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(10/18/91 9:00am)
The University boasts many prize winners on its faculty, but Carlos Trujillo captured the most important award in his field while still a student. The 40-year-old doctoral candidate in Spanish received Chile's prestigious Pablo Neruda Prize for poetry last month. Spanish Graduate Group Chairperson Jose Regueiro said the award is known throughout the Spanish-speaking world. "It can be described as almost a mini Nobel Prize for poetry written in Spanish," he said. The award, which was presented for the fifth time this year, is given to poets under 40 based on their life's work. Trujillo's career was shaped by the strictures placed on artists under the repressive regime of Chilean military dictator Auguste Pinochet, who took power in 1973. While writers were required to send their manuscripts to the Ministry of the Interior for approval before publication, Trujillo became part of an underground writers' workshop and published his work without permission. Nevertheless, Trujillo is reluctant to call his poetry political. "The government is one of those limits [placed on human beings], but not all," he said. Associate Dean for Romance Languages Peter Earle, who is Trujillo's dissertation advisor, said Trujillo's poetry reflects two contradictory moods. "It's very contemporary, and there are a lot of allusions to political and cultural problems in Chile and the contemporary world in general," Earle said. "But there's a good mixture of wit and serious contemplation in the poetry." Trujillo is a link between two generations of great poets. He said that the older writers who were in his underground workshop are among the best Chilean poets while still others are his former students. The poet said he came to the U.S. to gain perspective on his home country while completing his doctoral work. His dissertation will focus on the poets who were his students. He said he was afraid that his absence from his home country would jeopardize his chances for winning the prize. "It's a surprise [winning] because I have been here for two years," he said. "When I was in Chile three years ago, I thought, 'This prize is mine.' " Trujillo's fourth and most recent work is a collection called de Los que no vemos debajo del agua, which translates roughly as "Those of us who can't see under the water." None of Trujillo's poetry has been published in English.
(10/18/91 9:00am)
The University boasts many prize winners on its faculty, but Carlos Trujillo captured the most important award in his field while still a student. The 40-year-old doctoral candidate in Spanish received Chile's prestigious Pablo Neruda Prize for poetry last month. Spanish Graduate Group Chairperson Jose Regueiro said the award is known throughout the Spanish-speaking world. "It can be described as almost a mini Nobel Prize for poetry written in Spanish," he said. The prize, which was awarded for the fifth time this year, is given to poets under 40 based on their life's work. Trujillo's career was shaped by the strictures placed on artists under the repressive regime of Chilean dictator Auguste Pinochet, who took power in 1973. While writers were required to send their manuscripts to Chile's Ministry of the Interior for approval before publication, Trujillo became part of an underground writers' workshop and published his work without permission. Nevertheless, Trujillo is reluctant to call his poetry political. "The government is one of those limits [placed on people], but not all," he said. Associate Dean for Romance Languages Peter Earle, who is Trujillo's dissertation advisor, said Trujillo's poetry reflects two contradictory moods. "It's very contemporary, and there are a lot of allusions to political and cultural problems in Chile and the contemporary world in general," Earle said. "But there's a good mixture of wit and serious contemplation in the poetry." Trujillo is a link between two generations of great poets. He said the writers who were in his underground workshop are among the best Chilean poets, while others are his former students. The poet said he came to the U.S. to gain perspective on his home country while completing his doctoral work. His dissertation will focus on the poets who were his students. He said he was afraid his being out of Chile would jeopardize his chances for winning the prize. "It's a surprise [winning] because I have been here two years," he said. "When I was in Chile three years ago, I thought, 'This prize is mine.' " Trujillo's fourth and most recent work is a collection called de Los que no vemos debajo del agua, which translates roughly as "Those of us who can't see under the water." None of Trujillo's poetry has been published in English.
(10/09/91 9:00am)
A Philadelphia man was found guilty of indecent assault yesterday in his third trial for sex-related crimes committed near the University. Raydell Luke -- who was found innocent of rape and attempted rape near campus in two prior cases and will be tried in a fourth case of indecent assault next month -- also faced charges yesterday of attempted rape and simple assault, but Philadelphia Municipal Court Judge Gene Cohen said the prosecution did not establish either an intent to cause injury or an attempt to rape. In his decision, the judge required that Luke be evaluated before his sentencing by a psychiatrist who specializes in sex crimes. The 36-year-old defendant waived the right to a jury trial in yesterday's case, choosing instead to have his case heard by only a judge. The alleged victim, 23-year-old Susanne Taylor, said she was walking home from visiting a friend who lived in the high rise dormitories on May 10, 1990, when she was assaulted. Taylor testified that as she walked west on Locust Street at 7:30 that rainy evening, she sensed that someone was following her, keeping a steady distance of a half a block behind her. She said she walked as fast as she could, but after she crossed 45th Street, the person moved within a quarter of a block. Taylor saw that he was a black male, whom she later identified as Luke. When she reached the middle of the 4500 block of Locust Street, Taylor said Luke came within several feet of her and tripped. Believing that he had lunged for her, she turned around to face him and screamed. As the defendant stood up, saying, "I'm OK," Taylor said she realized he had fallen, and turned away from him to continue walking. Luke then began talking to her, asking her if she was a student and saying she looked good in the dress she was wearing. Taylor said she was afraid, and she responded with one-word answers. "I didn't want to upset him," she said. "I didn't want to incite him by something I said or didn't say." Then, according to Taylor's testimony, Luke said, "You look so good in that dress, I'd like to fuck you." He grabbed her from behind, putting his arms across her breasts and pelvis, she testified. She kicked backward, pulled away from him and ran down Locust Street. He turned and ran up 46th Street. Taylor reported the incident to Philadelphia Police and did not see Luke again until she identified him in a police lineup last February. Luke, who was arrested in January for allegedly raping a University employee, was found not guilty last month for a 1988 attempted rape of a Children's Hospital of Philadelphia doctor. A Municipal Court judge also found Luke not guilty of a December 30 rape of the University employee in August. Luke still faces two charges in an alleged indecent assault and robbery which occurred just two hours after the December 30 incident just off campus. In yesterday's hearing, much of defense attorney Steven Gross's questioning focused on Taylor's ability to identify the defendant correctly after a gap of 10 months. He introduced a pre-trial motion to suppress evidence from the lineup, but this was denied when Cohen ruled that nobody had influenced Taylor's identification. During the trial, Gross questioned her repeatedly about the amount of time she had seen her attacker's face, and he asked her about the lineup, in which she asked Luke to step forward a second time. This was a deviation from standard procedure. After the trial, Gross said that while he understood the strong effect a witness's positive identification of a suspect can have on a judge, he believes there is a danger of misidentification. "I don't think you can view a total stranger in the dark for a few seconds and identify them nine months later unless there is something really strange about them," he said. Assistant District Attorney Jeanette Synnestvedt, who is prosecuting Luke in all four cases, said yesterday she was disappointed by the verdict. She thought she had established a case for attempted rape, but the judge did not agree. She added that she would have preferred to try the case in front of a jury. "It is easier from my perspective as a prosecutor to try these sorts of cases -- attempt to rape -- in front of a jury," she said. "Juries are very understanding of sexual assault cases, very sympathetic. In this case I felt that they would have been very willing to convict on attempt to rape." Taylor also said the verdict disappointed her, but she was relieved that the trial is finished and Luke is in custody. "I could stop everything and cry for a while, or I could call a counselor and cry for a long time, but I don't believe in wasting time," she said. "I'm going to keep going. This person is not going to take away my right to walk down the street or to wear a dress." Taylor said the trial was not as difficult as she had anticipated, and according to Synnestvedt, the belief that sexual assault victims will be harassed in court is a fading stereotype. "It's really not that way when you come to court," she said. "We don't rake you over the coals and call you a whore."
