Upon students’ return from winter break, a familiar Choate Rosemary Hall seemed a little bit unfamiliar. The entire campus seemed to be playing the same unofficial guessing game: what’s different about our school? On the first day of classes, students halted outside the dining hall to gape at a brand new flat screen HDTV. And the eyes of students leaving the library were glued to the noticeably snazzier carpeting in the foyer. But through Choate’s gradual evolution, the material changes haven’t been the only ones to take the student body by surprise. The move from First Class to Outlook, the perpetuation of community lunches, and the restriction of AIM have all been equally unexpected.
Just about every change made to our campus comes with a by now familiar element of surprise. Overwhelmingly, students don’t hear about decisions until after they have already been finalized. Important modifications to Choate, both visual and otherwise, seem to materialize out of thin air, addressed and explained by the administration only after their construction or implementation. Students make up the majority of the Choate population, and yet they exert little influence in the decisions that shape the school we live and learn in.
But really, should our opinion be valued, even depended on, in the first place? Should we even have a say in the decisions that shape our community? The answer, simply, is yes.
A private school can exist only as long as there is money to fund it. While much of Choate’s budget is appropriated from alumni donations, without the addition of students’ annual tuition payments, the school would not have enough funds to continue running, much less pay for aesthetic (and sometimes superfluous) maintenance and modifications. Like most large-scale corporations, Choate is run by a board of trustees that makes many of the major decisions that shape our school and determine the direction it will take in the future. Coincidentally, members of the board are expected to be major monetary contributors to the school—and the chairman of the board is all but required to rank among the top three donors. Clearly, money speaks. And though an individual student’s annual contribution represents an insignificant fraction of Choate’s bank account, collectively, the student body represents a major source of financial backing comparable to any individual trustee. And let’s not forget students’ role, post-graduation, as faithful, donating alumni—a function that had become especially palpable this past year as Choate launches its new endowment campaign. So why do trustees, but not students, play a major role in decision making? As one of the main enablers of Choate’s continuation and improvement, students ought to be afforded influence in the way that their money is put to use. Yet the reality of things is far from this ideal.
One of the most amazing things about Choate is the tremendous sense of unity that we have on campus. When I was applying to prep schools, I was struck by the cohesiveness of the students and faculty at Choate; it was this attribute that would later persuade me to come to Choate, and not one of its rival schools. While the other prep schools I visited had the ambience of a formal institution, Choate seemed like a real community—and more importantly, a home. Most people will agree that it’s the students and faculty who really bring this campus to life; the fact that most of us reside on school grounds and live under the same rules is one of the things that really brings us together. However, it also means that we are affected immensely even by small changes made to campus and the way that the school is run. It would follow, then, that we should be allowed to have a say in the decisions that shape our daily lives. Implicit in the idea of a community is a sense of team-work and general fraternity; a community that can work together to solve problems and improve life otherwise is not only a functional community—it is usually a happy one. By implementing major decisions without the input of students and faculty, however, Choate’s administration seems to snub the very sort of cooperation and partnership that is the holding glue of a strong community like ours.
Decisions made at Choate usually seem to come from some higher administrative power, which, ironically, feels the daily impact of its own decisions less than the rest of the community does. One such example of a minority flexing its decision-making muscles was the surprise launch of twice-weekly sit-down lunches—a tired topic, perhaps, on the Op/Ed page, but still a relevant to this discussion. Though the sit-down lunches, both before and during their implementation, received overwhelmingly negative reactions from both students and faculty, neither group has had any say in its existence. In fact, Mr. Shanahan presented the idea of the lunches to the faculty in a manner that made painfully clear that, while input about the minor details was welcome, sit-down lunches would 100% be a reality in the fall of 2005—regardless of faculty reaction. Indeed, a student petition containing hundreds of names, as well as general grumbling on the part of students and faculty, seem to have had little effect. One would think that a drastic change to the daily schedule and culture of the school would be worthy of campus appraisal. Yet student (and in this case faculty) approval seemed irrelevant to the final decisions.
Future decision making in our school doesn’t have to be so one-sided. Particularly promising was an online survey soliciting student opinion on the recent withdrawal of fall examinations—but any publication of the poll results and resulting action remains to be seen. Meanwhile, when the faculty is consulted about major decisions, its responses could be put to use more often.
Choate students certainly have plenty of outlets to express their opinions. We have a student council, dorm and day student advisers, and form deans—all of whom are amenable to our ideas. My concern, however, is that we can’t express our opinions in time unless we are made aware of what’s going on in the first place. Students were never told that Mr. Shanahan was seriously considering the implementation of sit-down meals until the decision had already been made; they learned about the new computer portals and televisions only after they had been bought and installed. If the administration doesn’t tell us about its plans and ideas, how can we give any feedback? And when we do supply that feedback, it ought to merit serious appraisal. These decisions pertain to us—so our opinions should pertain to them.
