When I was 9 years old, my dream job was to be the person who calls off school when it snows. Now that I have that job, it stinks. Over my 10 years of canceling classes because of snow, my decisions have rarely met with universal approval: Without fail, some loud constituency is fast to complain.
This past winter, the Washington area was hit with an extraordinary three blizzards, two of which occurred within a four-day period, and I ended up canceling six days of classes. Upon our return to class, and after much consultation with colleagues, I distributed a plan to make up the lost days, one of which involved taking back a university holiday on the day after Easter. For varied and goofy reasons, this one aspect of the plan produced some negative reactions, most of which fell within my level of tolerance as a provost who's been around the block a few times.
But one reaction, in the form of an e-mail message from an undergraduate, struck me. According to this student, my decision was capricious and insensitive, showing that I just didn't care about students.
The accusation felt like a punch in the stomach. It brought me back almost 40 years to a Monday afternoon in Kent, Ohio, at the height of spring on a breezy, sunny day, when it seemed that nothing in the world could go wrong. Of course, that sense of a pacific spring was illusory because much was going wrong that day. The invasion of Cambodia by U.S. forces had precipitated student protests around the country, including one at Kent State University, where I was a graduate student in the psychology department. On May 4, the Ohio National Guard lobbed tear gas to disperse the crowd. The wind blew the gas in all directions. And then came the gunshots.
I was part of the chaos. With a group of fellow students, I was distributing leaflets that contained the names and addresses of Ohio's Congressional delegation and urged people to write them letters of protest about the Cambodian incursion. Having grown up in suburbia, I was not familiar with the sound of gunshots. But a friend who was with me knew the sound, and he jumped on me, pushing me to the ground. We were in the parking lot just below the hill from where the guardsmen were firing (the famous 67 rounds in a period of 13 seconds). He probably saved my life—those who were hit seemed to be all around me.
The aftermath of the tragedy, in which four students were killed and nine others wounded, is well known. President Nixon initially condemned the students; a federal commission was appointed to investigate the shootings at Kent State and at Jackson State University, in Mississippi, where police killed two more students 10 days later; and nothing much happened. During these 40 intervening years, more students have been killed on several campuses, and we perhaps are not as shocked as we once were. But Kent State became infamous and went through some tough times.
For my part, I finished my Ph.D., got a faculty job in Buffalo, N.Y., and moved on with my life. For years I was reluctant to talk about my experience that day, perhaps as an emotionally defensive reaction. Later, I realized that I didn't want to talk about it because once I started, I couldn't stop myself, and I feared becoming a bore.
But the experience has never been too far below the surface. I did speak at length with James Michener when he was writing his 1971 book, Kent State: What Happened and Why. And in 1974, when I was a visiting scientist in Warsaw, I was summoned to the U.S. Embassy to have a deposition witnessed for, I seem to remember, a grand jury that was meeting in Cleveland, and I was also asked for testimony in civil suits that were brought by the families of the victims against state authorities.
But the impact of the tragedy on me personally was more subjective and longer lasting.
Over these last 40 years, as a faculty member and academic administrator, I find myself getting upset when I observe students getting the runaround or being treated rudely by faculty and staff members. Such episodes occur in daily life, and I've never thought that the institutions in which I work are particularly harsh places. It's just that I can't seem to control myself when I see it, and I have let loose on colleagues when I think they have been out of line with students. I find myself getting very emotional—angry and upset.
For example, 10 years ago, long after I had journeyed to the Dark Side and become a dean, I took a visceral dislike to the person who was then my boss. I know exactly the circumstance that led to my reaction to him. In a conversation, he started bashing students, in this case dismissing graduate assistants as a whiny lot who are never satisfied with the support levels of university resources. That did it for me. He had crossed a line, and our relationship continued downhill. I began looking for another job and shortly after left the institution.
I don't want to give the impression that I'm some sort of stealth guardian of students, coming to the aid of the distressed, protecting any and all. In fact, my current job puts me in the position of appeals officer for just about everyone. I like to think of myself as a fair adjudicator of those appeals. I don't think I get particularly emotional in these situations, maybe because the cases are all carefully laid out in a rational, prescriptive format. Rather, what seems to set me off are dismissive attitudes toward those who entrust their education to us and provide for our livelihood.
I trace my touchiness to the four students who died that May 4th of 1970—with so much in their future. Two of them, Allison Krause and Bill Schroeder, remain vivid in my mind's eye because I had them in class earlier in that academic year. Now that I am a father and a grandfather, privileged to witness the growth of those whom I love, I am ever more poignantly aware of the magnitude and senselessness of the loss. Along with marveling at the growth of my own family members, I've watched my students grow beyond their undergraduate years, and I've seen them move into advanced study and careers, most of them successfully.
