I had a scheduled call with our newspaper publisher in central Connecticut on the morning of Friday, December 14th, to complain about what I thought was an unfair story about the university. But as we began to talk he sounded very different from his usual friendly, open self: the newsroom was just learning the full magnitude of the horror at Sandy Hook Elementary, and he was trying to figure out how to communicate it. Needless to say, I dropped my banal reason for calling and got off the phone quickly. Over the next few hours, the unimaginable tragedy became clear to all, and darkness settled on the entire region.
No one knew what to do, except our campus police officers, who by nature of their training know exactly what to do. They spent significant time in Newtown from the start and for days afterward, serving in motorcades and helping an overstretched local police force overwhelmed by media trucks and logistics of so many funerals. Everyone else on campus was pretty much frozen. The news starting pouring in about who was killed and of course there were scores of horrifying connections to our students, staff, faculty and alumni.
My first instinct was to cancel or at least avoid the holiday parties, many still planned for the days ahead. But then you remember that people worked hard to plan these, and want to be together no matter the context. That was true, and so we gathered. Of course Newtown was the topic and there were many tears, as things were still unfolding. We have an incredibly humane governor, who showed the depth of his feelings for people who suffer long before the events unfolded in Newtown. Those who know him got some comfort to hear that he was in the firehouse near Sandy Hook, and had been the one to tell 20 sets of parents that their children would not be coming home.
What were we to do as a university once the shock passed? This was not an on-campus tragedy, and the grief was in phone calls and on screens. Many UConn people live near or in Newtown, so their proximity made the trauma unavoidable. But it was not a time to head over to Sandy Hook, unless you were a police officer or first responder, so we had to set back and think about our responsibility as the flagship university, with so many in our community touched directly by a massacre of small children.
The email and phone calls started flowing in to me, as faculty, students, and staff communicated their ideas of what we should do – fund-raisers, memorials, video messages, websites, policy recommendations, and other very fine thoughts. I was staring into space by that Sunday afternoon, a bit overwhelmed by the creativity and possibilities, but we just couldn’t do all these things well. Then our Hall of Fame women’s basketball coach, Geno Auriemma, called with the best idea of all: a scholarship campaign for the siblings of Sandy Hook victims who might – in a few years – become UConn students. An excellent idea and we ran quickly with it, collecting nearly $500,000 within a few days. The campaign is still on and will be for a long while, at this address.
One of the victims’ parents wrote me a few days ago about how touched they were for our efforts on the scholarship fund, so I am certain that was at least one meaningful initiative. But this fund is the long-term good we can do for Newtown; the agonizing loss and trauma are still right here and right now.
I hope no university ever needs this list again, but here is what we at UConn have done over the past 10 days, beyond the scholarship fund:
Academic Contributions from the School of Education: Days after the shooting, Professor George Sugai, a nationally recognized expert on school violence, joined with eight other researchers to draft a position paper outlining proposals for a scientifically informed approach to preventing future tragedies. Already, the document (which can be found here) has been endorsed by scores of top researchers and policy experts, along with more than 100 professional organizations.
Commemorations: Following the tragedy, Connecticut towns saw an outpouring of public grief and support for the victims, and the UConn community was no exception. We did not hold a vigil on campus. Instead, hundreds of students, faculty, and staff members attended the candlelight vigil in Mansfield, home of the university’s main campus. This was about our town and our state, not our campus. Days later UConn responded to Governor Malloy’s call for a day of mourning with a commemoration in Hartford attended by hundreds, organized by the vice chair of our Board of Trustees.
Athletics: UConn is home to two of the country’s premiere basketball teams, and they receive significant television time with broad national audiences. Both teams held candlelit moments of silence for the victims at games following the tragedy, with the women’s game against the University of Hartford on Dec. 22 including participation from the Newtown Youth Girls’ Basketball Association. Both teams will wear patches on their uniforms this season that say “SH” in green and white, the colors of Sandy Hook School. And Coach Auriemma’s prominence enabled us to secure him spots on CNN and MSNBC’s "Morning Joe," where he was able to speak about our scholarship fund.
Genetics Research: Wayne Carver, the Chief Medical Examiner of Connecticut, enlisted the assistance of the department of genetics and developmental biology at the UConn Health Center in conducting tests on tissue samples from the gunman. Carver wants to learn whether the killer may have had a genetic disease or condition, and UConn’s nationally renowned geneticists will offer any support he requires.
