the eye

� e magazine of the Columbia Spectator23 April 2009 / vol. 6 issue 11

the nosiest professor at columbia \\\ ben folds keeps it real \\\ john jay food fi ght

also: spring fashion, p. 14

Keeping the Faitha story of four christians at columbiaby Dino Grandoni

Two weeks ago, Newsweek magazine ran one of its more dramatic cover images: a stark red cross, positioned over a black background. �e cover story’s title, “�e Decline and Fall of Christian America,” was equally severe. And yet, upon opening the magazine and reading the story, one found its argument resting upon the most meager of evidence: a cherry-picked poll, showing a 10-point drop in self-identifying Christians since 1990, and a single interview with a particularly paranoid Kentucky pastor. A survey not mentioned in the article, released by Gallup around the same time, showed a significantly smaller rate of Christianity’s diminution, one that would preserve its demographic majority for a long time—through the year 2185, if you do the math. �e Christian religion may be slowly on the decline in America, but no matter what Newsweek says, it’s hardly about to fall.

Columbia, though, has been fallen for a while; the Christian consensus that informed the school’s founding has long since dissolved. (�ought

experiment: Imagine anyone defending Columbia’s motto—“In �y light shall we see light”—as anything other than a quaint remembrance of a simpler, less secular time.) Professors who broach the subject of religion in class almost uniformly do so with a supercilious air, and “postmodern, post-Christian, post-Western” ideas, which the clergyman interviewed in Newsweek so intensely feared, essentially constitute University-wide doctrine.

Our cover story this week, written by Dino Grandoni, is not a Newsweek-like account of the statistical prevalence of Christianity at Columbia. Rather, it’s a close look at what happens to individual believers when the telos that Newsweek portended actually transpires—when the Christians in a community become a quiet, little-known minority. Grandoni’s article tells the story—four stories, actually, from four different students—of faith challenged, faith preserved, and ultimately, faith strengthened.

—�omas Rhiel

LETTER FROM THE EDITORKEEPING THE FAITH

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\\\ EYESITESKeeping Culture Alive Ted Griswold

A Nose for Research Elizabeth Robinson

Mind-FULL-ness Gaela Braun

\\\ EYE TO EYEAway from Normal Zach Dyer

For four Columbians, Christianity unites, defines, and differentiates, pg. 07

by Dino Grandonicover photo by Joey Shemuel

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ARTS\\\ FOODSwipe Ethics Jenn Mayer

\\\ DANCEPirouetting Professors Mollie Lobl

\\\ STYLESpot the Difference Helen Werbe

Editor-in-Chief Thomas Rhiel

Managing Editor, Features Melanie Jones

Managing Editor, A & E Hillary Busis

Deputy Editor, Features Raphael Pope-Sussman

Senior Design Editor Meredith Perry

Photo Editor Kristina Budelis

Online Editors Ryan Bubinski Laura Torre

Eyesites Editor Carla Vass

Contributing Ideas Editor Jia Ahmad

Interview Editor Zach Dyer Film EditorPeter Labuza

Music Editor Rebecca Pattiz

Books Editor Yin Yin Lu Food Editor Devin Briski Art Editor Hannah Yudkin

�eater Editor Ruthie Fierberg Dance EditorCatherine Rice TV EditorChristine Jordan Style Editor Helen Werbe Production AssociatesAlexander Ivey Talia Sinkinson Shaowei Wang

Photo AssociateVitaly Druker

Copy Editors Wesley Birdsall Katrin Nusshold Spectator Editor-in-Chief Melissa Repko

Spectator Managing Editor Elizabeth Simins

Spectator Publisher Julia Feldberg

Contact Us:eye@columbiaspectator.comeye.columbiaspectator.comEditorial: (212) 854-9547Advertising: (212) 854-9558

© 2009 �e Eye, Spectator Publishing Company, Inc.

FEATURES

Submit your creative writing to �e Eye.

We are now accepting short stories, narrative non-fiction, and humorous essays. For more information, e-mail eye@columbiaspectator.com.

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What We’re Into �is Week1. Lifebooker.com: I can book manicures, haircuts, waxing—basically anything beauty-related, right online, which is super convenient. And many if not most of the services are discounted by as much as 75 percent. It has helped me survive the freshman nightmare of finding new people to do all of my beauty stuff after moving from Dallas to New York!

-Meredith Perry, senior design editor

2. “French Navy” by Camera Obscura: �e first single from these indie sweethearts’ new album should be on every spring playlist.

- Christine Jordan, TV editor

3. Snood: Go get your procrastination and nostalgia fix today!

-Devin Briski, food editor

4. Central Park when the weather is warm: Some-times, it’s nice to remember that the best things in New York are free.

-Carla Vass, eyesites editor

5. 24 in NYC: Next season will take Jack Bauer from Washington, D.C. to our own backyard. How will Jack stop serum gas from killing the poor students in Butler? �e possibilities are endless.

-Peter Labuza, film editor

6. Geosense.net: Test your knowledge of geogra-phy against strangers (or friends) across the globe. Spectacularly addictive.

-Raphael Pope-Sussman, deputy features editor

7. Skyr: Yogurt is weird, but Skyr—an Icelandic yogurt that Wikipedia says is technically a kind of cheese—is even weirder. It’s thick, sour in a Pink-berry sort of way, and, with a cup of coffee, makes a great quick breakfast.

-�omas Rhiel, editor-in-chief

8. “Sober”: P!nk’s new single from her album Fun-house is honest and addictively catchy. �e music video is also much better than the over-hyped “So What.”

- Melanie Jones, managing editor, features

9. �e new Yankee Stadium: Although I am not par-ticularly fond of baseball, much less the Yankees, I went to their game last Friday against the Cleveland Indians (my friend had an extra ticket). It was worth it just to see the stadium- it’s an architectural masterpiece!

-Yin Yin Lu, books editor

10. Group hugs: When you are feeling kind of down, or even when you’re not, group hugs are a fantastic way to at least feel like you are surrounded by people who love you and want to hug you.

-Ruthie Fierberg, theater editor

EDITORS’ TEN

I recently visited the rural community of San Clemente de Ibarra, where I had the opportunity to share in indigenous Ecuadorian lifestyle and under-standing.

Until recently, many rural indigenous communi-ties were plagued by the hacienda system, which predominantly wealthy European and Mestizo estate owners used to exploit resources, land, and labor.

Like many parts of the world where populations were oppressed by European colonial systems, Ec-uador is still afflicted by a racist colonial psychology that values Western culture and genotype the most and native culture and blood the least.

Long after Ecuador gained its independence from Spain, indigenous people were still being disrespected and disenfranchised by the national government. �ose who were illiterate or did not speak Spanish did not gain the right to vote until 1979. Many internalized the racist mentality that their culture was inferior to the European ideal, and few people identified them-selves as “indigenous” with pride.

In 1986, however, the indigenous people rallied to form the Confederation of Indigenous Nationali-ties of Ecuador (CONAIE). �eir movement, called el levantamiento, has helped to unite Ecuador’s 14 unique indigenous nations, each of which has its own language, culture and territories.