Part of me always mourns Allison and Bill when, at the start of each academic year, I see the renewal of our academic community with the exciting contagion of youth. I think about our responsibility as educators: While academe has gone well beyond in loco parentis, we still need to protect students. Each one is precious and comes to us because we are able to help them dream big dreams and achieve them.
The medieval notion of the university still operates. It is intended to be a place buffered from the real world, where evil is present and goodness can be rare. That covenant is implicit. But of course we have seen that covenant broken repeatedly in modern America, no less at Virginia Tech than at Kent State and Jackson State. Although the loss of students who have been killed can never be repaired, we can and should honor them by doing better with the students we have.
I didn't respond to the e-mail message from the irate student who accused me of not caring after I took away a holiday to compensate for a snow day. She couldn't have known that the tragedy at Kent State is always with me. Its anniversary reminds me of how precious young life is and what a privilege and responsibility it is to usher our students into the futures that are theirs to live.
Comments
1. vaneblucas - April 26, 2010 at 10:42 am
Dear Doctor Brennan:
Thank you for your article and your observations regarding the Kent State incident. Your continued distress over the death of the four students at Kent State is understood and appreciated.
On May 4, 1970 I was not at Kent State, or at any other college, for that matter. I guess you could say I was attending the "University of Hard Knocks," during May of 1970. I was a 19 year old, serving my country in the United States Army, in Viet Nam. My feelings about Kent State, at the time, were very simple and very basic. After reading about the incident in The Stars & Stripes newspaper, I wrote a letter to my Commander in Chief, Richard M. Nixon, wherein I stated, "Had the students been in class, where they belonged, they would not have been shot." That truth remains to this day.
There have been tragedies at other colleges over the interim. You mentioned Virginia Tech and Jackson State. I would add the recent shootings in Alabama as well. The differences in these incidents, however, boil down to one obvious fact. Those killed at Kent State had a choice to be where they were when the shootings occurred. Those students in Virginia and Mississippi and the faculty and staff in Alabama did not.
I am not excusing the shootings at Kent State. I am, however, pointing out they occurred in response to a disorderly and less than peaceful protest, while those at the other institutions were simply engaged in what they were in school to do; learn, study, teach and or administer.
I did not know the students at Kent State. You knew at least two of them. You mentioned that we will never know the contributions that they could have made, had they lived. I never knew all 58,000 of my brothers whose names are inscribed on the Viet Nam Memorial, some of whom may have died in the Cambodian campaign. But I knew one of them. His name is found on Panel E 3 Line 25 Position 1. He was my biological brother, Jay. We will never know the contributions Jay could have made either, or the contributions that could have been made by the other 58,000 American servicemen named on that edifice, but what we do know is they gave their lives so that those students at Kent State were able to be where they didn't belong...out of class, violently protesting the actions of our military. The same military that made it possible for them to have the right to protest peacefully. And had they been protesting, peacefully, why would the National Guardsmen felt the need to fire? You were there. I wasn't. You tell me.
I understand academia in the 1970's, just as today, relishes their role of leading the bashing of our military. It is harder today, however, as Americans, realizing the disservice and dishonor they heaped upon the Viet Nam Veterans, have corrected the error or their way, and today, are much more appreciative of our modern day veterans. I still hold out hope that one day, someone in academia might take the time to write a piece for the CHE, from the viewpoint of those who were being protested against that May 4, 1970.
As I am a doctoral student and member of the academe today myself, maybe I will be the one. And maybe, I just did.
Kevin M. Lynch
SGT, USARVN
Jul 1969-Jul 1970
2. lpulay - April 26, 2010 at 11:31 am
Well said SGT. Lynch. Thank you for bringing up a valuable point that is often forgotten about May 4th. I appreciate the reminder of the the men and women that served our country honorably in Vietnam.
Lauren Pulay
3. thirdcamper2 - April 26, 2010 at 12:32 pm
The comment by Kevin Lynch indicates a lack of knowledge about what happened at Kent State, or he would not write that the students should have been in class.
Two of those killed at Kent State, Sandra Scheuer and William Knox Schroeder, were simply passersby, walking to class. Schroeder was a member of the campus ROTC chapter.
The other two killed, Allison Krause and Jeffrey Miller, were exercising First Amendment rights to object to the policies of their government. The main slogan of the antiwar movement was "Bring the Troops Home Now" and veterans always figured prominently at the forefront of antiwar mobilizations.
To protest a war is sometimes to protest on behalf of those fighting it, not against them. Given all that historians now know about U.S. policymaking circles in the Vietnam era, the movement against the war seems entirely vindicated. In any event, Allison Krause and Jeffrey Miller did not deserve to die for trying to save others from dying. Nor did Sandra Scheuer and William Knox Schroeder, simply for being students on a campus on a given day.
