, in this 
situation, as the responsible head of the school 
needs to utilize his position of leadership in develop- 
ing the personnel design whereby desired inter- 
action among teachers, pupils, and counselor can 
take place. This is no easy task since it must be 
remembered that the guidance counselor, who is 
neither staff nor line in status, must develop a 
unique status that presently remains undefinable 
except in terms of competence as he fulfills his 
service functions to teachers, pupils, principal, and 
parents. 

A starting point in school personnel design can 
be identified in the two characteristics of the prin- 
cipal's normal guidance responsibilities, the develop- 
ment of a guidance viewpoint and his role as the 
immediate source of referral. In one sense, he retains 
the former while releasing the latter to the guidance 
counselor. In supporting the guidance viewpoint and 
in identifying its application to program and policy, 
the principal will determine the base for the role of 
the guidance counselor whereby the counselor will 
be able to operate in terms of the elements involved. 
In return, as the counselor realizes his role attain- 
ment, support for the guidance viewpoint will be 
achieved through actual service. The interrelation- 
ships here of viewpoint and program are mutually 



supportive since guidance practices cannot exist 
without their integration within the total school 
organizational policy. To achieve this will take de- 
tailed planning on the parts of both principal and 
counselor, each working with complete understand- 
ing of the total school situation and with particular 
emphasis on the philosophy and objectives of the 
school. 

Except for the largest of elementary schools, the 
building principal has had on call or on regularly 
scheduled assignment the special teachers and spe- 
cial service personnel working out of the central 
office of the school district. The working relation- 
ships in terms of role responsibilities were distinct 
and defined. In the case of the elementary school 
counselor, the role relationship between the prin- 
cipal and the counselor will have to emerge from a 
different set of factors. The counselor will be an 
integral part of the school staff. His responsibilities 
will take him into all aspects of the school's program 
and will bring him into contact with all persons 
involved. Working relationships, then, between the 
building principal and the guidance counselor will 
have to develop in terms of the dimensions added 
to the total program of the school by the organized 
guidance services now being made available. 

Establishing a guidance program in an elemen- 
tary school. Since an organized guidance program 
adds new dimensions to the total program of the 
elementary school, examination needs to be made 
of the steps needed in establishing such a program 
in a given school. Three steps can be identified. The 
first rests on the identification of the need and 
of the function of an organized guidance program 
in a given elementary school. This identification 
starts with an analysis of the philosophy and objec- 
tives of the school in order to make certain 
that a guidance program could operate effectively 
within the defined operational goals of the school. 
The identification of pupil need and teacher need 
logically follows from the context established by the 
philosophy and objectives. And finally, the admin- 
istrative organization of the school needs close 
analysis to identify the means by which incorporation 
of an organized guidance program in the general 
structure of the school can be achieved. 

The second step is to identify those services 
commonly attributed to the guidance function and 
to apply them in terms of the analysis accomplished 
in the first step. Not all such services will receive 
the same emphasis in every school situation. But 
their acceptance must rest on their defined needs 
since those services do not exist as ends in them- 



27 



selves but as means to the ends of the guidance 
program. To do otherwise would substitute a proc- 
ess base for a purpose base for program organization. 

The third step is that of providing for means of 
continuous evaluation. Inherent in this step is rec- 
ognition that evaluation in guidance goes beyond 
quality control of process and is rooted in purpose , 
achievement of the program. This latter can be 
accomplished only in terms of the defined objec- 
tives of the guidance program which stem from the 
stated objectives of the school. But there exists 
another characteristic of the guidance function that 
needs consideration through the evaluative process. 
An effective guidance program can never be static; 
it is constantly emerging. While it draws upon the 
body of knowledge of child growth and development 
for its stability of function, the variables of modern 
living do not permit the program to become fixed. 
A guidance program has an institutional frame of 
reference and it reflects the changes that occur in 
the school which it serves. Therefore, to gauge ade- 
quately the degree of needed change, the shift in 
needed emphasis, the addition of needed services 
or the subtraction of services no longer needed, 
continuous evaluation is a necessity. 

The effectiveness of guidance in the elementary 
school will be determined by the impact of its or- 
ganized services. That impact, in turn, will be 
realized only through the relationship of the guid- 
ance program to the total school program. The 
elementary school should provide fertile ground for 
the growth of organized guidance. There is a natural 
affinity between the guidance viewpoint and the 
function of the elementary school. This new dimen- 
sion of organized guidance services should add to 
the effectiveness of the elementary school if true 
integration of such services within the organization 
of the school is achieved. 



