UMass is indifferent to town's needs

By PHIL JACKSON

Published on May 11, 2007

The University of Massachusetts was founded in 1863 and for its first century likely cohabitated benignly with the town of Amherst. At that time, Amherst had a mere 1,233 residents, and the university's academic focus was largely compatible with the region's principal form of commerce, agriculture.

In the 1960s, UMass began a period of massive expansion when Amherst's population was 13,718 residents. This expansion not only increased the size of UMass' student, faculty and staff populations, it also tripled the town's population from 13,718 in 1960 to 33,229 in 1980.

Expansion was marked by the construction of numerous academic, administrative and residential buildings, among them Herter Hall, the Whitmore Administration Building, the Campus Center and Hotel, the Fine Arts Center, and the Southwest Residential Area. Built from poured concrete, these buildings are completely incongruous with their physical surroundings and are on a scale more appropriate to an urban center. They permanently altered Amherst's landscape, and are an unsightly reminder of the consequences of unchecked growth. I'm sure Amherst was afforded little opportunity to discuss the implications of this growth.

These buildings are a visual metaphor for UMass' long-standing indifference to the town. For 143 years, UMass has enjoyed its unique status, which allows it to act independently, and at times, selfishly. As a state-funded, tax-exempt institution, it does as it pleases, neither asking for permission for its actions nor seeking forgiveness for their consequences. Like an outpost of empire, the university answers to its monarch, the Board of Regents, whose policies are enacted by their viceroy, the chancellor. The indigenous peoples, their way of life or their wants and needs are of no interest or concern to those far removed from the daily reality of their decisions.

The repercussions of this ill-conceived and mismanaged growth go far beyond the visible, however, and continue to plague the town to this day. Amherst is no longer a small town with small-town issues. We have big-city problems, many of them caused by the university. And, sadly, the university continues to turn a blind eye and deaf ear to its responsibilities in these matters.

Last fall, the community turned out twice in large numbers to express its concern with the chronic impacts for residents living near the campus, among them public drunkenness, dozens of weekend arrests, vandalism and more. Few of these are new, and some might write them off as a part of life in a college town. Some, such as the now-perennial threat of large-scale rioting should either a UMass or New England sports team win (or worse yet, lose) a championship game, have taken on new and disturbing proportions.

We were repeatedly told by UMass officials that we had been heard. We were assured that action would be taken. Despite our good-faith efforts to initiate a dialogue and obtain formal commitments to review and act on our many suggestions, no tangible progress was made. At every turn, UMass has placed bureaucratic and institutional concerns above our legitimate concerns. So another year draws to a close with no concrete action taken. And, no plans have been made for next year, either.

And so the problems that have grown steadily worse over the past half century remain, and they will not go away of their own accord. Each year that passes with them unresolved only increases the probability that one day someone - a student, a visitor or a resident - will be seriously injured, or worse. As the saying goes, "Excuses satisfy those who make them." It's time for UMass to stop protecting its own self-interests and to respond to legitimate (and long-standing) requests for intervention.

The negative consequences of having a too-large institution in a too-small community can be mitigated, but only through a comprehensive program of assimilation and acculturation. The university needs to teach students how to behave, and to foster a sense of community in its student body, on- and off-campus. When people have an affinity for a place, their behavior is consistent with the norms and social values. The university also needs to work on off-campus enforcement in those areas abutting the campus.

At this time of year, many are looking for money from the university. Not me. I'm looking for ownership. Like factory owners in the last century were forced to reduce pollution and to operate their businesses in more environmentally friendly ways, it's time for Chancellor Lombardi and the university to break with tradition. The university is not an innocent or helpless bystander. It is an institution of higher learning. Teaching should extend beyond the classroom walls.

Phil Jackson, a learning consultant, lives on Lincoln Avenue.