(10/09/91 9:00am)
Applicants for next year's incoming class will face an easier task than this year's entrants. According to Admissions Dean Willis Stetson, one essay question was dropped from the new application and another was changed, and the application's format was revised to improve contact between the applicant and the admissions office. The dropped question, often referred to as the "ethics question," gauged applicants' responses to current social issues by having them discuss one of two Latin quotations. The first, Leges sine moribus vanae, roughly translated as "laws without morals are meaningless," is the University's motto, and applicants were required to evaluate it "in the context of an academic, social, or personal situation or experience." The second quotation translates as "We will find a way or we will make one," and applicants had to relate it to "changing values and contemporary society." The questions were added to the application only two years ago, and while they may be applied to issues which have become priorities on campus, like diversity, Stetson said the University could transmit its standards for ethical contact better after students were accepted than it could on the application. Stetson added that the questions did not prompt interesting or significant answers. "The answers were kind of bland," he said. "We didn't find out more about them [the applicants] than we already knew." College freshman Sonya Stadnick said friends warned her against applying to the University because of the application's difficulty. She said it was harder than others she completed. "There were a lot more questions and they were a lot more specific," she said. "They weren't the general questions I was asked by the other colleges." The tone of the questions is less formal in the new application, and the required length for essays was changed from 300 words to one page to give applicants a more flexible framework. The new application also includes a checklist of steps required for applying to the University and suggests that applicants send in the form with their biographical information as soon as possible so they can establish a relationship with the admissions office and be paired with an alumnus for an interview. The University lowered the fee for applying from $60 to $55 in order to make its price comparable to the other Ivy League institutions, according to Ann Greene, administrative assistant to Stetson.
(10/08/91 9:00am)
University fraternity and sorority members will connect with Greeks all over the country today in a teleconference about the role of the Greek system on university campuses. The conference's main speakers will participate in a panel discussion at Oklahoma State University, which will be broadcast via satellite to universities nationwide, and they will answer questions viewers ask by telephone. The University will receive the broadcast at the Annenberg School for Communication, and faculty members and representatives of different campus groups will participate along with members of the Greek system. The panelists, who are Greek alumni and specialists in a variety of academic fields, will focus on whether Greek systems are assets or liabilities to universities and will also address alcohol policies and risk management, the ability of the Greek system to foster a sense of community, and future trends in the system. According to Steven Lee, co-chairperson of the Greek Social Action Committee, the issues to be addressed at the conference are concerns at the University. "This is the kind of thing that GSAC, and the Greek system in general, is pursuing on its own," said the College senior. "It's for the benefit of the outside community as well as the Greek system." Representatives of the Black Inter-Greek Council, the Interfraternity Council and the Panhellenic Council will be available to answer questions after the televised conference. Panhel President Maureen Hernandez said the question-and-answer session will provide an opportunity for students who are not in the Greek system to eliminate their misconceptions about it. "I really hope that people come to ask things that they are concerned about or that they have stereotypes about," the College and Wharton senior said. Students who want to ask the panelists questions will write them on index cards, and then an Annenberg School staff member will call Oklahoma. The conference will be held in the Annenberg School, room 111, from 1 to 4 p.m. today.
(09/30/91 9:00am)
College Green shone in the crisp September sunlight as the clump of prospective students trailed a tourguide down Locust Walk Friday. The scene around them mirrored the ones in the glossy brochures they carried, with students bustling by on their way to class or studying on the grass. Every year, over 15,000 potential applicants visit the University campus, and in only two or three hours they form an impression of the University that may determine whether they apply. The admissions office tries to make the most of prospectives' short visit, providing information and making sure the campus visit -- like any other contact prospectives have with the University -- is a positive experience. The admissions office has a staff of more than 20 people devoted to handling the concerns of prospective students. Through the fall, they present the University to high school students all over the country in well-planned information sessions at high schools and evening receptions, as well as on campus. As the primary points of contact prospective students have with the University, both admissions officers and Kite and Key volunteers who give tours have workshops that guide their presentations by bolstering their supply of facts about the University and teaching them how to field common questions. In an information session in College Hall 200 Friday, about 30 prospective students and parents listened to admissions officer Randi Voluck summarize the University's history and academic strengths, with an emphasis on Benjamin Franklin's involvement and "practical" legacy. The audience laughed as Voluck described engineering students who built a cement canoe for their senior design projects, but their questions did not begin to flow until she talked about the University admissions process. Voluck, who is regional director for Pennsylvania, West Virginia and the Carolinas, said prospective students seem most interested in knowing exactly what they have to do to get into the University. While she cannot give them a formula for success, Voluck said she tries to put students at ease by giving them practical information about filling out their applications. She also shares her point of view as someone who reads applications, demystifying the process for students who fear that their laboriously completed applications will not be given enough personal attention. The underlying purpose of that sharing, according to Voluck, is to transmit a feeling that admissions officers, like others at the University, are down-to-earth enough to speak to students personally. "We're low enough key to be approachable," she said. "Nobody can afford to be on a high horse. Why would you want to?" After the hour-long session was finished, the group was split into thirds and left to the care of tourguides. Eric Werwa, an Engineering senior, led his group past Houston Hall, Irvine Auditorium and the Furness Building, chatting about their ages and the reputations of their architects. While most of the guide's speech concentrated on age and size records set by different University facilities like, "Franklin Field is the oldest two-tiered stadium in the country," Werwa did mention some more serious issues. When he brought the tour to Locust Walk, Werwa alluded to the University's internal dispute about the center of campus. He said some people felt it was unfair that very few women and minorities live on the Walk, and he described the new community service program housed in the Castle. Guides like Werwa are selected by Kite and Key board members and by representatives from the admissions office, and the content and structure of tours is overseen by liaisons from the admissions office. According to tourguide coordinator Stephanie Newman, the most important thing volunteers can offer is a truthful student perspective on campus life. "We try to tell how things relate to us," the College and Wharton junior said. "The whole point of it is we're telling the truth. The admissions office doesn't want to dictate what we say. They're not going to dictate the student perspective." While nobody on Werwa's tour asked about security, both Voluck and Newman said they usually have to field questions about that and other issues facing the University community. One parent on a tour Newman was leading even asked the point-blank question, "Is gang rape a big part of the social life here?" Newman said she handled the question as she does all security concerns, with a discussion of the University's resources and support services for victims of rape and other crimes. Janet Kobosky, regional director for admissions in the Philadelphia area, said people in her district are particularly worried about security because of the attention the problem receives in the local media. She said although she would like to reassure prospective students about their safety on campus, the best thing she can recommend is that they visit the University and see the security measures that exist. "I wish we could give them a safe place to do all of that growing and changing and meet all of those challenges, but unfortunately we can't," she said. "All we can do, quite honestly, is to provide them with the most accurate information we have and to assure them that the University is doing all it can to make the environment safe." Kobosky stressed that her job's main purpose is to provide accurate information, not necessarily to try to persuade students to apply to the University. "We're not just