Interview with Charles Murray

In conjunction with his visit to Kenyon, American Enterprise Institute scholar in residence Charles Murray took some time to answer some of our editors’ questions relating to academic and political pursuits, rigor and debate.

TKO: It is possible for two people to view the same data and come up with very different causal stories to explain them. When you see data showing class separation, what are some of the possible causal stories that can be derived from said data, what is your interpretation and why do you consider it preferable to the interpretations of others?

CM: It’s not only possible, it happens all the time, and the reasons for the different causal interpretations are usually related to the analyst’s assumptions about human nature and often also related to the analyst’s first principles about human flourishing. That’s why it ought to be standard operating procedure for social scientists to do two things in every journal article and book they write. First, explicitly segregate the statement of the data from the interpretation of causes. And second, tell the reader where you’re coming from. So if you look at the opening of Part 3 of Coming Apart, you’ll see me saying to the reader, “I’m a libertarian, so I think these data constitute a call for limited government. If you’re a social democrat, you’ll think they’re a call for an expanded welfare state.” If you go back to Losing Ground or The Bell Curve, you’ll see the same kind of thing: chapters explicitly devoted to the presentation of data with no causal analysis, then a section of causal analysis accompanied by an explanation of the frame of mind I bring to that analysis. What gripes me is that you never see the same kind of straightforward statement in social science from the Left: “By the way, you should understand as you read me that I’m a passionately committed social democrat.” I explicitly avoided causal analyses for the formation of the new lower class in Coming Apart because I wanted the book to be one that people of the left could read. And it seems to have worked. For example, Nicholas Kristof felt free to write a column in the New York Times saying that I was talking about a real problem, even though my politics are nuts. For the record, I stand by the analysis of causes from Losing Ground. Answering your question more fully would take several thousand words of the Observer, so I’ll pass.

TKO: You have said before that too many people are going to college. Why?

First, genuine college-level material makes cognitive demands, even in the humanities and social sciences, that mean only about 10 to 15 percent of high school graduates can do well in college – not just struggle through, but flourish. About half of all high school graduates enter college. Something’s wrong with that picture. Second, the BA has become a credential of first class citizenship at the same time that it has become substantively meaningless. If the only thing you know about a person is that he has a BA, you don’t even know if he can write a coherent sentence. In effect, we’re saying to 17-year-olds, “You have a choice between a respectable white collar job or working at Wal-Mart.” We sneer at training in all the other ways of making a living that can be satisfying, absorbing, and yield a damn good income as “vocational training.” We’re saying that you have to go to a residential institution, stay there four years and spend a fortune so you can get a piece of paper that doesn’t say a thing about what you know. It’s idiotic and punishing to a huge proportion of young people.

TKO: Do the members of the “cognitive elite,” as you call them, have social obligations extending beyond utilizing their cognitive and economic potential to the fullest?

CM: Yes. And they’re failing in those obligations miserably.

TKO: Can you speak a bit about the “cognitive sorting” you described in Chapter 5 of Coming Apart? In educational discourse in this country, this feature is usually viewed as an unmitigated virtue; we want our schools to evaluate applicants only based on intelligence, to the extent possible. Do we need to give up this ideal, or is it possible to have meritocratic schools while bridging the gap between students in other ways?

CM: It’s one of those cases where a good thing – giving kids with talent a chance to realize their talent no matter what their backgrounds may be – has long-term collateral consequences that are problematic. The feminist revolution is another classic case. It doesn’t mean that we should stop sending the most intellectually talented students to good schools or that women shouldn’t have gotten a chance to realize their talents. Sometimes positive social trends have negative side-effects. That’s just a fact, and it’s important to ponder what might be done to mitigate them.

TKO: Some critics and reviewers, even those sympathetic to the book’s claims, have called your policy proposals implausible and idealistic. What are a few politically viable and practically feasible policies that can start to bridge the gap between the classes? Or, are these critics mistaken?

CM: I don’t think I’ve ever offered a politically viable policy recommendation. It’s almost become a point of pride, but the underlying reason is pretty simple: I can never think of any politically viable policy recommendations that would do any good.

TKO: You’ve heavily criticized the conventional wisdom that increased funding for pre-kindergarten programs would greatly improve outcomes. Why?