CONAIE has succeeded in securing legally recog-nized titles for ancestral territory, posing opposition to oil companies who have destroyed communal lands, and legalizing bilingual public schools.

San Clemente de Ibarra is a beautiful pueblo of about 200 Kichwas, located at the foot of the Imba-bura Volcano. Like many indigenous communities, the people of San Clemente suffered under the own-ership of a wealthy haciendero, who forced them to work for little more than food and shelter.

�e current town leader can still picture his father being whipped for working too slowly, and remem-bers when the workers decided to strike and reclaim their ancestral lands and resources.

Despite years of exploitation, the people of San Clemente have retained much of their culture through language, music, religious ceremonies, clothing, and an agricultural lifestyle. �e women wear colorful, home-embroidered dresses, the men wear ponchos, and nearly all of the adults wear the now-traditional felt-brimmed hats.

I stayed for four days with the Pupiales family, made up of Matias, Magdalena, and their children Inti (14), Sumak (12), Flor Sabina (10) and Eddie (7). Ma-tias built their house, which sits surrounded by farm animals, alongside the single cobbled road that runs about a mile up the slope of the volcano through all of San Clemente to the town meetinghouse, church, and school.

Each morning Inti and Sumak wake up at five. �ey walk up the hill to get milk from a neighbor’s

cows and to collect eggs from the Pupiales’ dozen chickens before heading off to school. Magdalena cooks breakfast tortillas over the smoldering embers, and then wakes the two younger children so they can eat and catch a bus to school. Matias leads the llamas and sheep out to the field, then takes a bus to his job in the valley below.

Saturday nights, Inti and Sumak attend a weekly reunion where town members discuss common is-sues and vote on solutions.

�at Saturday, it was the absence of bilingual education in the elementary school. It was legal-ized and began receiving federal funding in 1989, but many communities still have difficulty finding teach-ers who have received government approval to teach in indigenous languages.

�e Pupiales’ children understand Kichwa, but are not fluent. Many indigenous parents and commu-nity leaders are worried that without better bilingual education, their languages will lose relevance and begin to die out.

And without the oral tradition, the elders will not be able to pass on their knowledge of their culture and history to the next generation. Losing Kichwa and the Andean indigenous tradition seemed much more likely, however, before levantamiento strengthened the fight for equality in the late 1980’s.

I saw such pride in the Puipiales children when they eagerly showed me pictures of Inti Raymi, the annual “festival of the sun,” and invited me to return and join the celebration in late June. On our sec-ond day in San Clemente, we all joined to perform a Pachamanka, which is a feast of maiz, platanos, po-tatoes, and meats cooked in a deep hole in the ground filled with red-hot stones. As the food cooked for hours, we played music and danced over the mound of dirt that covered the oven.

Many indigenous communities have begun to host small groups of tourists and students to share in their culture. As long as such interactions remain mutu-ally respectful, and as long as bilingual education programs continue to improve, I believe Ecuador’s indigenous nations will not only retain their language and tradition, but will continue to create new culture and art, in dialogue with the Mestizo community and with the rest of the world.

Ted Griswold is a Columbia College junior study-ing abroad in Ecuador.

Keeping Culture Alive TEXT AND PHOTO BY TED GRISWOLD

THE EYE ABROAD

COMPILED BY CARLA VASS

A Nose for Research

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When you were a kid and a friend asked you, “If you had to lose one of your five senses, which would you choose?” you undoubtedly chose smell. �e olfactory system, which includes your nose and the areas of the brain that enable you to inter-pret scents, has always been a bit of an underdog. In the laboratory of Columbia neuroscientist and professor Dr. Stuart Firestein, however, the nose becomes a window into the secret lives of neurons.

Don’t let his broody walk and the quintes-sential grey-professor-hair fool you. Firestein is a decidedly West Coast intellectual. His manner is easy and, when it comes to research, he’s in it for the adventure. “I’m really interested in the brain,” he says, “but that’s too big, so I’ve picked on a part of it, which is the nose.” He studies olfaction not only as a sensory system, but also as a model for some of the brain’s most fundamental and mysterious processes.

Currently, Firestein and his team have two major research topics: development and aging. Using the mouse olfactory system as a model, they

are exploring how the growth of new brain cells is regulated and tracking how neurons move and change over time.

�ese topics are difficult to study in humans because they take, well, a lifetime. �e short lifespan of the mouse (about 18 months) makes it possible for scientists to study the processes of brain development and aging as discrete, repli-cable phenomena.

�e olfactory system is a particularly apt model for development because it has an unparalleled ability to make new neurons. While most areas of your brain are lucky to gain a few neurons per year, the olfactory system gets 30,000 new cells a day. “�at’s a lot of neurons. You’d think it would

itch or something,” jokes Firestein. �e large-scale proliferation, and the quick turnover (each neuron lives only 3 to 4 months), make the olfac-tory system an efficient model for human develop-ment and aging.

“For us,” he says, “the question is not only how do these cells regenerate, but how do the new cells integrate into an existing brain. �at’s a big question.” �ere are between 300 and 1,000 dif-ferent kinds of neurons in your nose, each detect-ing a different smell and sending a message along a specific pathway to the brain. Firestein is trying to figure out how new cells are able to replace

older cells to such an extent and so quickly in this complicated network.

Firestein studies this process by tagging certain neurons and following them around the olfactory system. He uses a marker called green fluorescent protein that, once delivered to a neuron, makes it glow green whenever a UV light is shined on it. “If we inject on Wednesday, we can look at the mouse six months later, and know that the marked cells were born at 4:00 in the afternoon on Wednes-day April 8th. �is gives us a way of birth-dating cells.” Firestein uses this technique whenever he needs to see where a neuron is going.

Right now, Firestein’s lab is carrying out an experiment to explore how the production and integration of new neurons in the olfactory system is regulated. Using a technique similar to radia-tion therapy for cancer, they destroy the new olfactory neurons being produced in the brain and track the unscathed, mature neurons to see how they respond and if they still die off at their usual rate. “Results are never as clear as you’d like,” says Firestein, “[But] if you cut off the supply of new cells, the old cells seem to know this and they stay around much longer.” His team is working to uncover how this regulation system works, and whether it can shed light on how neurons “know” where to go in an already-established system.

In another vein of research, Firestein asks: Does the ability to produce new cells decrease as an animal ages? When a mouse is about a year old (approximately 50 in human years), it stops producing as many new olfactory neurons. If the mature neurons in an aged mouse’s nose are destroyed, however, it starts producing new ones at a much faster rate in order to compensate. �e capacity to produce new cells is not lost, it’s just turned off somehow.

“One wonders, is this happening to us? Even in our skin: As a person gets older, their skin loses elasticity, loses tone, but if you cut them, they heal—they do make new skin cells. And is that what’s going on in our organs?”

One topic that Firestein hasn’t yet examined is just as intriguing: why smell is the only sense connected directly to the primitive brain struc-tures that govern emotion and memory. Your nose is why catching a whiff of your ex’s cologne gives you a much more vivid, visceral memory than hearing their name or seeing their picture.