trying to give a happy-face experience of Penn," she said. "We don't try to gloss things over. People might think we are giving them a snow job, but we're not." Campus visits produce the best yield of applicants out of any of the formats used for reaching prospectives, but admissions officers also perform intensive leg-work to publicize the University around the country. From mid-September to mid-November, they travel for up to two weeks at a time, filling a rigorous schedule of 20 high-school visits a week in addition to evening "Introduction to Pennsylvania" information sessions. Last week Kobosky visited four schools a day and attended three evening sessions -- a regional college fair, a high school college night, and a panel discussion about the selective college admission process. Wednesday night, she went to a college fair at Cardinal Newman College, where students at Delaware County high schools came to meet representatives of 100 colleges and universities. Admissions officers said college fairs are among the least successful ways of contacting students. Prospective applicants can pick up written information and ask questions, but the setting is not conducive to longer conversations. At her assigned place at a long table between the University of Notre Dame and the University of Pittsburgh in the Newman College gymnasium, Kobosky hung a red and blue banner and unpacked her case of brochures detailing different aspects of University life and financial services. For the next two and a half hours, she answered a steady stream of questions, ranging from the popular "What SAT scores do I need to get in?" to the more obscure, "How long does it take to complete a pre-medical program?" "At least nobody asked me if we have cosmetology," said Kobosky. "Someone usually asks that." The University was the only Ivy League school represented at the fair, and while there were several other highly selective institutions there, Kobosky said the University usually shuns these affairs in favor of more intimate meetings with students. She added that because the fair was in the Philadelphia area, she went as a statement of community support. Haverford College representative J.D. Bowers said he had come for a similar reason. "We have a geographical obligation to this place," he said. "If we attract one student, it's worth it."
(09/24/91 9:00am)
Stevens, the new dean of the School of Arts and Sciences, has been at the University for 12 years and she is committed to maintaining its rich intellectual life. More importantly, perhaps, Stevens really likes working here. "There really is a sense of this being a practical place," said Stevens last week. "I'm a very practical person. I like the sense of learning as an almost tactile thing that you do. Here, you're not isolated from the world." Sitting at a conference table in 116 College Hall after most of the office staff has gone home, Stevens wondered aloud why students often speak negatively about the University despite what she calls its "great learning environment." "We're not brash as some places are," Stevens said. "We don't go out and pat ourselves on the back the whole time. I think it's time, generally, to go out and blow our horn a bit about how good we really are." Described as a warm person and rigorous scholar by her students and colleagues, Stevens incorporates both those skills into her job as dean. Unlike her predecessor Hugo Sonnenschein, who came from Princeton University, Stevens has 12 years of experience on the University faculty which provides her with the personal contacts and behind-the-scenes insight that will help her maintain contact with faculty and students. Not only was she a faculty member and chairperson of the History and Sociology of Science Department, but she was given a courtesy appointment in the Engineering School and has worked with faculty in the Medical School and the School of Social Work. "I think I have a head start on the role of dean because I have been here," Stevens said. "I have a much better idea of how the University works and how the dean's office appears from the point of view of a chair and the point of view of a faculty member, and I will have to continue to remind myself of that over the next few years." Sonnenschein's departure has raised concerns among faculty that the dean's post is being used as a stepping stone for ambitious administrators. The high turnover of SAS deans has led some to call the position a "revolving door." Of the five deans since the School of Arts and Sciences was created in 1974, only one -- Vartan Gregorian -- held it for more than three years, and he left after five. All of them moved on to higher-level administrative positions. Because of her long experience at the University, many hope that Stevens will stop the revolving door in its tracks. Music Professor Lawrence Bernstein, who chaired the search committee that selected Stevens, said the committee concentrated on candidates from within the University in the hope that someone with a deep commitment to the school would be most likely to remain here. According to H&SS; Professor Nathan Sivin, a long-time colleague of Stevens, the new dean will not be lured away from her post easily because her ambitions are scholarly rather than administrative. "She is the first dean we've had since I have gotten here that I have any conviction will hold the job for five years," Sivin said last week. Stevens echoed this sentiment. She said although the dean's position has been used as a training ground for administrators in the past, she does not intend to leave the University. "I love this school. I love being part of this faculty," she said. "I see my future here." She added her next career plan is to write another book. The dean's current concerns include reaching SAS's goal of $250 million in donations as part of University's $1 billion fund drive. While Stevens said she sees many uses for the money, the expenditures she suggests are primarily reinforcements of existing priorities such as graduate fellowships, endowed professorships and increased research space. Stevens's commitment to research facilities has made her an advocate of the controversial construction of the future Institute for Advanced Science and Technology. The IAST has drawn fire from people seeking to prevent the demolition of Smith Hall, the proposed building site, and from those afraid that the IAST will conduct weapons research in return for federal Defense Department funds . As both a resident of Smith Hall, a century-old building which houses the H&SS; department, and a former member of the University Committee on Research, Stevens has personal attachments to both sides of the debate. "I think it is a great pity to change the geography, the historic sense of place, of that particular section of campus," she said. "But at the same time, we do need additional research facilities on the campus. I think it's one of those very difficult trade-off situations." The issue of weapons research hinges on the secrecy such research would require, according to Stevens, secrecy which she feels is incompatible with an academic setting and would try to avoid at the University. Stevens's own research has been in the field of health policy. She received a B.A. in English literature from Oxford and a Ph.D. in epidemiology from Yale, where she remained as a professor. Before coming to the University, she taught at Tulane University. Her most recent book, In Sickness and in Wealth, is a study of American hospitals in the 20th century. In the classroom, she has translated her philosophy of learning as a tactile experience into action. For example, last spring she took a graduate H&SS; seminar on an overnight field trip to conduct research in the Rockefeller Archives in Tarrytown, New York. Third-year H&SS; graduate student Jennifer Gunn described Stevens as a rigorously demanding academic who is also warm and accessible to her students. "I like the way she participates in the course and brings her own research into it," said Gunn. "I think that she respects her students and treats us in a very collegial fashion and is very stimulated by the research everyone else is doing." Search Committee Chairperson Bernstein said Stevens's commitment to teaching and innovative scholarship recommended her for the post. Stevens is the first woman dean of SAS. H&SS; professor Sivin said her hiring is an indication that the selection process is less sexist than it was in the past. "It means that we are picking the best dean on the basis of quality and talent, rather than on the basis of gender," he said. "I assume that any process that has put only men into the position may be biased, and I see this as moving away from gender-based choice." Stevens said the atmosphere of academia has changed significantly since she was at Oxford in the late 1950s. She studied in an all-female college there, an experience which she said bolstered her identity as a serious scholar at a time when most potential role models in the field were male. She said she, like most women in her generation, was strongly influenced by the women's movement. While most of her classmates pursued careers but took time off to raise a family, Stevens found the academic work schedule flexible enough to allow her to continue working even while her two adopted children were young. "I took two weeks out, all together," she said. "I'm not very good at doing part-time work. I love working, and I tend always to gravitate to full-time work." Another transformation Stevens has witnessed during her academic tenure is the introduction of computer technology. She said that while she did not learn to type as an undergraduate for fear of being pigeon-holed into a secretarial career, she now word processes and uses computers in her research. She is concerned with helping faculty use new technology, even if it means teaching them techniques their students have grown up with and consider basic.
