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Greg Scott MAT’07 is 47 years old and walks around campus with a soft-sided Superman lunchbox. No, it’s not a gift from a young child at home; it was given to him by his wife, who says he’s a superman for doing what he has in the last year.
Some people may question the wisdom of the choice Scott made, but truthfully, he desired to follow his heart and do something that made him happy. And that meant leaving his 20-year career as a lawyer, making more than $150,000 a year, to go back to school and become a teacher, making less than one-third his previous income.
“I remember walking across the stage when I got my law school diploma and thinking, ‘I won’t do this forever,’” he says. “I think there’s a little voice people with advanced degrees often hear inside their heads that says, ‘Is this really what I want to do?’ For me it was a sense of full wallet, empty heart, and I can’t live like that.”
Scott enrolled this fall in Willamette’s School of Education after a year of soul-searching and figuring out his next step in life. During his long career as a civil litigation trial lawyer, he had worked for firms, corporations and the government, and often traveled across the country defending product manufacturers against civil lawsuits.
He enjoyed his career, but he reached the point that he felt something was missing, that he wanted to do something that would give him more personal fulfillment. He quit a job working for a telecommunications company and spent a year researching other career options. He recalled all the times he had written articles and given talks about his work as a lawyer. “I realized the happiest time in my job, in many ways, was doing that kind of work,” he says. “And I thought, ‘That’s teaching.’”
Scott spent his time off volunteering at high schools in Portland and Lake Oswego, where he lives with his wife and teenage daughter (his son is in college). He realized that teaching high school had a strong appeal. “What I like about high school is that it’s compulsory,” he says. “When people have to be there, it puts more of an onus on the teacher to excel at teaching. I want that challenge. The hard part is getting to the kids who don’t want to be there, who would rather be somewhere else. If you can reach one of those kids, then you’re really teaching.”
Scott’s choice to leave a high-salaried career for a job often considered underpaid is ironic considering one of his main reasons for joining the law profession was money. Scott was the second of nine children born to poor parents who had not even completed a high school education. His father spent 46 years working in factories in rural Minnesota; whenever he got laid off from a job, the family would go on food stamps. “I thought, ‘This is not what I want to do,’” Scott says. “The ticket out of a rural small town is education, so I bought a ticket.”
Scott was interested in theatre and speech, but he didn’t want to be a starving artist — he wanted to get out of poverty. So he went into law.
Even with a law degree, Scott discovered he would need more training if he wanted to be a teacher. “As I started to work with kids, I realized there’s a huge difference between speaking to a group of lawyers and speaking to a group of high school students,” he says. “I also realized there’s a big difference between knowing something and teaching about it.”
When deciding where to go to school, Scott talked with the people he thought would know best: his potential future employers. He asked school principals about where he should get his degree, and they told him that even when they were facing cutbacks on their campuses, they never turned down interviews with education students from Willamette.
That endorsement, combined with being able to earn his Master of Arts in Teaching degree in just 10 months, convinced him to enroll at Willamette. He started the program in August and already is excited about what he’s learning. “When it’s your second career, you come to it with a whole different level of commitment,” he says. “It’s not something you just fall into after college because you don’t know what to do.”
Not that the temptation of his old career doesn’t continue to pull at him. Recently Scott received a job offer from a former client looking for legal counsel — an offer with a salary comparable to his last law job. He discussed it with his wife, but then turned it down. “I realized the money could not deter me from my path,” he says. “This is what I want to do.”

College usually is an exploration of the world around us, but for Willamette University junior Lauren Pressler, it’s also an exploration of her family’s history. In the new exhibit “Ludwig Salzer: Man of Letters,” now in the Willamette Art Building, Pressler has taken a bittersweet journey into her grandfather’s little-known past. It’s a journey touched with the horror of the Holocaust and the heartbreak of lost love, lost family and a lost world, a life soured by bitterness, compromise and fear.
“It’s not your usual exhibit about the Holocaust,” she said. “It’s not a story about a hero. It’s bittersweet. What he suffered was projected on his children and me, in a sense.”
