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Authors: Murray Sperber

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For student sports fans, part of the attraction of ESPN, particularly ESPN2 and the network's websites, are the constant updates of scores of games in progress and final results. This information feeds the sports fan's
appetite and also helps student gamblers who have “money down” on various games. The latter group, mainly males at beer-and-circus schools, consume many hours per week following their bets, and this undoubtedly boosted the totals on the question on sports spectatorship. (See chapter 17 for a full discussion of sports gambling on campus.)
 
Few professors at large, public research universities would express shock or dismay to learn that many of their male undergraduates watch more hours of sports per week than they study. However, even fewer of these faculty members could name their students' favorite daily TV sports program (
SportsCenter
) or identify Dan Patrick or Linda Cohn (
SportsCenter
announcers).
 
 
Many [university] teachers live entirely in the tiny, incestuous, self-enclosed world of academia, and haven't the faintest idea what goes on outside of it [even on their own campuses].
Many college teachers have a very limited frame of reference. They can tell you on what day of the week the Treaty of Utrecht was signed, or the name of Jonathan Swift's maid, but they will have no idea who Oprah Winfrey or Danielle Steel or Bo Jackson is.
Solution: … Pity the poor isolated soul.
—Scott Edelstein, author of a nationally
published freshman handbook
Some academics would point out—if they could identify Bo Jackson—that sports heroes come and go, and that popular culture is ephemeral and not worth following. Whether one agrees or disagrees with this argument, Edelstein's comments indicate the huge gulf between academic culture and undergraduate life, never wider than on the topic of sports, especially intercollegiate athletics. Pollster Lou Harris ascertained that a large majority of faculty have little or no interest in college sports; moreover, they tend to disparage their colleagues who do, including those professors who serve on Faculty Intercollegiate Athletics Boards (or Committees), often terming them “jock-sniffers.” In Harris's poll, faculty gave board members a 77 percent negative rating; whereas only 11 percent marked positive, and 12 percent had no opinion.
Harris's results, combined with the surveys for this book, also suggest a generation gap on the college sports issue between many faculty members and a growing number of their professional “children,” academically
inclined undergraduates. Nevertheless, the latter maintain very positive views of the faculty, whereas Scott Edelstein articulated a more typical undergraduate attitude, “Pity the poor isolated soul.”
Actually, this jibe is generous compared to some of the derogatory remarks, often well deserved, that nonacademic undergraduates hurl at professors. In interviews for this book and in P.S. notes on the questionnaire, contemporary students—whether they belonged to the collegiate, vocational, or rebel subcultures—generally expressed negative or indifferent feelings toward the faculty, often regarding professors as beings from an alien world. The recent Boyer Commission study also noticed this phenomenon, commenting, “At many universities, research faculty and undergraduate students do not expect to interact with each other,” and these expectations are usually fulfilled.
Undergraduates often illustrate the “two solitudes” at Big-time U's with vivid anecdotes. In a story that students throughout the country could repeat, an Indiana University junior told his school newspaper:
I had the good fortune to be among the many hundreds of people honored at the [university's] Founder's Day celebration … . I marveled that the place seemed to be packed completely full, including the balcony, with proud parents and friends—except for this one big hole up front, in the section reserved for faculty … .
There were only about twenty or thirty or so faculty representatives there … [of] the more than one thousand faculty members here in Bloomington. [At the time, there were 1,539 IUB full-time faculty members.]
—William Tam
At most research universities, faculty attendance at graduation and other school ceremonies is appallingly low, and dropping, mainly because research professors feel little attachment to their institutions and even less to the average undergraduate within them. In addition, some faculty do not attend because they regard these ceremonies as empty “PR shows,” mounted by administrators to sustain the pretense that general undergraduate education is important.
A humorous but no less telling example of the distance between undergraduates and the faculty appeared in a cartoon in the University of Michigan student newspaper.
U Magazine
, a monthly insert in hundreds of college papers, subsequently reprinted it, confirming its meaning to undergraduates at other schools. The first panel shows a young student exulting,
“The thing that excites me about college is the professors. The leading minds of the world are at my disposal. I can talk face to face with them and deeply benefit from their knowledge.”
 
In the next panel, the student exclaims,
 
“Here comes my history professor, now.”
 
In the final panel, the student shouts,
 
“Professor Holmes.”
 
The faculty member, never breaking stride or glancing around, mutters,
 
“E-mail me.”
 
The Michigan cartoon puts a contemporary spin on the traditional hostility between regular undergraduates and the faculty; it also refutes one of the main propaganda lies of Big-time U's—the presence of famous faculty on campus improves general undergraduate education.
Finally, however, the
U Magazine
cartoon and William Tam's description belong in the anecdotal evidence file. Much more authoritative information on the ocean between the faculty and undergraduates at research universities comes from the annual
Princeton Review
surveys based on interviews with almost sixty thousand undergraduates at more than three hundred schools. In addition, these results reveal the shorter distance between professors and students at institutions emphasizing undergraduate education.
 