4. quinnala - April 26, 2010 at 01:36 pm
From thirdcamper2: "The comment by Kevin Lynch indicates a lack of knowledge about what happened at Kent State, or he would not write that the students should have been in class."
The Sgt. did say that he wasn't there:
"You were there. I wasn't. You tell me."
I expected better care of the written word and statements from a college-focused newsletter, but then again I begin to see how readers will see only what they either want to see or what is retained longer. I realize context is everything, but clearly the Sgt. had his statements overlooked.
5. vaneblucas - April 26, 2010 at 01:48 pm
thirdcamper2:
I freely admit my lack of specific knowledge about the events of that day, 40 years ago. As I wrote, I was otherwise engaged, at the time, defending my country and freedom, 10,000 miles away. That is precisely why I asked Dr. Brennan to tell me what could have caused National Guardsmen to fire on peacefully protesting students, since he was there, he heard the shots and he, unlike you or me, would have first hand knowledge.
If what you said about Ms. Scheuer and Mr. Schroeder is true, I will keep them in my prayers as well, as I pray for the repose of the soul of my brother and the souls of the other 58,000 Americans killed in Viet Nam.
And if you have any information that might illuminate the reasons for the Nation Guardsmen firing that day, I would welcome your response. I have asked my librarian to secure the James Michener book, mentioned in the article, for my education and edification.
If you would like to know how my brother Jay died, you can read, “We Were Soldiers Once, and Young" by LTG Hal Moore and Joe Galloway. Or, if you are not a reader, you can rent the DVD, of the same title. It is one of the few Viet Nam war movies that wasn't written in "Oliver Stone-esque, hate the military, bend the truth" mode.
In closing, I agree with you. Ms. Krause and Mr. Miller did not deserve to die on May 4th, 1970. No one deserves to die, on any day, of any year, simply for being students on a given campus, on a given day. But I stand by my statement, made to President Nixon in 1970. It was true then and it is still true today.
"The truth is incontrovertible. Malice may attack it and ignorance may deride it, but in the end, there it is. " Sir Winston Churchill.
Kevin M. Lynch
6. vaneblucas - April 26, 2010 at 01:59 pm
ipulay and quinnala,
Thank you for your comments. As I indicated in my original post, we are fortunate today, that the American public seperates government policy from the performance of our military.
Imagine, if you can, the feelings I experienced when my only son Kristian, was deployed to Iraq in 2004, as a member of the same military unit to which older my brother was assigned and in which he served and died, in November, 1965. (The 1st Cav)
My son served honorably and returned to us whole, in mind, body and spirit. He graduated from college, early, in December 2009. And if I am successful in my prodding, I will see him continue on in his schooling, pursuing a doctoral education.
Kevin M. Lynch
7. thirdcamper2 - April 26, 2010 at 01:59 pm
A fair enough response. My father was in the military in the Vietnam era and I have read many shelves of books on Vietnam, so I understand the war quite well. Have you read the relatively new book Patriots put together from oral histories by Christian Appy? I've read no other single book that is better in capturing all of the many-sidedness of the experience of the Vietnam War. As for Kent State, I am dubious about the Michener but would recommend Philip Caputo's book on Kent State (he was, as you may know, a Marine in Vietnam and wrote an exceptional memoir about the experience) and I. F. Stone's classic *The Killings at Kent State*. Read them all and draw your own judgment, I would say, but don't read the Michener alone.
8. vaneblucas - April 26, 2010 at 03:30 pm
thirdcamper2:
If your dad is still with you, tell him "Welcome Home" from me. (He will understand.) And also, thank him, from me, for his service.
I will certainly get my hands on the I. F. Stone book as well. Like you, and as you can imagine, I have read almost everything noteworthy written about Viet Nam. I have read the Caputo book, on his time of service, but not on the Kent State incident. I will get my hands on that book as well.
In addition to being a Viet Nam Vet myself, my father (our father, including my older brother and younger brother, both of who are deceased,) retired from the military after 30+ years, as the CSM of US Army Special Forces. He was essentially, the "head green beret," for enlisted personnel anyway. That being the case, my insights on the war were perhaps a bit more detailed and much more extensive than most 19-20 year olds of my time. Those insights have given me a different perspective on the Viet Nam War and continue to do so today, as I watch the wars in Iraq and Afganistan unfold.
It is perhaps an irony that my father retired on the same day Nixon left office in disgrace, because he only voted in one presidential election in his lifetime. 1976. I asked him why he had never voted before and he responded that he didn't think he should vote for the commander in chief. He saw it as his duty and responsibility to support whoever held that office. He "wrote in" the candidate of his choice in 1976...and it was not Carter...or Ford.