Uncovering a Life in Turmoil
Pressler’s grandfather, born into a wealthy, educated and large Viennese family, fled Austria to Shanghai, China, in 1939 after the Anschluss — the annexation of Austria by Hitler and amid increasing persecution of Jews. Salzer later immigrated to Australia and then the U.S., working in various jobs, remarrying and fathering two children.
The fate of his six brothers is unknown; his father died of typhoid in a Polish ghetto; his mother’s fate is unknown; his grandmother died at Auschwitz; and his younger sister, Ilse, escaped to England.
With the drama and turmoil of his life, including leaving behind a gentile girlfriend, Salzer repressed his past and even hid his Jewishness, avoiding contact even with his sister. He did once take his family to Austria, but Pressler remembers that he didn’t linger over the places where he and his family had lived.
Pressler obtained a $3,000 Carson Grant to investigate her grandfather’s past and had scant information from him before he died 2 1/2 years ago, suffering from Parkinson’s Disease.
“The first thing he said was, ‘I was not a hero. There are some things that needed to be forgotten,’” she said. Discovering that past became a huge accomplishment, something achieved over the past several months.
“It was a struggle,” Pressler said. “It makes my family now make a lot more sense. It was an amazing experience. I am so happy I was given the opportunity.”
Interpreting the Facts
Much of Pressler’s grant was spent translating her grandfather’s journals. Copies of the translated material are bound and available for checkout from the university library. The exhibit includes selected text from the journals as well as letters between Salzer and his family and girlfriend.
Salzer also was a collector, saving things that touched his life. There are Nazi stamps; photo albums from Austria and Shanghai; souvenirs from China and from his journey there by ship; documents such as a notice from his Viennese employer, explaining he was being let go because of Aryanization (Jews had to be fired); and personal memorabilia, such as a textile weaving he made.
Pressler has augmented the documentary material with her own acrylic and mixed-media paintings and pen-and-ink drawings, interpreting the facts artistically. Among these are a pen-and-ink drawing of her great-great grandmother, Berta, shown against the smokestacks of Auschwitz’s ovens.
Another, a large mixed-media with acrylic called “Family of Letters,” recalls the family left behind. There are profiles of Vienna landmarks, a clear depiction of Salzer in the center and vague outlines for his family members, their figures filled in with copies of their letters, mute testimony to the fragile memory of a once-vital family.
“It’s a good job,” said James Thompson, Pressler’s faculty adviser. “I’m really fascinated by it.” Thompson has visited the exhibit almost daily, finding new details. He advised Pressler to stay with the story’s essentials. “I always thought it was a really good project because it’s that interpretation of history, art and research.”
Project Still Growing
Pressler, who is from Berkeley, Calif., is not Jewish. She said her grandfather was a complex man, and among the complexities was his attitude toward his Jewish heritage. Although the young Salzer battled the Hitler Youth in the streets, giving his parents the jitters, he also was a nationalist.
“He did not feel hatred for Hitler and the Nazis,” Pressler said. “He even read Mein Kampf (My Life).” That book — Hitler’s biography and statement of his beliefs — is included in the exhibit, along with hand-colored maps of Europe that Salzer drew, charting the expanding Germany, which at one time stretched from the French coastline to Russia.
“His nationalism was in constant conflict with his Jewishness,” Pressler said. “He was very defiant and troublesome, especially for his family. He looked not Jewish.”
But Salzer finally saw the Nazis as a threat and fled Europe at 19, with $10 in his pocket, a few pieces of luggage and memories of his family. He chose Shanghai as a destination because he didn’t need a visa there.
What Salzer didn’t say to others, he did say in his journals, which offer poignant testimony to his mixed emotions, anger and despair. “He was an amazing writer, and I think that is something that should be shared with people,” Pressler said.
In researching the story, she also contacted her grandfather’s lifelong friends and surviving relatives. Salzer’s garage in Bremerton, Wash., is stuffed with his collection of belongings through the years and was another major source of materials. Pressler has three more journals that she would like to get translated. “This project isn’t done by any means,” she said.
