Finding Your Voice

SLC alumnae/i tend to be bolder than average in the individual-expression department. Of course, everyone’s voice is different, and some carry further than others. In this issue, we visit nightclubs, classrooms, theatres, and the White House to learn the secrets of Sarah Lawrence people who have particularly clear voices.

The Company We Keep

Whether we’re united by choice or circumstance, biology or belief, the communities we belong to affect who we are. Or is it the other way around? Join us as we delve into the mysterious dynamics between individuals and social groups, large and small. Because the most fascinating communities are made up of true individuals.

DESIGN

“Good design keeps the user happy, the manufacturer in the black, and the aesthete unoffended,” said Raymond Loewy, the father of industrial design. But making things that look good and function well is no easy process. Come peek behind the curtain to see how designers work their magic—and what it means for the way we live.

The Value of Money

Money is one of the central preoccupations of our lives. Though we use it every day, we don’t often ponder what it’s all about. Money is more than the decorated paper off a mint, the balance in a savings account, or even the power to acquire the things we want. At root, money is something simpler and stranger: it is a tool for assigning value. In this issue, we invite you to take a closer look at this staple of modern life and get to know Sarah Lawrence alumnae/i, students, and faculty as they earn, admire, collect, imagine, scrounge, redistribute, and multiply money in all its forms.

The Inauguration of Karen Lawrence

“She’s one of us,” literature faculty member Ann Lauinger said warmly of Karen Lawrence during the Inauguration ceremony on October 5. Though Lauinger was speaking as a faculty member—Lawrence taught comparative literature at the University of Utah for 19 years—the sentiment is broadly applicable. College staff can claim Lawrence as their own, since she served as the dean of the School of Humanities at U.C. Irvine for the past nine years. Originally from New Jersey, she has lived on both coasts, helping her relate with students and parents nationwide. And though she didn’t attend Sarah Lawrence, she shares the spirit of original thought and creative action that characterizes our alumnae/i.

The Legacy of Michele Tolela Myers

Saying goodbye is never easy. And in this issue, we have to do it twice, bidding farewell to President Michele Tolela Myers and Dean of the College Barbara Kaplan. We look at the places and people, struggles and innovations that defined their time at Sarah Lawrence, and hear from various members of the SLC community how these two women have enriched the life of the College. Though they played different roles at SLC, both Myers and Kaplan approached their work in true Sarah Lawrence style, with vigor and vision, passion and compassion, and a deep respect for process. This issue is our way of saying to them: Directly or indirectly, you touched all of us. Thank you.

Outcomes

Outcome: “A final consequence,” says Webster’s, adding “See: Result.” At Sarah Lawrence, not surprisingly, we see nothing final in an outcome—rather, a culmination of a process that will almost certainly lead to another one. And probably to another, and another. So our focus for this issue begs the question, just what are “outcomes,” then, and why do they matter? Our alumnae/i talk about the work they do—how they’ve turned out, if you will—knowing that their working choices are far from over. A writing faculty member contemplates one sort of outcome, while those who love her are interpreting the word differently. And a math student looks at proofs and posits that the joy is in the journey, not where it ends up.

Perhaps, then, this is really our “anti-outcome” issue. Either way, click here to see how it all, well, comes out...

Coeducation

Consider this statement: Sarah Lawrence College went coed in 1968.
True or false?

Nearly four decades later, students and alumnae/i know the answer—although they may not always like it—but the outside world often hesitates over it.

Yet even if they knew the answer, would they send their sons here? Or to any liberal arts college? Across the country, male college enrollments are dropping, and small coeducational schools are taking notice. While our ratio of men to women has remained virtually unchanged in spite of the trend, Sarah Lawrence continues to fight the single-sex perception.

So we decided it was time to take a look at Sarah Lawrence’s rocky road to coeducation—and the declining presence of men in higher education. And we went to those who know whereof they speak—our students and alumnae/i—to think about the role gender played in their college choice.

We got some surprising answers. But getting surprising answers is, at Sarah Lawrence, never a surprise.