CM: Because the conventional wisdom is wrong. The data for long-term effects of pre-K from a program that could be implemented nationwide are terribly weak. Even the data from the most intensive interventions aren’t nearly as solid or as impressive as the advocates make them out to be. If the quantity and quality of data being used to justify universal pre-K were evidence for any less politically fashionable venture, they would be dismissed out of hand.

TKO: There was a bit of debate in Kenyon’s community in anticipation of your talk. Some were concerned that hosting you at Kenyon signaled some kind of approval of ideas which they found to be beyond the pale of reasonable discourse; others saw these complaints as inhibiting free intellectual exchange, and as not befitting an academic institution. As you’ve spoken at college campuses throughout the country and during your career, what is your sense of the attitudes of elite students (and their professors) to ideas which they find objectionable or offensive? Have you found changes in these attitudes over the years?

CM: With a handful of exceptions right after the publication of The Bell Curve, I’ve had a good time speaking on elite campuses. The interactions with the students in the Q&A have been serious and mutually respectful. The campus newspaper coverage the next day usually is to the effect that this kind of intellectual interchange is what universities are supposed to be all about. I would have thought that this kind of track record would eventually make me a hot ticket on the college speaking circuit, but it hasn’t happened. I don’t think it is students who think I am beyond the pale, but college administrators.

Why Immigration Reform is an LGBTQ+ Issue

“In the midst of a tremendously historic week for our community, two unfortunate incidents at the United for Marriage event at the Supreme Court last week have caused pain in the community. In one case, a trans activist was asked to remove the trans pride flag from behind the podium, and in another, a queer undocumented speaker was asked to remove reference to his immigration status in his remarks.”

So begins the apology issued by Human Rights Campaign representative and VP of Communications and Marketing, Fred Sainz, whose remarks reference two incidents which occurred during rallies for marriage equality held outside of the Supreme Court at the end of last month. The apology goes on to assure the HRC’s unwavering commitment to trans* equality and promises that the organization will do better in the future – a promise which the HRC has failed to live up to so far in the eyes of many in the queer community. For an organization whose mission statement claims that the HRC “strives to end discrimination against LGBT citizens and realize a nation that achieves fundamental fairness and equality for all,” it is clear why this incident, which seems to affirm the criticism the HRC has received in the past for not adequately representing LGBTQ people, is in discord with whom the HRC claims to represent. However, while the HRC did reiterate their “commitment to make transgender equality a reality,” in the recently issued apology, they failed to mention the previously mentioned undocumented speaker…until just a few days ago.

On April 4, the HRC put out a press release in which they state that immigration reform will now be an “organizational priority” within the HRC, joining other progressive organizations in linking immigration reform to LGBTQ+ issues. Other examples include the Center for American Progress’ subsidiary, out4citizenship.org, which urges visitors to pledge to support undocumented people who fall on the LGBTQ+ spectrum, along with the activist group, the National Gay and Lesbian Task Force, which months ago made clear their support of President Obama’s announcement of inclusive immigration reform.

However, there have been some questions and resistance to LGBT groups’ inclusion of immigration reform as a priority within their organizations. For example, in his article “Is undocumented immigration a gay issue?“, John Aravosis of AMERICAblog critiques the characterization of immigration reform as a “gay issue,” commenting:

If the simple definition of a gay issue is any issue that has L, G, B and T people impacted by it, then every issue is a gay issue, because gay people are quite literally everywhere.  For example, funding for Multiple Sclerosis affects the percentage of gay people that have Multiple Sclerosis, or know someone with it.  Military funding affects gay people in the military.  Farm subsidies affect gay farmers. Tax reform affects all gay people, since we all pay taxes.

But, immigration reform is different than Multiple Sclerosis or military funding in this respect. There are many aspects and policy implications of the issue that DO make it a “gay issue:”

First, which Mr. Aravosis mentioned, is the issue of marriage equality. The article doesn’t dispute this:

…the issue of foreign-born gays marrying American gays and not having their marriages recognized by the US government, thus the foreign-born spouse gets deported, is clearly a ‘gay’ issue.”

This is undoubtedly true: even if a same-sex couple gets married in one of the few states in which marriage equality exists, since marriage equality is not nationally recognized, that could still lead to deportation for the undocumented spouse and they would be unable to obtain a “green card,” separating couples and families and making the difficult process of becoming documented even more difficult simply because their relationship is not nationally recognized as being equal to a heterosexual marriage. Furthermore, while President Obama has made clear that he wants gay couples to be treated equally under any immigration reform laws, there has been pushback from the GOP, and so it is necessary for LGBTQ groups to get involved with immigration reform in order to live up to their ideals of representing queer people living in the United States, as well as globally.