Pressler’s exhibit has been extended past its original end date to Sept. 29. She would like it to be seen elsewhere and has offered it to Jewish synagogues and cultural centers. “I would definitely move it somewhere else,” Pressler said.
This story was written by Ron Cowan for the Statesman Journal and appeared on September 19, 2006.
© 2006, The Statesman Journal. Reprinted with permission.
![Carnegie Hall [photo by Shelley Biss]](http://blog.willamette.edu/stories/images/2006/158/headshot/Carnegie_Hall_[photo_by_Shelley_Biss].jpg)
Wallace Long led the singing in church when he was eight years old but never envisioned that he would one day be conducting on the stage of Carnegie Hall in New York City. Now one of the country’s most vibrant choral directors, Long was invited to take his Willamette choral groups to Carnegie Hall last May, where they performed Haydn’s “Mass in the Time of War” to a standing ovation.
The Willamette Chamber Choir, the Alumni Choir, Master Chorus members and high school and church choirs from Oregon and Washington were joined by Willamette alumni from around the country who flew to New York City to participate. For Tori Sutro Graham ’72, who flew from Scotland, performing at Carnegie was the “chance of a lifetime.”
When Dr. Donald Morrison ’54 received a flyer in the mail from Long, he thought, “That’s for younger people.” But his grandnephew, Willamette student Rusty Licht, had his heart set on performing with his great uncle. “He started getting after me,” Morrison said, and before Morrison knew it, Long had sent a copy of the score — complete with Latin lyrics — a CD of the music that highlighted his part, and a note of encouragement.
Behind the Scenes
Broadway and Times Square beckoned when the 250-member group arrived, but they got down to business. The first rehearsal was scheduled for 5:30 a.m. Pacific Standard Time, but no one was late. “We have a saying in chamber choir,” Long says. “ If you’re five minutes early you’re only ten minutes late.”
Daniel Bair ’99, who flew from Vermont to perform, remembers that Long’s choral classes weren’t for slackers. “Our first day in chamber choir we were given a song and told to memorize it by the next rehearsal, and our class had 100 percent attendance at 4 p.m. the Friday before spring break.”
Long expects complete dedication, and gets it — with enthusiasm. After eleven and a half hours of rehearsal, including a two-hour dress rehearsal with full orchestra, the internationally assembled choral group was ready.
On Stage
When the curtain rose, choir members poured their voices together into a performance that was, for many of them, a high point of their life.
Licht says the experience was intense and demanded total concentration. “It was critical to watch Dr. Long,” he says, “because, man, you don’t want to mess up in Carnegie Hall.” Morrison, his great uncle who led his 1954 class to Glee championships four years in a row as song director, says, “Dr. Long is extremely gifted. I think he made us sing better than some of us were capable of singing. It was a thrill for me to sing again with the same choir after 50 years.”
After the performance, choir members took a late-night cruise around the harbor under a canopy of stars. “Everyone was on an adrenalin rush from the performance,” says Licht. “Even though it was after midnight, all the lights were on in the city. Coming from Iowa, I had never seen anything like it before.”
Generations of Students Connected by Song
For many current and former students, and for Long himself, the most emotional moment was not performing on Carnegie’s stage before more than 2,000 people, or receiving a standing ovation. It was a moment that came at the close of the dress rehearsal before the concert. “I was turned around and all of the sudden I heard “Nunc Dimittis,” Long says. The piece, a quiet song that resonates with reverence, closes every performance students give. The students had spontaneously joined hands — their traditional way of performing the piece — and begun to sing.
“The love and respect each of Dr. Long’s students — both past and present — have for him was summed up in the performance of that song,” says Wendy McPhetres’93, from Washington. “I felt a strong, familiar connection between all of us at that moment, no matter how many years separated our time at Willamette.”
For the gentle and gracious choral conductor, it was a watershed moment. “As each class graduates it breaks my heart,” says Long, who keeps in touch with students long after they have graduated. “It was so emotional to see all these generations of students I love singing together.”
