Unpopular views catch flack at liberal universities
In Opinion
Last week I was studying with friends at the Mt. Holyoke library. We went for the architecture. Upon entering, we strode past the interior coffee patio. We clambered up the stairway that split and slithered like a two-headed snake up the wall of the mezzanine. Enduring our mock-pretentious bustle, our computer bags bounced against our hips like modern versions of the proverbial aristocratic behind. With lurid eyes, one of us exclaimed, "I'll go this way." "Fine, well I'll go this way... Hmph!" another retorted, casting a squinty, over-the-shoulder glare. With noses in the air, we were veritable senators' daughters. But why were our noses really in the air? They say that you can tell a tourist in New York because he'll always be looking up. We must have been equally obvious, except that the grandeur of the skyscrapers was replaced by that of the illustrious vaulted ceiling, the gothic windows, the corbels. The main room was modeled after the great hall at London's Palace of Westminster. It was a far cry from humble Hampshire's Johnson Library Center. I guess we had gone there hoping to osmotically imbibe some of the building's greatness. Maybe then we could concentrate?
We studied for less time than we had hoped to and then decided to eat. Something about the silence was distracting. We were conditioned to favor the transient chatter of the Airport Lounge. Laptops went back into their bags and we padded down the stairway toward the heavy wooden doors. Just before exiting, however, I overheard a conversation that made me re-think the differences between this place and my own eminent institution. A disgruntled posse of MoHos was commenting on a flyer pinned to the wall advertising the campus's new Pro-Life Club, saying something along the lines of, "What do they think they're doing? How dare they?" An endeared smile crept into my face. Maybe we're not so different after all, I thought. Perhaps these two polar opposites are united in something greater than ourselves: snobbery toward minority points of view.
I remember the hullabaloo in 2004 during my second year at Hampshire over the scheduled visit of Star Parker. She is a social activist and founder of the Center for Urban Renewal and Education (CURE). She is also the author of several books, notably her autobiography "Pimps, Whores, and Welfare Brats: From Welfare Cheat to Conservative Messenger." When her approaching visit was announced it was met with an outcry. Flyers were defaced. Nasally complaints sailed rampant on the wind. Among my peers there was genuine shock that-gasp-a Republican would deign to make an appearance in our bubble unabashed. Hampshire kids rarely demonstrate such aggression on any issue, good or bad. For examples we need only look at other key events of that year. When the Red Sox won the World Series in October, officially breaking the Curse of the Bambino, we left it to UMASS to set fire to cop cars. Similarly, when Bush was re-elected in 2004, a select group went to the big cities to demonstrate, while most of us resorted to drinking and putt-putting sullenly around campus. This time the pandemonium ceased suddenly when Ms. Parker cancelled her visit. The excuse was a family emergency, but the real reason was clear: someone got scared.
More likely, she didn't see the point in trying to penetrate our self-righteous cloud. Not that this is specific to Hampsters. Nor is it rare in the collegial atmosphere. In fact, it's quite common. Hold your breaths while I generalize for a moment. The university has become a notorious bastion of liberal rhetoric. Who other than idealist-cum-cynical leftist intellectuals-ahem, esteemed professors-would settle for barely-making-it wages until the tenure-in-the-sky descends upon them? By the time they emerge from grad school in their early 30s, well behind the career arcs of many of their peers, they've got to be pretty sure they're in the right politics. Consequently, in my experience, professors are not too concerned with sprinkling portions of their finally attained classroom forums with conservative perspective. The general sentiment is that the rest of the world will be varied, so let academia remain pure, even homogeneous. What happens when professors' parochialism meets that of the only "open-minded" kid in her high school? Two kinds of fundamentalism combine to form a hurricane of complacence that repels any and all minority-read: conservative-opinions. Middle East scholar Daniel Pipes put it succinctly in a Hannity & Colmes interview after his pro-Israel lecture at UC Irvine was interrupted by a mob of protesters. "The university is supposed to be a place for the free exchange of ideas, but yet what we're finding is it's the place with the least." This is a dim view of the university. It could easily be contrasted with stories of eye-opening experiences engendered by that crucial skill encouraged particularly by liberal arts schools: critical thinking. Indeed, if there is one useful skill to be learned at these institutions, that's it. At the end of the day, however, I hope that we can learn to use it on ourselves. Perhaps then we could engage opposition views with constructive criticism and bridge-building rather than (wet) blanket resistance.