FROM THE BOARD'S EYE VIEW FILES, IT'S ... MY LUNCH WITH LYNN
Well, I must say that the past few days have been something of the social whirlwind for me. I've had numerous lunchtime meetings, with everyone from my intrepid adviser to the reps from Miller & Cook to Lynn Heglund, at-large board member of our college.
Miller & Cook are given detailed coverage elsewhere in this issue, and the meeting with my adviser wouldn't really make a very good story, so I'll tell you a bit about My Lunch with Lynn.
The meeting was actually Lynn's idea -- it seems there were a few aspects of our student newspaper that she wanted to discuss. We met a few days ago in the cafeteria, and our conversation (only bits of which are printed here) lasted for nearly two hours. I'd like to thank Ms. Hegland for taking the time for this meeting.
Lynn explained that her reasons for meeting with me revolved around an editorial that I wrote for issue two of our paper, about the way in which several student observers were mistreated during February's board meeting. It seems that she has received letters from board members complaining, in fairly strong language, that my writing such an article was tantamount to a betrayal of the board's good intentions toward the school. Ms. Heglund further stated that my article was making her job of making the board happy much more difficult. Asked her whether she's not that I ought to be censoring myself or turning a blind eye to the board.
"Certainly not!" She answered.
"But I don't understand," I said, "what the difference is."
"It's important to foster an atmosphere of trust and confidence. When you write the things you do, you foster distrust between the board and the community. You don't understand the influence that a person can have by writing these things."
I explained, rather coldly, that I took it as quite an insult that she thought I would take on an editorship for a college newspaper without an understanding of the power of words, and she apologized.
Ms. Heglund also wanted to talk about my contention that the board has spent $10,000 this year, an increase of 100 percent over last year (one board member referred to it as "spitting in his face"). I restated my confidence that this was inaccurate figure, and one which is reflected in the budget amendments available for public viewing.
Ms. Heglund also took exception to my statement that the board regards the student body as an annoyance. "Doesn't it mean anything," she asked, "that I'm here talking to you?"
I pointed out that it was, indeed, very nice of her indeed to come and have lunch with me. I suggested, however, that it would have been even nicer if she'd come to see us before I'd written the editorial, and I wondered aloud as to whether we'd be having this meeting at all if I hadn't written it. Ms. Heglund's response was that she couldn't do anything to change the past.
Lynn then attempted to argue that my article was "problem-oriented", citing the school of thought that modern journalism was destructive to democracy in its rabble-rousing approach to reporting.
After pointing out that my article was clearly labeled as an editorial, not a news article, I went on to point out that, in fact, if she'd read it carefully, she'd have seen that it did include a solution -- namely, a call for more direct contact between board members and students.
"Well," said Heglund, "that's not going to happen."
"Why not?" I asked.
"Because that's not how things work."
Unable to scale this particular wall of logic, I elected to change the subject. We began to discuss why we both spend so much time working to improve Goddard. I said that it was important to me that every student at Goddard feels as though s/he has as much influence over the way things are here as it is promised in our brochures. Lynn's response to this was to state that this is fine, as long as it goes through the "proper channels outlined in the Governance Document", by which I took her to mean the administration and the committee process.
I asked her what that meant for those of us who were here now, for only a couple of years, and who would be leaving before that process ever bore fruit. Lynn responded that the current state of Goddard was a definite stumbling block to relations on campus, as well as the admissions process.
"Right now," Heglund stated firmly, "in order to enroll at Goddard, you'd have to be either innocent or ill-advised."
I was rather insulted by this. "Which would you say I was?" I asked.
"Oh," she said, "probably both." She assured me that she had been innocent back when she was the student hereto, a sentiment that was a dubious comfort at best.
Our meeting ended with Miss Heglund stating that she was not interested in further meetings with me, because she found that there was "no right answer" to my questions. "I can't win with you," she said. I hadn't been aware that this was the meeting about who won, but I was glad she told me.
Ms. Heglund and I have very different views of how things work here at Goddard. I'm sorry that she won't be meeting with me again, because I still believe that direct communication is the only way to solve Goddard's problems. Every time someone places themselves away from or above another group on this campus, we get farther away from the solutions that can save our school. It's a lesson I hope gets learned before time runs out for Goddard.
