Page 4
University Daily Kansan, March 8, 1982
Opinion
Migration will continue
The University of Kansas is a better-than-average school.
But whether it stays that way is currently in the unloving hands of the Kansas Legislature.
Early indications are that the Legislature is favoring what amounts to a 7.5 percent increase in faculty salaries for next year. This figure is a far cry from the 13 percent increase requested by the Board of Regents.
And 7.5 percent is probably not enough to remind bright and experienced teachers of their commitment to education when private industry tempts them with job offers paying two or three times their KU salaries.
A 7.5 percent increase is not even enough to keep other universities from luring away some of our best and brightest faculty members.
In the past two years, KU has lost 30 faculty members to employment outside higher education, and 58 to other universities.
And it's hard to blame the ones who leave when they are offered the chance.
In several comparisons with other schools, KU ranks, at best, below average.
and usually near the bottom in terms of faculty salaries.
KU salaries are ranked 20th out of those of the 24 member schools of the American Association of Universities North Central Institutions
They are below average when compared to salaries at other Big Eight schools.
The professors who are leaving are not just those in "marketable" areas, such as business or engineering. A former KU associate professor of history, who left teaching for a job in industry, is spending his spare time telling faculty members in social sciences and humanities throughout the country how to find jobs outside the ivory tower.
The 13 percent increase recommended by the Regents would not solve KU's faculty salary woes. But it would at least show faculty members that the Legislature values their services and is doing what it can to hang on to them.
If the Legislature approves the lower salary increase, the migration from KU undoubtedly will continue and probably worsen.
Then the legislators can have the satisfaction of knowing that through their actions, a better-than average school gradually will become a below-average one.
Sweet smell of success can be fishy
"To know you are making the big time in life, look over your shoulder" new nise words say. "If you see a trail of dead fish, you're succeeding."
All the ancient American philosphers missed their cue when one of them didn't lay quol to those words centuries ago. Of course, there isn't much in America with the age lines to be called ancient yet. Enough of an excuse for them. I suppose.
But all the more reason to preserve the "Proberb of the Dead Fish" now. They're words that tell us what today will look like as yesterday, when we're standing in tomorrow. They tell us why we can't feel the rainbows as we move from one day to the next.
If you know how to squint just right, all of that can be seen in the scales of a stinking mackerel. So, spislah after through my story, I look at it with joy, frowning. Not a feast, but at least a tasty morsel or two.
A case of premature anxiety, perhaps?
That day, my feelings were gurgling around like hot liquids rushing inside a car's radiator: Fear of falling in college swirred in the cesspool. My fear collided with the idea that a high school of 500 students was one world, and everything outside was another. Of course, I knew I'd face all of the new one on my first week in college. The blackest thought of all was that I didn't have the smarts to break into a law school.
We begin on a spring day about four years ago. I was a senior in high school, standing on the steps inside the school having a heart-to-the heart with my mentor, a literature teacher. He was gifted as an opener of minds and an adult with the confidence in teen-agers to admit that occasionally they play on the far side of midnight.
"Settle down. You'll make it through college just fine," my teacher said. "And I know a lot of fairly dumb people who made it into law school, anaww."
Somehow, that wasn't quite the help I wanted.
In high school, it seemed to me that most of the bright students I kept an eye on found their way into a law school. Apparently, that was the rule for them. It was not often were making it. When they came to town to
JEFF THOMAS
visiting, I thought I noticed a new huw, a subtle tristim,
that I didn't see on anyone else. Law
visited me, and I saw him.
In the years since that day in high school, law
school has been hanged in front of 60 or more
buildings, including a vast cutout of four.
A few weeks ago, my law school letter arrived. The yea or nea was in, and in my hand. With a rip and a crinkle of unfolding paper, my hand up the important word: "Congratulations."
I paused. Maybe sighed. Something fluttered upward inside for a moment and then landed
I called home to pass on the news. "Of course, I heard you expected anything else." "Earlier said," he replied.
