Harvey reflects on mis-characterization
Need-sensitive benefits
Reflections of an eternally young-at-heart Oberlin graduate
High school built on toxic waste site
Thanks from Hot Meals
To the Editors:
Hi. I am college junior Jeff Harvey. I was quoted in last week's Perspectives as saying, "I want to thank Mrs. Love, one of the Stevenson managers, for taking care of the students' needs, and getting us orange juice in the mornings."
With all due respect to Mrs. Love, and believe me, my respect for the hard work of the entire CDS staff is considerable, I never made the above statements. In fact, I was never even contacted for the piece in question. So how did this egregious error find its way into your not entirely unrespectable periodical? It was the diabolical work of third year Daniel Schwartz, Esquire.
You see, Mr. Schwartz was approached by an eager, young reporter from your not altogether contempt worthy journal, and presented with the poignant question, "How has understaffing at CDS and the mailroom affected your life?"
In response, Mr. Schwartz rubbed contemplatively on his lightly goateed chin, fondled his pitch fork pensively, fed a Tropical Skittle to one of the harem of first-years with which he is always surrounded, and responded with a chilling laugh, "I want to thank Mrs. Love, one of the Stevenson managers, for taking care of the students' needs and getting us orange juice in the morning." Your reporter, no doubt unnerved, continued on bravely.
"And your name?" she asked.
"College third-year Jeff Harvey," Mr. Schwartz responded, his eyes a-flicker with pure malice.
But Mr. Schwartz's hunger for mayhem, his lust for confusion predates this particular instance of treachery. You see, I, Jeff Harvey, College junior, have known Mr. Schwartz for quite a while. One day, while I was a happy young scholar in the sixth of grades, a visitor came to our warm, happy school. I went to a Montessori School, a place of walks in the woods, picnics in the park, and the dropping of water-filled prophylactics. As is to be expected from such a place, we had a class room pet, a gerbil named "Gay Indian Chief," after our teacher's favorite member of the Disco band, "The Village People." Well anyway, our visitor entered quietly one stormy winter morning, clad entirely in black, except for his pants, shirt, shoes, belt, jacket and socks. This dark figure walked silently toward Gay Indian Chief's cage, and with a look in his eye that I will never forget, lifted him out of the residence that we once thought so secure, and placed him in the microwave, just to watch him pop. That was the first and only time I ever saw a visitor to a school placed on in-house detention for the day.
The visitor was not Mr. Schwartz. I did not meet Mr. Schwartz until coming to Oberlin, seeing as he purportedly grew up in St.Louis (if such a place exists), and some would argue that I have yet to grow up. But I have no doubts that placed in a similar situation, the diabolical heart of Daniel Schwartz would be capable of the same heinous acts. Well, maybe not the part about the gerbil, but I can definitely see him wearing that outfit.
In closing, I would like to say that really, I just wanted to get Daniel Schwartz's name in your not-completely-paper-wasting-publication as retribution for his misrepresentation of me. And cause it will make for damn funny reading over Friday night dinner. I would like to encourage any and all of your other readers to write letters about Daniel Schwartz!
P.S. Names may have been changed to protect innocent gerbils, and to get a cheap laugh at the expense of The Village People.
To the Editors:
I am writing to thank Oberlin College for implementing need-sensitive admissions. Last year I was quite distraught at the thought of Oberlin admitting students based even partially upon their ability to pay, but now I am convinced that it was the right thing to do. I wish a sincere "Thank you" to the OC administration for providing the student body with such benefits as accrue from need-sensitive admissions.
For example, with all these need-sensitive freshpeople running around, many, many of who don't need employment, CDS is seriously understaffed, the wonderful result being that I, along with all the other need-blind, work study students, got a considerable raise of $0.25 per hour! (Right, that raise also benefited the relatively few low-income/work study first-years currently working in CDS.)
Thank you, Nancy, Board of Trustees, Deans, etc. How on earth did you foresee that I wouldn't be able to afford to purchase all of my books this semester, and that I would need all the extra monies I could scrape up? I thank your foresight and ingenious planning.
It is also a real treat to be in the company of such a high number of extremely privileged, well-traveled, mid-to-upper class first-years. Through their travels abroad to various cultures, they are able to educate us about what it is like to experience other, non-Western cultures. It is so exciting that they are able to come to Oberlin and share their mindfulness and cultural attunements with people. As an Asian American who has never traveled to Asia, even though I was born there, I must say that it is truly wonderful that many first-years have had the opportunity to go there.
Lastly, I appreciate the hardship you saved seriously low-income prospective students. By admitting only those students who could afford to pay, along with those few to whom you felt you could afford to give a "full ride," you have undoubtedly saved many a low-income student from digging a debt-ridden hole for themselves in the form of Stafford and Perkins loans. Gosh, I really wish you hadn't admitted me, because it will take me forever to pay off my loans. I am sure the non-admitted low-income students remain, as do I, eternally pleased with your fiscal foresight. Doing us these favors certainly was not necessary to win our affections, but damn, you've sure won mine.