New York City audiences know a good thing when they hear it. The choral groups, under Long’s direction, have been invited to return to Carnegie Hall.
The 25th anniversary of the Willamette Chamber Choir will be held during Reunion Weekend 2007.

Debra J. Ringold has come a long way since her college days in Texas, when she helped organize fine arts programs on her campus. At that time, she thought she wanted to be a doctor — like her father and grandfather before her — but the job of deciding which arts programs might be popular in the community and working to bring them to campus was appealing. “I really liked it,” she says, “so at the end of my senior year, I asked someone, ‘What is this we’re doing?’ They said, ‘It’s marketing.’”
An MBA and PhD later, Ringold now teaches marketing at the Atkinson Graduate School of Management. This summer she was named chairperson of the board of directors for the American Marketing Association, the nation’s powerhouse organization for marketing professionals. She’s been a board member since 2000.
The 38,000-member organization includes academics, researchers, marketing managers and students. “We like to think of ourselves as the home for marketing professionals, regardless of the domain in which they work,” Ringold says.
That industry-wide connectivity is something Ringold wants to emphasize during her time as chairperson. An AMA conference this fall in Orlando, called Mplanet, will be a good start. This conference is unprecedented, Ringold says, in that it will bring all different types of marketing professionals together to share ideas, learn from each other and network. “If we work together, marketers can better serve their organizations’ customers,” she says.
Dedication to Research
Much of Ringold’s next year as chairperson will be spent on the road, flying to AMA meetings and events and talking with organization members to hear their ideas. “I’m really a marketer — I believe you listen to your consumers and you do what they want,” she says.
Balancing her AMA duties with her teaching responsibilities will be tough, but Ringold says she is ready for the challenge. After a yearlong sabbatical, she returned to Atkinson this fall to teach four classes. Being away from campus for the last year doesn’t mean Ringold was idle — she spent much of the time writing papers, redesigning her classes and working for some of her clients.
Research is important to Ringold, who methodically laid out a 10-year research plan for her main interest, public policy and marketing. Ringold particularly focuses on how commercial activity is regulated and how that affects consumer behavior. She has worked for the Federal Trade Commission and the U.S. Food and Drug Administration, evaluating the impact their regulations have on consumers. “American consumers are very knowledgeable about the way markets work, and they also understand their own preferences,” she says. “For the most part, they know how to get what they want from markets.”
Policy makers and business people often underestimate the intelligence of consumers, Ringold says, something she discovered in a study she conducted on how people use the nutrition facts panel on the back of food items. Her findings showed that even people without a high school education could work well with the nutrition facts panel and were good at using that panel to judge claims made by the product’s manufacturer.
For example, if a company claimed its food product was good for the heart, consumers might turn to the product’s panel and note that it was low in salt (supporting the claim) but high in saturated fat (contrary to the claim). “They were very discerning,” Ringold says. “That surprised some people. We have a tendency to underrate what consumers are capable of doing.”
Looking to the Future
Consumers’ increased attention to the products they purchase is driving one of the major changes Ringold sees happening in the marketing industry: higher customer expectations. “Consumers are never satisfied, and I think that’s a good thing,” she says. “Consumers want more satisfaction for less money, and that really pushes organizations to improve their performance.”
To react to the higher demands, businesses are asking for more accountability from their own employees and from the marketers they hire to help them, Ringold says. “Organizations are holding marketing to higher and higher standards in terms of return on their investment. Every facet of the organization is being asked, ‘How can you contribute to customer satisfaction?’”
Ringold’s passion for her field comes through in the firm yet thoughtful way she discusses it — and in the way she leans forward during conversations to fully engage the listener. Ringold’s path from college event planner to top marketing leader was obviously well chosen. “My father still wishes I had become a doctor, but I think even he appreciates how delighted I am with what I’m doing,” she says. “And that is my definition of success: doing something I like doing, and working hard at it. You just can’t beat that.”

One can find Art Professor Heidi Preuss Grew most days by following clay-dust footprints down the stairs to her studio in the Art Building, where boxes of clay stack up against red brick walls and ceramic beasts huddle. Or you can find her work on exhibit through Oct. 8 at the 2006 Oregon Biennial in the Portland Art Museum.