(09/17/91 9:00am)
A ruptured cooling pipe that caused flooding in a major University computer center disrupted services for two to three thousand users yesterday. Data Communication and Computing Services Operations Director George McKenna said water poured into several offices and a wiring closet at 3401 Walnut Street shortly after 9 a.m., forcing office workers to relocate computers to the dryer offices of University Management Information Services. As a result, electronic mail and the name server computer, which facilitates connections between computers around the University, were disconnected for approximately half an hour. Less essential services like the e-mail user directory were not reconnected until 4:30 p.m., and some were still being fixed last night. In addition, because the building's air conditioning system was damaged, computers in the David Rittenhouse Computing Facility were also shut down, according to Facility Director Roy Marshall. McKenna, whose office was most severely damaged by the flood, said the pipe was damaged during construction of a new office directly above his. According to Vice Provost for Computing Carl Abramson, the computers that were moved will stay in the UMIS office until repairs are completed and tested. Physics professor Sherman Frankel tried to print out a quiz at the last minute for his noon Physics for Architects class, but he was prevented by the shutdown. Instead, he hand-wrote the quiz. "It was not a big problem," said Frankel last night. "I spent 30 years doing it by hand." Fans were set up to dry out office equipment damaged by the flood, and McKenna brought a hair dryer to his office to dry his computer work station and radio. Abramson said he would not know how much damage the flood caused until he has a chance to test the equipment today.
(09/13/91 9:00am)
As School of Arts and Sciences officials meet to discuss future stages in the implementation of an undergraduate writing requirement, students last week began pilot courses designed to test new ways of teaching writing. The SAS Writing Committee, which will ask newly-appointed Dean Rosemary Stevens for her input about the requirement today, developed a program that will require that all students, beginning with the Class of 1996, take one of several types of writing intensive-courses. Among the courses being tested for future inclusion in the writing requirement are three called "Writing About . . . " According to Writing Across the University Director Peshe Kuriloff, they focus on subjects like sociology, American civilization and history and sociology of science instead of the literature usually discussed in freshman seminars. The courses also concentrate on honing writing styles appropriate to different disciplines. These courses will be one of several options that future students can use to fulfill the writing requirement. Other options for meeting the writing requirement will include a traditional first-year writing seminar, two course sections affiliated with Writing Across the University, a faculty-led writing workshop, or a two-credit writing laboratory section attached to a larger course. Kuriloff added that members of the writing committee searched for alternatives to traditional, literature-focused courses. "We worked a lot designing writing courses outside of English because the English courses are sort of there already," Kuriloff said. Sociology PhD candidate Lisa Ratmansky, who teaches Writing About Social Problems, said writing styles vary widely among academic concentrations, and the experimental seminars address this variation. "All the academic disciplines have different conventions that make writing for each of them a very different adventure," Ratmansky said. "You use different rules of evidence, of argument, different rhetorical strategies. If you learn to write about English literature, it may not translate if you want to write about the Civil War or poverty." Ratmansky's course includes exercises in writing ethnography and analyzing quantitative studies, both of which are necessary to writing about social sciences. According to Writing Committee Chairperson Guy Welbon, faculty members will be encouraged to submit courses for acceptance into the writing program. To be accepted, courses must include a minimum of 500 words assigned writing per week, have no more than 15 students, and emphasize and encourage revision of written work. "What we're after is pursuing writing the way writing is pursued," said Welbon. "One writes, one evaluates, one revises, one revises, one revises." Both the freshman seminars and the writing labs were first offered last year and are continuing on an experimental basis this semester. The faculty-led writing workshops have not yet been implemented.
(09/11/91 9:00am)
Vladimir Bernstein is riding on the crest of history. The Wharton and College junior, who transferred from Moscow State University last year, was one of the first Russians to study abroad in the wake of perestroika while retaining his Soviet citizenship. And last month, he was one of the hundreds of thousands of citizens who turned the tide of the rightist coup in Moscow. Although he now spends his time walking up and down Locust Walk like any other student at the University, just three weeks ago he was one of the dozens of Muscovites at the barricades in front of the Russian Parliament Building. Bernstein said when he first heard of hard-line politicians' attempt to take over the Soviet government, he was afraid many of the Soviet Union's recent progressive reforms would be eliminated. As a business student and an entrepreneur, Bernstein's life was altered by policies of openness and economic restructuring instituted by President Mikhail Gorbachev, and it may be affected even more significantly by recent events. Although this is only his second year studying at Wharton, Bernstein is a veteran guide and interpreter. He has led three trips to the Soviet Union this year, and he said the country's decentralization will open many new business opportunities. "I will feel much safer going there now, being able to come back and not being afraid of new regulations being proposed," he said. "I am trying to find people who are interested in my services." While business enterprises were allowed under Gorbachev's government, Bernstein said he was afraid the coup would end that freedom. He feared his business associates and friends who were interested in cultivating economic relations with the U.S. would be arrested. Bernstein now lives with two friends from high school, both of whom are currently enrolled at the University. Vassily Sidorov, a Wharton junior who transferred from Moscow State University this year, was at his parents' house in New York when the coup took place. Sidorov, whose father is a deputy ambassador to the United Nations, said he feared he would not be able to return home. He was also worried about his brother and girlfriend in Moscow. "For two days I stayed in front of the television," Sidorov said. "It was really hard to imagine the city you've lived in for so many years being occupied or under curfew." The third housemate, Ivan Schevlov, was at the University this summer. He said that although it was frustrating to be cut off from information about his home, the Russian community at the University formed a strong support group. A satellite dish at the Annenberg School of Communication received a news broadcast from Moscow every day at 2 p.m., and according to Schevlov, the room in which the program was shown filled with students and faculty discussing the events every day during and after the coup. "My days were spent listening to the radio, trying to get through to my family, and going to watch the news," the College freshman said. Bernstein telephoned Schevlov the morning of August 20, and the two students, who describe themselves as best friends, discussed the possibility that Bernstein would not be able to return to campus. Schevlov said he went to the admissions office to discuss the problem, but when he got there, he found out the coup leaders had been toppled. The three students have different expectations for the future of the Soviet Union. Bernstein said he supports independence for the Baltic republics, but hopes there will be some kind of union agreement among all the republics. He added that although he supports Gorbachev, he gained increased respect for Russian President Boris Yeltsin, who led resistance to the coup in Moscow. "Gorbachev is a smart politician and a big diplomat," he said. "But Yeltsin definitely was a hero those three days." Sidorov said he is concerned that excitement over the blocked coup will distract leaders from long-term economic and political problems that have not yet been solved. He added he does not yet understand the full impact of the coup, but he believes the people of the crumbling nation will have to adjust their attitudes to life in a non-communist system.
