Language Lessons
As a bilingual immersion educator, I was deeply disappointed and offended by Ron Unz and his English-only initiative (“Seizing the Initiative,” May/June). Mr. Unz decided a year would generally be sufficient to “get up to speed” in English by asking his friends how long it took them to learn English. But did he also ask his friends if they were literate in their first language (a basic tenet in bilingual education theory) before they were immersed in English?
Researchers Thomas and Collier from George Mason University looked at more than 700,000 language minority student records from 1982-1996. Their research indicates that bilingual education, when done right, produces results that exceed even English-only speakers’ achievement on standardized tests.
I agree that bilingual education is not living up to its potential in all school districts, but I am not in favor of scrapping something that has been successful for so many children in order to replace it with something that has not. Let’s work to fix bilingual education rather than end it.
Mary Maulhardt, ’88
San Francisco, California
Notes of Accomplishment
Thank you so much for printing Rudy Delson’s letter (May/June) and for your comments (“First Impressions ”) about the intimidating nature of Class Notes – I was so relieved! Although I consider myself an exceptionally confident person, it takes me several weeks after getting the magazine to work up the nerve to open it. I’ve taken to reading everything except Class Notes, squelching my curiosity about classmates in favor of maintaining my sense of peace and contentment with my “ordinary” life and choices.
For the record, here’s what I consider my greatest achievements: I’ve been joyously married to David Bosley, ’83, since graduation weekend, and we love our partnership in parenting our children, Sam and Bethany. Jobs, houses, moves, changes, yes – but in my opinion they pale in comparison to the above.
Elisa Phipps Bosley, ’83
Boulder, Colorado
Perhaps in some small way Class Notes have become a Rorschach test for Stanford alumni. Our response tells us more about ourselves than about any qualities inherent in Class Notes.
In contemplating classmates’ wondrous achievements, do we find their triumphs gratifying and encouraging, or frightening? The former, I hope. Career moves, civic honors, small personal honors – surely these are to be celebrated and shared. Marriage, small children and middle age have distanced me from the “fortunate specialness” I felt as a Stanford undergraduate. As I eat my breakfast cereal and read of classmates’ achievements, my confidence in my own possibilities is renewed, not diminished.
Rudy Delson invites us to be tender and honest. I invite him to find happiness in the accomplishments of other human beings. Here are my words for our class scribe: “Martin Phillips remembers intellectualism and independence, and smiles at his daughter while he changes her diaper.”
Martin Phillips, ’79
Austin, Texas
I come from a Stanford family, gleefully turned down Harvard to attend and was satisfied with my four years there. Unfortunately, I have become almost completely alienated from Stanford. Reading the alumni magazine always depresses me, because it seems that
I have nothing to offer the University anymore, and it has nothing to offer me.
I am not a surgeon or an attorney. I neither own an international athletic shoe company, nor do I endorse athletic shoes. There is no prospect of my sending significant sums of money to the endowment (since I naively went into higher education). Meanwhile, the message throughout the magazine, from Class Notes to the features to the advertising, says that I might as well be a bug on the windshield of “progress,” as seen from Palo Alto.
The University and the Alumni Association are enormously successful at what they do. The place is awash in money, prizes and power. What is lacking is a niche for some of us who aren’t on the PGA tour, running Silicon Valley or on our way to the Senate.
Steve Sowards, ’73
East Lansing, Michigan
Casey on the Green
I have just finished the excellent article about Casey Martin (“The Drive to Win ,” May/June). Although he and I have never met, we have much in common. We are both Stanford graduates. Like him, I love the game of golf, although my raw amateur’s ability hardly compares with his. And like him, every time I play, I struggle with the debilitating effects of a leg ravaged by disease.
In my case, childhood polio left me to cope with a limb three inches shorter and with half the musculature of a normal leg. How could I not identify with his cause? But I believe he was wrong to insist that the PGA allow him alone to ride in a cart.
The cart rule is just that – one of the current rules of the professional game. The argument over whether that particular rule is or isn’t an essential element of the game is no more logical than arguing over whether the rule that hitting the flagstick while putting should be a one-stroke, rather than a two-stroke, penalty.