As a child, Grew was captivated by her German mother’s storybook. In the brooding Brothers Grimm illustrations, trolls and gnomes became almost human and humans merged into woodland animals. So perhaps it’s not surprising that Grew’s studio is filled with rough, folk-like creatures that are not quite human and not quite animal.
Fairy tales weren’t Grew’s only inspiration for her creatures. They were born in her studio after a trip to New Orleans, where she attended the last Mardi Gras before Hurricane Katrina slammed into the city.
“Mardi Gras wasn’t what I expected,” she says. She had envisioned a festival of complete bacchanal overload but found, to her surprise, that the parade route was packed with children, parents and grandparents. Colorful beads were everywhere, and people threw chocolates, rubber chickens and teddy bears from the floats. Marching bands filled the streets. “Music was a huge part of the experience,” she says, “but mostly, it was about celebration.”
Grew came back and began a series of small sketches, followed by models, followed by larger sculptures. She braided her comical figures together, imbued them with a festival air, and bonded them into family and friend groupings. They are tragic, comic, ugly and beautiful. “I find the human form inspirational,” she says, “and I often return to it. But there’s more freedom if I can employ animal attributes.”
Her beasts are now headed for an art gallery in Portland to cavort for the crowds. “How people respond to my art is more important than how I conceive it,” she says. “It changes when people see it.”
At Willamette since 1999, Grew is far from the Medieval German town where she lived as a college student, but she is not unlike the crates in her studio that are marked Ready to Ship. “Much of my inspiration happens in places where I’m not familiar with the language, the people or the landscape,” she says. “There’s a new level of perception that heightens your creativity.”
This story originally published 6 March, 2006.
Grew’s work has been exhibited in Germany, Taiwan, Korea, Japan, Poland, the Czech Republic, New Zealand and the United States. Her work will be on exhibit through Oct. 8 at the 2006 Oregon Biennial in the Portland Art Museum. Thirty-five artists were selected by the museum from a pool of more than 700. The juried show crystallizes the local art world’s latest trends and important happenings.

Willamette’s second annual Sustainability Retreat, held in August at the H.J. Andrews Experimental Forest lodge on the McKenzie River, brought 32 participants together to take the pulse of Willamette’s sustainability efforts.
Four working groups spent three days assessing sustainability as part of Willamette’s educational mission, and discussed how many tons of waste are recycled (146 tons a year), how many work vehicles on campus are electric (about two-thirds), and how much energy efficiency measures have reduced energy costs (more than half), all the while escorting stray dragonflies out of rooms and brushing ants off picnic tables.
While participants took early morning walks along the river to see spotted fawns and swapped stories under an almost-full moon, they quickly got down to business. “We’re here to develop the tools that will help take us past making decisions based solely on economic considerations,” says Economics Professor Nathan Sivers Boyce. “This retreat is intended to be the first of many assessments. It’s not a one-shot deal, but something we need to look at every year, just like a budget.”
The group set goals, with Political Science Professor Joe Bowersox, who chairs the Sustainability Council, posing the question, “What’s the balance between realism and idealism? How much can we achieve?”
Large dreams were given free expression, but the discussion wasn’t all pie in the sky. Key decision-makers from across campus were present and engaged, or corresponding from their campus offices. Sustainability efforts, initiated by President Lee Pelton in 2004, have wide buy-in across campus.
The Willamette approach to sustainability is unique. The Sustainability Council not only considers environmental decisions and their economic cost, but also brings education and equity into the discussion, looking at how sustainability is incorporated into curriculum and research, and whether we are creating a sustainable campus community based on social justice. “Our approach is different from anything I’ve ever seen,” says Environmental and Earth Science Professor Karen Arabas.
Under the Microscope
The four working groups developed indicators to assess how issues of sustainability have been incorporated into (1) curriculum, research and campus culture; (2) energy, water, transportation, food and construction; (3) purchasing and waste; and (4) health and well-being. Each group also developed goals, and a roadmap for reaching those goals.
