JUDITH RODIN'S ADDRESS
ON HER
INAUGURATION AS PRESIDENT
OF THE
UNIVERSITY OF PENNSYLVANIA
OCTOBER 21, 1994
_____________________________________________________________________
Trustees, faculty, students and staff, honored guests from other
universities, alumni, friends of Penn:
Today, it is my honor and privilege to take my place as the seventh
president of the University of Pennsylvania, and formally to accept
responsibility for its leadership.
Today I want to share with you my vision of Penn's past, present and
future.
As a biological and social psychologist, it was natural for me to prepare
for this day by researching Penn's genetic material. It begins, of course,
with our founder Benjamin Franklin, the ultimate visionary and pragmatist.
Every other college in the colonies rigidly adhered to the European model
of teaching classics. Franklin pushed for a curriculum that gave equal
stress to the scientific and the contemporary. He made English the
language of college discourse, not Greek and Latin. He established Penn
alone as non-sectarian among the eight pre-revolutionary colleges.
Franklin was an able theoretician but saw early the value of joining
"theory" with "practice." From its very start, he pushed for Penn to offer
professional as well as scholarly studies. Earlier in today's ceremony we
heard the Academic Festive Anthem which includes Franklin's famous
statement of this mission: "Learn everything that is useful," he said,
"and everything that is ornamental." Franklin thought education should be
for the body as well as for the soul -- that it should enable a graduate
to be a bread-winner as well as a thinker, that it should produce
socially-conscious citizens, as well as conscientious bankers and traders.
In all of these ideas, Franklin was very much a radical.
And so in a sense, the most central tradition that this university
inherited from its founder is a certain disdain for tradition -- a
willingness to challenge orthodoxy and to think creatively and boldly.
It has been that spirit of daring, that willingness to experiment, which
has enabled Penn to be "first" in so many areas. We are the incubator of
professional schools in the country: the first medical school, the first
business school. Indeed we are the first American "university." It was at
Penn that the world saw the first journalism curriculum, the first
institute for the study of anatomy and biology, the first psychology
clinic. And then there was the event at Penn that was to alter forever the
way we process information, acquire knowledge, and conduct business: the
invention in 1946 of ENIAC: the world's first all-electronic digital
computer.
This is all part of Penn's genetic material: the links between "theory"
and "practice," the refusal to be fettered by tradition, the importance of
education that is both intellectual and utilitarian, the deeply held
desire to understand not only "why," but also "how."
As we celebrate today Penn's heritage and glory, and consider how it
should evolve into the next century, let us first ask ourselves "What is
the essence of this institution?"
Of course, as with all universities, it is first of all a physical place.
Few urban campuses in America are as glorious as Penn. A morning stroll
along Locust Walk. The afternoon sun illuminating the red bricks of the
Fisher Fine Arts Library. The modern energies of the Annenberg Center, the
power of Steinberg-Dietrich. Penn's open spaces, common walks and
architecture flow together to host the richness, dynamism, and creativity
of our endeavors. The Penn experience begins with the majesty and
excitement of this campus.
We fill this place and these spaces -- from one end to the other -- with a
perpetual process of interaction -- thousands upon thousands of daily
contacts between faculty, students and staff. Like some magical chemical
reaction, one never knows when the spark will ignite, what explosion or
chain reaction will result. For me, as a student at Penn, it was the power
of Henry Gleitman, Eliot Stellar and Richard Solomon.
Scholarship at Penn relies on faculty who inspire and provoke, confound
and challenge, encourage and engage both their colleagues and their
students. It relies as well as on students who increasingly do the same to
professors and to each other.
Whatever else we do here, whether with new buildings, new technologies or
new courses, we must never forget that human interaction is at the core of
our purpose and our mission. The people of Penn are its essence.
Over the years, a set of rules has evolved to protect the sanctity of both
these people and this place. They include:
* freedom of expression: the right to challenge the accepted, to attack
the vogue, to explore the controversial, to embrace the forbidden;
* Another rule is uncompromising integrity: that all work, all data, all
creations must be presented fully and honestly as the sole product of
those who claim responsibility;
* Finally, mutual respect: that each individual be allowed to flourish
based on the excellence of his or her work, with participation and
advancement never denied because of race, religion or lifestyle.
