Category Archives: The Last Word

The Last Word (but only of a Chapter of Life).

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Albert Kippaby Albert Kippa, Professor Laureate of Comparative Literature, Emeritus

What can one say after a half century in the limelight attempting to profess life’s insights, share knowledge and skills, arouse curiosity, stimulate interest, as well as confess ignorance? Prudence urges silence. But it is time to turn the page, and a moment of introspection suggests acknowledgement of indebtedness and gratitude would be in order.

Fifty-four years ago I enrolled at the City College of New York and have been privileged to live and thrive in academic communities ever since. For the opportunity I am profoundly grateful to Divine Providence and the people who made a difference – my parents who not only gave me life but also guidance on how to live it; Oksana, my partner in life, love and laughter, who has been not only a devoted, indefatigable wife and mother, but also successfully pursued her own calling in education; our sons, both Muhlenberg graduates, both making a Dean’s list, one the academic Dean’s, the other the Dean of Students’ list; as well as my sister, brother, in-laws and other extended family members, and of course, my many teachers and professors, later colleagues and friends, and particularly the Muhlenberg community over the last 46 years. Among the latter, I wish to thank the members, past and present, of my department, of the many administrations, of the numerous campus programs and undertakings in which I participated, as well as my many students over the years who made my journey through professional life a truly fascinating hill and valley learning experience.

The experience did not lack memorable moments. I fondly recall presenting what I thought was an indisputable, convincing argument, to the dean, who after a short pause, simply retorted “Al, this is not heaven. This is Muhlenberg.” Noteworthy and laudable was the dedication and enthusiasm of students of German to successfully meet the challenge of staging selected scenes from Goethe’s FAUST, Part I, on the occasion of the sesquicentennial of the author’s death.

Unforgettable is the student whom I advised to consider the study of Russian to fulfill the College’s language requirement. “No,” the student replied unflinchingly, “I do not want to deal with the – eh – acrylic alphabet.” I cannot forget the admirable courage students displayed on a trip to the Soviet Union when a member of our group was detained for unspecified reasons at the Moscow airport prior to our departure for New York. For three hours they sat on the floor outside the departure gate and refused to budge until their colleague was released.

Nor will I forget the students who presented me with a copy of the then latest study of “Thank you for a year of learning and laughter in the Russian language!”

Language, literature and culture were my passion. I aspired to share it. Language is, of course, the material of literature and the carrier of culture. So allow me a few words about it.

Language aficionados have noted innumerable times that language, which grows out of life, its needs and experiences, is mankind’s most important invention. Moreover, they have been fascinated by the functions and magic of language, and have observed that language and knowledge are interdependent, indeed “indissolubly connected.”

Where would we be without language? It is after all our means of communication, our means of understanding ourselves and our fellow human beings. Paradoxical as it may seem, language can also be a barrier to those ends if we do not study our own and that of our neighbors around the world. While one may still argue about the validity of linguistic determinism, i.e. the extent to which language determines the way we think, it is fairly obvious that language affects our thinking and influences the way we perceive and remember. Moreover, our use of language conveys personal identity by revealing a great deal about ourselves, thus assuming a central integrating role across all spheres of our life.

Recent studies on the future of languages indicate that the status of English as a global language will eventually peak and suggest that the vision of English as the lingua franca of the world is no longer realistic. To be sure, English is well established and will continue to dominate scientific fields: 90% of their journals are printed in English today. But, population growth has been greater among speakers of languages other than English and is expected to stay the course, thus ultimately creating a “new linguistic order” in which monolingual speakers may find it difficult to fully participate.

The fact that you and I speak English is the luck of the draw or simply an accident of circumstance.

That does give us a linguistic advantage in today’s world. Just how well the world knows English is perhaps interestingly illustrated by a few examples of translation howlers encountered abroad. These verbal quirks often have a charm that lingers in my – and other’s – memory. We must, of course, remember that the rest of the world is far better at English than we are at German or Mandarin or Russian; it nevertheless seems hard not to smile/laugh when a hotel lobby sign alerts you to “Beware of your luggage” or to “Please leave your values at the front desk,” or a dry cleaner invites you to “Drop your trousers here for the best results,” or a launderette sign reads “Ladies, leave your clothes here and spend the afternoon having a good time.” I also enjoyed the hotel room notices that inform you “In your room you will find a minibar that is filled with alcoholics,” or in case of emergency “Evacuate yourself with the staircase.” Regrettably I never did get to ask the tailor “how’s business?” whose shop sign urged customers to “Order your summers suit now, because is big rush, and we will execute customers in strict rotation.” And how about a restaurant menu that informs you “Our wine list leaves you nothing to hope for”?