Firestein has decided to put off this question for the moment. “It’s another area that interests us, and I’m sure we’ll get to it eventually,” he says. Even when he’s looking through a microscope, Firestein has his eye on the big picture: how olfac-tion relates to the brain as a whole. With his daring approach to research, the underdog of the senses may become the model for the greatest mysteries of neuroscience. a

BY ELIZABETH ROBINSONPHOTO COURTESY OF BIOLOGICAL SCIENCES AT COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY

IDEAS

Dr. Firestein (center) and his lab members.

using the olfactory system to unlock the mind

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I used to think that meditation was weird. I couldn’t help but picture an old man with a beard sitting on a mountain somewhere chant-ing into the distance, a figure like Maharishi Mahesh Yogi, with his long, white, flowing beard, floor-length robe, and all knowing eyes staring down at me.

But since the practice once reserved for the spiritual elite had become more mainstream, I felt capable and open to its benefits. I didn’t turn to meditation because it was a fad. I began practicing out of necessity.

College life is extremely stressful, and it is easy to put one’s work ahead of oneself. Half-way through my junior year, I found myself so focused on doing well in school and build-ing my resume that I didn’t even have time for my friends. It was becoming harder for me to focus. I was agitated, and I was anxious.

Normally I would have headed to the gym to work off some steam, but trips to the Dodge Fitness Center left me feeling more like a gerbil in a cage than a rejuvenated human being. Needless to say, a change needed to be made.And so I embarked on a search for one of the world’s most ancient natural remedies.

Although meditation is traditionally used for religious growth, I was more concerned with using it to relieve stress and find peace of mind, especially in the heightened, fast-paced world of New York City. Other than a few yoga classes, where my main instructions were to close my eyes and focus on my breathing, I had no experi-ence meditating—especially not as a solitary act.

I wasn’t sure how to begin, so naturally, I Googled it, and found myself in a virtual world of guided meditation.

There were step-by-step numbered guide-lines for hundreds of variations. There were podcasts featuring chirpy Wisconsin accents: “Find a place where you can be alone. It would be nice if it could be somewhere other than where you normally spend your time. If that’s not possible, move to another area of the room.”

I found myself content to leave my computer aside, and begin a simple practice of restful breathing, focusing my attention inward, for 15-20 minutes a day. After all, Buddha didn’t reach a state of nirvana using audio recordings, or any technology for that matter.

One would think that sitting comfortably upright with eyes closed, focusing on gentle breathing, would be simple enough. On my first

attempt to meditate, however, I ran into incred-ible resistance. It began even before I sat down. The thought of silence, or rather the state of be-ing awake but at peace, was terrifying.

Never in my life had I experienced this so-called “fourth state of consciousness.” We spend the majority of our lives with our atten-tion focused outward, and I didn’t know what turning my attention inward might reveal.

In The Direct Path, one of the books I con-sulted on my journey, author Andrew Harvey writes, “To sit in meditation ... is to invite the discovery of your essential self beyond the mind.” Even when we are in simple meditation, just sitting and breathing, we are also starting to “drop below the surface of consciousness and become concentrated on one thing and one thing alone: our authentic identity.”

Although this possible discovery was unset-tling, I overcame my anxieties. In doing so, I discovered an inner calm which I’d assumed had been sapped dry.

Not to say that my mind was totally at ease. I found myself pondering experiences I thought had long been forgotten. In Buddhism this is known as “monkey-mind,” where one finds his or her mind jumping from thought to thought like a monkey from tree to tree.

While some days are easier than others, the relaxation I experience is a godsend. After practicing meditation for only a few months, I can already feel the rewards. My mind is clearer, I have increased energy, and I am more open to my surroundings.

Although I originally had difficulty keep-ing my thoughts from spinning, it gets easier every time. My goal of 20 minutes a day comes more easily, and my initial tendency to squint through closed eyes to check the clock has vir-tually disappeared.

Now that I am more comfortable with medi-tation, I find that the time I spend practicing passes more quickly. By giving myself permis-sion to just be, with no outside distractions, I feel healthier and happier. Most importantly, meditation keeps me grounded and reminds me to breathe well throughout the day, keeping my stress in check.

I recently attended the Transcendental Meditation benefit concert, a highly antici-pated event held at Radio City Music Hall. The concert underscored how far meditation has come in mainstream culture. The charity event was produced by The David Lynch Foundation, which aims to teach one million at-risk youths to meditate.

It also reunited Paul McCartney and Ringo Starr for the first time in seven years. McCart-ney said, “It started for us when we met the Maharishi in India, and it’s going to get bigger and bigger and rule the world.”

In my case, the Internet took the place of a personal guru, but however one begins to prac-tice meditation, it will ideally lead to greater self-awareness and to the higher state of con-sciousness, one which has the power to unite us all. For once in my life, I find myself eager to follow the masses. a

Mind-FULL-ness

BY GAELA BRAUN ILLUSTRATION BY REBEKAH KIM

THE VIEW FROM HERE / ESSAY

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Singer-songwriter Ben Folds is known for defying music industry conventions. From improvising at his concerts to leaking a fake version of his album Way to Normal months before its release, Folds does what he wants—unapologetically. His two latest albums, an all-a cappella album and a two-disc re-release, have pushed the envelope even further. Ben Folds Pres-ents: University A Cappella! features 14 recordings of university a cappella groups around the country, and 2 original a cappella tracks. Zach Dyer chats with Ben Folds about the industry, the challenges of a cappella, and keeping it real.

What exactly was your motivation behind the Stems and Seeds release?�e Stems and Seeds project is a little unusual and kind of unexpected. What happened there, is that we’ve all seen the argument—or at least if you are an audiophile or a nerd, someone who cares about good sonic reproduction—that you’ve seen albums get louder and louder over the last five to 10 years. It’s been going up and up. And it’s kind of like the frog boiling in the water and not knowing when it happened, that he was boiling. So when my record Way to Normal came out, it was decid-edly loud—that was the idea. We were producing the record and that was the idea; we wanted it

surprisingly loud and crunchy for a piano-pop record. But a lot of my fans were playing it back on nice stereo equipment and were bumming because they weren’t really hearing the music as much as they were hearing the distortion and the crunch.

�ey didn’t really think that it suited the album, and I couldn’t really disagree with them about the overall trend that music is getting visibly too loud. It’s just gratuitous loudness. It’s there to compete with other records. ... �e gist of it is that I thought I had the opportunity to give them an-other look at the record. So we went back into the studio to gather stems, which, for the uninitiated or those who don’t know much about multitrack recording, it’s basically multitrack files of the record so that anybody with a laptop computer can put this in and remix the record. �at gives someone the idea of what goes on in inside the recording of a record, which is cool.

�e other thing is while we were working with the tracks, my engineer and I remixed them at a quieter, more dynamic level so that people could have a master that was classically more dynamic and quieter. �en, while we were at it, we threw on the fake tracks we had recorded.

And what about the a cappella album—why did that one happen?Well, I realized that these college a cappella groups were covering my music and doing a really good job of it and it just made sense to me to reach out and say, “let’s reach out and get the best ones, and put them out on a record.” And then I got more involved than I expected to, because I realized that if I really wanted to record this well, I needed to get out there and pro-duce it. So my engineer and I, once again, got to work and basically, through my vacation time, drove, flew, took planes, trains—whatever it took to get to these universities and record these groups myself.