(09/10/91 9:00am)
Vladimir Bernstein is riding on the crest of history. The Wharton and College junior, who transferred from Moscow State University last year, was one of the first Russians to study abroad in the wake of perestroika while retaining his Soviet citizenship. And last month, he was one of the hundreds of thousands of citizens who turned the tide of the rightist coup in Moscow. Although he now spends his time walking up and down Locust Walk like any other student at the University, just three weeks ago he was one of the dozens of Muscovites at the barricades in front of the Russian Parliament Building. Bernstein said when he first heard of hard-line politicians' attempt to take over the Soviet government, he was afraid many of the Soviet Union's recent progressive reforms would be eliminated. As a business student and an entrepreneur, Bernstein's life was altered by policies of openness and economic restructuring instituted by President Mikhail Gorbachev, and it may be affected even more significantly by recent events. Although this is only his second year studying at Wharton, Bernstein is a veteran guide and interpreter. He has led three trips to the Soviet Union this year, and he said the country's decentralization will open many new business opportunities. "I will feel much safer going there now, being able to come back and not being afraid of new regulations being proposed," he said. "I am trying to find people who are interested in my services." While business enterprises were allowed under Gorbachev's government, Bernstein said he was afraid the coup would end that freedom. He feared his business associates and friends who were interested in cultivating economic relations with the U.S. would be arrested. Bernstein now lives with two friends from high school, both of whom are currently enrolled at the University. Vassily Sidorov, a Wharton junior who transferred from Moscow State University this year, was at his parents' house in New York when the coup took place. Sidorov, whose father is a deputy ambassador to the United Nations, said he feared he would not be able to return home. He was also worried about his brother and girlfriend in Moscow. "For two days I stayed in front of the television," Sidorov said. "It was really hard to imagine the city you've lived in for so many years being occupied or under curfew." The third housemate, Ivan Schevlov, was at the University this summer. He said that although it was frustrating to be cut off from information about his home, the Russian community at the University formed a strong support group. A satellite dish at the Annenberg School of Communication received a news broadcast from Moscow every day at 2 p.m., and according to Schevlov, the room in which the program was shown filled with students and faculty discussing the events every day during and after the coup. "My days were spent listening to the radio, trying to get through to my family, and going to watch the news," the College freshman said. Bernstein telephoned Schevlov the morning of August 20, and the two students, who describe themselves as best friends, discussed the possibility that Bernstein would not be able to return to campus. Schevlov said he went to the admissions office to discuss the problem, but when he got there, he found out the coup leaders had been toppled. The three students have different expectations for the future of the Soviet Union. Bernstein said he supports independence for the Baltic republics, but hopes there will be some kind of union agreement among all the republics. He added that although he supports Gorbachev, he gained increased respect for Russian President Boris Yeltsin, who led resistance to the coup in Moscow. "Gorbachev is a smart politician and a big diplomat," he said. "But Yeltsin definitely was a hero those three days." Sidorov said he is concerned that excitement over the blocked coup will distract leaders from long-term economic and political problems that have not yet been solved. He added he does not yet understand the full impact of the coup, but he believes the people of the crumbling nation will have to adjust their attitudes to life in a non-communist system.
(09/06/91 9:00am)
Busts of Bolshevik leader Vladimir Lenin were destroyed in Vilnius last year. A statue of KGB founder Felix Dzherzhinsky was torn down in Moskow last month. And now, a little closer to home, one final relic of Russian history has fallen. Or at least changed departments. Veteran History professor Alexander Riasanovsky, who has taught Russian History at the University for almost 30 years, has transferred to the Slavic Languages Department, but will continue to offer his popular history courses to undergraduates. Riasanovsky, who joined the University's History and Slavic faculties in 1958, said former History Department Chairperson Richard Beeman asked him to continue teaching History 48 and 49, a two-semester survey of Russian history, because it is one of the best-known courses at the University. Beeman, who is now an associate dean in the College of Arts Sciences, said although Riasanovsky's salary will be now be paid by the Slavic Languages Department and he will vote in that department, he will retain a secondary appointment in the History Department and many of his courses will be cross-listed in both departments. Riasanovsky said he switched departments because he wanted to concentrate on Russian culture and literature and to teach more courses in Russian. He offers one section of his history course in Russian, and he said this experience prompted him to seek similar opportunities. "What sparked my desire is that I began teaching in Russian," he said. "It is only in recent times that the Russian-speaking contingent at Penn has increased. Penn is emphasizing using languages -- not just studying languages, but using them." Riasanovsky will develop a new survey course of Russian civilization and literature which Slavic Languages Chairperson Peter Steiner said will broaden the department's curriculum. "It will be the new flagship course in our department," Steiner said. According to Beeman, it is common for professors to change departments, and he estimated that one or two such changes occur each year. He added that the last move he remembered from the History Department occurred ten years ago.