There are times when political fashion brings into question some of these
precepts. The result is invariably loss of purpose.
These principles must guide us, unify us and safeguard our community.
Upholding them is our common responsibility. Any threatened breach of
these protective barriers must be rebuffed. There will be no higher
priority for this university's leadership.
Penn's continued strength must be built on a recommitment to these
precepts -- just as it is built on a common clarity of purpose. And on
that basis, we will set out a direction for our future that aspires to be
as pragmatic and as visionary as it was over 250 years ago.
We must begin with an honest assessment of our strengths and deficiencies.
To me, they are one and the same. For it is Penn's prodigious depth and
reach which illuminates our needs. So many separate schools, so much
talent and energy, such vast undertakings of teaching, scholarship and
research.
Our great professional and graduate schools must continue to strive for
pre-eminence, each in its own way, with a fierce independence and
individuality. But we must at the same time come together to ensure that
the full Penn undergraduate experience is also in the forefront with its
energy, intensity and creativity. Think of the kind of intellectual feast
we could give our students if the faculty in all of our distinguished
graduate and professional schools were actively involved in undergraduate
education in a dialogue that spanned the arts, the sciences and the
professions.
Focusing forcefully on undergraduate education is not a new idea at Penn.
It has been studied and analyzed, and studied again over the years. Many
superb school-based innovations have been made.
Now is the time for even more and bolder action. Led by the Provost and
the eight responsible academic deans, we will design a new Penn
undergraduate experience. It will involve not only curriculum, but new
types of housing, student services and mentoring, to create a seamless
experience between the classroom and the residence, from the playing field
to the laboratory.
I am committed to having this in place for students entering Penn in the
Fall of 1997. That class -- the Class of 2001 -- will be our first class
to have an entirely new experience -- the Penn Education of the
Twenty-First Century.
This must be the next great challenge for Penn. It will be a paramount
priority of my stewardship.
Indeed, as we proceed, Franklin's legacy has fresh relevance today. The
structure of our national economy continues to change dramatically.
Historic employment patterns are being radically altered. There is a
disturbing disconnect in the traditional paths from college to career.
Across the country, families are asking why invest all those years and all
that money if many of our children are forced to work in jobs that
undervalue these hard-earned diplomas, that waste their talent and
creativity.
There are no easy answers. But few are as well prepared as Penn to
respond. Franklin taught us not to be embarrassed by these concerns. That
the best available "theoretical" education could be combined with
"practical" elements to their mutual benefit.
We will build on that proud legacy.
* First we will ensure that Penn students continue to get that blended
experience that comes from the interaction of all our schools.
We will encourage even more interdisciplinary courses and programs
that link areas ranging from biology to engineering, economics to fine
arts, languages to management. Those with theoretical skills will
learn how best to apply them practically. New basic theories will
flourish in the interdisciplinary mix.
* Second, we will expand the ground-breaking efforts begun by the Lauder
Institute, and change international studies from a single program to a
fully integrated process of learning. We will send Penn graduates out
into the world with a global perspective and a self-confident global
facility.
* Third, we will maintain our historic engagement with technology. It is
a tool for education that broadens the reach of our classrooms. It is
also a critical area of inquiry because technological change is
impacting virtually every aspect of life around the globe.
These are the types of initiatives to give future Penn graduates the best
mix of "theory" and "practice." Penn will also develop new forms of
teaching and learning.
What makes sense for this new Sega Genesis Generation? It doesn't mean
replacing professors with computers. It doesn't mean turning French
literature into a video game. But it does mean recognizing that the
fascination young people have with computers comes from the fact that
these machines provide tools for inventing worlds, exploring hypotheses,
and stretching imaginations. They encourage students to be active
explorers rather than passive recipients of information.
We already have examples of this potential. Last spring, in our Classics
Department, Professor James O'Donnell taught a seminar on St. Augustine to
ten students in Williams Hall, and to 375 others all over the world, from
Hong Kong to Istanbul, who participated on the Internet. Professor
O'Donnell reports that the core classroom experience was far more active
and self-directed as his students interacted with invisible participants
around the world.