You performed with one of Columbia’s own a cap-pella groups, Uptown Vocal, a couple of weeks ago as part of a tour of universities. What’s it like to perform with these college a cappella groups?It’s great having them open up for me. We’ve done it at a lot of shows now, and it’s really cool, be-cause most of the time, it’s a university audience, so the audience in general is curious and proud of the group, and they kick ass! A cappella groups

are essentially doing modern folk music. �ey are picking the songs that kind of speak; it might be an R&B song or all kinds of stuff. It’s cool, I love those groups!

What was it like recording a cappella songs of your own for your most recent album?Well, it’s really difficult. Especially difficult for me, or someone who isn’t already in an a cappella group. I learned a lot from the groups: I recorded them for a month or so and got familiar with their methods. I really got a basic training tutorial on the whole thing. But then, when I did it for myself, I had to multitrack and overdub all my own vocals, and that’s really time consuming and difficult.

For Stems and Seeds, you responded directly to fan criticism. Why was that so important to you, and do you think it’s something others should do?Well, you can’t respond to everything that comes up, and I don’t think there’s much art in being a by-re-quest artist. You can’t respond to every, “Hey, why don’t you change this word, why don’t you do this and that?” In this case, I couldn’t disagree—I’m really sympathetic to the cause of getting music to a really dynamic level. I think that’s a great cause. I’m sick of putting on records or CDs that basically have no dynamics left and sound totally programmed on the grids. I think it has gone too far.

Whether mine should have been a poster child for that or not is debatable, but I just feel like, well, hell, they’re right, let’s give them a quieter version—that’s cool. I think that the reason ours was like that was an effect. It’s not like I’m giving a correction, like, “Oh, sorry! Never mind that record, here’s the real one!” It’s just like, oh, I totally sympathize, and I can give you an alternate version of that record, and I had time to do it, so I don’t mind doing it. It’s kind of a rarity though, it’s not something I expect to be doing again.

�roughout your career, but since your last album, Way to Normal, especially, you have departed from industry standards. Do you ever feel pressure to stick to a certain program that is dictated by the music industry?Well, I think there are times to stick to the program, and I don’t think the program’s so bad all the time. I mean the program is the structure, and when I have an opportunity to do something that occurs to me—to do something risky—I do it. I mean all these things are risky because they add up, if you release records the way I release them.

I’ll give you an example. �ere was a show in another territory that I was interested in doing, in an orchestral setting, and we know that I sell enough tickets to do it, but it all got messed up and turned-down because they opened up sales figures and saw that the last record I put out didn’t sell well, and you know, it wasn’t even a real record. But people really go on numbers, and they go on these things. You go off the program for a little bit and it makes business tough, first of all, and con-fuses the people you work with, so it is risky—but it’s probably riskier not to do the ideas you have. What kind of example do I set if I don’t follow my heart and do the things that I think are interesting, that I’d like to hear? So what if they don’t sell that much? At the end of the day, I’ve still got a job, so I’ll be fine. a

Away from Normal

BY ZACH DYERPHOTO COURTESY OF BIG HASSLE MEDIA

the eye interviews ben folds

“WHAT KIND OF EXAMPLE DO I SET IF I DON’T FOLLOW MY HEART AND DO THE THINGS THAT I THINK ARE INTERESTING?”

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Yasmin Kahan-Groves is out on Low Steps with some friends. �is would be ordi-nary on any other spring afternoon, but today it’s a chilly 42 degrees, and they’re

the only ones braving the cold.�e Columbia College sophomore is coordinat-

ing Recharge on the Steps, a two-day event during which Christians at Columbia gather in front of Low Library. �ey play music and distribute candy to get people excited for Easter Sunday. �e playl-ist includes secular artists like Marvin Gaye, Gnarls Barkley, and �e Beatles, as well as contemporary Christian musicians.

�e event on the steps, new this year, is Yas-min’s brainchild. She wants to share the meaning of Easter, which she says “is all about the world being one way and then a new sense of life coming into the world.” Yet despite the entreaties, most students who walk past show no interest in the free food.

Two days after Recharge, on Good Friday, Remnant Christian Fellowship erected a white cross in front of Alma Mater from noon to 3 p.m. When Bwog posted a photograph of the event, commenters swarmed. In the comment thread, one student decried the fellowship for presuming it was “on everyone’s mind that it’s Good Friday.” Others had harsh words for the Christian faith it-self: “isn’t Jesus just a tiny bit presumptuous to go dying for my sins, when I wasn’t even to be born for another two thousand years?”

Because we rarely think of Christians as a minority, it’s easy to dismiss these comments as the harmless mutterings of the anonymous masses. But at Columbia, devout Christians are

not a large group, and they are often dispar-aged. In a Contemporary Civilization discussion on Christian writers like Paul or Augustine, the tenor of the discourse is critical, if not openly hostile to the articles of Christian faith. Oc-casionally, a student will speak up to defend Aquinas’ theology, or to explain his belief in God. But for the most part, Christians remain a silent minority.

Yet for all the classroom badgering and com-ment-thread abuse, the Christian community, small and silent, maintains a robust faith. Adver-sity defines the Christian experience at Columbia: To be a Christian here is to question one’s faith and to be questioned about it. For Yasmin, and for the three other students profiled in this article, that questioning cuts to the core of their beliefs. But it also strengthens them.

A few days before Holy Week, about 100 students gather together to worship at St. Paul’s. �e students give the cen-tury-old chapel—modeled after the

churches of the Italian Renaissance—a distinctly 21st-century feel. A band plays contemporary Christian music for the praise portion of the event and speakers touch on a variety of topics that might appeal to the modern Christian—social jus-tice, interfaith dialogue, environmentalism.

One of the attendees is Sy Hoekstra, a junior in Columbia College and a member of InterVarsity Christian Fellowship. To keep it simple, Sy will tell you he is from New Jersey. �ough he lived for the longest time there, he was born in North Dakota and went to high school in Switzerland. Sy attended an international school, one of only two English-speaking schools in Zurich. He wanted to come back to the U.S. for college, and chose Columbia for the academics—religion did not play a role in his decision.

When asked about his faith, he responds delib-erately, in a sure, attentive baritone. Although Sy

comes from a Christian family, he says he didn’t care much about religion in his early years: “I was very much what I would call a nominal Christian. Just sort of culturally I went to church, I went to youth group.” It was during time in Europe that Sy found God.

“At some point in 10th grade I started real-izing that ... I said I believed in God and I said I believed in Jesus’ resurrection and all these other things—but I didn’t do anything about them.” So Sy took an IB introductory philosophy course and started reading some Christian books—by C. S. Lewis, Charles Colson, and others—that his father had given him. He joined a service project to help impoverished Eastern Europeans. But he felt the other participants were, like him, Christian in name only.

So he did something radical: He decided to try being Christian for a week. He acknowledges now that “it was a naïve way to go about it,” but by the end of the week, on April 10, 2005—he remembers the date—he got down on his knees to pray. On that day, Sy says, he became a Christian. He was born again.

