A Williams Gem
Fran Vandermeer celebrates her team (photo copyright Williams College)
The honors have been rolling in for the members of the volleyball team during the last week. They are young (they lost only one senior to graduation last year and will again lose one this year), so their poise and perseverance through a rocky mid-season — where they were losing more than they were winning–and their improbable upsets and streak are all the more admirable. They are now 28-12, with 12 of those wins coming in the last 12 games. Congratulations to regional tournament MVP Kate Anderson and to fellow All-Tournament Team member Nichole Ballon-Landa (both sophomores) and to their very worthy All-Tournament Team member peers Alice Cummings and Jessica Duff of Wellesley.
The remarkable Coach Fran Vandermeer deserves special congratulations. She has an extraordinary connection with her team. She tries to sit through the sets the way the other coaches do, but she can’t. She doesn’t yell or stamp, but she’s always there at the edge of the court and you can see her energy and passion flowing over the line to her girls. You can sense the connection in her strategic use of time outs and the knowledge of her team embodied in it; other coaches try to do this but she almost never fails to steady her girls and send them roaring back. And she seems to keep the focus forward, something that carries over in the girls’ poise (you won’t see them getting frustrated or turning on each other the way some other teams do). As I watched her make big changes in rocky moments during the Tufts, Springfield, and Wellesley games, I kept thinking about the trust she’s built among the girls: they implemented the changes with unhesitating confidence that the new arrangement was just the thing to turn the tide (often it seemed to become a self-fulfilling prophecy).
In her 19th or 20th year as a Williams coach, Vandermeer is one of the gems of Williams College. So is Cross-Country Head Coach Pete Farwell ‘73, whose harriers again did so well yesterday but who is to be equally honored for the huge deep, smart, no-cut program he runs. Thankfully, there’s something about Williams, other NESCAC schools, and remnants of the Seven Sisters that nurtures these vital, longtime non-academic teachers.
Vandermeer steadies her team (photo copyright Williams College)
Holiday Gift Suggestion
The Williams Outing Club has revised its “North Berkshire Outdoor Guide,” the area trail guide. The publication announcement singles out two special Ephs, Katie Craig ‘08 and Bob Quay ‘04 “who in their short time at Williams gave enduring inspiration to many members of the community.” Craig’s art appears on the cover and in the book and I’m sure that the bridge on Mt. Greylock named in Quay’s memory receives prominent mention. RIP, good friends of the WOC.
Wouldn’t this make a wonderful holiday gift for your favorite Eph? And, if you can manage it, how about adding in a 2009 trip “home” with other Ephs to make use of the guide?
What Matters
The Hartford Courant has another story about Williams student Bianca Czaderna ‘11. Bianca took up rowing at Williams last fall in memory and honor of her close friend Hayley Petit. Petit, who would have rowed for Darmouth that season, was murdered, along with her mother and younger sister, in a horrific home invasion in Cheshire, Connecticut a year ago today. Czaderna has proven an exceptionally fine rower, and earned the honor of being chosen as a spare for the Williams boats that won the NCAA Championship in May.
As I read this article, I was stuck by how it fit with JG’s recent posting about Nate and Shirin.
July 4th: On Seeking the Good (revisited)
(for FM & SC) (–it is five minutes to midnight)
…From this day forward, to the final day of my administration, I pledge my life and my actions… to accomplish… and to forge a new course of nationhood through the patterns of human events…
3) To secure the future of PeMex as an inalienable national asset…, to be managed to the greatest benefit of all citizens, … to eliminate its corruption by…, … to raise production by…
7) To immediately suspend… the agricultural provisions of the NAFTA protocols, … and to renegotiate the provisions…
11) To withdraw from all but formal diplomatic relations… with the United… and seek a new relationship… on equal terms…
… y ni… ni… pero, qué puede ser que creemos, juntos¡
Inaugural Address: “A New Covenant for National Renewal: the 11 Points Speech,” (”Alternative Course,”) 4th July, —-, (planned, draft; undelivered)
Art, Politics, and Ali
This post is coming to you at the suggestion of our esteemed commenter FM.
There is a cover story in the June/July issue of the magazine Art in America called “Talking Politics 2008″ by Eleanor Hartley. She features “six artists whose work courts controversy” including Williams Professor Laylah Ali. The artists “exchange ideas about the common ground between politics and art,” a very timely topic given the recent bit of Yale art drama (discussed on EB here and here, and nicely commented upon by our own Prof. Lewis in the WSJ).
