Middlebury Magazine

Old Chapel

Three Taps for the Cane

By Laurie L. Patton
Illustration by Montse BernalJuly 20, 2017

This year is the 100th anniversary of the song “Gamaliel Painter’s Cane.” If you graduated from Middlebury in the last 100 years, you’ve sung it at least once. College songs are common. They’re often about the college’s location, its mission, its history, or its student body characteristics. And while Gamaliel Painter, as many of you may know, was one of the founders of Middlebury’s town and college, the song isn’t about him, really. It’s about his cane.

That’s a bit unusual. Why is a cane such a persistent symbol of Middlebury, worthy of a song (where rapping canes often provide a percussive accompaniment) that’s been sung at graduations and reunions for decades? The lyrics of the song give a bit of a history lesson.

The first verse presents the facts: “When Gamaliel Painter died, he was Middlebury’s pride, a sturdy pioneer without a stain; and he left his all by will to the college on the hill, and included in the codicil his cane.”

Gamaliel Painter was, indeed, a sturdy pioneer. He was born in Connecticut in 1742 and migrated to Vermont, where he became a highly influential member of society. He helped found both the town and the college of Middlebury; was a member of the Constitutional Convention, a county court judge, and an Addison County sheriff; and represented Middlebury in the state legislature. He deeded land to the town of Middlebury for a common and a courthouse, and he oversaw the construction of the Congregational Church and Painter Hall.

When he died he left the vast majority of his estate, including his cane, to the College.

Over time, that cane became a symbol of the College. We give replica canes to newly minted alumni—a tradition that’s come and gone over the years but has been current since 1995. The original cane is well traveled: it’s gone out to Monterey for the Middlebury Institute of International Studies Commencement, and it’s passed among new students at the first-year convocations in September and February. When I think about the number of hands that have touched Painter’s cane over the centuries, and particularly over the last two decades, I don’t think about the 217 years’ worth of germs (although it’s been pointed out to me). Rather, I think about the physical connection among so many Midd students with this piece of College history.

In later verses of “Gamaliel Painter’s Cane,” we’re told that while “his blessed bones are hid ’neath a marble pyramid” in the Middlebury cemetery next to campus, “he left to us his courage in his cane.”

I keep Painter’s original cane in a place of honor in my office where I often look at it, appreciating all it symbolizes—its history and its present relevance. I like to think that “his courage in his cane” that we sing about is the courage that Gamaliel Painter exhibited in moving from sophisticated New Haven, Connecticut, to the frontier land that was Vermont, creating connections between land and people, and generously providing for the future of Middlebury. It was also his courage to commit to an evolving community that could be challenging but that inspired enough pride of ownership that it was ultimately worthy of his estate.

Middlebury is continuing to evolve. I believe that the institution is now uniquely positioned to deliver an immersive education that will prepare all of our students to lead engaged, consequential, and creative lives and address the world’s most challenging problems in an environment that fosters work across intellectual, cultural, and geographic borders. Middlebury can and will be more flexible and more collaborative, and will be the leader in place-based experiential learning. We will deliver more opportunities for lifelong engagement with our alumni. And we must continue to be intentional in how we choose to pursue our vision and allocate our resources.

At this time of year, I hold Gamaliel Painter’s cane quite a bit—and when I hold it, I am connected to the thousands of hands that have held it before me, and that will hold it after me. With the gift of this cane in 1819 came a gift that provided stability to the College, and eventually led to a song, and a shared tradition. Equally as important came “his courage in his cane,” which will guide all of us as we move together into the future with Middlebury.

 

Laurie Patton can be reached at president@middlebury.edu.

A Robust Public Sphere

By Laurie L. Patton
March 24, 2017

In early April, I spoke to the Middlebury faculty about free speech and the public sphere. My remarks were prompted by the events of March 2, in which a scheduled talk by political scientist Charles Murray was disrupted by demonstrations. The events of that day and the ensuing debate about the value of public discourse made national news. And while I told the faculty that I would not have asked for a national platform to discuss in an urgent fashion the paramount importance of creating a robust public sphere at Middlebury, I am proud that we are having this discussion. I see it as a sign of our vitality, and I would like to share with you what I said to our faculty.

I believe that a true commitment to education must embrace an uncompromising commitment to free and open dialogue that expands understanding, challenges our assumptions, and ultimately creates a more inclusive public sphere.

Controversial speech, or speech by a controversial speaker, can be challenging in a time when the very idea of a public sphere seems fragile. Controversial speech is also more difficult in a time when issues that should be contested and addressed become exclusively owned by “the left” or “the right.” In our current state, deep educational commitments, such as exploring the history of oppression and freedom, may be difficult to share as common public goods. But they should be understood as such, and it is our responsibility to teach them and to discuss them with candor. That is the only way we can reach the truth.

There are many struggles playing themselves out on our college campuses: how does one acknowledge the discomfort that a true liberal education must entail, while at the same time recognizing and respecting the often difficult and unfair experiences of our students who have walked in the American margins? Acknowledging and honoring those margins as real spaces is essential. Honoring the study and articulation of those experiences is crucial to our well-being as a society. And in honoring those margins, we must pay attention to hurt, to offense, to accumulated injury. So, how do we relate these two fundamental values—the necessary discomfort of a liberal education, and an honoring of the difficult experiences of our students who have walked in the margins? And how do we do so in the context of free speech debates?

Geoffrey Stone, a University of Chicago Law School professor and First Amendment scholar, has cautioned that if we are permitted to silence distasteful views, we risk becoming silenced ourselves. And once censorship becomes acceptable, those most likely to be silenced are our citizens who find themselves in the minority—be they religious, racial, or political minorities.

With this in mind, I believe that if there ever was a time for Americans to take on arguments that offend us, it is now. If there ever was a time for us to challenge influential public views with better reason, better research, better logic, and better data, it is now. If there ever was a time when we needed to risk being offended, to argue back even while we are feeling afraid, to declare ourselves committed to arguing for a better society, it is now.

The questions that we encounter strike at the very heart of who we are as an institution, and we should take our time to learn, to debate, to understand, and to reflect.

In its tradition as an institution of excellence and of courageous engagement, Middlebury must find a way to connect the principles of free speech and the creation of a robust public sphere. I believe we all can agree that education is about exposing students to different ideas and giving them the skills and courage to choose between them. And I believe we all can agree that education should give students the skills and courage to make this a better world. These values are usually not in conflict. However, in our most painful moments, such as the one we experienced in early March, they were indeed conflicting.

In my view, the first of these commitments is a necessary precondition of the second. Education must be free enough to expose students to a wide range of conflicting and even disturbing ideas, for only then will we be able to give our students the wisdom, the resilience, and the courage to make this a better world.

I will work tirelessly for both inclusivity and freedom of speech. There are no more important projects than these. But this is possible only if academic freedom and freedom of speech are defended on all sides. It is only through this principle that we will enable our students to discover truth and achieve the work of making society more just, and it is only in this way that we will in the long run ensure a public sphere that is more inclusive, more vibrant, and more engaging. That is, after all, what we are most fundamentally about.