Rethinking the Senior Fund

Three months ago the Columbia University administration conceded over $60 million to appease a fringe, ad hoc group of student radicals engaged in a protracted “Gatorade” hunger-strike. An “anti-strike” movement emerged, but it proved little more than a quixotic struggle. Popular opinion, however frenzied, could not derail negotiations. Refusing to adopt the shameless politics of direct action so well-implemented by its radical peers, the counter-movement fizzled. Faced with inevitable defeat, Columbians returned to their books; the mighty bureaucracy lumbered on; and with it $60 million was lost—and forgotten about—in a few days’ time.

Ironically, perhaps, the Class of 2008 began collecting for Senior Fund, a donation to Columbia made by members of the graduating class. The juxtaposition of these two Columbia extremes, resentment and pride, forced me to address an important question: what is my future with Columbia? What follows is not a jeremiad against alumni donations. Please do not read it as such. It is, rather, part of an ongoing and decidedly personal reflection. There are no definite answers, just my thoughts and concerns.

To be clear, I hold those students collecting for the Senior Fund in especially high regard. Their respect and admiration for their college is admirable. I would even go as far to say that I agree with the majority of their proposals and aims. They are demonstrably noble and well-intentioned. For one, the notion of increasing funds for Core professors to encourage city trips and interactive experiences is brilliant. It is a small, measured step that can be easily implemented and has the potential to improve the Core for generations to come. Why, then, don’t we have it already?

Consequently, my criticism and concerns are threefold:

First, if the administration can guarantee $60-plus million to meet striker demands, why does the responsibility of improving the undergraduate experience fall upon students? As anyone who has ever dealt with the administration will tell you, it would take a year’s worth of meetings and endless forms to even marginally increase spending allowances for Core professors. History dictates that rather than working through the system and with their peers, Senior Fund organizers should just commandeer a building. Seeing how quickly the administration has given in before, an easy $30 million isn’t out of the question. In all seriousness, however, this presents a sad and telling reality: we must raise money from peers already struggling with inflated tuition and student loans to improve our college experience.

Second is a practical matter: who oversees the funds when the senior class graduates? In this vein, how do we know that money earmarked for the general fund does not end up funding diversity hires for the Ethnic Studies Department? Mandatory anti-oppression training? Tenure for controversial anthropology professors? For the apprehensive donor, however, there’s a simple solution: qualify every contribution. Unless you’re comfortable enough entrusting your money to University President Lee Bollinger or the administrators of the Core office, be explicit. Endow a favorite professor or a course; start a scholarship with your own restrictions and qualifications; or create a grant or fund for certain museums or exhibits. The list goes on, some serious and others silly (think whipped cream endowments—yes, it has happened), but the process ensures that your donations get to those who, in your opinion, deserve them.

Finally, what of power? Is a donation a tacit statement of support for an administration with whom many of us strongly disagree? For those of us who cannot make multi-million dollar donations like Mr. Kluge or Mr. Kraft, do we lose our influence if we keep giving? Insofar as President Bollinger runs Columbia as a business, we do. Donations are his barometer of success. Consider this in relation to the Senior Fund. Imagine if every member of the senior class donated just one dollar to the Senior Fund. The total itself would be insignificant, but organizers and the administration would publicize “100% participation.” There is no economic impetus for change. It is justification of the administration’s frivolous spending and troublesome policies. In light of the hunger strike, Ahmadinejad, lingering issues of academic freedom, and the severe under-funding of student groups, I cannot, in good conscience, formally donate to the University. I will, however, do the next best thing and give directly every year to the student groups and publications that defined my Columbia experience.

It’s not an easy decision, and it is no doubt subject to change, but it’s a necessary step for anyone who hopes for legitimate, positive change. For that reason, I encourage alumni and fellow students to do the same.

Chris Kulawik is a Columbia College senior majoring in history and political science. Chris Shrugged runs alternate Wednesdays.
Specopinion@columbia.edu