Monique-Benjamin

Breaking from its longstanding policy, the Ivy League will permit current senior athletes to compete as full-time graduate students next academic year. The news, which comes after the application deadline for many Ivy League graduate schools, was confirmed by Matt Panto, the Ivy League associate executive director of strategic communications and external relations, on Thursday afternoon.

Imagine a gothic thriller written with microscopic attention to detail. In the world of that story, fear is measured in millimeters of pupil dilation, and you can hear the forest hum. This is the world of “Radio Island.”

Although the pro football season has finally ended, the NFL continued its constant fabrication of fanfare this past weekend with its annual combine, an event where prospective professional football players get to meet with team officials and show off their strength, speed, agility, and—interestingly—their smarts.

Aside from lots of running and jumping during the combine, the players sit down for the 12-minute Wonderlic Test, which is not unlike the SAT. While intelligence certainly factors into being a good football player, having prospects take a fairly academic test at the combine just seems ridiculous. Declaring for the NFL draft effectively marks the end of most players' academic careers, and unlike in college, academics will not be a major part of their lives as pro athletes. College coaches care about their athletes' SAT scores during the recruiting process because the scores matter for their admission to college and perhaps help predict their success. I've heard about complicated NFL playbooks, but memorizing a playbook does not necessarily involve the same reasoning skills assessed by the standardized tests.

During NFL draft discussions, commentators stress that the Wonderlic scores of quarterbacks are especially important—according to them, a high score shows that a player is "cerebral," whereas a low score means the player will have trouble understanding pro-level strategies. I have great respect for people who are both very smart and very athletic, but I do not think that being both is a formula for success as a pro. Let's put it this way: I think that a quarterback can choose an open receiver and make a good throw without being able understand the physics of the throw or even being capable of keeping track of his own game stats.

Every aspect of an NFL game is broken into micro-events—lining up for the play, throwing to the sideline, or sticking to a man on defense. Players do not have to holistically understand the game so much as follow very specific instructions and use their athleticism. Even when quarterbacks call an audible to change a play on the fly, they still pick from a fairly limited set of choices and surely do not sit down and use academic reasoning.

There are some great quarterbacks that did very well on the Wonderlic. While a score of 20 (out of a possible total of 50) is supposedly average, quarterback scores above 26 are considered good. Tony Romo and Eli Manning both tallied in the high 30s, and Ryan Fitzpatrick of Harvard famously scored a 48, taking only nine of the 12 allotted minutes to complete the test. All of these players have had good careers, but there are also plenty of great players who did not do exceptionally well on the test. Peyton Manning and Drew Brees both scored a good (but not exceptional) 28 points on the test, and Ben Roethlisberger got a 25. A Sports Illustrated article that argues those who get above a 26 on the Wonderlic, start at least 27 games in college, and complete at least 60 percent of their college passes are successful NFL quarterbacks. Now, even though the Sports Illustrated article does show that there is a correlation between smarts and football success—especially at the quarterback position—I think that the league could develop a test that would be more football-specific and could more aptly assess draftees' readiness for pro-style playbooks. Athletes' reading comprehension level and basic math skills may affect their understanding of a playbook, but why not just make a test that asks questions about football strategy?

The NFL's use of the Wonderlic Test suggests that the league's definition of a "smart" player is still somewhat rooted in traditional conceptions of intelligence. The league should try to develop another metric that more aptly assesses the kind of cognition used during football games. Using SAT scores to evaluate a college recruit makes sense, because it reflects the duality of an athlete's role on campus. College coaches must be concerned about both the academic and athletic abilities of their team, since college athletes are supposed to succeed in both arenas. This is just not the case for NFL players.

Because the results are curved, not everyone can score well on a standardized test. I just don't see why we expect NFL players, especially quarterbacks, to be on the top of that curve. Yes, I'm impressed that Eli Manning scored a 39 on the test, but I think that his determination, levelheadedness, coordination, and experience playing football help him win games far more than his ability to do a simple algebra problem. I doubt that coach Mangurian will tell his players to go hone their basic reasoning skills after a loss this fall—he'll make them go practice football.