There is also the issue of people seeking asylum because they face persecution in their countries for being on the LGBTQ spectrum, and that they are unable to gain entry into the United States because of the current asylum laws which require people to prove their homosexuality, or that there is a threat of danger at home. Since 2011, the United States has mandated that in order for someone to gain asylum from persecution, the “applicant’s homosexuality must be socially visible.” This not only relies on extreme stereotyping and is horrifically unfair to the many multitude of people on the LGBTQ+ spectrum who do not fit in to the mold of traditional stereotypes, but also leaves incredible room for interpretation and the opportunity for inconsistent rulings on who is eligible for asylum. Further, in the United States, “Gay applicants must marshal evidence of their sexual orientation and their risk of persecution, like affidavits from same-sex partners or police and medical reports of abuse.” Requiring someone to provide evidence of their sexual orientation not only places an incredibly difficult burden on asylum-seeking individuals, but could also realistically be impossible in countries where homosexuality is illegal, and sometimes punishable by death. While there certainly must be some form of screening process for those seeking asylum in the United States, this current procedure is unreasonable and unsatisfactory, and further suggests the need for the LGBTQ+ community to be involved in the process of immigration reform.

Additionally, I would like to suggest that there is an inherent difference between, say, funding for Multiple Sclerosis, and issues like immigration reform. Social justice issues such as LGBTQ+ rights and immigration reform have the same component of social identification and marginalization and are intrinsically linked to each other. “Gay rights” does not exist inside a bubble, and the combined discrimination that a person faces because of their queer status in addition to their undocumented status, or their gender, class, race, ethnicity, etc. are not separable, and should be recognized and addressed as such within LGBTQ+ activist organizations. It makes sense that these groups, which are first and foremost fighting for human and civil rights, would also support immigration reform, which is an issue of human and civil rights.

There are many issues that affect the LGBTQ+ community, but only so much energy and so many voices to go round. What’s wrong with activist organizations choosing to get behind specific causes which are inherently linked to queer issues, particularly ones such as immigration reform which are so time-sensitive, and so incredibly important, right now?

People are deeply affected by both of these issues, and organizations like the HRC have a wide support base and access to funding that would allow them to assist those members of the queer community who are at the most vulnerable right now. And, when the mission of an organization is to serve as a representative for the larger LGBTQ+ community, and work towards achieving equality for all of the individuals within that community, that organization has a responsibility to give the opportunity to speak to those whose voices are too often silenced and ignored.

Lessons From Steubenville

Trigger Warning: The following includes descriptions and links to content that may serve as a trigger for victims of sexual violence.

For four consecutive years I’ve attended the training session necessary to host parties on this campus. Most often, when I’ve worked campus parties I have been assigned to serve as a door worker, or as a“floater.” A floater is technically someone assigned to keep their eyes and ears on the party and ensure a safe environment which complies with the regulations outlined in the Student Handbook, the College’s party policy, and the set of expectations outlined on the Event Registration forms one fills out before a party can be held. 

What I can’t get over, in the wake of the recent conviction of two students in Steubenville, OH, is that sexual assault was never mentioned; neither in any of those training sessions I attended, to my memory, nor is it explicitly mentioned in the protocols governing party hosting.

Why is that a problem? The campus has a clearly written, (if at times controversial) sexual misconduct policy. Shouldn’t that be sufficient? Here’s why I beg to differ:

Every 21 hours someone is raped on an American college campus. Furthermore, 90% of all campus rapes occur under the influence of alcohol. If you’re in college or you’ve been in college, chances are you know someone who has been sexually assaulted or raped. The chances that they knew their perpetrator prior to the attack are at least as likely.

 

How many Jane Doe’s have you laughed at as they stumbled away from a party instead of seeing if they needed help? Has anyone you’ve known wondered, had regrets about if they should’ve followed through on a hook-up because of their partner’s level of intoxication? Have you? How many people, if assaulted, don’t tell anyone (let alone press charges), because they’re embarrassed or ashamed, because they think it’s their fault? Ever seen a couple dancing and wondered if they’re both actually “into it?”