Unfortunately the Art in America article is not available online, although FM has a request in and/or might end up scanning it. We’ll see what happens. Regardless, Prof. Ali is a talented artist and notable figure in the arts. This link is from a PBS feature about artists in the 21st century called Art:21. There are some great shots of the art-in-the-making, as well as slideshows of some of her work, interviews, and other video. What a great program! This link is from another exhibition of showing examples of Professor Ali’s work.
The theme of the article seems all the more timely given the controversy surrounding the installation of “The Assassination of Hillary Clinton/The Assassination of Barack Obama” exhibition in New York City that was quickly shut down by the Secret Service. Granted, some see its attempted creation as more a bit of performance art than an actual attempt to create an exhibition “about character assassination — about how Obama and Hillary have been portrayed by the media,” but it does point again to the intersection of art and politics. The New York Times also did a feature piece in April about how the campaigns generally, and Barack Obama particularly, have inspired quite a bit of political art.
Obviously this is not a new phenomenon. Art is political, politicians and campaigns (and kings and queens and patrons) make use of and support art to fit their various purposes and ideals. Political issues likewise provide an inspiration, frame, and focus for art throughout the ages. Art is revolutionary form of speech, a unique way for artists to express their response to the world. I suppose given the Williams infiltration of the greater art community…wait, that sounds sinister. Saturation perhaps (?) of the arts community it makes sense that one of our professors was featured on this topic. So pick up a copy of the magazine if you see it someplace, or at the very least check out the link to the PBS feature of Laylah Ali above and get a taste of the work and creative process of this talented artist and asset to our faculty.
Do any of our commenters have particularly political pieces of art (visual, musical, etc.) that are your favorites or are particularly notable? Personally, I have always been truly moved and inspired by Picasso’s Guernica. I have seen the tapestry reproduction of the work that is at the United Nations building in New York, and it always evokes a raw sadness and anger in me. Thoughts from others?
The Williams College Art Mafia Continues!!
Congratulations to Professor Lewis who has won a prestigious Guggenheim Fellowship! They have been awarded since 1925 to those “who have demonstrated exceptional capacity for productive scholarship or exceptional creative ability in the arts.”
From the College’s press release:
The Fellowship will allow Lewis to complete the research and writing of “The Pietist Tradition in Town Planning.” “Pietist tradition,” Lewis explains, “is expressed in a half century of Utopian town building by varied separatist sects as the 16th-century Anabaptists, 18th-century Moravians, and 19th-century Shakers.” It is a tradition that is in parallel and in opposition to the ideal cities of the Italian Renaissance.
His project “is to do justice to this neglected chapter in the history of idea,” Lewis said. “It will show that Pietist architecture … was rooted in the scholarly and courtly centers of Europe — and reflects the fertile interaction of the Renaissance and the Reformation.”
He will spend some of his year’s leave from Williams in Germany, primarily doing research at the Moravian archives in Herrnhut, Germany. In the U.S. he will focus this year on the Moravian archives in Bethlehem, Penn.
Lewis said the book will sum up the meaning of “the other urban tradition, and seeks to take the measure of the Pietist contribution to urban thought, and its role as a laboratory for social experimentation.”
Thought it would be nice to throw a little positive reflection on Williams out there for the day. While I never had the good fortune of taking his classes, several of my fellow Ephs have been motivated to pursue their passion for art and architecture by Professor Lewis and others in the outstanding Williams College arts community. Yet again I am reminded of how lucky I was to spend four years at Williams surrounded by such dedicated, talented, and creative individuals. Bravo!
Professor Dudley W. R. Bahlman
Inspired by the “Good People of Williams” post (but not wanting my story to be lost in comments), I figured I’d write about Professor Dudley Ward Rhodes Bahlman. (Although to be fair, he went by the less formal “Dudley W. R. Bahlman”). Now that’s a name for a college professor. He looked the part as well. Easily 6′2,” he was a big man. Rumor had it that he’d played on the Yale football team. I never found out whether it was true, but he certainly had the build of a linebacker. A linebacker who wore three-piece suits to class; on his days off he’d wear a tweed sportscoat or a Shetland sweater.
