Walk-out extends learning beyond classroom

Headlines on flyers displayed throughout campus read "No More Business as Usual!" It takes a closer examination to learn that these were posted by the Tufts Coalition to Oppose War on Iraq (TCOWI). Weeks ago, TCOWI announced that they will hold a one-day class moratorium the day after our country invades or bombs Iraq. It is the goal of TCOWI to suspend "business as usual" so that the Tufts community _ students, professors, and staff _ may gather in Goddard Chapel to take part in teach-ins, vigils, and protest.

Students have reacted to this announcement disapprovingly. They voiced their contempt in two viewpoints printed in the The Tufts Daily ("Professors should not be participants in walk-out" and "Walkout makes no sense" Jan. 30, 2003), and most recently in the The Primary Source ("Breach of contract" Feb. 14, 2003). All three authors noted the economic unsoundness of this plan, criticizing that students should not be wasting tuition money to skip class. Two students also noted that it would be inappropriate for professors to participate in the "walk-out," since we are paying them to teach us in a classroom.

It was discouraging to me that students became fixated on the financial details and failed to realize that learning is not confined to a classroom setting.

The job of a professor is not only to teach in a classroom, but to educate. They have passions beyond academia and they want to share them with their students. Some of our professors were in our place, as college students, during the war in Vietnam, or perhaps even during the Gulf War. There is so much we can learn from our professors, especially when we change our approach to these relationships, from one of strict student-teacher interactions to an understanding that we are both people with dynamic experiences and opinions. We are not apart from the world conflicts that ensue, nor from each other. There is so much that can be learned from dialogue and conversations that would not take place under ordinary circumstances.

When I was a junior in high school, I had a chemistry teacher who was known for his charisma, unmatched storytelling abilities, and his demanding, nearly impossible class. One Wednesday afternoon when we were supposed to have a lab, we instead sat in the poorly ventilated lecture hall and listened to one of his stories for the 90-minute double class period. My teacher was a freshman at Kent State University in 1970. He witnessed the riots that we had only heard of in history books; he explained the tension in that time better than I imagine any history lecture could. I hardly remember the details of the periodic table of elements, or the relevance of 6.02 x 10^23, but I clearly remember my teacher and the story he told us that afternoon.

What we need to consider is this: if we do go to war, can we go about business as usual? I was at another campus, part of another community on Sept. 11, 2001. No one complained of having wasted their time or money when our professor did not show up for our 11:00 class that day, or when we decided to come together and talk about our reactions to the attack instead of discussing literature in my afternoon class. Common areas of the campus _ the chapel, the student center, dormitory common rooms _ were crowded with students, faculty and staff offering condolences and trying to make sense of the tragedy.

The truth is, many of us are unsure of how we would react if we go to war. Some of us may feel strongly in favor or in opposition. I am sure that many more feel they do not know enough about the situation. The moratorium, if planned correctly, could be a unique forum for intelligent, passionate discourse about a situation that is both far removed from us, yet will drastically affect our lives. It is a tremendous opportunity to engage with peers and professors and learn _ from the experiences and opinions of others, in a setting that could teach us lessons we would never experience in a classroom. It is an opportunity for solidarity.

Maura McCarthy is a junior majoring in Child Development.