 
The
[Princeton Review
] rankings are based directly upon what students on each campus tell us about their college [in their responses to our questionnaire surveys] … . Once the surveys have been completed and the responses stored in our database, each college is given a grade-point-average (GPA) for its students' answers to each individual multiple-response question.
It is these GPAs that enable us to compare student opinions from college to college, and to gauge which aspects of the complete experience at each college rate highest and lowest according to the
institution's own students. [The GPAs also generate the top-twenty lists in various categories.]
—
The Princeton Review
The
Princeton
surveys do not specifically explore the different student subcultures at schools; nonetheless, their results often indicate which subculture dominates undergraduate life at a particular institution. Many universities in the top twenty of the “Jock schools” category finish high on the “Students pack the stadiums” and “Party schools” lists, signifying institutions with strong collegiate subcultures. In fact, the
Princeton Review
explains its criteria for the “Party schools” ranking as “Based on a combination of survey questions on the use of alcohol and drugs, hours of study each day, and the popularity of the Greek system.”
The “Party schools” list for 2000 resembles the polls of top NCAA football and basketball teams.
Princeton's
first five are Florida State, University of Florida, Michigan State University, Seton Hall University, and University of Mississippi, trailed by such traditional sports powers as Alabama, Georgia, and Arkansas, as well as such college sports hopefuls as Washington State and Ohio University in Athens. High on the “Party school” list in previous years—and almost certain to reappear in future—were Arizona, Auburn, Colorado, Kansas, Louisiana State, Miami (Florida), Ohio State, Oregon, Syracuse, Texas (Austin), Tulane, West Virginia, and Wisconsin (Madison).
Similarly, in the late 1990s and 2000, schools with strong rebel subcultures turn up on the “Most politically active,” “Students most nostalgic for George McGovern,” and “Students ignore God on a regular basis” lists (Wesleyan, Simon's Rock College of Bard, and College of the Atlantic rated very high in these categories), and these colleges and similar ones (particularly Reed, Bennington, and Marlboro) appeared on
Princeton's
“Alternative Lifestyle” lists: “Gay community accepted,” “Birkenstock-wearing, tree-hugging, clove-smoking vegetarians,” and “Aesthete schools.”
Colleges with a strong academic ethos also cluster on various
Princeton
lists (see below). Only the vocational subculture is less visible, in part because so many undergraduates belonging to other subcultures also hold part-time jobs and vocational attitudes, thus merging this subculture into others, particularly on residential campuses. Nonetheless, one list—“Least happy students”—contained a majority of schools with large numbers of traditional vocational students, that is, those also working full-time jobs or supporting families. In the late 1990s and 2000, most institutions in this category were urban—for example, Temple, Loyola of Chicago, Hofstra,
Queens College (CUNY), Hunter College (CUNY)—and, undoubtedly, the hectic, overcommitted, and often unhappy lives of large numbers of their vocational students contributed to these schools' high ranking in this category. The University of Buffalo also finished very high on this list in the late 1990s and 2000, probably in part because of its sizable contingent of vocational students, as well as its academic problems (see Chapter 6).
 
After the “Least happy students” category, turning to the schools on
Princeton's
“Best overall academic experience for undergraduates” is a more pleasant experience. Rice University has frequently made the top ten on this list, including in 2000. According to the
Princeton Review
:
Rice has a varied and challenging academic program without some of the intense competition that often accompanies such stature … . Getting the classes you want is easy for freshmen and seniors alike … . [Most classes are small and] “You can take a test in the morning and then eat lunch with the professor afterwards,” explains a junior majoring in biology.
In the “Best overall academic experience for undergraduates” category, the predictable candidates appear—Swarthmore, Amherst, Williams, and other schools providing a quality undergraduate education. In this category in every
Princeton Review
edition in the 1990s and for 2000, only one institution played in NCAA Division I-A, Rice University—the exception that proves the “Best overall academic” rule. Rice made the list every year, but, with only twenty-six hundred undergraduates, it is the smallest institution in I-A, and its athletes are much less vocational than at other I-A schools. Predictably, its football and basketball teams frequently lose, and they never receive much media or fan attention. (Long ago, when Rice was a less academic institution, the Owls were a power in the old Southwest football conference; as a result, Rice entered NCAA Division I-A when that grouping began and never bothered to drop out afterward.)
In addition to low-key intercollegiate athletics, Rice neither permits fraternities and sororities nor encourages a non-Greek collegiate scene. Instead of placing students in huge, soulless dorms like Big-time U's frequently do, it houses them in human-sized “Colleges,” patterned after the Oxbridge model, with a faculty member and his or her family living in an apartment in each College. In these ways, the school consciously stunts the growth of the collegiate subculture.
As important, Rice promotes the academic subculture by emphasizing
undergraduate education, hiring faculty committed to that endeavor, and enabling them to teach small classes. This system closes the gap between professors and undergraduates, and prompts Rice students to rate their “academic experience” as “outstanding.” (Crucial to Rice's success is its large endowment, much of it from Texas oil money. Nevertheless, the school uses its money wisely and resists the temptation to squander it in an attempt to become a big-time research university with a panoply of graduate programs and TAs, drifting upward and away from undergraduate education.)
 
Similar to Rice, in the
Princeton
categories “Professors bring material to life,” “Professors make themselves accessible,” and “Class discussion encouraged,” colleges with faculty committed to teaching undergraduates always score very high, for example, Carleton, the Claremont (California) colleges, Reed, Rhodes, Sarah Lawrence, and St. John's (Maryland) on the late 1990s and 2000 lists. A recent history of American higher education explained their formula for success: these schools believe that “students do not need to be talked ‘at' [in lectures], but ‘conversed with,' preferably in small seminars and colloquia, recognizing that meaningful learning is inherently ‘labor intensive,' and cannot be conducted on a large-scale, assembly-line basis.”

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