Between the name, his build, and the way he dressed, he was an imposing man. So it was with some trepidation that I sat down in his class, my first class in my freshman year at Williams: History 101. “Good morning, class,” he started. “My name is Professor Bahlman. It’s not ‘Dudley’ or ‘Dud’–it’s Professor Bahlman. You will be ‘Mr. Creese’ and ‘Miss Coolidge.’ Maybe when we all die and go to that big Heaven in the sky I’ll be Dud and you can be Chip or Buffy, but in this class we will address each other formally. Is that understood?” We all gulped and nodded.
“Now, you’ll notice that I walk around a lot in class,” he said, striding forcefully back and forth across the front of the room in Greylock. “I have a lot of energy and I find it useful. I used to twirl my pocket watch on the end of its chain, but the chain let go one day and beaned a student. Knocked him out cold. Took several minutes to bring him around. So now I just walk back and forth.” Once again we gulped and nodded.
I learned a lot from him, but two lessons stand out. The first paper we had to write for him was a five-pager answering the question, “Was World War II inevitable?” Like many students at Williams, I had been a straight A student in high school. Needless to say, I was shocked when I got the paper back with a big “C+” on it. Everyone else was pretty much in the same boat, so the general demeanor in the class that day was total disbelief.
He started out, “I suspect that many of you are disappointed in your grade–as well you should be. Frankly, many of the papers were not well argued. It’s fair to say that your first mistake was to answer the question I posed.” We’re looking at each other, going, “Huh? What was that again?” He went on. “Look at how I posed the question: ‘Is World War II inevitable?’ You need to qualify the question. Inevitable when? In 1935? In September 1939? Furthermore, the word ‘inevitable” is a trap. It’s too absolute. You should have started your paper by saying something like, ‘I will answer the question, “Was World War II inevitable?” by answering the more specific question: “At the beginning of December 1941, was it probable that the U.S. would have eventually entered World War II, even if Pearl Harbor hadn’t happened?”‘ Remember, it’s your paper; you’re in control of what you write. Don’t blindly follow the professor over a cliff.”
Thirty-seven years after that class the lesson is still burned into my brain: Recast the question if necessary.
My junior year I took Professor Bahlman’s class on Victorian England and learned yet another lesson. He was a big believer in making us read “the definitive works,” some of which were quite dry. We had a quiz at the start of class one day and although most of us did pretty well, the entire class was stumped by one specific question. (We all compared notes during the break, since it was a three-hour class.) We ganged up on him once we got back in class, all of us claiming that that we’d never seen that answer in the assigned reading. “Ah,” he said, his eyes sparkling. “That was in the footnotes. You should always read the footnotes.”
I carefully read footnotes to this day.
Finally, to give a hint of his softer side, a story from outside of class. One Winter Study I did an oral history project about Williams during the Baxter and Sawyer administrations. I went around and interviewed faculty and staff who’d worked for Presidents Baxter and Sawyer, and Professor Bahlman was one of them, since he had served as Dean of the Faculty under Sawyer. At one point he got onto recounting some student pranks during the 1960s, and made the comment, “You know, I think students take themselves way too seriously these days. We haven’t had a good student prank in the past several years.”
Partly emboldened by his offhand comment–and somewhat distressed that the future Sawyer Library was being built without the obligatory construction sign listing the architect, construction firm, etc.–my roommates and I decided we would correct that omission. We created a large plywood sign, white with purple letters, that said, “Site of the Future Smilin’ Jack Sawyer Library.” We attached it to the fence surrounding the construction site in the dead of night (and got caught by Security in the process–but that’s another story). The sign suddenly appearing out of nowhere caused a minor sensation, since many people couldn’t figure out whether the sign was official or not. (We’d worked hard to make it appear professionally done.) Its appearance was written up in the Williams Record, and the college sent a picture of it to alumni in a newsletter, attributing the sign to “student humorists.” Several days later, I ran into Professor Bahlman at a hockey game as I was scooting past him to get to a seat. He looked down at my sneakers with dabs of paint on them, smiled, and said, “That’s an interesting shade of purple paint, Mr. Creese,” and winked.
In my mind, a great professor.