The Liberal Aits at Montclair 

Continued from Page 5 

through the ages that they have failed to foresee 
the value of the products of the absolutely free 
mind. There ought to be on pvery college campus 
a few scholars dedicated to abstract and useless 
research. For these are the men who steal the 
Promethean fire from the heavens and transmit it 
to mankind. "There is a strong moral intuition," 
wrote Alfred North Whitehead, "that speculative 
understanding for its own sake is one of the ultimate 
elements in the good life." (The Function of Reason, 



Princeton University Press, 1929, p. 30) 

Having suggested some of Montclair's strengths 
and weaknesses in the past, let us now glance quickly 
at our present and future. The movement from a 
teacher training to a multi-purpose program has 
come to Montclair, not as an occasion for panic or 
alarm, but as an opportunity for another periodic 
self-evaluation. Well in advance of the creation of 
the Board of Higher Education, Dean Allan More- 
head had appointed a Resource Committee for the 
Liberal Arts whose task it was to insure that when 
liberal arts students entered the College they would 
find it ready. Programs in eight major areas were 
investigated and approved by the Resource Com- 
mittee, chaired by Professor Clifford. All of these 
majors were in our traditional disciplines. Last fall 
a German major was added; and next September 
Earth Science, Physics, and Psychology majors will 
be available to liberal arts students. 

Will liberal arts students get as good an educa- 
tion at Montclair as at a traditional liberal arts 
institution? In my mind, they will. We cannot at 
present match some of the scholars at the older 
colleges, but they cannot match the cultural ferment 
on this campus. It is true that, unless considerable 
financial support is forthcoming, Montclair will con- 
tinue to suffer from the old ailments. They will 
impede our progress and diminish the value of our 
offerings. Yet there are reasons for optimism. One 
is that, at this crossroads in the history of the 
College, we have Dr. Thomas H. Richardson as our 
President. Dr. Richardson is not only conversant with 
Montclair's past, but he sees .the greater need for a 
multi-purpose curriculum in New Jersey today. By 
infusing democratic procedures into nearly every 
phase of college life, Dr. Richardson has generated 
in faculty, administration, and students an excel- 
lent working morale and a concerted dedication to 
the present goals of Montclair State College. A 
further ground for optimism is the quality of our 
local Board of Trustees. As long as these distin- 
guished New Jersey citizens guide and support the 
destinies of the College, we can look forward to a 
future fully commensurate with our unforgettable 
past. 



28 



Innovation in Education 
The Nova Schools 



DR. FRANK P. MERLO 

ASSOCIATE PROFESSOR OF EDUCATION 

MONTCLAIR STATE COLLEGE 




!• 



Students at Nova High School operate television equipment. Programs can be video taped and programmed to each classroom. 



FORT LAUDERDALE, FLORIDA 

The South Florida Education Center is a unique 
education complex created jointly by the Broward 
County Board of Public Instruction and a group of 
business and professional people who reside in the 
county. It is planned to consist ultimately of a cluster 
of elementary schools, a high school, a junior col- 
lege, and a university dedicated to advanced tech- 
nological instruction. The long-range goal of the 
center is to provide all children an opportunity to 
receive a superior education from kindergarten 
through the doctorate on the same campus. 

The NOVA (inNOVAtion) schools which form 
the education center already consist of two ele- 



mentary schools (K-6), Nova High School, and Brow- 
ard Junior College. The Nova University phase of 
the complex has engaged part of its staff and was 
scheduled to open in early 1968. 

The Nova schools select students for admission 
from all sections of Broward County. Criteria for 
admission are based on a willingness to learn. Since 
there is no free bus transportation, parents either 
bring their children to the campus or pay for trans- 
portation services. The student population consists 
of a cross-section of the entire county in terms of 
ability, age in grade, socio-economic background, 
and prior school experience. 

Nova High School, a vital part of the complex, 
was organized in 1961 and has a student body of 
2,000. The school is designed in the campus style 



29 



with individual buildings devoted to language arts, 
science, mathematics, and technical science, clus- 
tered around a multi-purpose patio area. Peripheral 
buildings house the administrative offices and phys- 
ical education facilities. 

