ROADS TO RECOVERY
As one who has worked with rape and abuse survivors and who teaches in the areas of criminal law and violence against women, I am interested in new approaches for dealing with issues related to justice and recovery. I welcome Fred Luskin's "forgiveness" project and very much hope the research in this area will continue ("Peace Work," May/June). But I also see some problems that I am concerned a lay reader might not grasp from your article.
The piece notes that Luskin's definition of forgiveness differs substantially from its more familiar use by philosophers and religious thinkers, mentioning Everett Worthington's observation that there is considerable disagreement, but I don't think it makes the point as clearly as it ought.
Furthermore, while scientific study of the techniques Luskin has developed with Carl Thoresen appears to be a first, I wonder about the originality of Luskin's approach to the extent that he emphasizes gratitude and not allowing the wrongdoer to continue to control one's life. These are standard precepts in 12-step groups, and undoubtedly the precepts existed long before that.
"Resentments" are a problem for many members of 12-step groups. These groups have developed striking ways to illustrate the problem and its solutions--for instance, by characterizing resentment as "taking rat poison and waiting for the rat to die" or advising members not to "give the wrongdoer free rent in your head." As an antidote to resentment, the groups also promote gratitude for what one has. Luskin's work appears to track these same notions.
Finally, I am troubled by the suggestion that someone who has suffered extreme trauma should avoid telling his or her story and would be better off after a short exposure to Luskin's techniques. Although there is controversy about the role of trauma narrative in the field of treating victims, the answer most likely is, "It depends." Suggesting that victims of horrendous violence and terror not tell their stories, or work to revise their stories, seems terribly ill-advised. Although the advice not to "dwell on it" fits with our disdain for victims and our exhortation not to "be a victim," the truth is that victimization has horrific costs to individuals. There is a vast difference between the resentment of losing a friendship (as experienced by Luskin) and the trauma caused by violent deaths or disappearances, tortures, rapes, beatings and war, and there are corresponding differences in how to assist people who have been through these experiences. I hope Dr. Luskin keeps this in mind as he continues his worthy project.
Lynne Henderson, '75, JD '79
Las Vegas, Nevada
Thank you, Joan O'C. Hamilton, for the wonderful article on the forgiveness project. If this work is successful, imagine the opportunities to help Jews deal with the Holocaust, blacks with slavery, etc. It is so sad to see hatred and bitterness restrain progress.
Herb Smith, '60
Yorba Linda, California
FIRST FLICK
Who knew that Leland Stanford was the very first movie producer? Your fine piece on Eadweard Muybridge and his remarkable technical skills, which in 1878 produced the first-ever motion pictures and proved that a running horse has all four feet off the ground ("The Man Who Stopped Time," May/June), brought back a 13-year-old memory. In 1988, Sandstone & Tile, the Stanford Historical Society's publication, carried an article about Muybridge and Stanford written by Julian "Bud" Lesser, '36, longtime class correspondent and a movie producer in his own right. According to Lesser's article, when the shutter trippers balked, Stanford sent the problem to his railroad yard, and "17-year-old engineer John Isaacs suggested electric circuitry. He and Muybridge tinkered and perfected working magnetic trippers. The rail technicians thus became the world's first special-effects department."
Lesser noted that Stanford didn't know he was a movie producer, because "movies had not been invented yet." When Stanford asked Muybridge if it would be possible to line up a number of cameras to fire in quick succession, in order to catch every fraction of Occident's gait, "it was a major question, but neither man was aware of the implications," Lesser wrote. "Until then, the two were making pictures of motion. Thereafter, they would be making motion pictures."
Harry Press, '39
Palo Alto, California
I wish we could encourage stronger appreciation of the Stanford-Muybridge discovery among Stanford students. The Farm hosts its own evidence too modestly, with little more than a remote bronze plaque proclaiming the event. The magnitude of our alma mater's parent in sponsoring this milestone innovation has long been "out of sight, out of mind." Alumni think it a curiosity, a footnote in the governor's life.
Historians are no help. Most favor Edison's 1890s development of the intermittent-motion camera and projector as the genesis of motion pictures. The Guinness Book of Records also minimizes the accomplishment, favoring stop-motion experimenters in France. On behalf of the Farm, I once challenged Guinness and received a courteous denial in technical mumbo-jumbo.
If others demean the feat, Hollywood has long saluted it. Movie king Louis B. Mayer and his prince, Irving Thalberg, visited the Quad for a special symposium on the occasion of its 50th anniversary. Later, an mgm Pete Smith short depicted the horse/camera action. And the prestigious film magazine American Cinematographer ran as its cover story an article I wrote on the collaboration, with the subtitle, "It Really Was the First Movie."
Julian "Bud" Lesser, '36
Palm Desert, California
You state that Eadweard Muybridge was married in 1972, which is funny, because his wife had a child (albeit not his) in 1874.
Mike Sapoznikow, '00
Washington, D.C.
Your very interesting article about Eadweard Muybridge failed to mention John Isaacs, the engineer Leland Stanford hired to address the technical difficulties of his horse-in-motion studies. I think Isaacs deserves credit for the solutions that allowed the studies to succeed. The following excerpt, reprinted from Norman Tutorow's book, Leland Stanford: Man of Many Careers (1971, Pacific Coast Publishers), also supports that view.
"By 1878 . . . all preparations had been completed. Twelve cameras were placed in the building at twenty-one-inch intervals, with the double shutters of each pointing toward the track. At Stanford's suggestion, the number of cameras was doubled, and they were placed twelve inches apart. Strings were then stretched across the track which would activate the shutters when the horse hit them.
