A Cubicle of One's Own
Emeritus professors have a standing in the community, hut no place to sit.
What do Dartmouth faculty and administrators have in common with the alums? Quite a lot, including the fact that a fair number of both groups are alums. But the similarity I'm thinking of concerns what people do when they retire. It is well known that lots of our alumni move up to Hanover or Norwich or Eastman or Quechee when they retire. The emeritus professors and administrators don't have to move here, since they already are here. A startling number of them stay around. The annual College Directory lists about 220 emeriti (and emeritae, of course, like vice-president Ruth Adams), and it thoughtfully gives their addresses. About 150 of them remain in Hanover, Norwich, etc., and a good many more stay within day-visiting distance: 30 miles away in New London, New Hampshire, or 60 miles away in Montpelier, Vermont.
Being nearby has lots of advantages, such as access to our truly glorious library and to programs at the Hopkins Center. (We grumble a little at sometimes having to park 300 yards away, and a Bostonian would laugh herself sick to hear us.) But there's one thing we don't have. And that's a place on campus to meet each other and maybe an occasional younger colleague who's still working, or a former student who's back in town.
Ten years ago an about-to-retire dean (it was Henry Terrie, in case you're curious) appointed a committee to look into retirement policies. I was only mildly interested at the time, since my own retirement was still some years away. But one idea they floated has stayed in my mind, and it continues to intrigue me.
Might it not be a good idea, the committee said, to put up a medium-sized building specially for emeriti? It would house two things: a common room, where retired profs and administrators could sit around and tell stories, and a warren of tiny offices. Maybe as many as 50. They'd be truly tinyperhaps no bigger than six feet by eight. Just big enough for a desk, two chairs, and a couple of bookshelves. Dartmouth being Dartmouth, you'd also hardwire the whole warren so that the more adventurous among us could bring in a computer if we wished.
I say "if we wished." But it's not to feather a little nest for myself that I propose this. Though emeritus in English, I'm active in environmental studies. I already have a nice office in Steele Hall. So, speaking from Steele, here's my disinterested case.
I can think of a dozen advantages to such a building. From the point of view of the retiree, it would be a place to go after breakfast on a dull morning a place where one could actually do a little work. From die point of view of the retiree's spouse, it would be what patent medicine ads call a blessed relief.
From the College's point of view, it would be a rather handy way of adding to the faculty. At the University of Southern California they sometimes put retirees on regular working faculty committees. I'm not sure that would be a good idea here. But I am sure that some emeriti would be delighted to supervise an honors student now and then, or one doing an independent study project. Most would probably do it for free. (At the very beginning of universities, 800 years ago, all instruction was free; learning was not to be tainted by money.) The impulse to teach generally survives well beyond the energy needed to teach a full class, and a class with just one student then becomes ideal. And, of course, that second chair would also serve nicely to seat a returning alum.
If such a building was actually built, a million problems would arise, starting with cost. However small the cubicles, the building would take a substantial sum. Then there's parking. Who needs more cars on campus? The building would have to be reasonably central, since retirees tend to be slower of foot than they used to be. What would you do. about old profs who actually have become deadwood, but don't know it? Don't want to have them supervising honors students. How would you allocate the mini-offices, if more than 50 people applied? Would the active faculty and the current administrators dislike the whole scheme?
But it still strikes me as a win-win situation. "Lest the old traditions fail?" I can hardly think of a better way to keep them alive and healthy. ™1