Benjamin Spener is a Columbia College sophomore majoring in economics-mathematics and Latin American and Iberian cultures.
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Dean of Advising Monique Rinere has left Columbia.

For Amanda Suarez, CC '14, Dean of Advising Monique Rinere is the person who has turned her Columbia career around. After a negative experience with her adviser last year, Suarez heard from a friend that Rinere would "change your life" and decided to set up an appointment with her. The instant Suarez sat down in her office, Rinere started writing down every detail of her life that Suarez told her and memorized her name. Since then, Rinere has helped her deal with everything from the financial aid office to her personal life. That "holistic" approach to advising drives both Rinere's one-on-one interactions with her advisees and her management of the Center for Student Advising, which she finished overhauling in August 2010. Rinere, whose mother was a "farm girl" and whose father grew up "on the streets of Brooklyn," said she received almost no guidance from her parents about higher education and "stumbled" into college. Her advising conversations with her German and harpsichord teachers helped her work through personal and academic challenges and ultimately led her to her passion for advising. "One of the things that both of them did was allow me the space and time to meander in my thinking through advising conversations about the ways in which I wanted to shape my life," Rinere said. "I realized that every student would benefit from having a safe place to wander through imagined lives and futures." At a school where students don't hesitate to complain about bureaucracy, Rinere's personability sticks out, advisees said. Rinere uses a technique she calls "narrative advising" in which the adviser "continuously elicits a student's personal story." Karishma Habbu, CC '13, said that the technique is part of why she thinks Rinere is such an effective adviser. She explained that Rinere asks her about everything from her social life to her extracurricular activities and notes any changes since their last meeting. "If she sees a problem spot with you, she helps you," Habbu said. "She takes an interest in the quality of your life." While Habbu appreciates that Rinere gives "well-measured, good advice," she also explained that she doesn't pull any punches. Habbu recalled one piece of particularly straightforward guidance Rinere gave her when she wasn't studying enough during her sophomore year: "She sat me down and was like, 'This is a wake up call. Get your ass back to the books, and if you don't do this, you won't get into medical school,'" Habbu said. "My parents told me that, my brother had told me that, but having Dean Rinere tell me, 'You're an idiot, stop it' was really helpful." Assistant Dean of Advising Robert Ferraiuolo said Rinere was a "participative manager and leader" who's always willing to engage with her staff. "Whenever we're in those crunch times, in the office for endless hours, I think her presence is energizing," Ferraiuolo said. "It's always obvious that she's working as hard or harder than we are." Associate Director of Advising Monica Avitsur said Rinere isn't all work and no play—she's also an "amazing" cook (her best dishes include key lime pie and bread pudding, Avitsur said), an avid harpsichordist, and, judging by her costume last Halloween, a disco star. "She's not afraid of having fun and jumping in," Avitsur said. Habbu emphasized that Rinere's personal connection to her students makes her an effective adviser. "She just really cares," Habbu said. "She actually cares about every single person who walks into her office, which means so much." ben.gittelson@columbiaspectator.com

Over 2,000 labor and civil rights activists rallied at Riverside Church Monday night in support of a living wages act to be voted on today in the New York City Council. "The battle for a living wage in this nation is fundamentally to ensure that our children's generation is better off when ours is dead," National Association for the Advancement of Colored People President and CEO Benjamin Jealous, CC '94, said. The act, which already has enough sponsors to override a veto from Mayor Michael Bloomberg, would ensure that mall outlet employees earn at least the living wage of $10 per hour. The living wage rate passed by Bloomberg in 2002 excludes low-wage earners in the private sector. The night featured a mix of religious spirit and Occupy Wall Street-inspired solidarity. Several speakers emulated "the people's mic," an OWS amplification strategy in which the crowd repeats the speech line by line to ignite excitement about the legislation. After an homage to Martin Luther King and a wage-inspired gospel song, young leaders of the Retail Action Project shared stories of struggling on minimum wage. Activist Kimberly Ortiz said she was compelled to speak on behalf of "college graduates who can't find a job and students who can't afford to continue their education." Holding the rally in Morningside Heights was particularly significant—according to the 2010 census, the Morningside Heights and Hamilton Heights neighborhoods have the largest income disparity in New York City, with top-fifth income earners making a median of $207,053, and lowest-fifth earners making $6,073. Though local representation was strong—the master of ceremonies was Columbia assistant political science professor Dorian Warren—speakers and activists came from all five boroughs of New York City, emphasizing that bill could have a ripple effect across the rest of the state and the country. City Council member G. Oliver Koppell, a representative of the western Bronx and the main sponsor of the legislation, said, "The living wage is a small step, but an important step, in reducing wealth disparities between the richest and the poorest." Living Wage NYC, an organization that campaigns for paying workers more, organized the Riverside Church event and is leading a rally in front of the hearing this afternoon. If the act passes, the group plans to continue supporting living wage legislation until it covers all New Yorkers. "So goes economic justice in New York, so goes economic justice in the U.S.," Jealous said. news@columbiaspectator.com