Help for Parents and First Responders: In the wake of any tragedy, one of the most overlooked aspects of the response is providing proper attention and care for first responders and others who may have been traumatized by the horror they encountered. Julian Ford, a professor of psychiatry in the UConn School of Medicine, has been providing expert advice on the best ways to address post-traumatic stress disorder, and also on how parents should talk with their children about the flood of graphic images and information from the tragedy.
Just Being There: The bonds forged at a university are so strong, as Marvin McNeill, UConn’s Assistant Director of Athletic Bands, was reminded at the funeral for little Olivia Engel, one of the children killed at Sandy Hook School. Olivia’s father, Brian, is an alumnus of the marching band, and when he saw Marvin along with other members of the band representing UConn at his daughter’s funeral, he clasped Marvin in a strong embrace. “I whispered that I am bringing much love, prayer, and support from the UConn Marching Band into his ear, and he thanked me and squeezed a little harder,” Marvin said.
Susan Herbst is president of the University of Connecticut.
Chancellor Nancy Zimpher of the State University of New York (SUNY) has added a new word to Wikipedia. While she was an English major in college, creating new words is not typically how she spends her time. But this particular word, “systemness,” has uncommon utility for her, as she presides over a 64-campus system of public higher education in a time of austerity politics. In fact, she thinks that proof of this concept has the potential to ensure opportunities for affordable postsecondary education not only in New York, but in states around the country, including my adopted state of Wisconsin.
By rethinking the traditional models of governance in which institutions exist primarily for themselves and in pursuit of their own prestige, Zimpher is encouraging colleges and universities to gather on a broader, connected playing field where serving students is the name of the game.
While this idea might sound old-fashioned to some people, given that it doesn’t explicitly involve MOOCs or other “hot” ideas, I find much to like about it. As I listened to Zimpher talk through her ideas during a recent visit to UW-Madison, I was struck by the familiarity of this territory. Ever since writing my dissertation on “swirling students” (those who attend multiple colleges and universities in pursuit of a degree), I have put the phrase “system of higher education” in quotations because institutional culture in the United States hardly reflects systems thinking at all.
Each school acts in a hypercompetitive, prestige- and resource-seeking space that feels almost Darwinian -- each striving to be the best and allowing those falling behind to simply die away. Given the tremendous potential supply of college-goers most public institutions enjoy, their adherence to this approach is remarkable. Instead of flagships working in tandem with sister schools to find places for each of the state’s high school graduates, they try to hog as many resources as possible, leaving other campuses to struggle with less. The greater good suffers.
So in theory, the idea of systemness sounds nice, promoting collaboration across campuses to coordinate program offerings and services, striving for common goals, and working together to count student successes as mutually beneficial. It is an idea borrowed from health care delivery, where so many notions of reform for higher education seem to develop.
But I have to wonder, who really wins? Do the smaller public comprehensives or community colleges really gain, or do the flagships and large urban universities continue to dominate? I am skeptical. Without specific provisions to protect against it, I am betting winners in the current system still manage to take all. It’s just too easy, even in a connected system, to downplay the players with less prestige. In other words, the system can bring everyone to the same table, but those whose voices are privileged, unless actions are specifically taken to disregard or reduce that privilege, will drive the conversation.
To be honest, really reaching the goals of systemness requires that Zimpher do more than coordinate SUNY’s 64 campuses. She must grab ahold of the current prestige drivers (inputs like student test scores, research dollars, percent of tenured faculty) and flip them, elevating the work of schools that really achieve New York’s goals. Since resources are obviously constrained, now and in the foreseeable future, this may mean pulling back a bit on the funds now flowing to the currently prioritized institutions.
Instead, the colleges and universities that welcome all state residents at whatever quality of education they managed to secure in high school and help them learn at the next level, the universities whose faculty go out and actively solve the problems New Yorkers confront in their daily lives, and the institutions that produce the most effective teachers who help New York’s kids flourish — these places should realize elevated voices and status in a renewed system.
Such institutions reject the notion of “higher” education and instead work at the “postsecondary” level -- they are workhorses in the creation of citizens for active democracies, picking up directly where high schools leave off (and indeed, wherever they leave off). Per-student funding needs to be higher where this kind of work occurs, not lower. Faculty should be tenured primarily for their excellence in teaching and service to the state, rather than the number of research articles published in barely-read academic volumes. And the value of degrees produced should be measured in terms of meeting the needs of a democracy, which requires teachers and social workers and writing tutors, not solely the high-tech employees that propel today’s economy.