We will break down the notion that students can only learn by listening to
lectures and reading textbooks.
We will break down the notion that teaching is a mission apart from
research.
That is the direction in which we must move--developing more and different
kinds of experiential learning. We will do these things to enhance, not
replace, that core educational ingredient -- the faculty-student contact.
That is why students come to Penn. That is what will continue to draw them
here.
As Penn moves forward with these initiatives we must also continue our
commitment to diversity among students, faculty and staff. We will keep
Penn open to all. We will be current with the changing aspirations and
values of our population. We will expand our many linkages with
universities and institutions around the globe. We will solidify our
position as a world leader in the sharing of knowledge, research and
teaching and the exchange of cultural and intellectual heritages.
Theory joined to practice, research fused with teaching, the advancement
of knowledge linked to real world dilemmas: this is the Penn we will lead
into the 21st Century.
Universities are popularly called "ivory towers." This wonderful image
goes back to the French poet Charles Augustin Sainte-Beuve. In 1837, in a
poem called August Thoughts, he referred to the isolated life of the poet
Alfred de Vigny, as "more secret, as if in his tower of ivory, retired
before noon."
Our towers at Penn are anything but ivory and isolated. They are real and
gritty, from the green serpentine stone of College Hall to these glorious
gothic massings of Irvine and the red brick everywhere -- from Franklin
Field to the Quad. But we do not stop there. By water and highway, by
train and bus, and by thousands of intangible ties of the lives of so many
of us, Penn's towers extend to all of Philadelphia. For more than 250
years, Philadelphia has rooted these halls with a relevance -- yes, a
sense of the "practical" if you will, to inform our often theoretical
deliberations.
Philadelphia is my home town. I first came to Penn three decades ago,
wide-eyed, only because of a precious scholarship for local students.
Returning here, I find special meaning and emotion in so many of each
day's rituals and experiences -- not the least of which was recently
joining my Penn contemporary Ed Rendell in presenting this year's equally
proud, determined and wide-eyed Mayor's Scholars.
I have no doubt that this city, despite its problems, is one of Penn's
greatest blessings. It is central to the Penn experience -- not a world
apart. I intend to work every day that I am here, as both a personal and
an institutional mission, with community leaders and public officials,
with our schools and health clinics, on things both large and small, to
enhance the relationship in ways that will enrich both Penn and
Philadelphia. We are, and must be, truly one.
These days there is much talk that cynicism is sweeping over the American
spirit, that people are losing faith in institutions, that they are coming
to believe that action and involvement are futile. That change is
impossible. I have heard the cynics. But that is not all I have heard
across this campus since my return:
I have heard students speak with compassion about the plight of kids in
Philadelphia's ghettos, as well as Bosnia and Somalia. I have watched them
do something in response.
I have heard faculty explain their research with passion and their
constant search for new ways to make teaching a more magical experience.
I have heard the loyal dedication of staff members to both the ideals of
education and the care of "their" students and faculty.
I have heard and been moved by neighbors reaching out for our partnership
in this great community.
And I have heard with gratitude the steadfast support of alumni who
believe that if anything can make a difference in this world, it is the
advancement of knowledge.
Penn's trustees have provided me with an awe-inspiring challenge. I come
to it with a passion for education, a reverence for this institution, and
an excitement about how we can seize the future. I am committed to
creating a process of change at Penn, a process that will enable major new
initiatives in our educational programs and in the scholarly pursuits of
our faculty. I am determined that Penn can and will meet the forces of
uncertainty head-on -- with our own clarity of purpose and our own focused
mission.
But we can do this only if all of us recommit ourselves to Penn. Together
we can and must create the vision, the passion, the energy to move Penn
forward -- despite the critics, nay-sayers, and second-guessers.
Together, let us feel the glory and power of this place and its history;
Together, let us be advocates for Penn's needs, Penn's mission and Penn's
common good.
Together, let us celebrate Penn's special legacy and unique gifts, and
proudly hold our rightful place among America's and the world's leading
academic institutions.
Penn deserves no less.
Together, let us move ahead.
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Revision: 24 October 1994 [webmaster@dccs.upenn.edu]