But, “hope springs eternal in the human breast…” Mr. Pope observed, and hope was and is a key concept in life and literature, “the real expression of all higher culture.” I speak here of course of literature as an art form, of works of aesthetic worth and general intellectual distinction, which are a significant reflection of life, an imaginative extension of its possibilities and offer vicarious access to the most intimate inner recesses of the human mind and soul. As such, they invite us on an expedition to compare, contrast, and expand our previous experience with life and with language. That is literature’s power – past and present. By passionately embracing its language, narrative and imagination, we broaden our horizons and thereby enrich and make us more humane human beings. In recognition of that, I tip my hat to the foresight and generosity of former Allentown banker and businessman John and his wife Fannie Saeger, who supported educational and cultural endeavors in the Lehigh Valley that included the endowed professorship in Comparative Literature at Muhlenberg. Due to inflation, the chair is now what the Germans call a “Titel ohne Mittel” (a title without means); the College could use more friends like the Saegers today.

To be born within days of the outbreak of World War Two would hardly seem auspicious. And it was not at the outset. Bombardments, ruins, fear, hunger, suffering, deaths and insecurity are one part of my earliest memories; but, caring and courageous parents are another. Moreover, I grew up bilingually, acquiring command of Russian and Ukrainian the natural way, and subsequently learned first German and then English the “hard” way – initially through formal instruction, then via total immersion. As such I understood the challenges Muhlenberg’s students were facing in their efforts to acquire second language skills. My challenge – met with varying degrees of success – was to convince them of the discipline and dedication needed to do well. The Muhlenberg Weekly headlined in my second year of teaching at Muhlenberg (“Mill Hill” in German) “Kipa animates language class, stresses responsible ‘freedom’.” At times some students subsequently would portray me as “authoritarian” or as a “slave driver,” although I only expected accountability from them.

During the 46 years of my tenure at Muhlenberg, I saw the College grow and prosper from local to semi-national prominence. Its strength was rooted in its students and faculty. The latter’s diversity in academic preparation and pedagogical methodology provided a variety of learning experiences for the former. The College in turn supported the faculty’s scholarly endeavors to foster its intellectual and interdisciplinary growth.

At the conclusion of these not particularly sophisticated, but rather sentimental reminiscences, I wish to repeat my sincere thank you, danke schön, дякую, спасибо, merci beaucoup, muchos gratias, gracie, tak sa myket… to the members of the Muhlenberg community for the privilege and opportunities accorded me during the past 46 years, and to extend my wishes for health, wealth and good cheer – as well as the time to enjoy all three! in the years ahead in the important work of advancing and transmitting knowledge and cultivating new generations of intellectually curious and passionately engaged independent young people striving toward a humane and safer world for us all.

News from the Front: College Admissions in the 21st Century

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As I write this, we are in the home stretch of one admissions cycle, and at the front end of another. Our acceptance letters and financial aid packages are in the mail to high school seniors, and we are already hosting dozens of high school juniors each day for tours, interviews and information sessions.

That’s the pattern in college admissions these days, where the cycles increasingly overlap. Juniors are out looking even as seniors are in final decision-making mode. And ambitious tenth graders are often out to get an early looksee at a few college campuses, and already using online resources to begin exploring colleges.

It’s a multi-layered, sometimes chaotic scene in college admissions currently. Add a financial aid system nationwide that increasingly resembles the wild west, with no single set of rules, and lots of institutions doing whatever they feel they must to gain advantage at the top end, or simply to get a class at the bottom end, and the potential for student and parent confusion is huge.

It doesn’t get a lot clearer on the college side. What used to be viewed as the “higher education marketplace” has now fractured into many “micro-markets.” About 40% of college-going students are now starting at two-year community colleges. Another 39% are starting a four-year public universities and colleges. About 7% are attending for-profit institutions. Which leaves about 14% of the market for private higher education—and that is a market share that is distributing itself across a market segment that stretches from ultra-wealthy, uber-selective elites all the way to tiny, struggling privates whose future may be in doubt.

The good news for Muhlenberg in the midst of this fractured, brutally competitive marketplace is that we experienced another record admissions year in the most recent cycle, breaking the 5,000 application barrier for the first time in our history. What matters for colleges like Muhlenberg is the ability to communicate value—and it has to be value that prospective students and parents care about— and then to consistently live up to the value that has been communicated.

Happily for us, many of the things Muhlenberg is good at are also things that the marketplace cares about. For example, the deep sense of community and connection on campus is something that students and parents often comment about, and something that can tip the balance of a college decision. Likewise, our emphasis on excellent teaching and on intense, collaborative student-faculty relationships makes a difference for many students. Finally, our curricular embrace of both the classical liberal arts and sciences together with a number of strong pre-professional programs is something that is especially attractive in this economic climate.

There are particular academic strengths as well, from theatre arts and dance to biology and pre-health, and from psychology and neuroscience to business or English. Our very real strength across a broad academic waterfront is important in the competitive climate in which we find ourselves. Co-curricular strengths, such as strong Jewish life, strong Catholic life, six acapella singing groups, our own strong student EMT group, the Muhlenberg-Jefferson School project, and many other facets of campus life also speak to a wide array of important student interests.

