University of Virginia - Corks and Curls Yearbook (Charlottesville, VA)

Page 11 text:

An even more noticeable change is the greater number of students-especially to anyone who has ever tried to park around the Grounds lately. Enrollment by 1975 or 1980 is talked of in terms of 15,000 or more-a size not uncommon for state universities, but one which causes conster- nation among the admirers of the relative inti- macy of the present Hacademical village. As the University grows larger, it inevitably grows more impersonal. Students discovered this the first day of the session when the Reg- istrar presented them with that nasty little computer card marked Do not FS!lVlt . These ominous letters were deciphered at the bottom ofthe card to mean told, spindle, or mutilate. Do not FS!lVlt, indeed! There have been sug- gestions that someone should FS, not to men- tion Nlt, the bureaucrat who ever devised that message. The bureaucrats are multiplying, however, and the many items of business once handled in a casual, personal sort of way are now inextrica- bly bound in red tape. The level of personal ser- vice likewise has fallen, from the practically non- existent maid service to the stale food dis- pensed by metallic blocks of vending machines.

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The Class of 1968 may well be the last group to know the old University, renowned in song and in the memories of alumni, but now as irre- vocably gone as the duck races at Carroll's Tea Room or last year's Easters. ln its place is a new University, not only a larger and a more bustling one, but in essence, it seems, a different one. Any University is a living organism changing from year to year, but the sort of evolution the Class of '68 has witnessed seems nothing less, to borrow from Darwin, than the appearance of a new species. Whether this new University is a better place than the old is a question often debated over coffee at the Colonnade Club or over beers at the Raven Room. We think it is a better place. The University's first duty has always been to educate its stu- dents, and it is doing a better job of that today, by all recognized standards, than when the Class of '68 came to Charlottesville. But what of less easily measured considera- tions-the atmosphere, the manners, the quality of life? To attempt to answer this, we need to examine this widely discussed change more closely. First of all, the University is different physical- ly. lVlr. Jefferson's buildings, wearing their age so well, still stand, but all about them new struc- tures are rising-some conforming in red brick simplicity, others aggressively modern. Ancient trees are being toppled, new walks and roads are being cut in the red Albemarle clay, the buzz and rattle and crash of the construction crews are competing with the instructors for attention. Some old structures have been transformed- the Commons now houses the Registrar-while others have been put to make-shift use pending their demolition-the Amphitheatre, for exam- ple, is ending its days as a parking lot. The Uni- versity has drawn up an ambitious and contro- versial Master Plan, calling for study and living complexes that will reshape the face of the Grounds, save for the Jeffersonian center. Al- though the University regrettably has failed to produce a modern building of first-rate design- with the possible exception of the new chemistry block-the opportunities for architectural excel- lence in the next few decades will be numerous. 4-

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Q! llffi fl Perhaps the most pervading change has been in the attitudes of the students themselves. The University was once uncharitably labeled as a haven for Southern snobs and Ivy League rejects. Something of this reputation lingers perhaps, but the University the Class of '68 has known is filled with students who wouldn't know a Randolph from a Carter and who have never been near a polo pony. The Virginia man, likewise, was once known chiefly for his legendary abilities at drinking Jack Daniels, rolling to Sweet Briar or Hollins, and choosing the gut courses that guaranteed his gentleman's C . Individuals still exist that fit this description, and the ABC stores and the girls' schools certainly haven't gone out of business. Yet as an archetype, this sporting fel- low has gone the way of parties in the Quad, for- mal dances in the gym and party weekends that began on Tuesday. The typical University student, assuming there is such a creature, spends much more time with his books than his counterpart a decade ago. This is partly the result of General Hershey's alternative for staying in school and of the pressures on graduate admissions. lt has more to do, however, with the higher calibre of student the University now attracts. The approv- al formerly accorded a gentleman's C now goes to Dean's List status, as the competition for grades and honors grows keen. Teachers expect more-and the students produce it. While the fraternities still aren't exactly intellectual bee- hives, even they reflect these developments in dinner table conversation that is less likely to be concerned with drinking bouts or sexual prowess and more concerned with the English depart- ment's tenure policies or the effect of devalua- tion ofthe pound or the meaning of Bonnie and Clyde. Today it is almost impossible for the so- cial butterfly to flutter his leisurely way through