Curriculum, Research and Campus Culture
Bowersox facilitated the discussion about how well sustainability studies have been integrated into curriculum and research. Willamette’s faculty have taught and conducted sustainability research for three decades, publishing numerous books and articles on sustainable social, economic and ecological processes. Courses, seminars and class modules on sustainability have been incorporated into the University curriculum since the 1970s, but the last 10 years have seen a proliferation of new course development and modification of existing courses.
“We have a critical mass of about 30 faculty across the university consciously incorporating questions of sustainability into their research and teaching,” Bowersox says. However, little has been done to formally track and enhance sustainability studies or assess whether student learning takes place in a culture of service and community outreach—in other words, how much we are helping to sustain our campus and local community. The goal for this year will be to obtain quantifiable data in order to make a meaningful assessment and set future goals.
Energy, Water, Transportation, Food and Construction
Arabas headed up the complex discussions about our physical footprint, which the University has made strong efforts to reduce.
The University’s food service contract with Bon Appetit has been good for the environment and the regional economy, with the company buying 80 percent of its food locally, leading to less semi traffic and pollution. Fifteen percent of the food served is organic, and the protein comes from range-fed beef, antibiotic- and hormone-free chicken, and seafood certified by Seafood Watch, according to General Manager Marc Marelich. Sixty percent of all kitchen waste is composted, and all used kitchen grease is recycled for bio-diesel.
With natural gas costs climbing 22 percent last year, energy is a significant drain on the budget. “Energy is a piece we’ve been looking at since 1985,” says Operations Manager Gary Grimm. “This isn’t new. We saved $470,000 the first five years alone, after we installed the computerized energy management system. Part of the problem is that we’re dealing with building technology from 1854 to 2006.” The current goal is to have all campus buildings metered for energy—and water—by 2007 to get a baseline. The larger goal is to reduce energy use by 50 percent by 2020. Grimm, who has a personal and professional interest in sustainability, believes it’s doable. He’s worked with students the last two years, collecting data on energy and water use, and conducting research into conservation techniques.
Willamette is also looking at fuel use in transportation and working to lessen car dependence. Given the nature of the wildly fluctuating energy-based economy, conservation and conversion to alternative fuels makes sense from a cost-benefit perspective.
Purchasing and Waste
Sivers Boyce’s group established the framework for tracking the University’s material throughput. The goal is for purchasing decisions to integrate considerations of the environmental and social impact of production as well as the cost, and to minimize waste and the impact of our waste disposal. Efforts will be made to track and reduce waste, including hazardous chemical, construction and medical waste, and to make sure wastes are disposed of in an environmentally sensitive manner. Stormwater runoff is of particular concern, as it ends up in Mill Creek or the already beleaguered Willamette River. “Our goal,” Sivers Boyce says, “is to have downstream water quality be as high as upstream water quality.”
Health and Well-Being
Psychology Professor Sue Koger headed up the health and wellness component of the retreat. “Not surprisingly, practices and products that harm the environment cause harm to humans as well,” she says. “Unsafe or unsupportive working conditions adversely affect well-being, and ultimately impair the institution’s effectiveness and even the bottom line.”
Of special concern were the toxic materials used on campus, especially in some of the arts and sciences departments, and in Facilities. Campus Safety Director Ross Stout identified three areas of concern as far as hazardous substances: purchase, use and disposal. Members of the group recommended an external assessment and establishment of oversight and enforcement policies. Simple awareness is also part of the solution; Facilities Supervisor Dan Craig has switched to non-toxic cleaning supplies, but some offices still unknowingly order toxic substances.
Ahead of the Curve
The effort to establish sustainability helped build community and commonalities campuswide. “What I like best is the effort to reach all sectors of campus,” says Community Service Learning Director Khela Singer-Adams. “We’re pulling together with a collaborative effort that will lead to tangible results, and invoking our motto [not unto ourselves alone are we born] in terms of sustainability.”
Economics Professor Don Negri was impressed with the focus on attainable outcomes. “People want to do something,” he says. “They want to continue to see a change in the culture.”
