November 15, 2002 . VOLUME 95 . NUMBER 9 . BACK TO HEADLINES . ARCHIVES


After McPherson: Professor Samatar looks ahead

By AHMED I. SAMATAR
James Wallace Professor and
Dean of International Studies and Programming




Academic institutions, much like the human beings who create them, are historical phenomena. Inspired by a particular dream, their evolution and development are shaped by an interplay between the sustaining power of the original idea, the vicissitudes of every age and the caliber of those who succeed the founding cohort. The beginning conception, then, if it is not obliterated by time, is reverberative and the basis for the longue durée. Consequently, taking seriously the heritage of an institution is indispensable. As Hannah Arendt instructs us:

"...without tradition—which selects and names, which hands down and preserves, which indicates where the treasures are and what their worth is—there seems to be no willed continuity in time and hence, humanly speaking, neither past nor future, only sempiternal change of the world and the biological cycle of living creatures in it" (1).

In this light, now at a time of impending change, when the short- and mid-term seem more important, the announced departure of President Michael McPherson affords us an opportunity to reflect on our tradition and our mission, Dr. McPherson's legacy and, most significantly, the type of a new president we ought to search for and how.



At Macalester's beginning, Dr. Edward Duffield Neill's fundamental premise was to build an institution of higher learning unapologetically modeled on Amherst, his alma mater, and the curriculum of Princeton (the other Presbyterian college) in what was then a pioneer's country called the "Northwest Territory." In his September 16, 1885, dedicatory address, he described the College's founding motto in this way:

"The trustees of Macalester College, believing in the harmony of nature and revelation, have engraved on their corporate seal two figures; one in loose, classic drapery, standing with telescope in hand, and compass at the feet, representing science investigating the laws of nature; the other, in sitting posture, clad in modest robes, holding the open Word of God, representing revelation. Both are in friendly converse, twin sisters of heaven, as the motto suggests. 'Natura et revelato coeli Gemini'" (2).

Despite the fact that this articulation of the seal of Macalester is nearly six score years old, its spirit still underlies the modern guise of our mission. But Neill went further, for he was blunt—gendered language notwithstanding—about the central role of the intellect in student life.

"A college student, while he may be allowed to select studies, must, however, conform to the curriculum which has been adopted by the professors. He is supposed to have come to college to discipline his mind by study, and the rich man's son cannot expect to find there a club house, nor are watchmen and keepers provided for any incorrigible member of a family; it can never be a lounging place, nor a reform-school" (3).

Neill pursued his vision in the courses he taught. Consequently, the best of his students, like ours, took note of his pedagogical effectiveness. Joseph W. Cochran, class of 1889, remembered his seminar experience this way:

"In the class there is none of the pedagogical chumminess, the cozy fireside attitude of modern times. The high pitched voice rasps out the names of the students with machine gun velocity. Books and papers come rattling out of the black bag as though a trigger had been pulled. Falcon-like eyes search the terrain for the likeliest victim. The hunt for ignorance is on" (4).



I hold that the combination of the pursuit of knowledge by the faculty, high academic expectation for our students, and the effectiveness of our teaching—in the final analysis only testified by the students—make up the metabolism of our College. Any contemporary innovations, and some are bound to come with the vagaries of our own age, must be held to that core's standard. Such a continuous reconciliation offers the possibilities of new insights. To do otherwise is to betray our heritage, ourselves and those who will come after us.



President Michael McPherson's seven-year tenure at Macalester is too fresh—indeed, it continues still—to yield a conclusive judgment; and this space is too limited to even attempt a full inventory. That exhaustive work awaits future historians. Be that as it may, I am of the opinion, at first cut, that McPherson's Administration will be marked by four accomplishments. First, he steadied tensions that sprang from disagreeable encounters between his predecessor, President Robert Gavin, and some segments of the faculty and students over a number of curricular and administrative issues. Here, however, I must add this: when the College's history is updated, the Gavin years will be best remembered for his singular attention to the improvement of the academic reputation of the College, since confirmed by local and national observers, and a comprehensive rehabilitation of our physical plant. The second item relates to the diversification of our endowment portfolio to such an extent that the earlier and dangerous concentration on a single stock has been mollified. Third, President McPherson led from mid-stream forward the largest, though comparatively modest, capital campaign ever undertaken by the College. Fourth, and finally, he oversaw the collaborative production of the seminal "Strategic Directions" report, whose ultimate effectiveness still awaits a strong implementing hand. For these important contributions—and others that different observers would propose—we must be grateful for President McPherson's service.