We said our goodbyes, I grabbed the dirty
clothes and headed for the laundromat. For years I'd waited, worried and even studied a bit for that letter, that score to the TD. And I was impressed. I had avoided a fender-bomb on 23rd Street.
Many KU students I know seem to be reacting to their successes much the way I did. When we work on a project, we count on success. When we score, we're relieved, not elated. Success seems to have become avoiding negative experiences rather than sailing upward with positive achievements. Often, the good news that we work and wait for is only assurance of what we've come to believe is necessary for us.
Now, to explain the proverb. Picture a small fishing ship slipping through shallow, clear waters. A school of fish ripples alongside, keeping pace. They form a wall of glinting speckles like a sheet of chain mail suspended in the water.
The nets are lowered and scoop a catch from the school. On deck, they slide and flap. Drying, they slow. Stop. With the water, their quick moment seems to evaporate. They lie dull on the deck.
Excuse the smell, but I think success is a lot like those fish. For many of us, success seems to sparkle only when it's still out of our reach. Once we can put it on the resume, it becomes a part of us. Apparently, winning has become only laying claim to a part of us that always should have been there and now will be part of us, our histories, forever.
At the least, this isn't the most healthy way to view accomplishment. We seem to be denying ourselves much of the joy in triumph over failure by concepts to fatal risks when failure does come.
Sunny vacations do not give skin a break
With the numbers getting smaller in the countdown to spring break, that tantalizing, energizing respite between Christmas vacation and summer, you may be impatient anticipating 10 fabulous days—if you leave late Thursday afternoon—of fun in the sun.
As you endure these last few days of less-than-inspiring classes before break begins, you may remain motivated by envisioning yourself, your nearly nude body coated with glistening, subtropic coconut oil, as you lie on a stretch of hot sand near sparkling surf and become more alluringly bronzed with each hour spent under a gloriously hot sun.
The University Daily KANSAN
(USPS 58946) *Published at the University of Kansas daily August through May and Monday and Thursday nights.* (USPS 58947) *Subscribed to second-class postage at Lawrence, Kansas 60443. Subscriptions by mail are $13 for six months or $7 a year in Douglas County and $1 for six months or $5 a year in Klamath County.* (USPS 58948) *A semester, paid through the student activity fee.)
Postmaster: Send changes of address to the University
Dayan Kainan, Fulh Hall, The University of Kansas.
Editor Business Manager
Varnam Manner Judeine Labine
Hansen Managing Editor Teresa Krauss
Editorial Editor Karen Schultzer
Campus Editor Karen Schultzer
Gene George Jones
Campus Editor Joe Rebehn
Assistant Campus Editors Joe Rebehn, Rebecca Channey
Assignment Editor Sue Hedroban
Editor
Retail Sales Manager ... Aim Horbartser
Accounting Manager ... Charlie Owens
Campus Sales Manager ... Perry Beaul
Classified Manager ... Sharon Burton
Sales Manager ... Joe Kearns
Team Management ... John Egan
Administrative Assistants
Jer Grimes, Amy Jones, Matthew Langan,
philip Marchiank, Liz McMahon, Mindy Moore,
Katryn Myrs, Robin O'Bannon, Mike Pearl,
Susan Saylor, Jane Wenderson
Larry Burnmaster, Susan Cookey, Richard Dugan
Jay Getzman, Jonce Jones, Matthew Logan
Sales and Marketing Advisor ... Jobs Oberman
General Manager and News Advisor ... Rick Mauzer
You know, of course, what a sun tan really is. It is evidence of your skin's desperate efforts to protect the rest of your body from a relentless sun rays attack that can cause radiation lurking in their Sunshine's friendly rays.
While you carefully turn your turn so as to be equally browned on every part of your sunburn, apply a thick coat.
Here's what's happening on the front lines of the battle: The sun's rays include infrared light,
The next layer of cells produces and stores melanin, the pigment which gives your skin color. As you turn another shade darker, these little melanin-stuffed cells are frantically absorbing up to 90 percent of the ultraviolet radiation you are basking in.