Generations

The handing down of wisdom and life lessons from parent to child is the core of their relationship. (So is the decision by a child whether or not to pay attention to those gifts.) When we began to think about what one generation transfers to the next, it seemed so simple, so clear. We thought of the moral—things like values, and how a parent can communicate them. We thought of the physical—things like genes, and what can happen when those genes create a map for illness and suffering in the years ahead. We thought of legacies—an estate from a parent whose death changes everything. And, being Sarah Lawrence, we thought of teaching, and how teacher and student find glimmers at the end of the learning tunnel.

The common thread is generations; the common path is sometimes narrow, always winding. So simple, so clear: just life. That’s all.

The Power of Giving

Now We're Going to Talk about Something That You Don't Want to Talk About

Yes, this is about giving money.

Still reading? Keep going—because money is only the beginning. This is about the spirit that drives giving. It’s about philanthropy: putting money and time to the service of humanity. As we like to do, we are coming at this theme from a variety of directions, looking at: alumnae/i and what they support; what motivates people to give—and to not give; professionals for whom fundraising is a way of life; the ins and outs of giving to your alma mater; differences in giving between the sexes; ways to give that sidestep your wallet; the tough decisions a president makes—and the hopes and dreams she has for an institution she loves.

Stay with us. We guarantee that your time will be well spent.

Far from Home

There’s no place like home. Home is where the heart is, where the buffalo roam, where the fires are burning, where charity begins. Home is sweet, and you can’t go there again. But in this issue, we examine a host of people who have taken paths away from home and into countries where there is no familiar landscape or language. They go to see the unfamiliar, to clash with it, to fit in with it and, always, to learn from it. Almost all of them— but not quite, as you will see—have returned home thereafter, and are ready to recount their experiences for Sarah Lawrence. We invite you to Cuba and Peru, to Afghanistan and Ghana, to Italy and Germany and China, even to America, to join Sarah Lawrence College alumnae/i, students and faculty in their travels.

The Art of Teaching Art

There is an art to teaching art—one that Sarah Lawrence has been refining for more than 75 years. It’s still a work-in-progress, and each successive artist brings subtle shifts in style, but its focus couldn’t be more defined: Open your mind, cross your disciplines and present angles on the world that are yours alone. Now the visual arts and visual cultures classes have migrated—from scattered locations all over campus—to a new home in the Monika A. and Charles A. Heimbold, Jr. Visual Arts Center, and a new era begins. In this issue, Sarah Lawrence takes a look at how, when art is taught, learned and made, anything is possible.

Only Connect

The power of E.M. Forster’s exhortation sparks every part of our lives. As family, as social beings, as professionals—as persons—we need to follow these directions, given so succinctly in just four syllables and the imperative case.

But sometimes we can’t connect, and communication breaks down, and we need help to bring us back. This issue focuses on people who connect lives for a living, practicing the art of personal connection. They have the ability to reach across the void and create dialogue and community where it may be most needed: connecting individuals to each other, or unifying groups; bringing outsiders into the social fold, or finding a home for those who need one; doing it for good pay or bad, or giving themselves as volunteers; working and living in places where connection has yet to be made, or where it is about to be severed.

When we finished our compilation, we marveled at the variety of settings: a Japanese classroom, a Korean mission, a San Antonio suburb, an electrician’s van, a 12-step meeting, a genealogical chart, the homes of autistic children, a hospice where parents say a last goodbye, and many more—and these are but pieces of a much larger picture.

We then turned to Sarah Lawrence itself, and found alumnae/i who remain connected as volunteers, students who are building community on campus from the ground up, and faculty whose ability to connect through teaching is, for us all, the stuff of legend.

75th Anniversary

No single issue of Sarah Lawrence can give the full history of Sarah Lawrence, but we thought it might be fun—and appropriate, as we observe our 75th anniversary—to offer glimpses of our past.  You may find a piece of your own past within these pages; perhaps they will prompt memories of a Sarah Lawrence experience which, like the education we offer, is unique to each of our alumnae/i, faculty and students. We hope that this special commemorative issue will find a place on your bookshelf, there for you to dip into whenever you want to remember Sarah Lawrence.