It’s a big, audacious task and a controversial one. Zimpher seems inclined to try to do it really well — for example, next month she’s hosting a conference where both proponents and critics of systemness will get together to argue over the concept’s value. Personally, I’m rooting for Zimpher and her word — if she can make it happen, the truly student-focused educators among us who reside in the nation’s so-called systems of public higher education will applaud.
Sara Goldrick-Rab is associate professor of educational policy studies and sociology at the University of Wisconsin at Madison.
At celebration of land-grant universities, Bill Gates and others tell campus leaders they must use financial aid and new technology to maintain the Morrill Act's emphasis on student access and agricultural education.
It is my view that most of us engaged in education at our nation’s leading research universities focus our attention upon the wrong issues. These universities are wondrously complex institutions that defy easy analysis or understanding. We therefore tend to concentrate upon their most visible components, such as scientific research, star professors, state-of-the-art facilities and technology, economic development, international impact, and football and basketball teams.
It has become a cliché that American universities are the best in the world. This claim, while valid in important dimensions, can lead to complacency and neglect of serious problems.
Much of our international reputation is based upon two outstanding features of American universities: unrelenting commitment to an atmosphere of free and open inquiry, and excellence in scientific research. These twin advantages attract the best talent from around the world to American universities, not only to our graduate programs but increasingly to our undergraduate colleges as well.
In other aspects of our enterprise, however, we find ourselves hard-pressed. Our funding model, first of all, is under severe duress. States have repeatedly reduced their support of public universities, most severely in the past five years, a disinvestment that now threatens to erode their quality and competitiveness.
Some public universities have understandably attempted to make up the deficit in state support by raising undergraduate tuition aggressively and increasing the proportion of out-of-state students. But this strategy undermines the public mission of providing access, creates anger in the state, meets resistance in the legislature, and has now attracted the attention of the White House. As states have shifted the burden of paying for college from their general funds to students and their families, the perception has grown that higher education, once seen as a public good, has become a private interest. And these coping mechanisms, if continued, will lead to general deterioration in the quality of undergraduate education, the very part of our universities that depends most upon state support.
At private universities, tuition and fees plus room and board have, in some cases, reached $55,000 per year. Although most students do not pay that full cost, and though generous financial aid policies and endowment spending have actually brought down the real costs for the average student over the past five years, a degree carrying a price tag of well over $200,000 creates automatic sticker shock in the public. It also raises real questions about whether we have been paying enough attention to holding down expenses.
The airwaves are rife with predictions of disruptive change coming to the economic model of higher education. It is no wonder that parents paying and borrowing for a college education steer their children toward practical majors that seem to promise instant employment, and discourage them from studying the liberal arts and sciences in pursuit of a well-balanced education. A private interest in education today means a purely economic one.
From this inversion of values flows our second problem: a redefinition of the purpose of undergraduate education. Fifty years ago, when I started college, there was a widely shared view in America that the purpose of a college education was to prepare students to become educated citizens capable of contributing to society. College was in the public interest because it gave graduates an understanding of the world and developed their critical faculties.
Today, many Americans believe that the sole purpose of going to college is to get a job -- any job. The governors of Texas and Florida are quite clear on this point, and draw the corollaries that college should be cheap and vocational, even when delivered at major research universities like the Universities of Texas and Florida. A university education is more than ever seen as strictly utilitarian. The reasons are clear: a) as more students and families pay a large share of the costs, they naturally want a ready return on their investment; b) the most desirable jobs in this highly competitive job market require a college degree; and c) the gap in lifetime earnings between college and high school degree holders is huge.
Today, as many Americans hold a purely instrumentalist view of undergraduate education, they want a detailed accounting of its value. Hence our third problem: close public scrutiny and political accountability. Parents want to know, what did my daughter learn, and how does it contribute to her career? State legislatures want to know: what is the graduation rate at our university? How many undergraduate students do faculty members teach? And much more.
These questions put us in an uncomfortable position, because in some cases we do not know the answers, and in others we know them but do not like them. Many of us have eschewed the use of instruments assessing the value of general education, particularly at our major universities. We have, often for good reason, lacked confidence that such instruments are reliable measures of the value of a research university education, particularly if they are based on a one-size-fits-all approach.
