All Roads revisited

Complimentary "Oberlin College" folders in hand, the prospies descended on campus for All Roads Lead to Oberlin last week . Tour guides worked overtime, extolling the virtues of Philips gym, talking about the underground railroad and reminding parents about Oberlin's progressive history, all while walking backwards.

How many of us can remember the anticipatory lifts in our stomachs as we rolled into Oberlin two, three, four, even five years ago as prospective Obies? What about trying to find our way from Dascomb to Severance and having to stop once or twice in Wilder Bowl to confirm that we were headed in the right direction? Or being interviewed by students in suits, or meeting professors that symbolize what you may decide to spend the rest of our lives doing? Most of us can remember feeling at least a little hopefully optimistic apprehension when we signed our forms and sent in our $150 deposit, telling some nameless administrator that we were willing to consummate the relationship that had been -- for many of us -- built on pretty viewbooks, liberal slogans and a few second-hand reports.

What about the kid you thought you were when Mom dropped you off in front of your dorm before first-year orientation or when you got out of the bus, plane or train with your map of Oberlin in hand? Do you ever miss that younger, fresher version of you? What about those first few weeks of orientation? Sex at seven, RC-driven trips to the Arb? All of those seem so far now. But, sometimes, all it takes is driving back into Oberlin, the same way you came in as a first-year or prospie, to rekindle all those feelings and reacquaint you with the pre-Oberlin rendition of who you are now.

We change each other. Hopefully, we challenge each other and ensure that change is toward greater understanding of ourselves and others. For good or bad, none of us are the same people we were when we stepped on campus for the first time. Oberlin -- "peculiar in that which is good," as the sampler that used to hang in the window of Gibson's read -- and the students, janitors, professors, administrators, townspeople, coaches and others that choose to make this small town in Ohio an extended pit-stop of various durations, is a catalyst for growth. We can do so many things here -- the huge amount of student-run productions this semester attests this. Do we take advantage of these truly unique opportunities often enough?

GF has the power

Last semester, "The Coalition" organized and created a three point plan. The leadership of this Coalition didn't want their plan presented to the administration or the trustees first. To implement change, the Coalition had to have their needs heard by the general faculty. Why? Oberlin's General Faculty has final approval on every relevant decision made, from tenure, to charters and department development. If the GF wanted Asian-American Studies, for example, we could have the beginnings of a department tomorrow.

But what happens when that governing powerful body is in disarray, deteriorating and not of interest to faculty anymore? That seems to be the plight of the GF right now. Professor Norm Care has seen GF at its strongest and is trying to rekindle the fire that was once at GF's base. Recollecting days of yore, Care said, "Without strong governance, Oberlin will, I believe become more ordinary than we want it to be." Care offered five suggestions for revitalizing faculty governance, including socializing new faculty members, creating better instruments of institutional memory and treating faculty members with respect.

If just half the members of the GF had a vested interest in bettering faculty governance, all would be fine. However, all is not fine. Staff and students need more than Norm Care and a few other ol' school representatives running with the gauntlet of governance. But how can the general faculty take our concerns seriously if they aren't interested in governing?

The most disheartening aspect of all this is that the GF has so much potential. If any group should wield so much power, it should be faculty. They have a closer relationship to the institution and a better understanding of what students want and need than trustees. The college's future is safer in the hands of scholars than professional bureaucrats.

But we need active teachers. If teachers are not going to take that responsibility, it's time to reconsider the structure of faculty governance on this campus. The talks by Dye and Care are tiny steps towards making the process better, but they insure nothing. If the general faculty does not want the power and responsibility they've been garnished, that power and responsibility must be taken away and other options must be explored.