Beginning tonight, many on campus are observing the 40th anniversary of the now-legendary week of protests against the Columbia administration during which hundreds of students occupied campus buildings. Many of the weekend’s events promise to bring a better understanding of the events of 1968 to those who attend. However, perhaps because the reunion was organized mostly by people sympathetic to the protests, the events slotted for April 26 and 27 seem self-congratulatory in light of the decidedly mixed views toward these protesters. Whereas the more nuanced of the scheduled gatherings aim to provide valuable historical perspective, events commemorating the protesters might succumb to the assumption that 1968 had only positive effects on balance. Those in attendance should work to appreciate the complexity of the historical consequences of spring 1968.

The weekend as a whole is not sponsored by the University, but Columbia has granted free use of space—largely at the Graduate School of Journalism and School of Law—to the alumni who organized the events. This is no mere token, given the University’s endemic space shortages, and the gesture suits the historical importance of the 1968 protests. Moreover, a few of the panel discussions are sponsored by institutes within the University, and others boast prominent campus figures—most notably University President Lee Bollinger, whose presence is appropriate to the gravity of the occasion. On the other end of the spectrum, would-be participants might well be put off by a planned dance party at Havana Central and an open mic for “veterans of 1968” to reminisce in Earl Hall. Such reunion events naturally blur the line where balanced contemplation ends and glorification of the protesters’ actions begins.

Though President Bollinger has only addressed the matter obliquely, his expected appearance at tonight’s opening suggests that he welcomes a measure of official recognition of the anniversary. But if Columbia means to help put the school’s past in dialogue with its future, it should insist that the milestone be marked by serious consideration rather than festivities. As the University is not sponsoring the events, it will not set firm bounds on what is to be discussed. Still, professors speaking on panels ought to press the storied protesters to think critically about the consequences of student revolt. Hard as it may be to imagine similar turmoil on campus today, the elements that catalyzed student protest in the 1960s have not wholly disappeared. Provided that speakers do not simply romanticize the building occupations, students stand to gain a broader appreciation of a Columbia watershed whose effects still resonate to this day. The University also finds itself in the crosshairs—it must not ignore the important events of 1968, nor must it sentimentally co-opt them, since these events explicitly call into question Columbia’s actions as an elite institution.

More than catharsis for the 1968 protesters, this weekend offers a valuable opportunity to shed light on events that still inspire deep ambivalence, both for those who witnessed them firsthand and those who came after. Though they are unlikely to draw throngs of students, the weekend’s proceedings were clearly conceived with accessibility in mind. Most of the panels are open to all and located on campus, and the few that require tickets have a number of seats set aside for Columbia students and faculty. Despite some events’ air of self-indulgence—which the discerning student will take with a grain of salt—it is a fitting moment for Columbia to learn what it can from the checkered legacy of 1968.