Jesse Finch Gnehm ’99, director of Parent Giving, says he’s amazed at how much has already been done. “We’re a lot further ahead of the curve than most institutions our size.”
Bowersox agreed. “We’re way beyond recycling paper,” he says. “And this gives us a comprehensive blueprint for the next steps. I think it’s becoming clear that this push makes sense for us as an institution, and a lot of decision-makers here are ready to move forward.”
Some retreat participants have already begun rethinking “business as usual.” Administrative Assistant Elizabeth Howe, for instance, has ordered locally produced, fair trade coffee for the University Relations Office and swapped out bottled water for a filter on the breakroom faucet. She says it’ll save money, reduce waste, and—according to recent exposes about the quality of bottled water—probably provide healthier water for her colleagues.
The high point of the retreat for Administrative Assistant Andrea Carlson was finding a few moments to hike an old growth trail where a small stream meandered under the rhododendron and Douglas fir. “When you’re in a place like this, anything that’s wrong all melts away,” she says. “Talking about these issues, being out here—this is good medicine.”
The retreat was facilitated by Professors Nathan Silvers Boyce, Joe Bowersox, Karen Arabas and Sue Koger, with organizational assistance from Administrative Assistant Andrea Carlson.

New Willamette University students are introduced to the campus and each other during the annual Opening Days orientation program. But for some students, that’s not enough. They want to make new friends in a smaller environment, get to know Willamette in a more intimate way, learn more about the community where they will live for the next four years.
Enter Jump Start, a pre–Opening Days program that allows new students to do all these things and more in a smaller setting. This year, about 70 students participated in the program, which is sponsored by the Student Activities, Multicultural Affairs, Campus Recreation and Community Service Learning offices.
“I figured this was a good way to get to know people and this area,” says Sam Wong, a new student from Honolulu, Hawaii. “None of my friends who are coming here enrolled in this program, so it’s helping me meet new people.”
Jump Start is voluntary, and it is divided into three groups: Ohana for multicultural students; NSOCO, or New Student Orientation to Community Outreach, for those interested in community service; and Steppin’ Out for students who want to experience the Oregon outdoors.
“When you talk to the students, they are so thankful that they came,” says Bryan Schmidt, Campus Recreation director and leader of the Steppin’ Out group. “It’s just a four- or five-day program, so you wouldn’t think it would have that much of an impact, but their stories are amazing about how it helped them open up.”
All three groups spend their nights at the 4-H Conference Center near Salem, but they divide up during the day for activities relating to their program’s theme. On the last day of Jump Start, all three groups work together on community service projects throughout the region. This year, those projects included cleaning up a neglected Japanese garden in Gresham and working at a Head Start pre-kindergarten school while meeting members of The Confederated Tribes of Grand Ronde.
One morning, the Ohana students took an extensive campus tour, beyond the typical tour given by the admission office. They learned about everything from which computer labs are easiest to use, where to go if they have a problem with someone in their dorm, or who to talk with if they are stressed.
They listened carefully as one of the Ohana student leaders, Kevin Takayama ’07, explained the intricacies of the Residence Life office. Justin Carr, a new student from Vancouver, Wash., was one of the quieter ones in the group, but he says he is glad he signed up. “It was nice coming to campus early and getting to know people before the Opening Days crush,” he says.
Across town, the group from NSOCO was visiting Colonia Libertad, a low-income housing development for farmworkers and their families. Jaime Arredondo ’05 is the community organizer at Colonia Libertad, which allows residents to run their own community with a resident board, various classes and clubs, and a vegetable garden.
The NSOCO students were all smiles as they read to and played with young children who live in the development. Sarah Devine of Corvallis, Ore., appreciated the chance to brush up on her language skills while reading to a Spanish-speaking girl. “I was working all summer, so I didn’t get a chance to do the volunteer work I wanted to do,” Devine says. “This was a good chance to do some of those things. It’s kind of a preview for where you would want to do community service during the year.”