Invisible ultraviolet radiation easily penetrates the uppermost layer of skin, made up of flattened, slightly yellowish cells that manufacture keratin.
which you feel as heat, and ultraviolet light,
which you can't feel at all.
LISA BOLTON
Meanwhile, the cells in the keratin layer are reproducing as fast as their little selves can split in their efforts to block out the ultraviolet rays by thickening your skin.
If you burn instead of tan, it's because your skin, having been under wraps since last summer, has not built up a protective layer of melanin and keratin. A blistered nose or peeling back are casualties of your skin's war against the ultraviolet rays.
Check your strap marks to see this pragmatic miracle in action.
If tanning is a battle, burning is an all-out nuclear attack.
As the sun's rays beam down on unsuspecting skin cells, unpaired neutrons-called free radicals-split from cell molecules. This electrochemical change produces toxic by-products, which cause tiny blood vessels to swell and leak. It note correlate
Underneath your red, doomed-to-pelce face, forces of free radicals unleashed by the sun are cripping your cellular renewal process. This translates into premature aging.
A sunburn will fade, but the damage to the genetic blueprints each cell needs to reproduce is not.
"What? Wrinkles?" you cry. "But I'm only 19!"
But the work of sun-crazed free radicals takes place in the cell's genetically damaged cells proliferates, its called *cell death*.
Most sunscreens and tanning lotions contain para-aminobenzoic acid—look for a big, bright "PABA" on the label—as a defense against ultraviolet rays.
In 1881, 5,000 people—equal to about one-fifth of the KU student body—died from skin cancer.
But don't depend on a sunscreen alone to protect you when entering the sunlight zone.
Research done in the United States and England last summer hints that some PABA byproducts are phototoxins. As much as the innocent, unpaired neutrons turn into free radicals the sun's evil influence, these wall-machine bumps become poisonous when struck by sunlight.
So pack the sunscreen.
And scientists have found that another common sun protection ingredient called "5-methoxyprosalen"—don't even try to pronounce it—may cause cancer in laboratory animals.
Of course, that's what they said about artificial sweeteners in airy cool soft drinks.
One thing to know about drinking, by the way—besides the problems it can cause for drivers—is that anything with time juice in it will make sunburn sooner.
But don't let that keep you off the beach. A great tan is worth a little sacrifice.
Letters to the Editor
Handling of banquet speaker rude
To the Editor:
Our old friend Ralph Bush is once again being made a mockery of.
Before the Association of University Residence Halls Legislators' Dinner last Tuesday, we glanced at the name tags and Bush's name caught our eyes. "No, it can't be Ralph. What would he be doing here?" we asked each other. But when we heard the chairman of the group give an answer, the statement that the speaker had placed six in the nation in oratory we knew it was our good friend.
Knowing Bush as a friend and an excellent speaker, we were excited and prepared for his address on freedom. We were not disappointed. Neither were the representatives. In fact, state Rep. Lee Hamm, D-Draft, leaned over and said, "You only a senior in high school? Wow, he's good!"
Unfortunately, Brenda Darrow, AURH president, seemed highly offended or possibly intimidated by Bush's address. The University Daily Kansan reported Darrow as saying, "I was shocked and upset, I thought it was totally inappropriate." Apparently, Darrow's shock was caused by Bush's speaking on both political and religious freedom to a secular group.
We ask how much more inappropriate it was for Bush to talk of God in a public place, than for Darrow to immediately follow his speech with a rude remark like, "Well I guess I should say 'shalom' or something." She then apologized for Bush's mention of God, leaving untouched the seemingly inappropriate lobbying for a bill done by state REN. Jessie Branson. D-Lawrence.
it's ironic that the need was felt to apologize for one speaker presenting his ideas and not for the other.
The problem was not in the speakers, but in the planning of the program. Evidently, the organizers were not aware of Bush's topic. Certainly, they would not allow a speech that included questions about the war, they would have known if the speech was offensive if they would have screened him first.