Casey Martin, I and others who play the game love it because it is special, and special in part because of the often quirky charm of its rules. I frankly don’t agree with the logic of many of those rules, but I accept and attempt to adhere to them anyway. Casey knew the importance of every rule, favorable or unfavorable to him, when he made his career decision.
I also disagree because, by asking for the favor of a cart, he has broken the unspoken code that says, “No quarter asked, and none given.” I will bet that growing up, he played every sport possible, just as I did. Because of physical limitations, he probably wasn’t too good at some of them. But I will also bet that he never asked for special dispensation, or for a waiver of the rules in order to compete.
Casey used the Americans with Disabilities Act in his lawsuit because he “just wanted a chance to make a living.” I’m sorry, but with a Stanford education, I really don’t agree that golf is the only chance to make a living. And the ADA, however nobly motivated, is a badly flawed piece of legislation. Stories are now routine of absurd lawsuits based on the ADA, many of them having to do with athletics.
Despite my disagreement with you, Casey, you are still a hero to me and countless others. If you are ever in San Diego, look me up. It would be my honor to play a round of golf with you. I won’t even ask for strokes.
Wayne Raffesberger, ’73
San Diego, California
Mother Country
I can well imagine the relief that swept through the audience, as Stanford’s Shirley Feldman reassured mothers working outside the home that they need not fear pathologies developing in their day-care reared younger children (“Mothers’ Day,” May/June). However, my understanding is that the “50 years of studies” cited by Feldmen, particularly some recent ones, are not nearly as conclusive regarding the efficacy of day care as opposed to mother care. Is it possible that ideology is overwhelming scholarship here? I hope not, particularly since the mothers’ meeting concept sounded right on.
Dick Wharton, ’53
Tucson, Arizona
Regarding the “tacit resentment between working moms and those who stay at home,” I have my own resentments.
I became a single parent of three preschoolers on short notice. There was little support for my decision to become a “working mom.” In fact, from my perspective, there was no decision to be made. My family needed food, clothing and shelter. I was the only adult who could provide that.
My resentments are about the assumptions people make: the school that couldn’t understand why I couldn’t serve as “room mother” and bring cookies at 10 a.m.; the workaholic boss who couldn’t grasp that I needed to pick up my child before the day-care center closed at 6; the fourth-grade teacher who insisted my son make a Mother’s Day card. He came home and apologized, “She made me do it. I tried to explain to her.”
You see, I was a “working dad.”
Bruce Madsen, MS ’68
Sierra City, California
Tia O’Brien writes that many stay-at-home moms didn’t attend the Delicate Balance symposium because they were confused by the term “mothers working inside the home.” I wanted to attend but could not because childcare was not offered, not because I didn’t understand the terminology.
In contrast, last fall, I took my twin daughters to Dartmouth for a weekend celebration of 25 years of coeducation. There were workshops on career-family balance and many other topics. The organizers worked very hard to arrange childcare, and children were welcomed at some of the events and meals. If Dartmouth can provide childcare, surely Stanford should be able to.
Marianna Grossman Keller
Palo Alto, California
Quality, Not Quotas
This not-yet-dead old white male grad read with interest that Stanford now
has more women undergraduates than men (“Female Faculty ,” Leland’s Journal, May/June). This would seem to indicate that there is an expanding pool of young women with the intellectual preparation for such a university. These young women are getting into Stanford on their merits.
If the Women’s Coalition for Gender Equity wants more women on the Stanford faculty, shouldn’t its emphasis be on encouraging more women to become university professors, rather than insisting Stanford meet some unspecified quota? If there were a larger pool of qualified women seeking professorships in competition with qualified men, the claimed inequality would eventually take care of itself. Merit would be the standard – as it should be.
Would the Coalition want equal numbers of faculty women and men – even if it meant decreasing the quality of the faculty?
Robert D. Funk, ’50
Genoa, Nevada
Sex and Progress
I was somewhat amused at the (juxtaposition of) statistics in the May/June issue. President Casper’s message (Stanford Today) indicates that 76 percent of freshmen put high priority on raising a family, and “Talking About Sex ” (Leland’s Journal) notes that 72 percent of students quickly become sexually active once they enter Stanford. In my day, we went to the Stanford Chapel first (December 22, 1947, for us). I guess Jane Lathrop would hardly call this progress, and we would agree with her. For the first time, it didn’t exactly make me feel proud to be an alumnus.