Life is likely to get even more complicated for both prospective college students, and the colleges they are considering, as we move deeper into the 21st century. The economics of higher education is difficult for all involved, and some predict the center cannot hold. The marketplace will continue to splinter into smaller and more highly specialized segments.

Students will be challenged to make sense of the choices facing them, and how to pay for whatever they choose. Colleges will be challenged to clearly outline their own value and to live up to that value every day in order to continue to earn their place in a competitive world in which they are under increasing scrutiny.

For Muhlenberg, one of the goals must be to really know ourselves, to understand the world in which we live and compete, and to understand why students choose us and what they value most about us. We must also continue to strengthen our value proposition, and to live up to our own values of community, connection, excellent teaching, active learning, and powerful outcomes every day. Muhlenberg has carved out an important niche in a demanding world. We do some things very well that the world cares about and will support.

Our progress on the admissions front is both a product of the College’s performance and a reflection of our sense of ourselves and our ability to deliver for our students. It’s important work—for the future of our college and the future of our students—and there are miles to go before we sleep!

The Last Word

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It’s not the Red Doors, although those are nice. It’s not the close-knit community, which is there and much better than the alternative. It’s not the diversity, yet that is desirable and growing. None of these things made Muhlenberg for me. It’s vocation that makes Muhlenberg what it is.

The word vocation grows out of the Latin vocare, “to call.” Many religions have an understanding of vocation, but it is the Lutherans who have a special curiosity about living one’s vocation. For Lutherans, vocation drives a person to hear a call, follow it, and spend a life trying to understand it. Vocation is not solely a “religious thing.” It operates through many walks of life – relationships, employment, and studies. It calls to us, beckons us, and yearns for us. It touches all of us, whether we desire it to or not.

During my years at Muhlenberg, and because of the nature of my job, people told me things. I’ve appreciated that trust. A student once revealed that the medical track that was expected had given way to an arts dream that had to be pursued. Another once confided that leaving Muhlenberg was the only way to pursue the major that was burning inside. This is what vocation does with a person – it calls to them until they must follow. The call comes not from the outside, but from within.

Some think that changes like those are a sign of failure and that Muhlenberg should work harder to retain these students. No. These are success stories, not failures. Muhlenberg does well to be open to these types of decisions. President Helm often quotes Plutarch to the incoming students at Opening Convocation – “The mind is not a vessel to be filled, but a fire to be kindled.” Bravo, Muhlenberg, for having the courage to reject the rote rehearsal of family and cultural expectations that demand allegiance to conformity.

Vocation doesn’t stop there. Vocation is often linked to passion but if it were merelypassion, it would have no power at all. Passion burns out quickly; it is fine for a sports fan, an amateur painter, or a wedding night, but it isn’t sustainable. It comes and goes, has its own agenda, and has little regard for its host. Sometimes passion causes more harm than good, clouding judgment, trading the endurance of commitment for the fire of the moment. Vocation, the call, sustains and remains. It is in no hurry, and is tempered by time and patience. It cajoles, haunts, and demands. It sometimes makes “passion” an eagerly anticipated alternative, but even this isn’t it for Muhlenberg.

People have shared powerful truths about themselves. Truths from deep within, only occasionally revealing themselves, but always there, looking for some relief, some outlet, some companionship that assuages it’s loneliness and gives it voice. These are the truths that we all bear, the truths about ourselves that vocation seeks to release, if we aren’t afraid. The call is only part of the action of vocation, the real work is the submission, the waiting, the patience to see where it will go and the courage to stick with it. It isn’t enough to hear a call, you have to do something, prove it to yourself and to your sense of yourself. That takes work.

Where does Muhlenberg fit in all of this? The College not only encourages vocation, but it has one itself, one that it struggles with, and continues to grow into each day. I’ve been most impressed with the College when it has held on to its people lightly, just enough to catch the unexpected fall, but not so much as to interrupt the growth that comes from the fall itself. The College is at its best when it holds us like small birds – enough to give a chance to grow, but not enough to prohibit flying.

Vocation holds us like that – if we’ll let it.

The College, since the time of its founding, is at its best when it seeks less to create and control, but has the courage to let go, step back, and watch creation happen in its midst. That is the College’s vocation.

Muhlenberg is a great place because it knows this, but needs to remind itself to trust that impulse. Muhlenberg has been generous enough to hold me and my family just that gently – to discover what we needed to become ourselves, and, when the time came, to fly.

Muhlenberg has done this for thousands before us and will do so far into the future. I’ve learned virtually everything I know about vocation from my time at Muhlenberg, and so this is my last offering to you. The College’s vocation is to be steadfast as vocation calls to all of her charges. It’s not the Red Doors, or the community, or the diversity that is vocation, but all of these things emerge from it. A call heard more than 160 years ago, a call to proclaim and demonstrate grace in the world, is what drives Muhlenberg to be what it is, and always will be. Thank you friends, for everything.

Keep listening.

Bredlau began his tenure as Muhlenberg’s chaplain in 2000. He left to pursue a new career in business.