I spoke with Dean Forman during Homecoming week the fall of my freshman year, which was also Forman’s first year at Emory. He impressed upon all of us in the room that a challenge Emory faced as it sought to permanently install itself as an elite school on the international stage was establishing the university’s identity.
We’ve got the Dalai Lama, Jimmy Carter and a great faculty, he said. We’ve got a lot of great students from diverse backgrounds. We’ve got a catchy mission statement, and we’ve got Dooley.
But, he continued, who are we, really?
Having been at Emory for almost six semesters, I have had many discussions about Emory’s identity with faculty members and students. During my freshman and sophomore years, the consensus we reached was that Emory was whatever students wanted it to be, especially regarding academics.
Academically, we had world-class faculty in almost every discipline and a curriculum that encouraged students to take a variety of courses and expand their knowledge base. For those students who want to study a specialized field such as nursing, medicine or business, we had elite programs for those, too.
While much of the negative criticism directed at Emory revolved around how “pre-professional” it was, one could largely ignore the perceived issue if a robust liberal arts path was available for those who wanted to pursue it.
Thus, in the classroom, students defined what it was to be a part of Emory. Unlike many peer institutions, where certain departments’ excellence is achieved at the expense of others, Emory’s academic program was, more or less, strong across the variety of programs students could choose to follow.
Today, most of these statements hold true, despite the recent liberal arts cuts. Emory is still a world-class university with a world-class faculty. Most students’ academic paths have not been altered, and, despite the turmoil and tragedy that have befallen the affected faculty and students in these departments, life goes on.
However, the one truth these cuts have revealed is that Emory is not whatever its students want it to be.
To answer the dean’s question in the fall of 2010, Emory is what he and a select number of faculty decide it should be: a pre-professional school that trains young doctors and businessmen.
While students can still participate in a strong liberal arts program â€” an excellent one, for the most part â€” the university has demonstrated that it believes pre-professional tracks are ultimately more valuable and more important.
In the short term, this means that while students’ experience in certain departments ostensibly will improve, other students will not be able to profit from certain academic programs. The strong case has been made that these changes will affect the richness of the academic experience at Emory.
I can certainly sympathize with the aspiring painters and sculptors, recreational and professional, who have had their primary creative outlet taken away, and the budding journalists and economists whose paths these cuts have partially blocked.
Yet, these immediate changes should be the least of students’ fears. The “process” under which these cuts were executed excluded all student input, which means we have lost control to influence and improve the university.
Yes, many students are involved in extracurricular organizations, such as Greek life and Volunteer Emory, that make Emory a better school in terms of student life and overall contributions to the community.
However, if a student wants to forge a certain academic path, how can that student trust that a given program will exist for the roughly four years of their undergraduate education?
How will that student know if the administration’s decisions threaten their department? And, even if that student did know that his/her program was in danger, what recourse would they have?
I know an educational studies and journalism double major who has gotten sympathetic smiles from her friends, but nothing from the institution to which she is paying hundreds of thousands of dollars in tuition. This is all too common a tale.
(By the way, to those who say that these cuts will have “no effect” on students in these departments that are getting “phased out,” I ask a question: who will teach classes in a department with fewer professors by the day? Dooley?)
Hopefully, Dean Forman’s new advisory committee, emerging from College Council, will effectively represent students’ views regarding the direction of Emory’s liberal arts curriculum. Perhaps then Emory will realize the potential of being a school where administrators and students can work together to improve academic quality.
Unfortunately, if this committee proves to provide only token representation of the student body, students will continue to attend class in uncertainty, without any means to affect positive change.
And those prospective students who do not know what they want to study before they arrive at college will not choose Emory, a place that seems to encourage certain types of students at the expense of others.
Benjamin Leiner is a College junior from Baltimore, Md.