He continued to develop his faith throughout high school, but, he insists, the process was not easy. Sy particularly struggled to accept the doc-trine of hell. How could a loving God, he asked, condemn his creation to eternal suffering? It’s a question with which Sy still grapples. He admits it “doesn’t make any sense” to him, but believes that “ultimately, God has a bigger perspective.”

�eological puzzles—like the existence of hell—have profoundly shaped Sy’s faith. He places a premium on the intellectual rigor of his beliefs. �at’s one reason he’s the chair of the Veritas Forum at Columbia, a thoroughgoing, nationally sponsored student group that holds three weekly “study breaks” where members come together to discuss or debate religion. Group leaders center each conversation on a question, which can run from the mundane (What did you do this week?) to the profound (Does God exist?).

Monday nights, you’ll find Sy in the lounge of 2A Hartley. Tonight he has his walking cane, though in most rooms he’s familiar with—like the nave at St. Paul’s—he doesn’t need it. Were the campus less congested, he says, he would be able to get around without the cane. Sy is blind in one eye. He sees poorly out of the other.

�e question at tonight’s discussion: What’s in a name? His surname, “Hoekstra,” isn’t thrilling: Dutch for “those living at the corner of the street.”

While Veritas is a Christian organization, all undergraduates are encouraged to attend. In fact, only three of the roughly 10 regulars at Monday night’s group are Christian. The pur-pose of these forums is to debate philosophical and practical issues and a point is made that the conversation remain cordial. But those who are not Christian are still outspoken. “They’re not afraid to challenge what I think,” Sy says. “And I actually like that.”

�ese group discussions, he says, allow him to explore his beliefs both spiritually and intellectu-ally. Columbia’s academics too have provided him a chance to contemplate his faith. In Contempo-rary Civilization, he was introduced to a range of interpretations of Christianity. When his peers ob-jected to articles of Christian faith, Sy was forced

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ON THAT DAY, HE BECAME A CHRISTIAN. HE WAS BORN AGAIN.

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to analyze and sharpen his own beliefs.“It kind of revitalizes what you do and what

you believe when you’re a minority because you’re sort of forced to be smarter with your faith,” he says. “You’re going to have to answer them at least enough to satisfy yourself.”

Two summers ago, Sy worked for a fellow-ship that rehabilitates prisoners and ex-convicts. Last year, he spent the summer at the New York City Urban Project, which advocates for the city’s homeless and poor.

He enjoyed that work, but like most Co-lumbians, he is still not sure what he’ll do after graduation. “Sometimes I want to go to seminary, sometimes I want to do grad student work in his-tory, sometimes I want to do Teach for America. I have lots of different options and I’m kind of just waiting for God to tell me where to go.”

The song begins with a rattling, then a humming, soon recognizable as a saxo-phone. �e sax plays over some tribal music from an old record. It meanders

into dissonance, and abruptly stops. A classi-cal melody rises and the song swings back and forth, between snippets of vernacular and classical music.

Jerome Ellis, a sophomore in CC, composed this patchwork of Renaissance hymns, Southern

gospel, and South American worship music. He calls it “Hymnal.” Earlier this year, he performed the piece at an art auction in Atlanta. He’ll play it again later this April at Earl Hall and it’s scheduled to hit the airwaves in the near future on WKCR.

“Hymnal” is inspired from a book of Baptist hymns Jerome’s mother gave to him, though the song does not include any hymns. “�e piece,” Jerome says, “is really about how people use sound to worship—to go higher in a sense.” It incorporates two distinct ways of worshipping through song: percussive, ritual chants of South America, and somber, prayerful classical music of the Renaissance. �e careful weaving of these musical strands speaks to the power of music to inspire faith, and Jerome hopes that his composi-tion is “an act of love, to give this gift to whoev-er’s listening.”

Jerome came to Columbia, in part, because he has family in the city—his grandfather runs the Faith Redeeming Church of God in Brook-lyn. When he was young, religion was something Jerome practiced “by default,” but by the end of high school he began to take his faith more seriously. Now that he’s in New York, he has the chance to attend services at Faith Redeeming. “It’s really amazing,” he says, to hear his grand-father “deliver the Word ... with the same fervor he’s been doing for 60 years.” On Sundays, after church, Jerome joins his family for dinner at his grandparents’.

During the week, though, he faces a campus that’s not always friendly to his faith. He senses an antagonism here, but thinks that it is symp-tomatic of Columbians’ general cynicism, that “the campus is hostile towards everything.” But he also takes issue with the way many Christians treat others. “I think Christians often go about interacting with people in the wrong way,” he says. “Often they’ll be openly judgmental to-wards people who aren’t Christians.” And while a few Christians’ actions don’t necessarily give the whole religion a bad name, Jerome thinks they do

affect outsiders’ perception.At Columbia, then, Jerome is cautious not to

alienate his peers. In Contemporary Civilization, for example, he has been exposed to the Christian writings, but also to rancor from his classmates. He’s found much value in writers like Kant, who discuss Scripture outside the context of religion. However, he chooses to distance himself from taking a theist stance when talking about Chris-tian authors. “I would defend, or try to defend, what they were trying to say but I wouldn’t make it personal,” he says. “I don’t see it as a matter of hiding it, but I don’t think in those discussions it’s always necessary to bring yourself into it.”

�at sort of expression is something Jerome saves for his music. “I think the most important part of my faith would be pouring God’s love on everybody,” he says. “I really believe in Jesus’ two commandments about loving God with all your heart and soul and mind and your neighbor—I thinks that’s the most important thing—and I’d begun to see music like that.”

At St. Paul’s, Yasmin sways in the aisles to the house band. She dances to Stevie Wonder on Low Steps. On a campus so often filled with discontent, her

warmth is striking.A few days after Recharge, curled in Lerner

Hall’s piano lounge, she waves several times mid-sentence to half a dozen passers-by. Her gentle smile puts you at ease, a reflection of her faith.

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“THE PIECE IS REALLY ABOUT HOW PEOPLE USE SOUND TO WORSHIP—TO GO HIGHER IN A SENSE.”

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IT’S ABOUT THE LIFE YOU LIVE, NOT THE DOGMA YOU FOLLOW.

“One of the things that Jesus talks about in the Gospel,” she says, “is that your faith should show up in the way that you act.” It’s about the life you live, not the dogma you follow. �ough she ac-cepts the tenets of Christianity, Yasmin shuns the term “religious, ” which she says only suggests the “structure of things”—the laws to obey and rituals to follow. She prefers the word “spiritual,” which is not quite so fraught with connotation.

Raised in Virginia Beach, where she attended Princess Anne High School with Jerome Ellis, Yasmin comes from a family that, for most for her life, took a casual approach to religion. Her mother is a Lutheran, but was never “deeply spiritual.” It was her father who formed the backbone of her faith. She says she “found his wisdom drew me in to ask more questions about what God’s character was like.”

�en, on her first day of high school, Yasmin’s father died. Her mother now had to manage a family of seven alone and going to church was one of the things that fell by the wayside. It was only during her junior year, when a friend invited her to his church, that she began to take her faith more seriously.

