Earlier this week, while procrastinating writing a fairly important essay, I found myself randomly reading Brandeis-related Wikipedia articles. I read all about the most famous professors and alums, the best years in athletics and the dog to whom the now-defunct coffee shop Chum’s owes its name. And because I was really feeding the procrastination kick, I clicked on the cited links as I skimmed, telling myself that since it was history, I was still technically being productive.
It was in this way that I stumbled upon a particular article referenced on the main Brandeis Wikipedia page, one that really stuck with me in the following days. It was a piece published in The New York Times from October 1998 entitled “Brandeis at 50 is Still Searching, Still Jewish, and Still Not Harvard”.
The article, written by a journalist I’d never heard of named Ethan Bronner, covered many topics, but its core story was the contradiction at the heart of Brandeis’ identity and the ways in which that paradox has made it difficult for the university to come into its own. The article discussed how Brandeis has intermittently embraced or distanced itself from its Jewish roots, while also weighing the limits that Brandeis’ founding ideal as a “Harvard of the Jews” has put on the school in the years since, as admissions departments across the United States have warmed to Jewish populations.
The most fascinating aspect to me, however, was that even though the article was written 25 years ago, it could fool someone into thinking it had come out just last week. The same character issues that Mr. Bronner described in 1998 are still just as easily visible to any casual Brandeis observer now. I will admit that this felt in part vindicating for me, as I have often struggled with a feeling of unluckiness that I just so happened to come to this school at a time when students’ perception of their own university is so overwhelmingly dour and negative. I had sometimes wondered if, had I been just a few years older, my experience at Brandeis would not be so defined by this dissatisfied atmosphere that permeates the entire institution. In a way, it was freeing to learn that the school has always had a “second rate” sting to it, that trashing Brandeis isn’t a recent invention. However, it was far more sobering to come to terms with the implication of that reality: that the problems facing Brandeis today have been plaguing the university for at least the past quarter century. This means that not only has the administration failed to make any significant progress towards addressing student concerns, but also that the school has remained forever trapped in the same toxic search for the initial promise that the school was founded on: of being the elitest of elite universities.
But what gave me pause, what really made this Brandeis-bashing article stand out among the rest, was that our new interim president, Dr. Arthur Levine ‘70, is quoted toward the end of it. “Once Brandeis loses its Jewishness, it becomes just another university and pushes away its donor base,” Mr. Levine says. ”Moreover, Brandeis faces the same challenges as all research universities. For the first time since the days Brandeis was founded, universities are not a growth industry.” A surprisingly dour assessment from one who just under three weeks ago took the reins of the university in question. This quote’s existence gave me some semblance of hope that President Levine may be just the person to break the destructive cycle that Brandeis has been trapped in for who knows how long. Maybe he will prove to possess the self-reflective quality that we seem to have lacked in our past leadership.
And so with that in mind, knowing that there is a chance that President Levine could be reading this article just as he likely read Mr. Bronner’s feature years ago, I write here a letter to him, an ask that I hope he listens to and heeds: Stop searching for Brandeis’ identity. Stop trying to resolve the contradiction of being a Jewish non-sectarian university. And pretty please, stop Brandeis from continually, fruitlessly, trying to be Harvard.
Brandeis doesn’t need to search for its identity; we, the students, can already tell you all about it. Brandeis is nerdy, kind and inclusive. Brandeis is the kind of campus where, when walking from your dorm to class, you can exchange waves with at least half a dozen friendly faces. Brandeis is a place where friendship circles aren’t exclusively defined by major or field of study. Brandeis is highly engaged in the community, with service being a backbone of the university. At Brandeis, all events are free to students—something we definitely take for granted—and the city life and the outdoorsy life are equally accessible. Brandeis is a place where you can leave your computer out in the library for five hours and not need to worry about anybody stealing it. And yes, Brandeis is a little weird. I mean, our most popular and successful school sport is Quadball of all things. But it’s a place where we wear our weirdness with pride.
Brandeis is also other things, though. Brandeis is a school with ridiculously expensive tuition, where it’s unclear exactly how helpful the things that we learn will actually end up being in our careers. Brandeis can also feel very isolating, and it can be intimidating to try to find your people if it seems like everybody else already has everything sorted out. Brandeis is a place where you find students with combative political or social ideologies, sometimes with both sides having limited empathy or grief for the other. You’ll catch yourself doing the liberal arts lookaround every five seconds. You’ll need to wait at least two hours for the laundry to be free. Brandeis is a place where every single student has either thought about transferring or actually tried to do so.
And as much as the university has seemingly gone back and forth on how closely it wants to be considered a Jewish school, that aspect of our legacy will always prevail. Whether we’re orthodox or anything but, Judaism is a central tenet of our campus culture, selling strategy and donor pool. There’s no use in debating that or trying to run from it. Instead, what the university should do is acknowledge that fact while also lifting up the many other faith groups that make up the campus population. Muslim students should have a dedicated prayer space that is not just an unused room in the Usdan Student Center. Catholic students should have a chapel that is able to serve its partitioners in a more meaningful way than just performing emergency ceremonies. Collaborations between Brandeis Hillel and the Center for Spiritual Life should be routine, not something that happens just once or twice a semester. Instead of being “Jewish” or “not Jewish”, let’s position ourselves as “Jewish and … ”, a sign that, while Judaism is intrinsic to our founding values, that population is not the only one that deserves the school’s attention, consideration and energy.
And when all of these truths about Brandeis are understood by the administration, the last thing to acknowledge may be the hardest for university leadership: we will never be Harvard. We will never even be the “Harvard of the Jews”. Make peace with that, and stop putting on airs that imply the pipedream is possible. As a student, it is the most frustrating for me when this school is so clearly trying to emulate something that it is not. It’s a waste of time and resources, and makes me question the very reasoning behind every decision that the president’s office makes. Instead of trying to be Harvard, how about this: just try to be better. Not better in the sense of striving toward a higher U.S News and World Report ranking, but better in terms of what the students want and need out of their administration, in terms of prioritizing and strengthening the campus culture and identity that we already have.
Stop ignoring the fact that our school has special problems that are concentrated here and only here. Stop using excuses that water down the truths of what is happening on campus. This is the university of Drew Weissman ‘81 and Michael Rosbash, of Anita Hill and Eleanor Roosevelt. We can do better. We must do better. The previous administrations have labored long and hard to destroy students’ trust in Brandeis as an institution. Popular programs have been rolled back, beloved staff have been unceremoniously laid off, corners have been cut and student wellbeing has felt less and less like a priority. The only place that true change can come from is your office, President Levine. You must pave the way to fix the mistakes of your predecessors or risk continuing their legacy of campus malcontentment.
I, for one, am optimistic that you will take on that responsibility and wear it well. I have faith that you know Brandeis’ imperfections, that you know that we have an uphill battle ahead of us. You possess the leadership skills, the experience and—as the New York Times article demonstrates—the foresight powerful enough to hopefully prevent another article just like this
one being written in another twenty-five years.
Breaking the cycle does not need to be so hard. Engage with us. Talk to us. Show your
face around campus so we know that you care about us for more than the money, work and
effort that we pour into this school semester after semester. Think about the promise of Brandeis not as something to search for, but as something that is waiting to be found.