Activism

Taking action: It’s the point where caring passionately about an issue intersects with the Sarah Lawrence gift for self-expression. In this issue we take a closer look at some of the many who have reached that point over the years, crossing over into activism and pressing hard for change. Whether to enlighten the College or to bring justice to a broader community, students and alumnae/i have pursued their goals with a distinctive combination of intellectual depth and fierce belief that ensures a response. We show you a spectrum of people and the causes for which they’ve put themselves on the line: from local outreach in the 1940s through the sit-ins and protests of more recent decades, calls for race and gender equity, and philanthropic dedication.

Producing Creativity

SLC is known for its extraordinarily creative students, faculty and alumnae/i. But how do the fruits of their imagination end up in front of the rest of us—the audience?  For this issue, we chose to examine the marketing of creativity through the lens of book publishing.  How do agents, editors, critics, booksellers and the like pick up the story told by the author?  How do new writers find an outlet in a creative business ruled by the bottom line?  How can creativity sometimes opt out of the public eye, but still reach an audience?  And we end with where it all begins: A writer muses on her readers and—well, her muses, too.

Food for Thought

It's summer, and, as always, Sarah Lawrence is lightening up a bit. This time, we're thinking about something we pretty much all enjoy: food. We've turned into a global selection of alumnae/i, faculty and students who have made food produciton or cuisine their life focus, who know the importance of a good meal, or who simply find food a useful metaphor in their creative work. Our menu includes prose, poetry, fiction, how-to tips, history, photography, memories, wit and wisdom. And recipies, of course, including some that will tell you, "How to Cook Like a College President." In other departments you'll find side orders of photographs that are peculiarly "Sarah Lawrence" —and just plain peculiar. For dessert, see a new poem by Alice Walker.

Who Are You?

There are an infinite number of ways to answer the question, "Who are you?" The easiest way is to look from the outside in: your race, your size, your job, your role in life, perhaps. We all do this every day. But in this issue of Sarah Lawrence, we asked some people to reflect on the concept of identity from the inside out. A writer, her child born with muscular dystrophy, has found her "voice" - her professional identity - in writing about that child. Members of the gay community muse on identity with a twist: If you are gay, is your work defined that way as well? A young mixed-race woman delves through layers of complexity that give her new views of what it means just to define yourself. Ten undergraduates answer for the now, while another undergrad paints ID pictures that freeze his subjects forever at 18. An "American" poet, born in India, defines his present through Indian mythology.

Who are you? We invite you to tell us. Write us, email us. Tell us - and tell yourself.

Choices and Transitions: How to Grow Up

The Autumn 2002 issue of Sarah Lawrence Magazine examines the hinges of our lives: those doors we open when moving from one of life's rooms to the next.

What's So Funny?

It's summer and time to lighten up, we decided. What better theme than humor? This issue of Sarah Lawrence, therefore, takes a look at why we laugh, what we laugh at, and who in our community has made our laughter their life's work.

Now, nothing kills a joke faster than explaining it, nor will it surprise you that people who are funny for a living are very, very serious about their work. The desire to impart pleasure through giggles, chuckles and guffaws is a powerful one, we found, easily equivalent to salmon swimming upstream combating typhoons and twisters. Yet, in spite of the tight-lipped, grim determination of all the comics and clowns and satirists out there, there are still some laughs to be had in this issue. Enjoy them.

As always, we hope that you will share your reactions with us.

Prison | Release

With the American prison population now at more than 2 million people, overcrowding, deteriorating facilities and failures of the "system" make reform a daunting task. The spring issue of Sarah Lawrence Magazine focuses on ways that members of the SLC community are working to change the prison system, to overhaul the way society looks at incarceration, and to find ways to help prisoners find different kinds of release.

Still Life

What happens after twin explosions, the Pentagon's breach, bombs over Afghanistan and anthrax back home? How does life, arrested, continue?

We asked SLC alumnae/i, faculty and students to share their thoughts, reactions and insights into the events of September 11 and their aftermath.

All photos in "Still Life" were taken in New York City and Washington, D.C. on or just after September 11, 2001.