 

If you’re shocked by the images that went viral across the internet, if you’re horrified and stunned that anyone could treat a peer that way, if you’re offended, outraged that the media would place more emphasis on the consequences for the accused than the trauma endured by their victim, you’re not paying attention.

 

But isn’t the DFMO and the drunken hookup just how college is these days? Here’s the issue: When we hear stories like those of the young woman in Steubenville, it’s easy to mark the case and the role alcohol played in it as exceptional. She was clearly passed out, so the morality of such an act can’t possibly be questioned, right? But what happens when s/he’s not passed out, when s/he’s black-out, when s/he’s brown-out, when s/he’s tipsy? The law is very clear; any decent code of conduct is clear: intoxication means non-consent. I think it’s safe to say that the overwhelming majority of people in our community agree that rape is a bad thing. But how many people truly recognize that jokes, comments, and song lyrics about sex, alcohol and partying necessarily contribute to a culture that tacitly or explicitly obfuscates the definition of rape?

 

The message to college students should be clear and be supported by educational programming and dialogue-fostering events made possible both through student activism and initiatives undertaken by the administration. This year’s performance of Real World Gambier during First Year Orientation was an excellent example of that sort of messaging. Of course, much simpler steps can be taken as well. The freshman hall cliche of the buddy system is neither as obsolete nor as childish as its reputation.

For Kenyon students, a major takeaway from the media-saturated rape trial in Steubenville may be this: our understanding of participating and engaging in a community must include stepping in if the safety of a peer is in question. To put it in the language of party training here, everyone can and should be a floater. See something? Say something. I’d much rather be a “cock-block” than stay silent, and I reserve my right, and recognize my duty to do so as long as Kenyon students don’t feel safe. If nothing else, hopefully Steubenville can serve as a wake-up call. Every single member of this community can contribute to a shift in the way sexuality, alcohol, and safe behavior interact on this campus. There are lots of questions to be raised surrounding this issue, but here are a simple few with which we may begin:

“Hey, want me to grab you some water?”

“Can I call SafeRides for you?”

“Are you ok?”

Event Recap: Graham Priest Lecture

Event: Larwill Lecture in Philosophy: Graham Priest
Date: February 25th 2013
Location: Higley Auditorium
Correspondent: Andrew Stewart

Professor Graham Priest of the University of Melbourne and the CUNY Graduate Center visited Kenyon this week, giving a Philosophy Department Larwill Lecture. His visit, significantly hyped in philosophy and math circles here at Kenyon, did not disappoint.

Priest is well-known (and infamous) for his work in paraconsistent logic. Such systems oppose the “explosive” theory of logic, which is associated with the so-called “classical” (early-20th century) logic currently taught in textbooks. According to the explosive theory, say that some contradiction, “A and not-A,” is true. Using the rules of classical logic, one can use this premise to prove any proposition at all, including that the world is round, the world is flat, and 3+4=128. Consequently, classical logicians feel they have good reason to avoid contradictions at all costs. Paraconsistent systems of logic oppose the explosive theory. Within such systems, it is not the case that any old contradiction can be used to prove absolutely anything. In a typical paraconsistent system, propositions have one of three truth-values: “True,” “False,” or “True and False.” Yes, you read me right: there are systems of logic that actually allow (some) contradictions.

Considering Priest advocates a departure from classical logic that is, at least at first glance, so radical, it is not surprising that Priest’s lecture topic was “Revising Logic.” He began his talk by reassuring the audience that there would be “no squiggles involved” and that no background in formal logic was necessary to understand what he had to say. This was a talk in the philosophy of logic, not logic proper. He kept his promise: there were no squiggles! Nevertheless, a bit more background in epistemology and semantics would have been helpful for understanding his finer points, as some of his concluding arguments went a bit over my head.

A common move in contemporary debates on logic is to claim that logic cannot be revised. Priest argued that revision has happened in the past and continues to be possible. He discussed the potential for revision in three different types of logic: logica docens (what is taught in logic textbooks), logica utens (what we actually use), and logica ens (logic in itself: the “truth” about logic). Priest’s first contention was that Western logic has, in fact, changed a great deal over time, particularly during chunks of activity in ancient Greece, the Middle Ages, and the early 20th century. The concept of explosion, for example, does not go all the way back the ancient Greeks: it was first articulated during the Middle Ages, neglected, and then rediscovered in the 20th century.