The school schedule uses a 20-minute module, 
based on an eight-hour, five-day week in a 200-day . 
school year. Standard teacher-pupil ratio formulas 
are not used because of team teaching, seminars, 
and individual conference-tutoring sessions. SOUST 
(scheduling of unscheduled time) is used for in- 
dividual work-study and teacher conference-tutor- 
ing. All students' schedules are individually tailored 
and student progress is reported using a 1-9 marking 
system. Like all schools within the Nova complex, 
the high school attempts to judge progress in terms 
of the individual, rather than by a set norm. 

Instruction is based on learning activity pack- 
ages, and self-study without dependence on instruc- 
tional personnel is encouraged. The central library 
concept has been replaced by smaller resource cen- 
ters located according to area of study (e.g. science, 
humanities, mathematics). All resource centers are 
connected by dial systems for television or audio 
retrieval from the central control center. Every cen- 
ter contains carrels designed for study, typing, and 
audio or television reception. An information re- 
trieval system also is being planned for tie-in to a 
central computer. Live or taped television programs 
and activities are available to all instructional and 
study areas from the central control center. 

Opening exercises are broadcast via the closed 
circuit system. The school does not contain an audi- 
torium since "assembly-type" programs are carried 
via the television system to most areas of the school. 

All instructional materials are accounted for 
through an active inventory system, therefore, they 
are available to all instructional personnel upon re- 
quest. All science supplies and equipment are man- 
aged by a storekeeper employed for this purpose. 
He is responsible for making up all experiment pack- 
ages to be used within the science laboratories which 
have been designed for multi-purpose functions. 

The Nova elementary schools are organized 
along the same basis as the high school. However, 
most instruction is based within a given core of 
activities. Most learning activities are exploratory 
and spiral in content and approach. Although spe- 
cific grade levels are in existence, a non-graded 
approach to learning to insure the individual's learn- 
ing continuum is the basic philosophy of the pro- 
gram. 



Adapting the Nova Experience 

One of the greatest problems faced by the Nova 
schools was to orient instructional personnel to the 
acceptance and use of new approaches to learning. 
Special orientation classes were held so that teachers 
could be retrained to use such techniques as team 
teaching, small group instruction, individual con- 
ference-tutoring, independent study, and group 
planning activities. 

New media such as television, pre-packaged 
programs, and tape recordings had to be introduced 
in such a manner that teachers would be able to use 
them as effectively and unhesitatingly as a textbook 
in supplementing classroom instruction. Personnel 
were encouraged to evaluate, update, or discard 
traditional approaches to teaching, so that the goals 
sought by the Nova schools could be achieved. 

Throughout the United States, teachers have 
found it difficult to change their approaches to 
teaching. Many are using classroom methods and 
techniques geared to students of past generations. 
Schools which have been primarily college-oriented 
now have students whose expectations and com- 
petencies fall below past goals. Yet teachers con- 
tinue teaching in the same manner and expect their 
students to achieve unrealistic goals. Many have 
become cynical and disenchanted and have taken 
to condemning the general student body as incom- 
petent because of their own inability to relate to 
the students. These conditions are particularly 
noticeable in urban schools where the area has 
undergone marked social and economic change. 

Education in the United States is undergoing 
a vast change. Because of the need for universal 
education for everyone, schools must change their 
traditional approaches to learning. Research has 
indicated that much of the new media, modern 
curricula approaches and new techniques for in- 
dividualizing instruction have some merit. Teachers 
owe it to themselves and to their students to become 
familiar with these new approaches to learning. 
School districts must provide the time and resources 
so that teachers can become informed and expert 
in the new concepts of teaching. 

Excellence in teaching requires a knowledge of 
subject matter and a knowledge of the student and 
how he learns. Some teachers must be retrained so 
that they have a thorough understanding of the 
"new" student. They must understand what forces 
repress him. They must know how to empathize 
with him. In essence, they must know what makes 
him "tick". A coupling of knowledge about the 



30 



"new" student and what techniques, media, and 
methods will make him learn is desperately needed 
by many teachers. 

It appears that the Nova schools are fully utiliz- 
ing the new media and have adopted new concepts 
of instruction. Expensive equipment and facilities 
are being used because the teachers want to and 
know how to use them. School districts can build 
modern facilities, provide expensive equipment and 
institute new programs, but all of these will receive 
little use or it will be a waste of much-needed finan- 
cial resources unless teachers want to use them and 
know how to use them effectively. 