Last week, one of my suitemates had a friend visit her from New Orleans. In order to do something that seemed location-appropriate for her, we watched The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, and despite my intense and irrational dislike of Brad Pitt, I will admit that the film is touchingly haunting. Particularly harrowing, I felt, was the part of the movie in which an accented Pitt says in a voiceover, "For what it's worth: it's never too late or, in my case, too early to be whoever you want to be. There's no time limit, stop whenever you want. You can change or stay the same, there are no rules to this thing. We can make the best or the worst of it. I hope you make the best of it. And I hope you see things that startle you. I hope you feel things you never felt before. I hope you meet people with a different point of view. I hope you live a life you're proud of. If you find that you're not, I hope you have the strength to start all over again." He was talking about life. Thinking back on it, though, this very easily could have been a description of the experience and frustration of a Columbia undergraduate. Maybe this is just my experience, but, as much as I complain about needing to study, I find it much easier to do that than to pry myself away from my books and laptop and head out to one of the many events held each night. One of the reasons that I chose this school was because the campus is so alive in such a variety of ways—politically, culturally, artistically, spiritually, athletically—and people representing all of the aforementioned offer something to go see. There constantly are great minds giving speeches, notable academics holding question and answer sessions, the stars of tomorrow doing some sort of performance... this list goes on and on. I meant to see them all. I meant to remain an active member of a multitude of organizations. But then the Lit Hum reading list hit. This is where Mr. Button comes in. If I want to be as engaged on this campus as possible, then that's both my right and responsibility. This is a responsibility that I take particularly seriously, because the events that I was determined enough to go to were great. I Am My Own Wife back in the fall was a theatrical feat. The talk by Jonathan Safran Foer was immensely enjoyable. I appreciate the conditions of our current economic climate because I showed up to the Undergraduate History Council's panel on economic crises throughout history. Furthermore, having organized one and been part of the organization of several other events this year, I know the heart that goes into planning them, and the heartache that comes when they're under-attended, especially because so much effort is put into making sure they're worth going to. I am writing this because I don't think I'm alone in this situation. I earnestly believe that this campus is engaged and diverse, but I also know that my fellow classmates acutely feel the burden of work. The trouble is that this workload becomes an easy scapegoat for noninvolvement. This campus is only ever going to be as active and engaging as we make it. Yes, there's work, but there's always going to be work, and To the Lighthouse will be there tomorrow (seriously—I can't seem to lose it). We can't complain about lack of campus community if we don't see what it is we're offering one another. We can't boast our passion for engagement if we aren't fully engaged. We can't say that we're enriching our minds fully inside and outside the classroom if every now and then we don't step outside. Yes, Wednesday at 8 or Tuesday at 7 is always going to be inconvenient, and perhaps we really should be reading or studying then. But if there really aren't any rules to this thing, then we should at least consider the fact that the choice is up to us. I would never advocate not doing work. I do, however, believe that we should strive for campus engagement as well as academic success. I think we each want to be that kind of Columbian. And if hours of Benjamin Button's technically stunning cinematography have taught me anything, it's that we can be whoever we want to be. And pre-frosh (because it's never too late or too early), if you're reading this: You can make the best of it or the worst of it. Benjamin and I both hope you make the best. The author is a Columbia College first-year. She is an associate editorial page editor.