(09/05/91 9:00am)
It was an experiment involving a 2400-year-old play, a couple thousand lunches, 140 faculty members and 2200 students attending their first University class. And according to professors, administrators and students, the University's experimental assignment of Bacchae as summer reading for all incoming students was a success. The 85-page play by Euripides, which was mailed to students in July and reviewed in small group sessions led by faculty Tuesday, was assigned as a common intellectual experience for new students, according to Vice Provost for University Life Kim Morrisson, who led one of the sessions. Morrisson said the close contact with professors in the discussions was intended to introduce students to the intellectual resources of the University. Alice Kelley, English Department Undergraduate Chairperson, said she thought the discussion of Bacchae was a good supplement to Orientation Week activities. "I like the idea of their doing something like this in addition to [talks about] how to cope at the University," said Kelley, who also led a discussion. The Bacchae experiment is a merging of two independent ideas, according to Kent Peterman, a College administrator who helped organize the project. Peterman said faculty associated with the student residences had been searching for a way to engage new students in an intellectual activity when, at the same time, the Theatre Arts program proposed staging Bacchae along with workshops about the use of masks and other elements of Greek theater. Bacchae is also part of the curricula of 15 courses in the College, and students taking those courses will be able to participate in the workshops. Peterman said the play was selected for practical reasons as much as for its content, but he added that it addresses many controversial issues that are currently being debated at University. "I don't think anyone intended this, but it turned out it was an ideal text because it was a classical text, but it spoke to the debate about classical values," he said. Euripides' work addresses themes of gender relations, war, religious diversity and acceptance of foreign values, among others. Religious Studies Professor Stephen Dunning, who led a session and who also teaches Bacchae in one of his classes, said discussion of the play let him bring up these issues. "I don't think the freshmen coming in are in a position to appreciate the cleverness of the choice [of the play]," Dunning said. "Not many are aware of the debates over the issues of politically correct study. The genius of the choice is that it is part of the canonical tradition, but it is also a scathing attack on that very tradition." In Kelley's group, the discussion focused on the play's literary aspects and on several abstract religious ideas until she brought up parallels to modern issues. She said although administrators provided study questions for professors, she felt no pressure to address a specific agenda. "It was clear that we could do what we wanted with the discussion," she said. Opinions of the play varied among a group of freshmen hanging out in a dorm room earlier this week. Although several had not read it or read it at the last minute, most thought the play was a fair assignment. College freshman Eileen Everly said she was used to summer reading assignments from high school and felt Bacchae was neither too long nor too difficult. "I got the book in July and I decided, 'I like this book,' " said Everly, who highlighted her copy and took reading notes. "I thought the idea of discussing it in small groups was a good way to make it not intimidating." Other students were less enthusiastic, saying they did not like Greek plays or that the play was too gory. The students commented on Bacchae's relevance to modern times, and the play sparked a discussion of sexism which culminated in Everly reading a dramatic condemnation of male violence. Several professors said they were pleasantly surprised by the number of students who came to the sessions and by the quality of their participation. In Kelley's section, for example, only one student skipped the section, and of the 15 who attended, about ten participated in the discussion. The sessions were mandatory, and students were given an additional incentive for attending: the dining commons barred them from lunch service, but bag lunches were provided at the sessions. Faculty also reacted enthusiastically to the play. The 140 professors who volunteered to lead discussions came from across the University, including the Medical and Engineering schools. Faculty attended training sessions for discussion leaders last week, dissected their views on the play, and shared teaching tips with those unaccustomed to instructing undergraduates, but some also gathered over the summer to chat about it informally. Pharmacology Chairperson Perry Molinoff, for example, invited several members of his department to discuss the play with his wife, who has a doctorate degree in English.
(02/15/91 10:00am)
WESTERN GALILEE, ISRAEL -- I had never been inside Kafr Yassir before. Even though the Arab village is just across the road from the collective settlement where I have lived for the last six weeks, my only view of the village had been a cluster of flat, white rooftops and television antennas that I can see from our dining room window. Last week, as I walked into the village to meet the daughter of Kafr Yassif's mayor, I could see that each roof and antenna belonged to one of the two or three-story stone houses that lined the steep, narrow streets. A friend of mine, another American studying on Beit Haemek kibbutz, which is located an hour outside of Haifa, had met the mayor's daughter at a rally protesting Israel's occupation of the West Bank and Gaza Strip. After the outbreak of the Persian Gulf war, Rawda Makhul invited us to come talk to her and her family about the conflict. Once in the village, it became clear that attitudes about the war were split. Makhul, who met us in the center of the village with a brand new baby carriage that held her 14-month-old son, said she sees herself as a loyal Israeli citizen and ardently backs the country in its struggle with Iraq. "There is no problem for me being an Arab in Israel," she said. "People now are more educated than they used to be. They see that Israel is for the Jewish people and the Arab people." But others in the village seemed less certain about their loyalties. They said that the war has exacerbated the inner struggle that comes with living in a Jewish state that is often fighting its Arab neighbors. High school teacher Peter Dawwy said that while he and his students give their primary loyalty to Israel, many of the young people in his class also wanted to express their solidarity with Saddam Hussein as an Arab leader. "Sometimes you feel like a foreigner in your own land," he said. "That feeling becomes more during a war." And while Bush administration officials have flatly denied there is any "linkage" between Iraq's occupation of Kuwait and Israel's occupation of the West Bank and the Gaza Strip, in Kafr Yassif, the logic of the linkage is indisputable. Makhul's husband, Ghassan, said that Palestinians both in and outside Israel felt the U.S. was being hypocritical by becoming enraged at Iraq's actions while ignoring 20 years of Israeli occupation. "Justice is a word that must be used the way it is and not the way the United States wants it," he said. "We don't need to read this in the newspapers. We don't need our parents to tell us. This is what we feel." But Rawada Makhul said she felt differently. She said that while she hopes there will be a Palestinian homeland for her people in the West Bank, she feels connected to Israel even though it is under Jewish administration. "I believe this territory was Palestine before it was Israel, but when the Arabs came, no one told them to leave," she said. "When Jews came, after being persecuted in other countries, I say they should have the same welcome." Makhul, her husband and her mother all said that if a Palestinian state was created, they would remain in Israel. · Kafr Yassif is a village of 6000 people, 400 of whom are teachers. There are 72 people in the village who have completed their doctorate degrees, the highest percentage of any settlement in the Middle East. At the mayor's house, we sat in the living room with Makhul, her husband and her mother. I noticed that the windows were lined with tape and plastic, making the "sealed room" that every family in Israel is supposed to have in case of an Iraqi chemical attack. The war had not affected the village much, Makhul said, who acted as a translator for her relatives. The citizens had received gas masks the day before the war started, but none of the men ever wore them, preferring instead to stand outside and watch Patriot missiles collide with Iraqi Scuds. Like the Jewish children at our kibbutz, the Arab children in the village were kept away from school for two-and-a-half weeks, but other than the occasional air-raid siren at night, life in the country, and in the village, is returning to normal. After answering our questions, the family invited us to eat their 4 p.m. meal with them. As we ate the chicken with onions, salads, and rice with yogurt, Makhul's mother, Nabiha Mokros, turned the tables and began asking us questions. She said she was skeptical about the support President Bush is getting from the American people. "So they realy believe everything he says about saving Kuwait?" she asked. "How do the American soldiers feel when they know they are bombing schools and hospitals in Baghdad?" After we ate, the daughter walked us back through the village. We saw children playing cops and robbers with guns that looked almost real. We saw a grocery store whose business had dropped off because of the war. We spoke with a 12-year-old who said he wanted to live in peace with the Jews. We saw a lot more than roofs and antennas.