The post-McPherson opportunity is conditioned by a tussle between our major assets and threatening liabilities. A rough mapping of this context is critical in any discussion as to the type of president we need to look for.

To be sure, informed observers both here and abroad esteem our college—one reputed to have academic strength and typified by studious, diverse and civic-minded students. Second, the significant downturn of the market value of the endowment notwithstanding, Macalester's resources are still among the largest in the universe of national liberal arts colleges. Third, we are located in a most desirable area—safe, clean, culturally vibrant and well connected to the world. Fourth, despite being overstretched, we are blessed with a dedicated and proud staff. Fifth, we possess countless and successful alumni who could be moved to compound their attachments and material support to the College. And finally, we maintain a progressive identity that has always accented universalist values, ever more crucial in the present day.

But there are, as it were, at least two co-dependent and determinative "flies in the ointment." First, after some years of rising academic profile, our reputation has stalled. For some, we might have already lost our nerve and subsequently slipped. Second, our resources are diminishing. This is partly driven by our comparatively very low net tuition revenue per student, partly affected by the vagaries of the stock market, but equally driven by the smallness of our own ambition, even in an economic boom. When I arrived at Macalester in January 1994, we were the largest endowed college in the country. As of 2001, we are barely among the top twenty. Finally, we have a regrettable habit of underrating our strengths. For some, that might favorably connote a modest manner; for many others, it is a debilitating inferiority complex. Either way, the net result is a discounting of Macalester in the eyes of others, including potential students, faculty, administrators, trustees and possibly even presidents.

Given the above, we are at a crossroads—either we hold a middling ground and possibly even slide down, with the ultimate consequence of a punishing relegation to the second division; or we recharge and meet internal adversities as well as the competition including those in the neighborhood head on. The kind of president we envision, and how we search for that person, is our historic choice. I now turn to that subject.



Leadership comes in many forms. However I submit that it is, fundamentally, a composite of moral, intellectual, and administrative capabilities, combined with seriousness of purpose. Others may differ, but I proffer these as minimum attributes for a successful candidate:

1) Vision and Passion

These include an ambitious and alluring conception of excellence in liberal learning; a genuine urge to know about Macalester's deepest values and inner history; and aggressive and sustainable appetite to valorize the College's resources, accomplishments and reputation.

2) Intellectual Reputation

This means a notable, if not distinguished, record in one's area of scholarly affiliation; a broad-ranging intellect; and a desire to extend this to all areas of the College.

3) Integrity and Courage

This implies a demonstrable capacity for propriety; the authoritativeness to make difficult and principled decisions; and readiness to assemble highly competent and equally dedicated senior staff.



As for the search, some key points. First, while an experienced consulting firm can help gather nominations and undertake initial screening, the choices must be ours. Second, the search committee, as is our tradition, must be composed of chosen representatives of the trustees, faculty, staff, students and alumni. Third, finalists must be asked to present an account of their vision to some larger faculty contingent. Fourth, we ought not to feel so hurried (or in the worst case, desperate) that we compromise the potential of the selection.

Since its reputation came of national age, Macalester College finds itself at a momentous juncture. Whether we slide back or regroup for the steep gradient towards institutional greatness is up to us. The challenge, then, is to have a clear sense of where we want to go and the audacity to find someone with the mix of intellectual, moral and administrative strengths that define the antithesis of careerism and the essence of leadership.



(1) Hannah Arendt, Between Past and Future (New York: Penguin Books, 1993), p. 5.

(2) Huntley Dupré, Edward Duffield Neill: Pioneer Educator (St. Paul: Macalester College Press, 1949), pp. 89–90.

(3) Ibid., p. 91.

(4) Ibid., pp. 102–103.



Many thanks to my colleague David Chioni Moore for his contribution to this document.



Ahmed Samatar is a James Wallace Professor and Dean of International Studies and Programming.
Email: Samatar@macalester.edu.



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