The most significant aspect of the Nova schools 
is not its outstanding facilities, new media, or sophis- 
ticated progams. Nor is it its unique concept of 
offering education from kindergarten through the 
doctorate. Nova's "magic" has been its ability to 
influence its teachers to break tradition and use new 
approaches and techniques with all their related 
hardware for the benefit of themselves and their 
students. 

(Adapted from a series appearing in School Board 
Notes, the publication of the New Jersey State 
Federation of District Boards of Education.) 



The Role of the Inner-City School 

Continued from Page 24 

in with the barnyard fowl. Here it stayed for a 
year and grew alongside the chickens and 
geese. One day a naturalist saw the eagle 
among the other fowl and berated the farmer 
for raising the eagle with chickens. The farmer 
countered that the eagle had been raised in 
the barnyard and is to all intents and purposes 
a barnyard fowl and happy to be one. 

The naturalist offered to prove that the farmer 
was wrong. He spent several hours coaxing the 
eagle to fly. However, the eagle reacted as a 
chicken, hopping to the ground and scratching 
for food. Finally, the naturalist took the eagle 
to the top of a mountain. Holding the bird high 
over the valley below he spoke to it. "Eagle you 
are an eagle and you will always be one. You 
were born to soar in the skies, not to scratch 
in the dust. Lift your wings and fly!" With this, 
he dropped the eagle. At first the bird 
dropped, but then its powerful wings began to 
beat and he flew off into the horizon, never 
to return again. It was an eagle, though it had 
been raised as a chicken. 

As teachers we must call on all children to 
stretch their minds, lift their sights and fly. 




Language Arts Resource Center features an information retrieval 
system. Students are shown using the microfilm viewer. 




Foreign language instruction is centered in a well-equipped 
language laboratory. 



Industrial Arts Progresses 
in a Clianging Society 



By DR. ARTHUR W. EARL 

CHAIRMAN OF INDUSTRIAL EDUCATION AND 

TECHNOLOGY DEPARTMENT 



The department of Industrial Education and 
Technology, previously known as the department of 
Industrial Arts, officially changed its name to per- 
mit the addition of new curriculum offerings. The 
department of Industrial Education and Technology 
has already increased its present offerings beyond 
Industrial Arts to include Cooperative Industrial 
Education and Vocational Industrial Teacher Edu- 
cation. The Industrial Arts major prepares for 
teacher training in grades K through 12. The areas 
of Industrial Arts preparation include Drafting, 
Graphic Arts, Wood, Industrial Crafts, Metal, Power, 
and Electricity. The approach has been to prepare 
students in breadth in all of these areas. The Indus- 
trial Arts facility for this type of preparation has 
been a large comprehensive general shop. The Co- 
operative Industrial Education Coordinator's Pro- 
gram offers Industrial Arts teachers, at the graduate 
level, the opportunity to become certified as Co- 
ordinators of Cooperative Industrial Education Pro- 
grams. The Coordinator will supervise Industrial 
Education Programs in the public schools where 
students will devote part of their school day to for- 
mal education and the other part of the school day 
to working in industry. The Vocational Industrial 
Teacher Program offers teachers in the vocational 
schools of New Jersey the opportunity to obtain cer- 
tification and a degree in Vocational Education. 

To efficiently administer and clearly depict the 
future aims and offerings that are presently under 
consideration by the department of Industrial Edu- 
cation and Technology, it is recommended that the 
existing and proposed programs be organized under 
a School of Arts and Sciences. The School of Arts 
and Sciences would administer the following: 

1. The teacher Education Program of Industrial 
Arts. 

2. The Cooperative Industrial Education Pro- 
gram. 

3. The Vocational Industrial Teacher Education 
Program. 

4. The Industrial Technology Program. 

5. A Pre-Engineering Program. 



6. A Technical Resource Center. 

7. Related Graduate Programs. 

The content curriculum and methodology of the 
present Industrial Arts Program will be revised. The 
new curriculum revision and building program will 
follow the national pattern of preparing Industrial 
Arts teachers in areas of specialization: Design, 
Drafting, Graphic Arts, Industrial Crafts, Wood, 
Metal, Electronics and Power. The Industrial Arts 
major will be provided the opportunity to select two 
of these areas of special interest for depth study. 