A.J. Owens of Murrieta, Calif., says she likes the way the program orients her with Salem. “It’s nice to be able to drive around and see places, even places like Target, so I can say, ‘Now I know where that is.’”
On the last evening, the students from Steppin’ Out seemed like a cohesive group after they had spent their days hiking around Oregon and rafting on the Deschutes River. Christopher Bush, Liana Walters, Aaron Smith and Haven Webster say they have managed to make friends across different states — they come from Montana, California and Washington. “This is more comfortable because you don’t feel like you have to bond with the first person you meet at Opening Days,” Webster says. “We’ve already bonded with each other.”

When Psychology Professor Meredy Goldberg Edelson followed the data trail, she found a dead end. Her figures didn’t add up, but it wasn’t just a discrepancy between her findings and others’. Her research into autism showed something was missing — the research itself.
One of the commonly accepted tenets of autism literature is that the majority of children with autism are mentally retarded. But when Edelson’s own research showed otherwise, she began an exhaustive study of more than 60 years of autism literature. She discovered that most of the data on which researchers have based their claims is highly questionable, and in some cases there is no research whatsoever.
Her findings are especially significant because autism is assuming epidemic proportions, with the number of children diagnosed increasing more than 20 percent each year according to the U.S. Department of Health.
“When I started doing intelligence assessments on children with autism, I realized early on that you can’t use regular measures of intelligence,” Edelson says. “Typical intelligence tests require children to have good verbal skills, among other things, but since autism impairs a child’s ability to communicate with and relate to others, children with autism may not perform well.”
Edelson’s own research, using more appropriate measurements, showed that only 19 percent of the children in her sample were mentally retarded, as opposed to the 75 to 90 percent cited in psychology literature. “I began to suspect that maybe what we thought we knew about the intelligence of children with autism wasn’t accurate,” she says.
Researching the Research
Edelson decided to dive into the literature — to literally research the research. She reviewed 215 articles dating from 1937 to 2003 that made 223 claims or obtained data about the rates of mental retardation in autism. What Edelson found stopped her in her tracks. Most claims did not derive from data and could not be traced to data historically. Of those claims linked to empirical studies, most did not use appropriate measures for testing intelligence in children with autism.
“The autism field has accepted as fact that children with autism are retarded,” she says. “There are so many claims and they’re so widespread that no one has bothered to look at the data behind them.” According to Edelson, there is not a lot of data to support the claims, and the data that is available is 35 to 40 years old and is based on measures that don’t even measure intelligence. The conclusions, based on faulty data or no data at all, impact thousands of children and families.
Because retardation in children with autism has been so widely accepted, Edelson says schools and parents have lowered expectations of these children. “If we believe that that vast majority of these children are retarded, we’re not going to challenge them. We’re not going to give them opportunities.”
Challenging Ungrounded Assumptions
Edelson’s research was published this summer in the autism journal, Focus on Autism and Other Developmental Disabilities. “We were very interested in publishing Meredy’s manuscript because her research challenges a commonly accepted but rarely validated assumption regarding individuals with autism,” says Juane Heflin, associate professor at Georgia State University and co-editor of Focus. “Meredy was thorough in her approach to the empirical question and provides strong substantiation to challenge the commonly held belief.”
Aware of the potential for controversy, the journal solicited two highly respected individuals in the field and asked them to respond. “We anticipated strong reservations and were very surprised that both individuals commended Meredy for raising the question and for her careful approach to analyzing the data,” Heflin says.
The rejoinders were published in the same issue as Edelson’s article, and they not only commend her work, but also speak to its potential impact. One states, “Hopefully, her request for more extensive and objective research in this area will come to pass.”
Edelson is unfazed by the political wrangling. She just wants the truth to come out so children with autism can be helped. “I’m not saying that children with autism are or are not retarded,” she explains. “I’m just saying the literature doesn’t scientifically support the claims. In the 1950s, children with autism were institutionalized. Today we know that they have more options, from education and treatment to life plans including college and careers, marriage and children. If most children with autism aren’t retarded, we need to find ways for them to interact with society and help them become all they can.”