"The cameras so aligned did everything but work. The strings stretched, shrank, jarred the cameras, and frightened the horses. Stanford then assigned one of his railroad engineers, John D. Isaacs, an amateur photographer, the task of creating a stable system that would snap all the shutters closed with no jarring. Isaacs arranged the shutters one above and the other below the opening through which light was admitted to the lens. They were held by rubber springs, constructed in the form of a ring, with a lifting power of 100 pounds, and were secured by latches, which were electronically operated. In order to make the exposures at the proper intervals of time, he constructed a machine with a cylinder having a row of twelve pins arranged spirally. As this cylinder revolved, each pin established a magnetic circuit, with the magnet connected with each of the cameras in succession, and the whole series of exposures was made in the time occupied by a single complete stride of the horse. A wire was then placed across the track so that one wheel of the sulky completed an electric circuit, [a solution upon] which much of Muybridge's later reputation was based."
Marla Ackerson Gault, '60
Sandy, Utah
SPOILSPORTS?
As a graduate of both Stanford and Cal (Boalt Hall '63), I enjoy reading about excellence in sports at both universities. I didn't enjoy reading the smug piece in your May/June Farm Report ("Bad News, Bears") suggesting, on the basis of a San Francisco Chronicle column, that Cal may throw in the football towel because of Stanford's dominance in the last few years. In fairness, Stanford faces its own embarrassing state of athletic affairs, as noted in a separate Farm Report blurb ("Ruggers Forfeit Their Big Game"). Stanford, annual losers to the Cal rugby team, refused to play Cal this spring because, to quote Stanford's coach, the team was "very afraid to get injured." I commend to you a front-page report on this in the March 24 Chronicle, which quotes Stanford students as saying, "We're wimpy," and "We're weenies." A columnist in the Oakland Tribune called the Stanford team "cowardly."
Cal will definitely show up for this fall's Big Game.
Richard Turner, '60
Sacramento, California
SNOW DAY
After 25 years, we are proud that our major achievement at Stanford has been acknowledged. Yes, we are two of the "three women [who] built a snowman in White Plaza" on February 5, 1976 (Century at Stanford, March/April). The third builder--and chief instigator--was Michele Leiser, '72, at that time the manuscript specialist in the Special Collections in what was then the Main Library. We would like to point out that in those heady days of equality, it was no doubt a snowperson.
Thank you for bringing back fond memories of that snowy morning. But surely it wasn't all of 25 years ago?
Jane Burns, '76
Santa Fe, New Mexico
Blodwen Tarter, '76, MA '76
San Francisco, California
'DISRESPECTFUL'
After reading Chris Eddy's letter, "In Praise of Prince Lightfoot" (May/June), it occurs to me that--nephew of Timm Williams or not--Mr. Eddy could benefit from having a few more facts about his uncle and the campaign to remove him as the Stanford mascot.
As a keeper of the majority of the archival material concerning the Native American community on campus, including the history of the Stanford American Indian Organization (Farm Report, September/October), I had only to open the file cabinets here in our offices to find a few helpful documents. First was the original petition (dated November 22, 1970) specifically demanding the removal of Timm Williams, the individual, well before the push to remove any cartoon image. The petition stated: "We, the Stanford American Indian Organization, are deeply concerned with Timm Williams's role as mascot over the past 19 years. We feel that his live performance as a Stanford mascot is unnecessary, not appropriate, and leaves a false image of the American Indian. Furthermore, we feel that his performance is a mockery of Indian religious practices. Therefore we petition for his removal."
The second document I pulled from the files was a clipping from the Stanford Daily, dated February 9, 1972, showing a photo of Timm Williams as Prince Lightfoot. Although Mr. Eddy said his uncle "actually danced traditional Yurok dances in traditional Yurok regalia," I have my doubts. The Daily clipping shows Timm Williams wearing a Plains Indian-style feather headdress rather than a more traditional head covering from the Yurok or any other Northern California tribe. Mr. Williams is also shown dancing onto a football field ahead of the Stanford Band--presumably during a halftime show.
A football field is a mighty strange place for any real or traditional Native American dance or religious ceremony to be performed. It's not only inappropriate; it's disrespectful.
Denni Dianne Woodward
Assistant Director
Stanford American Indian, Alaska Native and Native Hawaiian Program
Stanford, California
CLARIFICATION
A news item reporting a medical journal's retraction of two research papers by a team of noted Stanford gynecological surgeons (Farm Report, May/June) requires some clarification. Only one of the authors of one of the retracted articles, Farr Nezhat, acknowledged discrepancies between the original records and the published findings. In the retraction, the editors of Surgical Laparoscopy, Endoscopy and Percutaneous Techniques described the discrepancies as "significant." Farr Nezhat, in a letter to the journal explaining the researchers' position, referred to a "slight" discrepancy and noted that "in our opinion, it had no impact on the conclusion of the paper." Stanford Medical Center's investigation of Farr Nezhat and his brothers and co-researchers Camran and Ceana Nezhat began prior to the journal's decision to retract the articles, not as a result of it.
SELF-CONGRATULATIONS
We're pleased to report that Stanford has won two gold awards&emdash;for best article of the year ("The Vexing Legacy of Lewis Terman," July/August 2000) and for overall reporting on higher education -- in the annual magazine competition held by the Council for Advancement and Support of Education. The magazine also garnered a silver for general excellence.
CORRECTIONS
• Sue Stanfield Colbert, '38 (Obituaries, March/April), earned her degree in journalism, not communication, and was not a member of the softball team.
• "Walking on Air" (May/June), describes Sally Ride as the first woman in space. She was the first American woman in space, in 1983, but was preceded by Soviet astronaut Valentina Tereshkova in 1963.
• The address of the dyslexia website cited in Book Blurbs (May/June) should have read www.edyslexia.com/saa.html.
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