They should have done this and avoided complications. Their expectations of a "run-of-the-mill high school speech about freedom" made us laugh. If that's what they want, they should have gotten a run-of-the-mill speaker. Bush is not run-of-the-mill.
Winning sixth in the nation for oration is only one of his attributes. He has excelled in debate and forensics, winning first place many times. His team's ultimate goal is it bringing God into people's lives.
We feel, as others do, that Bush's presentation at the dinner was made with grace, maturity and assurance. If AURH wanted to avoid God in a speech, they should have chosen another speaker. Could it be the lack of understanding of the situation or a sermon at all, but one person's thoughts on freedom, was embarrassment over the actual lack of planning?
If any apologizing is to be done, we feel it should be for the rudeness of Darrow's handling of the guest speaker. It is extremely unusual to ask a person to take time to drive from Kansas City, to speak at a dinner and then tell the whole audience when he's finished. "We weren't aware he was going to say that, so you can forget it," which is more or less what Darrow did.
After watching Bush mature as a speaker and a person for three years in high school, we are proud of his speech and his handling of Darrow's remarks. It is a shame that an otherwise beautiful dinner had to be marred by such petitness.
Bush is special because he is an excellent speaker, but more important, because he is a great speaker for his own beliefs. He has put up with the immaturity of kids in junior high and high school. We thought it would be different in college, with adults. Apparently, it is not.
It's funny that after giving a powerful oration on freedom that held the audience as captive listeners, Bush was knocked for expressing his own view, which had been asked for.
Jean Liveley and Kelly Howlett Kansas City, Kan., freshmen
To the Editor:
Caught in definitions
Shawn McKay's review of Phil Risbeck's posters in the Feb. 28 University Daily Kansan was quite thought-provoking; not so much for the information it contained, though that was interesting, but for the assumptions implicit in his value judgements. Risbeck's posters had the effect of causing McKay to philosophize on the nature of art.
The first curious aspect about his experience with the posters in the gallery was that he was concerned about the word used to describe them. "Art" or "commercial art"? Does the answer to that question change his experience of viewing the posters?
McKay obviously felt that it did and so proceeded to apply a "definition" of art known as abstract. He was correct.
McKay decides that the posters are well done and that Risbeth has a pretty good eye for color and photography (though I believe McKay mistakenly thinks most of those photographic images are Risbeth's—I doubt he took any of the photographs himself).
He doubted whether "private collectors" or museums would pay "large sums of money" for them. The pimming of the concept of art upon the public was not a new idea, an idea that has been put forward by Arthur Danto, George Dickie and others. It's been around for about 20 years now and is wearing thin. But since this is the only criterion McKay should, let us see how Risckeb's posters stack up.
And he finally decides that the fact he is viewing them in the Art and Design Gallery, but the Spencer Museum of Art, must be considered evidence regarding the artworld's viewpoint.
Well, Shawn, the art world is ahead of you. The Museum of Modern Art regularly purchases posters by graphic designers. In 1979, the Louvre had a "one-studio" show of one of America's best design shops—Push Pin Studio. Poupium Center has exhibited Risbeck's posters and other contemporary artwork produced for commercial purposes.
Which reminds me - if Riisbeck's posters do not demand as high a price from "private collectors" as a Baushenberg printed poster, which artist is more commercial?
No, Shawn, if you insist on taking the artwork viewpoint, I'm afraid you'll have to come and look at the posters again and see them this time as art.
Or you could simply look at them and everything else you see in the world and not ask that intriguing philosophical question—Is it art?—at all.
Then you could experience the posters as Risebeck intended for them to be experienced; fresh, alive communications that inform about a specific event and give you a little extra sense of life.
But that's getting into another theory of art.
Steven Skaggs assistant professor of design
Letters Policy
The University Daily Kansan welcomes letters to the editor. Letters should be typewritten, double-spaced and should not exceed 500 words. They should include the writer's name, address and phone number. If the writer is affiliated with the University, the letter should include his class and home town or faculty or staff position. The Kansan reserves the right to edit or reject letters.