However, given the level of scrutiny and skepticism in the public and in state houses, research universities need to take this issue seriously.
The professionalization of the professoriate has been crucially beneficial for research and graduate training at many institutions, but at most large universities, it has been problematic for undergraduate education. Several recent studies, some flawed but still indicative, have revealed that a significant percentage of students do not improve their critical thinking and writing much at all in the first two years of college. This should come as no surprise, given the dearth of small classes requiring active participation and intellectual interaction.
Too many students are adrift in a sea of courses having little to do with one another. Many courses, even at the upper division level, have no prerequisites, and many require no debate or public speaking or the writing of papers that receive close attention and correction. A student’s curriculum is a mélange of courses drawn almost haphazardly from dozens of discrete academic departments. And there is substantial evidence that students are fleeing demanding majors in favor of easier ones that have the added lure of appearing to promise immediate access to jobs.
The combination of drastic state disinvestment in public universities, student careerism, and pedagogical failings of our own has serious consequences for the country. To take one significant example, we now know that more than 50 percent of the students starting college with a stated desire to major in science or engineering drop out of those majors before graduating.
We can no longer blame this problem entirely on the nation’s high schools. A substantial body of research demonstrates conclusively that the problem is frequently caused by poor undergraduate teaching in physics, chemistry, biology, math, and engineering, particularly in the freshman and sophomore years. Students are consigned to large lecture courses that offer almost no engagement, no monitoring, and little support and personal attention. The combination of poor high school preparation and uninspiring freshman and sophomore pedagogy has produced a stunning dearth of science and engineering majors in the U.S. Our country now falls well behind countries like China and India in turning out graduates with strong quantitative skills.
According to the Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development, the U.S. in 2009 ranked 27th among developed nations (ahead of only Brazil) in the proportion of college students receiving undergraduate degrees in science or engineering. As a result, American students are a dwindling proportion of our graduate enrollments in science and engineering. An administration report not only states that foreign students are earning more than half of U.S. doctoral degrees in engineering, physics, computer sciences, and economics but also estimates that the United States, under current assumptions, will in the next decade under produce college graduates in STEM fields by one million.
I fear the practical as well as intellectual consequences of these trends. However, I am not a pessimist; I am a realist. In this, the 150th anniversary year of the Morrill Act, I think we can do something to reverse these trends, if we muster our collective will to do so. The anticipated report of the National Research Council on the state of our research universities will, I hope, focus national attention on the problems and opportunities confronting these vital institutions.
But over time, the renewed public investment in higher education that our country needs is unlikely if we do not acknowledge our own shortcomings and begin to address them. First, we need to say loudly and clearly that improving undergraduate education will receive our closest attention and best efforts. We need to alter faculty incentives by making undergraduate teaching at least equal to research and graduate teaching in prestige, evaluation, and reward. And we need to do research-based teaching that takes account and advantage of the latest findings of cognitive science, which are extensive, on how students learn. In brief, they learn by doing, not by just listening to someone else; they learn by solving problems, not by passively absorbing concepts; they learn best in groups of peers working things out together.
Fortunately, some of our best universities are leading the way. Initiatives at such institutions as Johns Hopkins University, Stony Brook University, the University of Michigan,Stanford, Yale, and others offer great encouragement. The remarkable thing about them is the acknowledgment by faculty that we need to focus much more attention on undergraduate education, and that we need to deliver it more effectively than we have been doing. I find these examples exhilarating and promising.
At the Association of American Universities, we hope to disseminate the findings of such research across our universities, both public and private, and thus to stimulate more students to persist in their study of math and science and engineering. We have embarked on a five-year project led by top scientists and experts in science pedagogy designed to help science departments implement these new teaching methods. One of my hopes for the future of research universities is that student learning will be at the center of faculty concern, research will inform teaching, undergraduate classrooms will be places of engaged, participatory learning, and a university education will be not just a means to an entry-level job, but an invitation to a lifetime of learning.
I am well aware of the difficulty of changing those cultures. It will take a broad and deep effort to realize serious and sustainable gains. The stakes are high, not just for our universities but for the country. In the global knowledge economy, an educated public is essential not just to economic competitiveness but to national well-being.
Hunter Rawlings is president of the Association of American Universities. This article is adapted from a speech delivered on February 28, 2012, at the De Lange Conference at Rice University.