Good People of Williams
I was poking around on EphBlog looking for something, when I realized I’d never really looked at the Ephblog Quote Wall. Looking over it, I saw this:
In some respects what we say may never matter, yet history has proven time and again that there are sometimes cases where one voice has made a difference. The most successful of these though were always the ones who were compassionate in their cause and careful with their words. — M. Esa Seeglum ‘06
I’ll be honest that I have no idea what inspired this quote or who the author is (the link on the page was broken). But it lead me to reflect on my time at Williams and some of those who had inspired me. It also made me contemplate Larry’s suggestion that we might discuss people at Williams that had great influence on us, be it professors, fellow students, townsfolk, staff, or otherwise. I suppose this could be for the better or for the worse, but I’m hoping better. For any recently admitted students who have stumbled upon us, I hope this can give you a flavor of why we Eph Alums are so involved (sometimes overly so) in our alma mater. As you can see from this blog, our fierce loyalty involves sometimes equally fierce criticism because we want Williams to continue to improve. But I think it is safe to say that Williams has had a great impact on the lot of us, and it is good to periodically step back and remember why.
For me, there are quite a few people who had great influence on me, but I’ll start with one here. Professor Bill Darrow, Chair of the Religion Department and all-around great guy. Of course, he is a brilliant professor, but I had a number of brilliant professors at Williams. There was something extra in the way he managed to welcome students to explore complex questions, to challenge us and yet make us feel “safe” in some way to do it. He taught tutorials in his cramped office in the Stetson maze with books surrounding you on all sides, wearing what can only be described as “Cosby sweaters.” He was like a caring uncle or grandparent - but a really, really smart one. For those of you out there who know him, you’ll also recall his particular manner of speaking where his voice dropped when he made a point and how he would kind of look upward as he reached for words sometimes.
I came to Williams as a little overachiever, as most of us did. I didn’t do so well in my first Religion class - at least for me - and my confidence was shaken. Indeed, my first semester grades were my worst by far at Williams. But I was lucky enough to have Prof. Darrow as my advisor. He was encouraging, gently pushing me to still take his 300-level tutorial as a freshman the way I had originally planned (coming in, I had quite big plans for myself). What possessed me to think I could handle it, I don’t know. What possessed him to encourage me to keep going with it, I don’t know that either. It was remarkable. I was challenged every week, struggling with texts that I only partially understood, trying to put together a 10-15 page paper or critique another student’s each week, and I’m sure looking like a complete idiot. But it was one of the most valuable experiences of my time at Williams. I got through it, proved to myself I could stack up with other students despite the immense self-doubt I was feeling at the time. It also lead me to major in Religion, the subject where I, on average, had some of my lowest grades. But Professor Darrow convinced me that was okay, he was one of the first people to help me realize the value of just thinking, and thinking hard about things. There didn’t have to be a problem to solve, the pursuit itself was worthy - and the grades, while important, were not the best judge of a successful course.
I stuck with it, and “Papa D” continued to challenge me, and comfort me, through my time at Williams. During our senior major seminar for religion, the group of 10-12 of us spent Wednesday afternoons together at the top of Hopkins Hall discussing birth and death (yes, the actual topic of the seminar), and often staying late after class still discussing the issues. We also managed to use the Sixth Sense, Bladerunner, and the Neverending Story in our presentations in that class, showing the sense of humor he also exhibited toward us! He encouraged us to gather for lunch beforehand (and came to my co-op once for it, to my great thrill), to continue these discussions, to explore the flights of ideas hatched in the mind of 21-year-olds late in the afternoon.
It was his office I cried in the spring of my junior year when everything seemed for the moment to be falling apart around me. I was trying to serve on the JASC, had a suicidal first-year in my entry, a paper due in his class and another, some other student-activity related issue happening, and it was the first anniverary of an old friend’s death. I went in to ask for an extension on the paper (which he always gave to anyone), and ended up spending part of the afternoon there with him, the stacks of books, and a box of kleenex. He probably doesn’t even remember it, but his compassion reflected all that was good about the close student-faculty relationship at Williams to me.
I had the good fortune to serve as his TA in my final semester. When we talked about the job, he mentioned the value he saw in going back to those texts from Religion 101, the ones that he knew had given me so much trouble at the beginning. It was a way to complete the circle of my time at Williams. He actually thought about things like that - the full cycle of education and growth, and how it impacted his students.
Going forward in my life, I have sought to model that combination of encouragement and support - with a little push to challenge oneself. I also have to pause sometimes and remember the value of things that aren’t so task-oriented. Reading important books and thinking important thoughts are good things. So there is my (somewhat sappy) anecdote for you all about someone at Williams who influenced me. I hope that others will add their own posts in the commentary. And if you don’t, I’ll be forced to add more of my own!