(02/14/91 10:00am)
WESTERN GALILEE, ISRAEL -- When Tanya Bernstein left Leningrad to come to Israel four months ago, she knew she was coming to a country threatened by war, but she was more concerned about the problems she was leaving than the ones she was going to. "I don't know about my parents, but I didn't worry about it much," the 24-year-old said last week. Like most of the other Soviet immigrants -- who have been arriving here at a rate of eight airplane-loads per night for the last year -- Bernstein came to Israel because of the prospect of material and educational opportunities not available in the Soviet Union, especially to Jews. She is one of 40 new immigrants working and learning Hebrew here on Beit Haemek kibbutz, a collective settlement an hour outside of Haifa. The Soviets, most of whom are in their early 20s, receive a $35 stipend plus room and board. Most said last week that this is an adequate living, but nothing like the bright future they dreamed of when they took flight for Israel. "Sometimes I ask myself, 'Why did I come?' " Bernstein said. "But that's because I left my boyfriend and my friends -- for personal reasons." Many said the normal sociological pressures of finding jobs, making friends and missing those they left behind are made worse by the psychological pressures of living in a country at war. Julia Tikhanova divorced her husband so she could come to Israel. The couple planned to reunite here on the kibbutz, but the 19-year-old said her ex-husband cannot obtain a visa because he is not Jewish and cannot prove he is being sponsored by relatives in Israel. Now, Tikhanova said last week, he has stopped studying Hebrew and may have decided not to come. While some of the students on the kibbutz emigrated with their families, many left their parents when they left their country. All were uprooted from their daily lives. Now, like all local residents, the Soviets are becoming used to the frequent air raid sirens. Even though the kibbutz is far from any densely-populated area, and far from where Iraqi Scuds have landed, locals carry their gas masks at all times and listen anxiously for sirens at night. Tikhanova said that during the day, she finds her life routine and unaffected by the war. But at night, she said she stays closer to home than usual in case an alarm sounds. Even in a time of war, most said, Israel offers opportunity and security the likes of which the Soviet Jews have never experienced. Schoolyard taunts and quotas at schools or jobs were facts of life for Jews in the Soviet Union. But now, young Jews here from Leningrad, the Ukraine and the Caucasus Mountains tell stories of anti-Semitic television broadcasts and anonymous letters that blame them for the growing problems in the country in the last few years. Now, Bernstein said, her fellow students marvel at the number of Jewish surnames in their classes. She added that in Leningrad, universities rarely have more than three Jews in a class. After they leave the kibbutz next month, the Soviets said they will start fulfilling their dreams. For the most part, they are not big dreams -- a chance to study architecture, open an art studio, or buy new tapes to replace a music collection left behind. Bernstein, a former English teacher, said she wants to travel if she can find the money, but added that whatever she does, at least her success will depend on her own abilities. "At least I know that it depends on me. I couldn't say that in Russia," she said. "This is a free world."
(01/30/91 10:00am)
The meeting eventually led to marriage, and now the couple has given the University the ability to sponsor a paid internship for students interested in theater. After his wife died several years ago, George Wallace, a member of the Class of 1939, decided to honor her by starting an endowment in her name. The result was the Jane Wallace Memorial Internship Program, created last year, which will annually give a student in an unpaid theater internship program the money he or she would make in a regular summer job. Student Performing Arts Coordinator Kathryn Helene, who helped design the program, said that while there are many internships available in professional theater companies, they are usually non-paying. "The economic realities are such that students have to work in the summer," she said. "This is trying to fill that gap." The internship's purpose, according to Helene, is to introduce students to the realities of professional theater so they can evaluate their own careers and also share the information with other students. "They have to ask themselves, do they want a theater career, what's involved, how glamorous is it," she said. "These are the kind of details none of us can really say to another student." College senior David Simon was the first recipient of the award, given last year. He worked for 12 weeks with the Acting Company, a New York City professional repertoire company. "[The internship] allowed me to get into some of the other areas [of theater] that I'm interested in, [including] the backstage side of it," Simon said. "It let me see what I like and what I don't like. If you're interested in working in theater, definitely apply." Applicants must write a five- to 10-page essay describing their previous involvement in theater and their professional aspirations. Wallace and his daughter Susan, along with Helene, several students and a professor, reviewed the applications last year. Helene said the committee chose Simon based on his clearly defined professional goals. He is also well known in the University arts community and will be able to spread information about the program. Helene added that she has helped other students find internships, even though the University was not able to pay for them, and said that she is hoping to expand the endowment to five internships.
(01/21/91 10:00am)
WESTERN GALILEE, ISRAEL -- Even though Israel's well-planned civil defense program has run like a well-oiled machine during the recent missle attacks, the imminent threat of a chemical attack, with its unknown consequences, has raised uncomfortable concerns, even among a population that has lived through six wars. When air-raid sirens sound, Israelis do not head for underground bomb shelters, but instead into sealed rooms in their own houses. Even after an all-clear signal sounds, they carry their gas masks with them. Here on Beit HaEmek kibbutz, a collective farm an hour outside Haifa, the threat of a gas attack has reduced the number of communal activities, if not the community spirit. In the past, communal meals and other activities have drawn the greatest number of participants during the times of danger, according to kibbutz member Shlomit Ana'nvi. But now, because of the instructions from civil defense authorities to aviod largre gatherings and to keep children close to home, residents are spending more time than usual in their own houses. The public dining room, which usually serves 500 local residents three meals a day, is now only a third full at meal times. Many residents come to fill containers of food for their families, but eat them at home. For every hour of direct danger, there are many hours in which the safety instructions are only a precaution. But this does not make time pass any more quickly for parents and children who have to stay inside all day. Local resident Ineke Soesan said that the three days last week when her four children did not go to school were a strain on all of them. "Kibbutz children, like all Israeli children, are not used to being inside all day," Soesan said last week. "They have so much energy built up." The community's war preparations include specific plans for the redistribution of jobs if the men of fighting age are called to the army. But in the current conflict, the few men who have been called up are mostly older men who hold senior positions in behind-the-lines operations. Salo Soesan, Ineke's husband, said that the country's major concern is now for its civilians and not for its fighting men. "This time, the threat was not on us, the young men, it was on the women and children," he said. "We don't care what happens to us." After two days of attacks, the gas alert response has already become routine. Families have even moved extra bedding into their sealed rooms to accomodate the relatives and friends who gather to watch television news together. As in other times of danger, Israelis are reminded that they have chosen a difficult place to live. Ana'nvi said that although her relatives in Hungary, Italy and the U.S. all offered her tickets to leave the country, she said she did not want to leave, and asked if the offer would still be valid in the summer when she will have time for a vacation. "We came to Israel to make a home for every Jew who wanted to come here," she said. "Why should I run away when all our dreams are coming true?"