Today Yasmin is helping her mother reconnect with Christ. Some days, her mom will excitedly call Yasmin to talk about a Bible passage that has inspired her. Her mother’s experience, she says, is “just evidence of how powerful God can be.”

At Columbia, she seeks outlets to share that powerful message. She leads a first-year women’s Bible study that looks not only to study scripture, but also to apply it to everyday life. Sometimes she will invite her friends to Inter-Varsity events, reminding them God is open to their prayers. “My faith in God is very important to me and God has definitely touched parts of my life and healed things,” she says. “I think it’s worth offering that to people if they’re wanting to hear it.”

Her group of friends is an even mix of Chris-tians and non-Christians, which she believes is essential to a person of faith: “I don’t think there’s a real value to being Christian if you only surround yourself with Christians.” Sometimes, her peers will dispute points of faith, but their conversa-tions don’t get confrontational. People’s anger, she says, arises from an inability to believe “that a God could be good when the world is so clearly broken.” Yasmin understands that mentality, but remains confident in her faith.

She brings that confidence to the class-room, where she doesn’t hesitate to discuss her beliefs. Her perspective is most valuable when the class has few people of faith, often the case at Columbia. In that environment, Yasmin’s task is to explain loaded terms like “faith” and “grace” to an audience unfamiliar with them. There are often language barriers, she says, be-tween Christians and the outside world, which can lead to misunderstanding and distrust. Learning to break the barriers down buttresses her own faith.

�e divide is not always easy to bridge, but Yas-min—with her charm, and her patient awareness that acceptance takes time—strives to close i

On the balmy Saturday after Easter, Columbia revels in Bacchanal, an an-nual celebration for undergraduates inspired by Bacchus, the Roman god

of wine. And while most Columbians heed Bac-chus’ advice and have nights of drunken revelry, 20 or so dedicated Catholics gather for a Bene-diction service at the Church of Notre Dame. The church is a hidden jewel of Morningside Heights, laden in marble, save for the space behind the altar, where a grotto-like rock wall bears a statue of Mary.

It’s the eve of Divine Mercy Sunday. For more than three hours the congregants sing psalms and ancient Latin verse—no contemporary music here—and worship a consecrated host, what Catholics believe to be the body of Christ. Most of the worshippers sit in the first few rows of pews next to the altar; some of the more steadfast kneel on wooden kneelers.

Lauren Ely, a junior at Barnard, sits on the ground with about seven others, leading the group in song. As she prays, her face is somber, but after the vigil, it softens into a shy smile.

She was raised Catholic, her mother’s reli-gion, although her father is Baptist. Growing up, almost all of her friends were Christian because she went to a Catholic high school, so part of the adjustment to college was meeting people from different backgrounds. She thinks the transi-

tion has been valuable for her because “the real world is that way and you can’t stay in a little Catholic bubble.”

But that doesn’t mean she has abandoned her faith. Next year, she will be president of the Co-lumbia Catholic Undergrads, a group that minis-ters to the Catholic faithful at the University. CCU coordinates Bible studies, weekly prayer groups, and most importantly, Mass for Columbia’s Catholics. With 15 to 20 members attending events (not including Mass), CCU has a more intimate feel than a group like InterVarsity. According to Lauren, the organization’s size gives members a better chance to develop “one-on-one, personal relationships.”

Kinship like this helps students manage the daily grind of college life and the challenges it presents for a student of faith. Lauren remarks that here, there are no hovering parents remind-ing her to go to Mass. �e girls she lives with, most of whom aren’t Catholic, often do not see eye-to-eye with the Catholic Church, and philosophical disagreements do arise. She says, though, that discussions are always civil. And she sees the chal-lenges to her beliefs as a fortifying test of faith.

In responding to questions or criticisms about Catholicism, she strives not to evangelize, but to better understand her own creed. If, she offers by way of example, a friend “has a really strong opin-ion on abortion and says ‘Why does the Church teach this?’ I want to be able, for myself, to give a good answer ... not because I need to defend myself to them, but just for myself to be able to say ‘�is is what I believe.’”

Some call church orthodoxy restrictive, but for Lauren, it’s just the opposite: “From Christ comes this radical freedom, and so the truth is that you’re free.”

Halfway through the vigil some of the worshipers go down into the base-ment of the church for coffee and snacks. One of the parish’s fathers

explains how in the ’80s the diocese of New York chose Notre Dame to minister to Columbia’s Catholics. Other universities house priests on campus, but Columbia doesn’t have the space to accommodate clergymen. It’s only two blocks from the corner of campus to Notre Dame, but the walk feels farther.

Christians at Columbia are often isolated, often misunderstood. Most students don’t realize that Christians here make a conscious choice to follow Christ, that students like Lauren find a remarkable freedom in religion. �eir faith grows in the face of tremendous skepticism, as they rigorously exam-ine it, and explain why they believe what they do.

Faith begins with what Lauren calls an “initial kernel” of inspiration. But beyond that, you just have to believe.

Perhaps Sy says it best: “You can’t really know anything with 100 percent certainty because in order to do that you would have to know every-thing there is to know. You would essentially have to be God himself.” a

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“I WANT TO BE ABLE TO GIVE A GOOD ANSWER, NOT TO DEFEND MYSELF, BUT JUST TO BE ABLE TO SAY, ‘THIS IS WHAT I BELIEVE.’”

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John Jay Dining Hall serves over 13,000 meals a week. But how many diners stop to consider the rights of the animals they’re consum ing?

On a campus with students known for their political activism and penchant for complaining about everything, digs on the food at John Jay are common. Still, Columbians rarely take a critical look at the cafeteria’s animal rights policies. According to a survey conducted by PETA2 (the student version of PETA) , 97 percent of 18- to 22-year-olds believe that animals should not be treated cruelly or made to suff er. So why aren’t more people aware of John Jay’s animal rights track record?

Dining Services Director Vicki Dunn says that the cafeteria bases its selections on what students ask for. It gauges diner preferences and student opinion by reading comment cards, listening to the Dining Advisory Committee , and holding focus groups. Judging by this policy, vegan and vegetar-ian diners will need to become a squeakier wheel before their needs are suffi ciently met.

Activist groups on campus have seen some suc-cess by petitioning for better treatment of animals. Last year, due to the lobbying of Columbia Stu-dents for Animal Protection , Café 212 and Ferris Booth Commons began to sell only cage-free eggs . � e eggs in John Jay are not cage-free, but they are certifi ed humane.

� e criteria eggs must meet to be called cage-free or humane are more vague than student ac-tivists may realize, though. According to the Hu-mane Society , hens laying cage-free eggs are held inside barns or warehouses, but do not generally have access to the outdoors. � ey may engage in many natural behaviors like walking, nesting, and spreading their wings, but beak-cutting and forced molting through starvation are also permit-ted. Similarly, certifi ed humane eggs are laid by hens that are uncaged but may still be kept indoors at all times. � ey can still perform natural behav-iors, and there are also limitations on how many animals may be kept in one space. Beak-cutting is allowed, but forced molting is prohibited.