Priest argued that many past revisions to logics extended their application and relevance. For future revisions to be rational, logicians should remember that a given logica docens is essentially a theory to compare to other logics. Changes ought to be based on criteria such as unifying power, adequacy to data, and simplicity. As for logica utens–the use of logic–it should stay in line as much as possible with the theory provided by logica docens. Some particular situations, though, might call for use of a slightly different logic for practical reasons. As for logica ens, or the truth of logic, Priest claimed that it might be revisable, or perhaps not, depending on one’s standard for what constitutes validity.

I would imagine that lectures on logic have a tendency to become dry, but Priest’s talk was both accessible and captivating. He was enthusiastic, articulate, and relaxed. Rather than doing injustice to intricate issues by trying to provide all of the answers in a short time, he presented an appropriate amount of material, leaving many questions open. Though his talk was fairly general and did not get into the details of alternative logics, I think his topic is critical to a clearer understanding of academic discourse. Very often, we think of logic as a set of unchanging rules to which one must appeal to produce a valid argument. The notion that there can be revision and progress in logic might change the relationship of other disciplines to it. Revision also reveals that the particular discipline of logic has just as much of a demand for innovation as other fields. More broadly, revision might also challenge certain things we thought we could take for granted about the connections between language, mathematics, and the structure of the universe. Or maybe not. Or maybe both.

Kenyon Already Has a Code of Honor

“…correct models and standards are set lest the worst social and moral patterns become impressed upon and stand for all the students of the community. It is with this…point in mind that Kenyon affirms basic standards of behavior that cannot be disregarded with impunity.”

The introduction to the Kenyon College Student Handbook (adopted in 1964 and revised in 1972) describes the moral and social reasoning behind the regulations that are outlined in the proceeding pages. This redefines our rules as values, which carry more weight because “patterns of student attitudes and conduct have even more far-reaching implications…when one remembers that students determine the character of the entire community.” When individual students behave honorably, our community as a whole is honorable.

Moreover, and unlike the proposed Honor Code, the rules outlined in the Student Handbook are backed up by consequences for non-compliance, providing a mechanism for enforcing honorable moral and social behavior. Moral guidelines are not adhered to out of convenience, and it takes more than a pinky-swear to ensure compliance. It is in this Rousseau-ian sense of moral freedom that we check our raw self-interest by setting laws that reflect our values and coercing ourselves into adherence.

With this in mind, I would ask readers what value a consequence-free wink-and-nod at Kenyon’s values would add to our existing standards for honorable behavior. As we consider whether to add an non-binding Honor Code on top of our existing value structure, I would encourage all Kenyon students to read their Handbook and see if anything’s missing. If you, like me, forgot where you put your Student Handbook, you can check it out at the link below:

http://documents.kenyon.edu/studentlife/studenthandbook.pdf

Event Recap: The Kenyon Torah (Lecture and Discussion)

Event: The Kenyon Torah (Lecture and Discussion)
Date: February 12th 2013
Location: Gund Gallery
Correspondent: Jessica Lieberman

On Tuesday, February 12th, Peter Haas, visiting professor of Jewish studies from Case Western Reserve University, presented his research on what he termed “The Mysterious Torah of Knox County, Ohio.”  This discussion of the Kenyon Torah falls under the umbrella of the year-long symposium run through the Kenyon Review and the Gund Gallery, which raises questions of Art and Identity in light of the challenges of post-Holocaust cultural ownership.  After being introduced by Religious Studies professor Miriam Dean-Otting, Haas outlined his approach to the Torah.  An anthropologist by training, he identified the various layers of complicated symbolism which lead to the object’s unique personality.

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The crux of his concerns had to with the Torah’s mysterious history.  The scroll was purchased and donated to Kenyon under the assumption that it had survived the Holocaust.  Although the Torah did in fact come from eastern-Europe and hence could possibly have survived the Holocaust, the specific narrative that had been connected with the scroll was invented by the scribe who restored it, Rabbi Menachem Youlus. However, apart from the legal and political complexities of this scandal, more interesting moral and symbolic ambiguities linger over the scroll.   This misuse of the memory and trauma of the Holocaust raises serious questions as to how to treat both the scribe and the Torah.  That is, in the Judaic tradition, the Torah scribe (the sofer) is granted great respect for his dedication to G-d and his teachings (the text of the Torah).  The job is not a glamorous one, but rather a  precise and arduous labor (it can take years to finish a Torah) that is undertaken for reasons of religious zeal and interest in the continuity of tradition.  Therefore Youlus’ misrepresentation of the holy book has inspired a kind of cognitive dissonance (in Haas’ terms) in the Jewish community at large.