(01/18/91 10:00am)
WESTERN GALILEE, ISRAEL -- At about dawn yesterday, with most American students huddled in one room around the radio with good reception, the BBC informed us that the Israeli government had instructed all citizens to open their gas masks and go into rooms that were sealed against noxious chemicals. Even the calmest of us were shaken. All at once, we jumped up from the ground -- where most were seated wrapped in blankets -- searched for our masks, and ran into the cellophane-tape-sealed rooms. Most American students on this collective farm outside of Haifa were asleep when U.S. and allied war planes made their first raid into Iraq yesterday morning. Like most of the young adults at the Beit Haemek kibbutz, we had been up late into the night Wednesday dancing and drinking at the kibbutz's small pub, and were taking a much-needed rest before the morning's work in the hatchery, kitchen and banana fields. I woke up with a start at 4:30 a.m. when someone knocked at my door. I answered it and was told that the war had started -- work was cancelled for the day and all students were supposed to stay in their rooms. The news spread quickly among the 13 American students in our group, and soon most of us had gathered in one room to listen to the radio. Some of us occasionally dozed off, while others paced nervously or ate until the chemical warfare warning came in. We had received the gas masks only on Wednesday, with explicit instructions not to open them. They were sealed in a small cardboard box along with a self-injecting syringe of nerve gas antidote and a container of decontaminating powder. The boxes were marked with our names and had rubber carrying straps. Citizens here were issued the masks only Wednesday because the kibbutz is in a rural area and is considered relatively safe. City dwellers have had the masks for months. None of us really expected a gas attack, but we felt better with the little brown boxes at our side. A few of us went to my room to listen for further instuctions on the Israeli army radio station, and when none came, we managed to fall back asleep. Another knock at the door came an hour later. This time the news was a little less shocking -- breakfast was ready in a nearby room with a television. The communal dining room was closed to reduce the number of people who would be in the same place at the same time. We were watching CNN clips with Hebrew dubbing while we ate the toast, avacadoes and tomatoes that make up a typical kibbutz breakfast when the head of Hebrew studies came in to tell us that since we weren't working, we would study today. We went to class carrying our gas masks, and suprisingly, yesterday continued in an almost normal fashion. The local children were kept home from school today so they wouldn't have to travel off the kibbutz. Only the most essential jobs like milking cows are being done, and the whole place remains very quiet. Although members of the kibbutz are anxious about the thought of an attack, they are calm. They know that this settlement is too small and too remote to be a target, even if an Iraqi attack does come. The 42-year-old collective farm has withstood six wars, and its members seem to be prepared to handle whatever comes. For the moment, with almost none of the men here called up for active duty, kibbutz members are content to stay at home and listen to the news, confident in the ability of the well-trained Israeli airforce. It's raining now, which encourages members since gas is relatively ineffective in the rain. We Americans are sitting in our rooms, waiting for daybreak in our home towns so we can call our worried parents and tell them that everything is all right.
(01/15/91 10:00am)
WESTERN GALILEE, ISRAEL -- Even with Iraqi President Saddam Hussein's promise to attack Israel in a Persian Gulf war, students and local residents at this collective farm just outside of Haifa remained calm thoughout last week's diplomatic failures but are preparing for the possibility of an outbreak of hostilities. Most members of Beit HaEmek kibbutz, in the northern Israel, said last week that they felt confident, that they are not in immediate danger, and that they will be protected by the Israeli army. Several locals have planned parties for today, making light of the United Nations' deadline that is being watched by the rest of the world. But the 14 U.S. students here as part of a Haifa University program said they were a little less confident in their security. Many spent last week cleaning bomb shelters, getting gas masks, and watching Israeli fighters fly low overhead. The students -- volunteers working on Israeli kibbutzes, studying Hebrew, and taking classes for a semester -- decided to remain here despite the exodus of many of their collegues and a strongly worded recommendation from the U.S. State Department to return stateside. The program normally attracts about 60 students. Some Israelis have questioned the judgment of the American students for putting themselves in the middle of an unstable situation. Two students said they were shocked when kibbutz members asked why they have not left the country. Those few who have stayed have been reexamining the reasons for coming to the region. There have been reassurances. An Israeli radio broadcast last week thanked all volunteers who have chosen to remain in the country, saying that only the best, most dedicated had stayed. The students at Beit HaEmek heard the broadcast while they were working in the banana field. One of the students who spoke Hebrew translated the news. "They said we're the best," she said smiling. But the rhythm of their new lives here at the kibbutz has been constantly interrupted. In the first of such interruptions, several students last week were assigned the job of cleaning the collective farm's bomb shelters. Although they were told the chore is done monthly, the shelters appeared in disarray, leading many to believe that the work is less than routine and raising concerns about personal safety in the coming weeks. Last week's Israeli government decision to distribute gas masks to rural areas heigtened fears among students and residents alike in this farming community. Some students asked if they needed to carry the masks at all times but were told it was not necessary. The roar of low-flying jets heading north for the Lebanese border, which is only 10 miles away, sent a shudder through a work group trimming banana trees last week. Their heads turned skyward, frightened by the closeness of the war machinery and by the possiblity of war itself. Amy Schumann, a Boston University junior from Connecticut, said that while she does not feel that she is in jeopardy, she would not hesitate to leave if her father asked her to come home. But others said they would stay even if parents told them to return to the U.S. "[This] is a statement that I support Israel while other people don't," said Todd Golub, a junior at the University of Delaware. And Boston University freshman Efrat Livini said she would rather be in Israel when it needs support than in the U.S. "I have more fear of living with regrets than of losing my life," she said. Despite their joking, the kibbutz members may also be afraid. Anna Perelman of Long Island, New York, said she thinks the insulated nature of the collective farms has given residents a false sense of security, which they will eventually lose. "They grow up in this bubble, so they think nothing can touch them," she said. "Now they're scared because someting is going to touch them." Alvin Johnson, a Wesleyan junior, contributed to this article.
(12/10/90 10:00am)
Last fall, Morrisson created the Committee to Restructure Penn Extension to investigate the needs of the University's community service programs. In March, the committee issued a report recommending that an office be established to coordinate different programs and that training, transportation and evaluation of the programs be improved. Morrisson endorsed the report. But since the report was issued, student leaders said, the transportation problem has become so acute that some programs have had to shut down. PVN sent a letter to Morrisson last week telling her that members were concerned that "little action has been taken." They said the only tangible result of the report so far has been the hiring of a professional administrator for the office of Penn Extension, now called the Program for Student-Community Involvement. Student volunteer leaders said they need transportation to help with the delivery of food to needy people and to ensure the safety of their volunteers, many of who travel into dangerous neighborhoods for tutoring and other activities. The Prison Tutoring Program is one outreach service that stopped this semester because it lacked reliable transportation. According to coordinator Amy Dmochowski, a College junior, the program depended on students who owned cars, a method which was not only unreliable, but limiting. Dmochowski said last year she had to turn away volunteers who could not fit into the single car available. Gordon Rucksdeschel, director of PENNpals, said students in the program walk home with the elementary students whom they tutor, often after dark, and that a van would eliminate the long, dangerous walk for both University students and the children. Former PVN Facilitator Colleen McCauley, whose term ended last week, said she assumed that since Morrisson endorsed the committee's report, the Office of University Life was working on the problem. "The issue is just feeling very discouraged at the lack of attention to the problem of transportation," said the Nursing senior. "We had hoped, or assumed, that we wouldn't have to light fires to get things going. I think we were a little naive." McCauley said transportation problems could be solved by providing a van, which would be accessible to the 30 groups that belong to the Penn Volunteer Network and to students involved in other programs in the city. But Barbara Cassel, an assistant to Morrisson, said problems of liability need to be resolved before the University can provide a van. Both Cassel and McCauley said that execution of Morrisson's proposal depends on the creation of a new position in President Sheldon Hackney's office. The new administrator, a director of community partnerships, would be in charge of projects designed to link the University to the surrounding community. But Assistant to the President William Epstein said last week that that position is part of a long-term plan for community outreach, and will not necessarily be filled immediately. Epstein said the PVN can not rely on that future administrator to solve its problems. "There are certainly enough people around to work on that kind of problem," he said.