While increased attention directed at chicken farms has prompted these regulations, it seems that neither label—cage-free or humane—is per-fect. Julian Franklin , a retired Columbia professor who used to teach an animal rights class, suggests that free-range eggs, a third distinction, are best. � e Humane Society reports that “free-range,” as defi ned by the USDA , typically means that hens are not caged and have some degree of outdoor ac-cess. However, there are no requirements for the duration or quality of outdoor access, and beak-cutting and forced molting are permitted.

Free-range eggs also tend to be the most expen-sive. Michael Novielli , chief of administration for Student Auxiliary and Business Services , admits that there was some resistance even when cage-free eggs were fi rst introduced. “� ere were some people who felt like they were fi ne with the eggs the other way, they wanted to pay a little bit less,” he says.

When it comes to fi sh, John Jay Dining Hall follows the Monterey Bay Aquarium’s Seafood Watch , which recommends sustainable seafood purchases. Dunn points out that the dining hall does not serve salmon because the aquarium rec-ommends purchasing only wild-caught salmon, readily available only in Alaska and Washington.

Dunn also says that she has looked into serv-ing grass-fed beef in the dining hall, but the cost is about 50 percent more than regular beef. She adds, “We haven’t had many requests for grass fed beef,” and that, in fact, red meat in general is not popular at the dining hall. “We have a lot of students that stay away from beef,” says Dunn.

Despite its eff orts to remain proactive and open to student feedback, the dining hall could always improve its commitment to animal rights. Profes-sor Franklin recommends that Dining Services also ensure that none of its meat suppliers are using

gestation crates. A gestation crate is a 7-by-2-foot metal enclosure in which one female pig is confi ned during her pregnancy—and, in eff ect, for most of her adult life. Animal welfare advo-cates regard gestation crates as one of the most inhumane farming practices, and they have been banned in California, Arizona, and Florida.

Franklin acknowledges that truly consider-ing animal rights while dining is costly, and that not all students would be willing to pay for more humane products. He suggests that a separate caf-eteria providing a vast array of vegetarian options and animal welfare-conscious products might be an eff ective alternative to John Jay. � is would allow prices at other locations to stay low even as conscientious eaters would have a chance to stay true to their values. Franklin does wonder, how-ever, “if by forming a special unit the prospects in general for the movement are weakened. I can’t tell if you’re hindering the animal rights move-ment if you segregate,” he says.

Eric Risser , president of Columbia Students for Animal Protection, is in favor of the idea. As he says in an e-mail, “A purely vegetarian dining hall would mean a vegetarian chef who would be aware of and understand the nutritional concerns of a young vegetarian and could cater to those needs with meals which truly nourish the body and mind, instead of just feeding it.”

Building a new dining establishment is ob-viously not the only way for campus dining to improve. Progress still can be made even in small ways. After hearing a description of John Jay’s current salad bar, Franklin says, “At the very least, you could demand that they get some decent vegetables.”a

Swipe Ethics

BY JENN MAYERILLUSTRATION BY MEREDITH PERRY

how animal rights factor into every meal plan

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VEGAN AND VEGETARIAN DINERS MUST BE MORE VOCAL IF THEIR NEEDS ARE TO BE MET.

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Barnard lecturer Liza Gennaro and actress Sarah Jessica Parker have something in common. Besides being cultured New Yorkers, they both played important parts in crafting the 1996 Broad-way revival of Once Upon a Mattress, a musical based upon the fairytale �e Princess and the Pea. Sarah Jessica Parker played the lead role while Gennaro choreographed the show. Gennaro says she loves that she is “always challenged” by her teaching, writing, and choreography projects.

Gennaro’s colleagues Mindy Aloff, Lynn Garafola, and Chair Mary Cochran are also distin-guished members of the Barnard dance depart-ment. Like Gennaro, they have all constructed dynamic professions within the dance world that allow them to follow their unique and varied

interests, which include writing, choreographing, curating, editing, and performing.

Liza Gennaro grew up around dance. “Both my parents were dancers,” she says, adding that she took ballet lessons at eight years old and trained at the Ballet �eater School during her high school years, when she attended the Professional Chil-

dren’s School in Manhattan. Gennaro’s specialty is musical theatre dance—she even teaches a course entitled Choreography for the American Musical at Barnard.

Gennaro was a member of the “American Dance Machine, a company devoted to the pres-ervation of musical theater dances” when she graduated high school and continued to work professionally as a dancer and choreographer. “I did things backwards,” Gennaro says, referring to the fact that she received a master’s degree in dance studies from NYU Gallatin after the birth of her daughter. Currently, Gennaro is work-ing on a project with New York �eater Ballet called Dance/Speak, about choreographer Agnes de Mille. Gennaro knows a lot about the dance legend, citing de Mille’s Rodeo as one of the best dance performances she has witnessed. Her other favorites? “Balanchine’s Serenade” and “Mikhail Baryshnikov in anything.”

Mindy Aloff, in her own words, has “been teaching one subject or another at Barnard since

Pirouetting Professors

BY MOLLIE LOBLPHOTO BY LOIS GREENFIELD

four barnard professors open up about dance and academia

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“I THINK I WAS DRAWN TO THE KIND OF PEOPLE THAT THE DANCE WORLD ATTRACTED. PEOPLE WHO VALUED INDIVIDUALITY, TALENT AND HARD WORK OVER MONEY AND THE LIKE.”

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Professor Mary Cochran makes a split decision.

2000.” �e courses she teaches at Barnard span several disciplines: Aloff helms everything from dance criticism and From Page to Stage in the dance department to �e Art of Being Oneself, a first-year seminar in the English department. Officially an adjunct associate professor, Aloff says she would describe herself as a “cultural gen-eralist,” adding that she’s “written and taught literature, film, and art history as well as academic topics in dance and dance criticism.”

As a child, Aloff found dance to be an activity that required her to use her imagination, exercis-ing both her brain and her muscles. She describes parents who encouraged her to attend ballet performances, audition for Broadway shows, and “read dance history.” A graduate of Vas-sar College with a major in English and a double minor in philosophy and art history, Aloff notes that though dance was not a major at her school, she would take classes about four times a week as a member of a dance group. On the weekends, Aloff and her fiancé, then a student at Yale, would take cultural excursions to poetry readings and rock concerts. A lover of poetry, Aloff wrote her own poems in college, many of which would be included in her senior thesis.

When asked about the best dance performance she had ever witnessed, she responds, “�e very best?” She goes on to describe a special vision of her then-five-year-old daughter, who loved her ballet and tap classes even though “she wasn’t right for ballet: her tendons were very tight.” Aloff elaborates, saying, “She looked so beautiful and radiant” on stage, displaying “such a gorgeous port de bras, carriage of the arms, holding them just so overhead as if they were made of glass” and rendering herself “the prima ballerina abssoluta of the universe” in Aloff’s eyes.

Aloff has surely accomplished a lot since her review of the Ballet Russes de Monte Carlo ap-peared in a self-published neighborhood news-paper when she was in elementary school. Her most recent publication is a book called Hippo in a Tutu: Dancing in Disney Animation that charts choreography in animated films. The Eye interviewed Aloff about her new book earlier in the semester.

