Valentini speaks sincerely

What first struck me as I entered 309 Havemeyer a few minutes past the scheduled start for Dean Valentini’s town hall—Milano sandwich in hand—was the dearth of students. Given, it was a school night, and student council events that don’t include some form of a door prize have notoriously sparse attendance.

But this was the dean of Columbia College. The dean who only acquired the post two and a half weeks prior after the unexpected, abrupt, and still controversial resignation of the former Dean, Michele Moody-Adams. I realize that life at Columbia is hectic and frantic much of the time, and I respect all who continue to balance it, but I will admit to being slightly disappointed, if only because moments like these don’t present themselves frequently at Columbia. In fact, although three years is perhaps much more akin to an eon by four-year college students’ standards, my memory harkened back to 2008, where I recalled mid-semester General Chemistry classes taught by Professor Parkin in the same room that filled more seats. Granted, Professor Parkin also provided more explosions.

Dean Valentini, to his credit, seemed pleased to have any audience. I’ll be the first to admit that his optimism is infectious.

He displayed such refreshing candor and joviality through the hour and a half of questioning that it was at times difficult to review his responses for meaning. To wit, my friend was quick to point out that he may have employed the phrase “I don’t know, but…” more than any administrator faced with a public setting in recent memory. To some—maybe most—it may have been disconcerting to think that the dean of such a prominent college had still much to learn. For me, conversely, his repetition of this phrase of uncertainty was actually comforting. Instead of attempting to sugarcoat the situation or feign omniscience, he acknowledged his need for further education before taking a solid stance on many issues, from the future of Frontiers of Science to the future of Columbia College as it relates to Manhattanville. Save for a late plug concocted for a young alumni donation philosophy, Dean Valentini’s public unveiling was noticeably bereft of posturing or pandering—rather, he exuded authenticity.

The only unsettling aspect of discussion was his lack of adequate response to the specifics of former Dean Moody-Adams’ startling exit. The generalized nature of her departing email, and subsequent string of school-wide administrator rebuttals that seemed to tiptoe around the true motives as well, were mentioned and cited frequently during the open microphone portion of the event. Though Dean Valentini intimated that he knew more about the process than he felt able to divulge in the setting, at least he was forthright about this fact.

And, ultimately, I found myself able to accept this response with the knowledge that while the resignation of Dean Moody-Adams is troublesome because of the concerns she voiced, the focus has to be on the future. We students are still attending classes and the University certainly hasn’t stopped sprinting; public course evaluations, smoking policy review, and protests of a wide variety of human rights violations, both domestic and international, have been only a fraction of the many issues that have recently occupied students’ extracurricular faculties and dominated recent headlines. Likewise, it’s too presumptuous at this point in time to discount the possibility that addressing current issues may have the ancillary benefit of rectifying some of the structural issues mentioned in her abbreviated farewell. Perhaps I think too optimistically—perhaps I place too much of a premium on people conveying themselves genuinely, or perhaps my conception of improving Columbia is too holistic, but I left the town hall on Tuesday night with a distinct sentiment of tangible potential. Columbia University and Columbia College can always be more attuned to student needs, and Dean Valentini ensured that everyone left his Havemeyer chat with an understanding of his personality, his character, and his passion for the student experience. Yet whether his pizzazz will translate to fruition in administrative policy, or achieving a balance in Columbia College among its interwoven constituencies of alumni, students, and administrators is difficult to presage.

Perhaps our charismatic commander-in-chief could give him some pointers on what to expect.

The author is a Columbia College senior majoring in economics. He is a University Senator for Columbia College.