The Industrial Technology Program is based 
upon research which indicates that America's tech- 
nological advancement will continue to accelerate 
at a rapid pace. New Jersey being one of the lead- 
ing industrial states, particularly in such areas as 
Research, Ceramics, Electronics, Graphics Com- 
munications, Metals, Plastics, needs trained young 
men and women for all levels of Industrial Tech- 
nology. Typical of existing needs are Technical 
Sales, and Management Positions, dealing with both 
domestic and foreign industry; including supportive 
personnel necessary to work between the indispen- 
sible theoretical engineer and production employees. 

To meet these needs, the department of Indus- 
trial Education and Technology wishes to initiate a 
program which will broaden the major options of- 
fered to students. The new major options will be 
implemented with a compatable curriculum and 
building program that will technically compliment 
each other. The new curriculum, which reflects in- 
dustries' needs, will provide students with a back- 
ground of technical knowledge. The laboratory ap- 
plication of the technical knowledge will be limited 
in scope: to the time required for a thorough ex- 
posure to the industrial materials and processes 
studied. The development of trade skills is not 
considered a part of the Industrial Technology Pro- 
gram. The new building complex will start with a 
six story air conditioned building, which will reflect 
the technologies of industry through the media of 
contemporary design, supplies, materials and equip- 
ment. There is no intent to design a trade training 
building. 



32 




The academic requirements for admission to the 
proposed Industrial Technology Program consists of 
16 High School Carnegie Units. It is suggested, how- 
ever, that additional high school Mathematics and 
Science courses be taken. It is also possible in place 
of the foreign language requirement to substitute 
other major free electives. 

The requirements for the Industrial Technology 
major at the college, are determined by the estab- 
lished curriculum of the college. The exception is 
a proposed increase in mathematics and science 
requirements from 6 to 1 2 semester hours, instead 
of the college foreign language requirement. The 
flexibility of the Industrial Technology option ac- 
counts for its versatility in meeting the needs of 
students, with various backgrounds, in their selec- 
tion of proposed professional careers. The depart- 
ment of Industrial Education and Technology plans 
to initiate the new Industrial Technology program, 
to prepare young men for industry, with specializa- 
tion in the areas of Drafting Technology, Polymier 
Sciences, and Electronics. 

The required courses for the Industrial Tech- 
nology major, within the department, would include: 
Introduction to American Industry, Industrial De- 
sign, Industrial Materials, Research and Develop- 
ment, Manufacturing Processes, Computer Funda- 
mentals, Graphic Communications, and Industrial 
Field Studies Visits. Two required courses outside 
of the department will be Technical Writing and 
Personnel Management. The free electives in the 
department of Education and Technology that will 
be offered within the department include: One of 
the Industrial Technology Options, Industrial Safety, 
Technical Drafting, Numerical Control Applications, 
Field Work in Industries, and Independent Study. 
Technology electives required outside of the depart- 
ment will include: Accounting, Business Law, Eco- 
nomics, Industrial Psychology, and Marketing. Ap- 



proximately 42 to 54 semester hours of free elec- 
tives outside of the department of Industrial Edu- 
cation and Technology will be available to these 
majors. This will provide the Industrial Technology 
major with the same flexibility in course selection 
which is apparent in any Liberal Arts curriculum. 
Either breadth or a high degree of specialization may 
be obtained according to the individuals needs and 
career choice. 

The Pre-Engineering Program, as a future pro- 
posal, will offer the first two years of required 
courses similar to those offered in accredited New 
Jersey engineering colleges. The courses planned at 
Montclair State College parallel courses offered at 
New Jersey engineering colleges, therefore, a two 
year pre-engineering program could be initiated at 
Montclair State College with little difficulty. 

A Technical Resource Center, as a future pro- 
posal, for the department of Industrial Education 
and Technology is planned as a means of more fully 
utilizing the new facilities essential for the success- 
ful implementation of Industrial Technology. The 
recommendation of a Technical Resource Center, 
to provide educational service to the northern part 
of the state of New Jersey, is an important aspect 
of the total Industrial Technology concept. 

The Related Graduate Programs, proposed for 
the department of Industrial Education and Tech- 
nology, are planned to prepare teaching and non- 
teaching industrially oriented graduate students to 
cope effectively with our ever changing technical 
society. 

The programs of Industrial Arts, Cooperative 
Industrial Education, Vocational Industrial Teacher 
Education, Industrial Technology, Pre-Engineering, 
Technical Research Center, and Related Graduate 
Programs are all compatable and logical in the thor- 
ough consideration of technology at Montclair State 
College. 