Given the eloquence of Aloff’s writing, it’s surprising that she can easily describe herself in just three words—“Oh, that’s easy,” she says. “�ey refer to my obsession with literary revi-sion, and they’ll be on my tombstone: ‘Wite-Out, Her Mark.’” Indeed, Aloff is obsessed with literary revision and tight editing: She triple-checks the correct spelling of “Wite” on the company’s Web site after she answers the question.

On the Barnard dance department Web site, Mary Cochran’s biography states that she “has performed and taught on every continent ex-cept Antarctica.” With a performer for a mother, Cochran grew up around dance. She left Juilliard after only two days to dance professionally with Nikolais Dance �eatre and then Paul Taylor Dance Company, where she was a principal dancer. She was 18 years old. “I think I was drawn to the kind of people that the dance world attracted. People who valued individuality, talent, and hard work over money and the like,” Cochran says.

Cochran became the chair of the Barnard dance department after being invited to apply by former

chair Janet Soares—who fellow professor Lynn Ga-rafola says “built the department until it became a major”—and recommended by Liz Bergmann, the current dance director at Harvard. Cochran teaches modern, improvisation, composition, and the senior creative thesis.

Lynn Garafola actually sets the clock in her office ahead by about 15 minutes so that she can keep herself ahead of schedule—a testament to the bustling nature of her career. A Barnard alumna and professor of dance history, along with criticism, research and senior seminars, Garafola teaches such specific courses as Diaghilev’s Ballet Russes and Its World and Western �eatrical Dance from the Renaissance to the 1960s.

A dance student for many years, she “went to graduate school as an audience member” and al-lowed her interest in the arts to flourish. Returning to New York in the 1970s after being away for seven years, Garafola speaks of “having the opportunity of seeing extraordinary dancing of all kinds” when “there were still a lot of student tickets.”

As a comparative literature student in graduate school, Garafola wrote about dance, starting with a piece on Diaghilev’s Ballet Russes. She has since written for many publications, including Dance Magazine, where she currently holds a position as a special advisory to the editor. “I no longer am writing much criticism,” says Garafola. “�at’s one thing I am a little unhappy about, but there’s only so much you can do. �e day only has 24 hours.”

Garafola has also dabbled in curating, an aspect of her job that she beautifully describes as bringing “together so many different realms of knowledge.” This past spring, Garafola curated an exhibition entitled “New York Story: Je-rome Robbins and His World” for the New York Public Library for the Performing Arts. Her next exhibition—“Diaghilev’s Theater of Marvels: The Ballets Russes and Its Aftermath”—opens this summer.

Beyond the impressive professional involve-ment and qualifications of these professors, they each take genuine interest in their students, and are invested in making personal connections with them in the classroom or over coffee. For Aloff, the best part about teaching is hearing the passion with which students discuss literature or dancing. Cochran considers her students colleagues, evoking a feeling of mutual respect and inspiration. She undoubtedly speaks for her fellow faculty members when saying that at Barnard, she values the chance to build relation-ships “that last a lifetime.”

These four women of the Barnard dance department show what it truly means to have a rich life. Ensconced in their work, possessing

remarkable knowledge of subjects from phi-losophy to German studies, and bubbling with enthusiasm to share themselves with their stu-dents, Mindy Aloff, Mary Cochran, Liza Genn-aro, and Lynn Garafola are four distinguished faculty members whom the Barnard dance department is lucky to have. a

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LYNN GARAFOLA ACTUALLY SETS THE CLOCK IN HER OFFICE AHEAD BY ABOUT 15 MINUTES SO THAT SHE CAN KEEP HERSELF AHEAD OF SCHEDULE.

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JUST DANCE

With the current semester’s end all too rapidly approaching, it’s time to think about the future: next semester. While hectically configuring and reconfiguring their schedules, students often fo-cus so much on finding classes to meet require-ments that most of the university’s offerings are forgotten—including gems like those found in the Barnard dance department.

�e department’s courses are open to dance majors and non-majors alike and range from purely studio classes to purely lecture classes, with everything in between.

Students with little or no dance background will find the introductory level I classes in ballet or modern dance to be the perfect way to ease into more advanced technique classes. �ey’re also an ideal way to spend a couple hours each week de-stressing from the ever-present demands of college life.

Both beginners and experienced danc-ers would do well to try out one or more of the region-specific dance courses. Students can click castanets in Gloria Marina’s Flamenco and Classical Spanish Dance, learn classical Indian dance from Uttara Coorlawala, or opt to take an African dance class with Maguette Camara for a workout that’s physically exerting but a lot of fun. For each of these “styles courses,” instruc-tors impart historical information and cultural knowledge in conjunction with teaching specific movements, creating a more substantive P.E. experience than most other options.

More adventurous dancers who are willing to veer off of the track of sequential technique levels might be interested in taking Contact Improvisation with Colleen �omas or Tessa Chandler’s Feldenkrais class. �e former stresses cooperation and encourages innovation in movement, while students in the latter acquire an awareness of their bodies’ internal structures that’s useful for any dance style.

In the realm of lecture courses, it’s hard to beat Dance in New York City. Students attend performances around the city that reinforce the material taught in class and also give students a chance to get out of Morningside Heights. New York is known as the dance capital of the world for a reason, and this course, along with many of the other offerings in the dance department, proves that.

When filing those fall programs, keep the dance department’s courses in mind as op-portunities to get some exercise, expand your cultural horizons, or simply try something new. And as an additional incentive, remember that technique classes do not have final exams.

—Hannah Mackler

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If you think you need a whole new wardrobe for the warmer seasons, think again. �e Eye’s style writers share and show their favorite ways to carry winter clothes into the spring. Remember: creativity is key, and even the smallest changes can transform an outfit into a whole new look.

For more looks, and to see the photos in color, visit �e Eye’s Web site at eye.columbiaspectator.com.

Spot the Differences

COMPILED BY HELEN WERBEPHOTOS BY JOEY SHEMUEL

how to make a stylish transition from winter to spring

“Replace winter booties with gladiator or strappy sandals for summer.” —Dasha Chirkov

“Get use out of your fall jackets in the spring. Pair a blazer you used to dress up jeans with a cute spring dress and sandals. Rolling up the sleeves gives a very girly outfit a bit of a masculine touch.”

—Jessica Schwartz

“Going from winter to spring, swap darker feathered headbands for brightly colored head scarves, and trade weather-proof shoes for heels.”

—Lindsay Weaver

“Roll up your pants just above the ankle, in the style of �om Browne. �is might sounds awkward, but fits the “dorky” aesthetic. Also, switch to a summer shoe in a light color.”

—Elliot Smalling

LIGHTING BY WILL STEEL

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STYLE“Accessories like bags and belts in punchy colors like magenta, electric blue, and yellow can brighten up drab winter clothes. Pair these brights with basics in charcoal and black for a sophisticated look while there’s still a chill in the air.”

—Anna Cooperberg

“Layering is essential for transitioning a winter wardrobe to spring, especially when the weather is unpredictable. Even layering jewelry, such as a jumble of bright bangles, can spice up an outfit to make it spring-ready.”

—Anna Cooperberg

“Stick to winter’s minimalism, but update it by choosing sheer fabrics and adding a statement necklace.”

—Alexandra Owens