To the Editors:
I managed to stay in school until I was 28 year old. I might have stayed longer, but I couldn't think of anything else to study and, besides, the student loans were starting to pile up. Despite being out of school for 17 years now, I still feel the tug of the academic calendar and the desire to go shopping for school supplies and new clothes when September rolls around. I usually manage to squeeze in one or two week-long seminars each year and an invitation to give a lecture somewhere along the way so I can pretend to be close to my college days. But sometime soon I really should think about growing up.
Now I'm 45. I have gray hair. I have a mortgage. I have a teenaged daughter who wants to know when I'm going to have my mid-life crisis and change careers or buy a sports car, like the mothers of many of her friends. But I'm not ready for a mid-life crisis since I haven't finished growing up yet!
In the years since my graduation in 1976, I have attended three different universities, completed two graduate degrees, held nine positions with four different companies, lived in four states and England. If you ran into me on the street, you would probably conclude that I am grown up, maybe even over-the-hill, and too corporate looking to be an Oberlin graduate. So why is it that I don't feel grown up?
It could be that I still have so much to learn. One of the differentiating characteristics often cited about Oberlin is that you go there to learn how to learn. I would say that you also emerge recognizing how little you really know. This is an important insight to the Oberlin experience. When I first started graduate school, I found myself to be far better equipped than many of my peers because I had already had the opportunity to carry out independent laboratory research. I knew how to ask questions and how to design experiments. Later when I was in a position to be hiring new graduates to work in labs, I was often disappointed at their inability to work independently, not to mention their inability to express themselves clearly in writing. Today I am working in strategic planning and find that managers' anxiety over being found to be lacking in knowledge often subverts their drive to learn and come to understand their business and the critical societal, political and technical issues we face.
It turns out that facing the world with an openness to continuous learning gives you a tremendous advantage, particularly if you can sustain that approach for decades after your formal education ends. Even though I work in an industry that depends on scientific innovation for success, we are often dragged down by the routines that have become entrenched over time. Being willing to ask questions, to challenge, to help the organization learn provides many opportunities for individual growth and the enjoyment of learning as well as the chance to move the organization forward with the insight achieved by an open and questioning approach.
Maybe I don't look like an Oberlin student anymore, but the approach to learning I took with me when I left has stood me in good stead throughout my years in graduate school and beyond. As I evaluate my professional career and new opportunities that may come my way, I have four requirements: to be learning, to be making a contribution, to be working with people I respect and to be having fun.
It's unlikely that I'll be returning to the student life anytime soon, but on reflection, I seem to have managed to sustain the important part of that experience for quite some time!
To the Editors:
Toxic pollution is one of the most hazardous environmental problems we face today. Not only do toxic chemicals such as mercury, lead and dioxins damage the environment, but they also affect public health. They are associated with illnesses such as breast cancer, prostate cancer and reproductive disorders such as birth defects and low sperm count. Toxic pollution is also an environmental justice issue because many of our incinerators, landfills and toxic waste dumps, which are sources of our toxic pollution problems, are strategically built in low-income, minority communities.
The situation in Marion, Ohio is one such example. River Valley School was built on a military waste dump, where 41 of the 78 acres of the school property contained toxic contaminants and carcinogens, with some contaminants hundreds of times the acceptable amounts. As for the health consequences, the leukemia rates of the graduates and students of River Valley School have been found to be three times higher than would be expected, according to the Ohio Department of Health.
So far, both the Army Corps of Engineers and the Ohio EPA have not given serious consideration to the requests of the community. Assessments have been not only half-hearted, but also distorted due to their unfair and inaccurate methods and interpretations. Similarly, Governor Taft has been unresponsive, if not apathetic, to the concerns of his constituents. He has merely suggested a few sympathetic words, but has taken no action.
The students continue to attend River Valley School and are still being exposed to the toxic chemicals on which their school stands. Currently, there are no prospects of relocation or clean-up.
We must demand a clean-up of the area, which entails digging and hauling of the contaminated soils. Additional testing will be needed as well, for a more accurate depiction of the situation in River Valley School. And ultimately, the school must be relocated to ensure the safety of the children.
We must convey the seriousness and urgency of the Marion situation to Governor Taft. As our representative, it is his responsibility to protect the safety and health of the citizens of Ohio. We urge you to contact Governor Taft regarding this issue.
To the Editors,
We of the Oberlin Weekday Hot Meals Program would like to thank the College community for two important contributions to the Hot Meals Program. For one, we would like to thank the persons (among them Marnie, Trevor, Rosemarie) who helped late last semester with the cleaning of the Hot Meals kitchen through OPIRG's Oberlin-Hunger Clean-Up Day efforts. Also, thanks to the many students who turned their end-of-the-semester Flex-dollars into food items which were given to Hot Meals and to the food shelf at Oberlin Community Services.
Such on-going support by the community is vital and very much appreciated by our Board and by the many who are served by the Hot Meals Program.
Copyright © 1999, The Oberlin Review.
Volume 128, Number 5, October 1, 1999
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