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| The tower of Stetson Chapel. (Photo provided by Kalamazoo College.) |
Launched in the
early nineteenth century as the Michigan and Huron Institute, Kalamazoo’s fledgling
college was officially a secular school, but with its first trustees and many
faculty members being staunch Baptists, the denomination’s influence was unambiguous, and remained so for
a long time. [i]
Kalamazoo College (“K”) has steadily produced Baptist ministers and teachers
for many years.
During the years
leading up to the Civil War, “K” acquired a heroic couple, President James
Stone and his wife, Lucinda Hinsdale Stone (who ably taught women students for
twenty years with no salary). Abolitionists and supporters of women’s rights as
well as being good liberal Baptists, the Stones were admired and beloved by
their students, but had many enemies on and off campus. They were thought to be
far too liberal—Lucinda read The Atlantic
and expected her students to read Byron’s poetry!—in a town that even today is
very conservative. Finally, faced with financial difficulties related to a
national depression and with accusations of personal immorality (which
were fabricated by their enemies), the
Stones resigned.
A long, dark
period in the college’s history followed. Along with the rest of the country,
the school suffered through the Civil War. Though Baptist churches and
benefactors continued to support it, there never was enough money for the
expansion that was occurring in many colleges. “K” seems to have slogged valiantly
through the end of the nineteenth century, steadily providing a classic
education to a small number of loyal students.
In spite of many
difficulties, over the years a dedicated faculty became extremely successful in
producing graduates with strong liberal arts backgrounds. Many of them went on
to become scientists; in the 1952 book The
Origins of American Scientists[ii],
the authors stated that “K” was third among the 50 top-ranking schools whose
graduates went on to earn Ph.D.s in the sciences.
Like most
colleges and universities, “K” has had both excellent and poor leaders. One of
the outstanding ones was President Allen Hoben, who originated the phrase “a
fellowship in learning” during the twenties to describe “K"'s collegial spirit,
in which faculty and students thrived by a sort of symbiosis. Hoben and most of
the faculty actually lived on campus, creating a familial atmosphere.
When I matriculated
in 1954, the Baptist relationship was still obvious; many of the students I
knew came from Baptist families. We even were required to attend chapel
services three times a week. My first job on campus was counting chapel-attendance slips, under the hawk-eyed
supervision of the dean of women.
Following a
temporary influx of students on the G.I. Bill just after World War II, the
school had shrunk somewhat in size and reputation, but that would soon change.
We had a brand new president, Weimer K. Hicks (covertly but universally known
as “Beaver,” because of his intensity), who was determined to build the school
up in every way, and he succeeded. I first realized his determination early in
my freshman year, when he literally backed me into a corner and suggested that
I join the marching band that would be needed for Homecoming. He had checked
every student’s records to find out which of us had played in high school
bands, and of course he knew all our names and Achilles’ heels. There was no
escaping Dr. Hicks, especially for those of us who depended on scholarships. I
joined the band.
Majoring in
biology, I was greatly influenced by two great teachers, H. Lewis Batts and
Frances Diebold. Batts taught an excellent freshman class as well as advanced
classes in ornithology and ecology. In later years he would found the
Kalamazoo Nature Center. “Dieb” was already an institution herself, having
taught at the school since the early twenties. She tried to keep abreast of the latest
scientific findings (Watson and Crick had just published their seminal paper on
the DNA helix) and to impart them to us, but what I remember most from her
classes is her emphasis on the history and philosophy of biology. That has
stayed with me through the years, while I studied and forgot many of the more specialized
aspects of biology in my graduate work. Batts, “Dieb,” and many other teachers
gave me a fine education.
Under Hicks’s
aegis, during the sixties a foreign study program was inaugurated—how I wish it
had been in place when I was a student!—that has led to a year abroad for most
“K” students. Foreign study was a third of what was dubbed the “K Plan.” All students were expected to spend time
abroad, to become interns in fields where they might want to pursue careers,
and to plan and carry out a Senior Individualized Project. The K Plan, now
renowned and imitated nationally, has resulted in students’ greater self
reliance and readiness to begin years of work and service. As one example, “K”
produces more Peace Corps volunteers per capita than any other institution. Even today, there are some trustees and other
Baptists involved with “K,” although officially it is not affiliated with any
religion.
Though the original
campus still looks very familiar to me, it is obvious from alumni publications
that much about the school has changed, and mostly for the better. For the past
ten years President Eileen Wilson-Oyelaran, a dynamic African-American woman,
has led the school. The student body now comprises a wide variety of races,
religions, and nationalities, in great contrast to the nearly all-white Christian
group I knew in the fifties. The Arcus Center for Social Justice Leadership was
opened to great fanfare a few years ago; in keeping with James and Lucinda
Stones’ heritage, some townspeople have judged the architecture too modern, the
philosophy too liberal. Today “K” is known as one of the most outstanding small
colleges in the United States.
When I left to
return to California, it was with great pride in my alma mater. I may never be
on the campus again, but will always stay in touch with my old friends and read
alumni publications. “K” was a good school in the fifties, is even better
today, and no doubt will continue to grow in excellence in the future.
[i]
Much of this historical information is based on A Fellowship in Learning: Kalamazoo College, 1833–2008, by Marlene
Crandell Francis. Kalamazoo: Kalamazoo College, 2008. Any snarky comments,
mistakes, and misinterpretations are my own.
[ii] Knapp,
R.H. and H.B. Goodrich. The Origins of American
Scientists. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1952.