33 



The Urban Imperative 

The President's Message: 

By DR. THOMAS H. RICHARDSON 
PRESIDENT 

You may know that your college has been deeply involved in trying to 
do its share in solving the problems caused by inner city segregation with the 
resultant economic privation and educational ineffectiveness. The recent re- 
ports of the Governor's and the President's Commissions added much empha- 
sis to the seriousness of these problems, but Montclair's efforts predate these 
reports by several years. 

Recognizing the severe environmental handicaps under which the mass 
of American Negroes live, Montclair State College has made a deliberate effort 
for many years to compensate in its approach to admissions under these un- 
fortunate conditions. Deliberate efforts to counteract college de facto segre- 
gation, toward which we seem to be evolving, has been accomplished legally 
and without violating admissions standards to which we were committed. Our 
Director of Admissions journeyed out into the inner city areas in a drastic 
effort to try to maintain a reasonable racial balance in our student body. A 
year and a half ago a Negro Assistant Director of Admissions took over the 
specific task of trying to compensate for the larger environmental conditions 
of discrimination in which Negroes generally approach college admissions. 

Montclair State College also developed one of the first Upward Bound 
programs in the State of New Jersey. In cooperation with St. Peter's College 
and Jersey City State College, we brought groups of fifty to seventy-five peo- 
ple from the inner city areas of Jersey City to live and study on our campus. 
As you know, the goal here is to encourage youngsters with college potential 
by helping them build skills and attitudes which will cause them to gain ad- 
mission and to succeed in college. The program has been highly successful 
and the director. Dr. John Redd, has received many commendations. 

Perhaps the most uniquely Montclair effort in helping an inner city 
youngster is a program called SPURT. A Special Program for Urban Teachers 
was initiated and developed here at Montclair. What is SPURT? I quote from 
a brochure which we have prepared describing this endeavor. 

"SPURT is a program developed to provide Montclair State 
College students with specialized training and experiences 
leading to greater understanding of and skill in working with 
the urban disadvantaged. The program is built around a com- 
bination of specially oriented course work plus field work 
experiences, and involves close cooperation between the col- 
lege staff and representatives of public schools and social 
agencies. 

The first group of twenty-five sophomore volunteers began 
the program in the spring of 1967. Additional groups of soph- 
omores will enter the program at the beginning of the second 
semester of their sophomore year. The first two groups of 
students in SPURT are doing their field work in Paterson. 
Subsequent groups may be assigned to other urban com- 
munities. Paterson was selected because of the interest and 
cooperation of both school administration personnel and 
social agency representatives." 
We feel that SPURT has been successful in achieving its objectives of 
preparing a better type of new teacher for urban disadvantaged youngsters. 

34 



We think that the college has gained much from this program in faculty and 
staff understanding of the problems of inner city and in our communication 
with the professional educators who are now working with urban problems. 

There is still one other program in which your college is involved and it 
is called TRY (Talent Research for Youth). Forty disadvantaged students will 
be coming to our college in September. These youngsters will require special 
remedial courses and much volunteer work will be needed by faculty and 
students. Although experimental, for we know we have much to learn, a sin- 
cere effort will be made to help these inner city youngsters compensate for 
their environmental-educational handicaps. We will try, for example, to have 
a professor, as a special project take on and counsel each one of these stu- 
dents. Of course this will take much time, patience and dedication but we are 
confident that it is worth the effort and that we have a fighting chance to 
succeed. 

Are we proud of what we are doing in the area of helping the inner city 
youngster rise above his handicaps? No! We are not proud. It is true that 
compared to the rest of society and compared to other colleges, Montclair 
State College has nothing to apologize for. The efforts which we are making 
are much greater and they have occurred over a much longer period of time 
than most people appreciate. I do think that it is desirable for the alumni and 
the people of New Jersey to recognize that our college is making these efforts, 
but compared to the magnitude of the problem and considering the ugliness 
of inner city blot on the conscience of America we are doing very little. 

Our society in this year of 1968 finds itself with a major illness and many 
of our leaders fear that the illness may be malignant. Montclair State College 
must do more to apply itself to the solution of these problems with all of their 
racial and social aspects. They need much work by all institutions in our 
society. 

We look to the faculty and the alumni to support the college in its effort 
to make a real contribution in this area of great national need. We look for 
the solution to the problem to the young people in our college. We look to the 
much criticized youth of America to bring the values and ideals to the solution 
of the inner city dilemma for I fear that the older generation in this respect 
has failed. 

