Provost Sol Gittleman's resignation signifies a great loss and leaves a tremendous void in the Tufts administration. As a longtime leader, Gittleman represents not only a wealth of knowledge, but is an icon of the University on which he has left an indelible mark.
Gittleman began his Tufts career as a German professor in 1964, and in 1981 became provost, the second-highest University position, overseeing the academic operations of Tufts' seven schools. Though he intends to continue teaching after his replacement is found, humbly ending his career where it started, Gittleman's transition is clearly the beginning of the inevitable end of his legendary tenure.
From his incredibly popular Yiddish Literature class to his well-known obsession with baseball, Gittleman is a symbol for students past and present. Alumni and parents flock back, year after year, to hear him speak, and students of all ages turn to him for letters of recommendation and Tufts history lessons. He is a living Tufts figurehead, sent to all corners of the globe to represent the University. Celebrity alumni reference his class when they speak of their undergraduate experience.
But most irreplaceable of his attributes is his intimate knowledge of Tufts. Through four decades of dramatic change, Gittleman has been an indispensable fixture at this university, serving three presidents, and helping turn Tufts from a locally attended New England college into an internationally renowned University.
Though the Provost's office sits next to the Office of the University President in Ballou Hall, the two positions could not differ more. Unlike the president, who focuses on fundraising, Gittleman is in day to day contact with all aspects of the University, alternately teaching a freshman English section and holding high-level administrative meetings with Tufts deans. While reading freshman essays and assisting President Bacow in restructuring the top-heavy administration, Gittleman has consistently made time to interact with students. From participating in dorm discussions to hosting annual Friday afternoon gatherings where graduating seniors are invited to his home, Gittleman has been in the middle of life on campus. Even at night, when he leaves Ballou, he does not leave campus, but rather returns to his home, located on the corner of Professors Row and Latin Way, a stone's throw away from the campus center.
Though Gittleman's shoes are impossible to fill, he has done more than his share to bring the University to the strongest position in its 150-year history. Students will surely benefit from his limited role as a faculty member and mentor next year, but as he gradually leaves the University altogether, Tufts will miss his never-ending knowledge, baseball trivia, and general spirit.