Ervin Nalos, PhD ’51
Bellevue, Washington
Distasteful Dance
The great thrill I experienced in watching the Stanford basketball team edge Rhode Island en route to the Final Four (“A Season to Shout About,” May/June) was somewhat offset by the court show featuring the Dollies.
Their dance routine featured a simulated “toke” being passed from one to the other. After realistically acting out a prolonged inhale, the dancers would accelerate into frantically wild gyrations.
NCAA rules appropriately required removal of all beer signage from the arena before the tournament could be held. In the home of Anheuser-Busch, this was no small accomplishment. The marijuana dance routine was distasteful, mocked the wholesome spirit of the tournament and, in my opinion, demeaned a great university.
Ed Miles, ’53, MBA ’58
Chesterfield, Missouri
Unreal Fiction
The winning story in your fiction contest, “Is This My Baby?” (March/April), makes it seem as if finding an egg donor is as easy as opening a file of potential candidates and choosing the cream of the crop. In actuality, it is a long, difficult emotional process full of compromise and disappointment. Donors such as Jennifer do not exist. Is a professional woman with a master’s in education really to find a reflection of herself from a limited pool in which a college education is a rarity? The hard truth is that after a wait of a year or more, potential parents must settle for what is there. Also, the faulty portrayal of Jennifer as intimately involved with the family, the object of a husband’s fantasies, the target of a wife’s insecurities – all this trivializes and cheapens the system of donorhood. Outlandish though the image is to anyone in the know, such a portrayal is certain to spark fear in a young potential donor. The editors might have turned their eyes to the repercussions of such a “shot in the dark.”
Sally Vericat, ’84
San Francisco, California
I was shocked at your indiscretion. You say in “First Impressions” (March/April) that Donna Storey’s story explores the meaning of motherhood in the age of fertility technology, but I would say that it distorts this meaning to the point of travesty. Do you think that every time an adoptive mother looks at her child she thinks that child is not “really” hers? That the mother with a donated egg would do so is equally ludicrous, if not more so. Also, the idea of a husband wanting to make a baby the old-fashioned way with a beautiful young donor, a better, fresher version of his wife, is nothing more than burlesque.
Would it not have been more useful and interesting to write an article that deals with the real issues: the stress, the waiting, the giving up of dreams, the endless crying, the financial stress, the shattered hopes, the renewed hopes once a donor is found and then the ecstasy of finally being pregnant and having a baby?
Kathleen Geisse, MA ’91
San Francisco, California
Astronauts and Athletes
“They may be athletic, but they’re not dumb jocks. Stanford’s 17 astronauts hold 13 master’s degrees, 7 doctorates, 3 MDs and 2 MBAs.” Well – bully for them. I’m sure a lot of coaches and athletes wouldn’t appreciate being referred to as dumb jocks. This is a very insensitive statement.
Bob Marrin, ’58
Topeka, Kansas
I really enjoyed Lisa Sonne’s feature on Stanford’s astronauts (March/April). You left out one important bit of information: Where can we apply to the astronaut training program? “Cardinal Numbers” reveal that only 1.3 percent of astronaut applicants were accepted by NASA in 1996, but what Stanford student was ever discouraged by a little competition?
Andy Watson, MS ’94
Washington, D.C.
Editor’s Note: Would-be space travelers can apply to the Astronaut Selection Office, NASA Johnson Space Center, Houston, TX 77058.
New Wrinkle on Aging
I enjoyed Laura Carstensen’s article on aging myths (Stanford Today, March/April). She correctly points out that medical progress so far has significantly improved average, rather than maximum, lifespan by its focus on infectious diseases. I was surprised she did not mention possibilities on the horizon for genetics and molecular biology to address the underlying causes of aging.
It seems quite possible that, in a few decades, research will lead to a detailed understanding of the molecular basis of aging and, perhaps, effective interventions. If so, many of the physical changes we currently associate with aging could go the way of smallpox scars.
Tad Hogg, MS ’80, PhD ’84
Mountain View, California
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