In conclusion I should say that I realize our college cannot be all things 
to all people. We must not neglect our primary academic mission and we will 
not neglect it. In addition, however, we have taken on a partial solution to 
the problem of the inner city — please support us. 



^^Ifel- 



^^ 



Mi-' 



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MONTCLAIR STATE COLLEGE / SPRING 1969 



V'T^.- > 






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If Only- 



F#RUM 

MONTCLAIR STATE COLLEGE / SPRING 1969 



MONTCLAIR STATE COLLEGE 

ALUMNI ASSOCIATION 

Upper Montclair, New Jersey 



MR. MARVIN SHLOFMITZ 


Editor-in-Chief 


MRS. HELEN RENDALL 


. Associate Editor 


MR. MORRIS McGEE 


. . . Associate Editor 



Fiscal Autonomy Is a Must, by Dr. Morris McGee 3 

Who's in Charge at Montclair State College? 
by Dr. W. Lincoln Hawkins 5 

Sketches of Pariah and Parvenu: Six Years in America, 
by Dr. Gideon-Cyrus Mutiso 7 

A Challenge for Living, by Reverend Thomas E. Davis 10 

Intellectual Directions at Montclair, 
by Dr. Harold C. Bohn 12 

How Far to Professionalism? by George Harriston 16 

Every Poem Is an Epitaph, by Michael F. Grieco 18 

The Ballad of a Leaf, by Michael F. Grieco 18 

Undergraduate Degree Program Offered in the 
Extension Division, by Marshall A. Butler 19 

The Classical Dance of India, by Shahia Anand 20 

Montclair — Chico State Exchange Proves Rewarding, 
by Dr. George G. King 22 

Try Program Responds To Urban Imperative, 
by Dr. George Bernstein 25 

Must It Be Physical Education vs. Athletics, 
by Dr. Richard W. Tews 30 

Education and Social Mobility in West Germany, 
by Dr. Ingeborg Assmann 33 



If only urban teachers would give a damn instead 
of feeling damned ... If only they wouldn't lose 
their cool when confronted with deliberate disobedi- 
ence, disrespect and assault ... If only city teachers 
would displace bad humor and dismay with good 
humor and hope ... If only the faculty would ex- 
perience the joy of tackling corridor duty, cafeteria 
duty and study halls ... If only they would respond 
with better spirits when they check the bathrooms, 
break-up pot parties and get themselves manhandled 
by intruders. 

If only the curriculum were made more rele- 
vant ... If breakfast could be served to students ... 1 
If there were only a student lounge where smoking 
was permitted ... If only the S.D.S. were running 
the show ... If there were only more money . . . 
If there were more imaginative field trips ... If 
only the city schools were media-centered ... If 
only teachers wouldn't age beyond thirty ... If 
only more teachers would swing a little . . . learn a 
little jive talk ... If the teachers would only get 
with it and wear shorter skirts and turtle necks . . . 
If there were only more commission instead of sub- 
mission ... If they would only turn all the schools 
into street academies ... If only there were more 
community involvement and decentralization . . . 
If there could only be more student decision-mak- 
ing . . . Why not? 

If only the teachers would not impose middle 
class values and abandon their expectations ... If 
only there were more urban conferences instead of 
suburban conferences. 

And, if only the "authorities" who aren't really 
making the scene knew where it's really at! 

For, turning students on, defies easy, patent 
formulas. 

My Cup Runneth Over 

The editor of the Forum has just about put this 
magazine to bed as well as himself in a state of total 
collapse! Every word and line has been checked and 
rechecked, and yet, he can rest assured that the mis- 
takes will haunt him all the days of his life. 

Stories have been cut and pictures have been 
cropped in an attempt to fill a restricted number of 
pages. Irate authors are threatening to gun down 
the editor on sight. For when an author's story is 
cut, his ego bleeds! 

So, how about helping a frustrated, beleaguered 
editor out of his anguish? Contribute to the Alumni 
Fund. Just once, the editor would like to do his own 
thing . . . damn the budget . . . print those big, 
splashy color photos ... let the prose run its natural 
course . . . pages and more pages . . . wouldn't it 
be loverly! 



Fisca 



I Autonomy i 
aM 



DR. MORR 
MONTCLAIR 

Q. Dr. Richardson, now that the Board of 
Trustees has served Montclair State College for 
over a year can you tell the Alumni someth