However, perhaps more pertinent to the Kenyon community is the question of the Torah itself and how, if at all, its meaning and sacrality have been altered by these events.  Haas approached the question of the Torah’s nuanced meaning through a sort of stratigraphical mapping its symbolism.  He began by explaining the symbolism which surrounds all Torot.  The Torah is both central and essential to the Jewish tradition.  The object is the most sacred in the religion and the contents of the scroll constitute the core narratives and values of Judaism.   The next layer that Haas urged the audience to consider was the symbolism created by the Torah’s purchase.  Despite the developments which would come out later, the Torah was purchased and received under the understanding that it had survived the Holocaust.  That gesture in itself speaks volumes to the commitment of its donors to Judaic history and practice.   Thus, Haas argued that rather than viewing the Torah as tainted by the profanity of human-wrong doing, we should appreciate it as having a complicated engagement with a human history that is flawed.  From this perspective, Haas argued that we should approach the events surrounding the Torah as a teaching moment, a notion which couldn’t seem more appropriate to me, given that the word Torah itself is commonly translated as “teaching,” and that the text puts forth a definition of Judaism that holds the struggle for identity through narrativizing at its very core.

Event Recap: The Prep School Negro Screening…When Otherness Follows.

Event: The Prep School Negro: a film by André Robert Lee
Date: February 11th 2013
Location: Gund Gallery
Correspondent: Andrew Firestone

In September of 1952, Bill Lowry left Chicago and headed east to Gambier, Ohio to begin his first year at Kenyon College. By the end of his first week, he had walked onto the football team, and by the end of his four years, Lowry would go on to letter in football, baseball and basketball. Throughout his time at Kenyon while excelling academically, athletically and socially, one aspect of Bill Lowry’s identity outwardly defined him: he was one of eight African-American students that graduated in the 1950s.

One weekend in late April of last year, Lowry returned to Kenyon for one of his last visits to the hill as a member of the Board of Trustees. I was lucky enough to meet him at a Diversity Advisory Council meeting. As a group, we read through a number of anonymous student narratives and discussed their unfiltered experiences.

One narrative recreated a scene in which two white students entered Peirce when one of them blurted out, “why do all of the black kids sit together, that shit really pisses me off…” After we all finished reading the narrative Bill Lowry started chuckling, his lips curling into a smile, “back when I was a student nobody talked about a black table – there were only three of us!”

Monday evening filmmaker and producer Andre Robert Lee visited Kenyon for a screening and discussion of his documentary, provocatively titled, The Prep School Negro. In the film, Lee addresses the experience of entering a private high school as a student of color, and related themes of the intersections of race, class and private education. In the discussion following the screening, Lee admitted that remembering his journey through Germantown Friends School in Philadelphia allowed him to deeply reflect on the multiple layers of his identity.

As a white student at Kenyon I cannot personally speak to the experience of being a student of color. Rather, I spoke with some students who attended the screening of The Prep School Negro and asked them if the subject of the film applied to their experiences at Kenyon. One student explained that, “as a student of color I find myself often having to answer questions about my identity. Much like my time at prep school, my experience at Kenyon has made me the other. Although I love the people here and appreciate my time here, the reality of my otherness, my identity as one of a few female students of color on campus, follows me everywhere I go.”

I will never know what that feels like. I can read The Souls of Black Folk an infinite number of times but I will never be able to fully appreciate W.E.B. Du Bois’s reflection on the reality of the double-consciousness projected onto people of color. But that does not mean that the subject of The Prep School Negro and the legacy of Bill Lowry’s Kenyon career are irrelevant to me or to other white students.

Andre Robert Lee’s film suggests that one definition of agency is the ability to name one’s self. As long as some students do not feel that they are seen as individuals, it is our responsibility to continue to reflect on the nuanced layers of all of our identities. It has been almost sixty years since Bill Lowry graduated from Kenyon. Since then, the first class of women matriculated in 1969, and the student body has continued to evolve. It has been these additions to the Kenyon community that have strengthened its bonds and revised its mission. Therefore, as we move forward, it is our obligation to carry on this legacy.