Dad passed away in 1980...only 53 years old. He served in WWII, Korea and Viet Nam. His name is not on the Viet Nam Memorial, but his death was the direct result of having served in Southeast Asia, including multiple tours in Viet Nam. Like the students you and Dr. Brennan will remember on May 4th, I will remember my dad, who died on May 1st...10 years later...because of the same war. And this year, I will add four additional people to my prayers.
Kevin M. Lynch
9. thirdcamper2 - April 26, 2010 at 03:58 pm
I would like to see the names of the Kent State students added to the memorial wall in Washington. It won't happen, but I think they too gave their lives for their country.
10. vaneblucas - April 26, 2010 at 04:45 pm
thirdcamper2,
Here we will have to disagree. The Vietnam Memorial is not a suitable place for commemorating the lives of the student from Kent State.
While their lives may have been lost in an incident tangentially related to the war in Viet Nam, The Viet Nam Memorial is reserved for those who gave the last full measure of service to their country, in that war.
Only someone who has never served would even contemplate denegrating this memorial with the names of anti-war protestors.
If you or others feel strongly enough about the contribution of these students to the anti-war movement, may I suggest you gather the funds necessary to build your own memorial for anti-war protestors, and include theor names thereupon. But then again, someone once said, "There are no statues for critics."
Kevin M. Lynch
11. 11221748 - April 26, 2010 at 06:50 pm
I wonder how many of those who died in Vietnam "serving their country" were drafted?
12. thirdcamper2 - April 26, 2010 at 07:58 pm
Mr. Lynch, you do not own the war or how it is remembered.
A memory here for the Jackson State dead too.
And for the one million Southeast Asian dead (if not two million or more).
13. thirdcamper2 - April 26, 2010 at 08:23 pm
And one more thing: We all serve, each in our own way. We serve humankind, we serve family, we serve friends, we serve students, we serve our country.
The idea that the sole definition of service is the kind captured by military service is an arrogant conceit. It should be reexamined.
Those who died at Kent State helped to bring the war to an end, and that was an immense service, given the nature of that particular war.
14. englprof - April 27, 2010 at 08:19 am
As a student at Kent State on May 4, 1970, who was in class when the shootings occurred, I have been haunted since that day by the fact that young men in the National Guard were on campus with loaded guns, and martial law had not been declared. As has been pointed out, 2 of the 4 students shot were just going to their next class, as were many of my friends.
15. libartsdean - April 27, 2010 at 09:44 am
How poignant to see Jeffrey Miller's face again. I was a TA in a history course he took at Michigan State in the spring of 1969. We chatted after class one day and I asked him about his year at school and what lay ahead for him. He wasn't happy at MSU and told me he was transferring to Kent State the next year. In May, 1970, I was in Paris doing PhD research when I read about the shocking shootings in the International Herald Tribune. I guessed then that Kent State's Jeffrey Miller was the same bright, sensitive young man I knew at MSU. Now I know he was and am still shocked and saddened by the loss.
John Contreni
Professor of History
Purdue University
West Lafayette, IN
16. fizmath - April 27, 2010 at 10:15 am
Even if the students were unruly, why couldn't tear gas and water cannons be used that day instead of bullets?
17. 22155974 - April 27, 2010 at 12:40 pm
Kent State was a day where our nation lost something very precious, our innocent belief in free speech.
For unidentifiable, gas-masked soldiers to fire bullets (steel, not rubber)on students who were yelling and handing our leaflets, and then to still not have the truth as to who issued the orders to shoot and why, after 40 years, speaks volumes to how vulnerable our freedoms are, and how a government system can close up like a shell when asked those kinds of questions.
Now ask yourself: is America a prouder, better bastion of freedom since that day? Are we filled with the same kind of hope and opportunity as were we then? Has our government made our lives safer, happier, and more productive?
Think (honestly) of your frame of mind on those questions before and after the shootings.
18. johnwager - April 27, 2010 at 12:41 pm
As a Vietnam veteran, my reaction to the killings at Kent State was very different from the one expressed in some of these comments. In May of 1970, we knew we would soon be ordered into Cambodia, and I was not at all sure about the legality or morality of invading a neutral country. It was the deaths at Kent State that helped give me the courage to refuse to participate in the invasion of Cambodia. A few years back I went to a memorial service on the campus and personally thanked those who had been there for their peaceful protest, and for reminding me that the price of doing the right thing is often unexpectedly high. But our actions can affect others half a world away, in ways that we would never predict or even find out about. Thank you, Mr. Brennan, for a life that shows how a horrible event like this can shape lives many miles, and many years, away.
19. nacrandell - April 27, 2010 at 12:51 pm
Questioning, especially on a college campus, should not result in death.
Kent State occurred because of rigid acceptance of national policies and the subjection of individual thought.
If you repeat the same behaviors and expect different results is that insanity or a continued lack of communication and understanding of the problem?
20. johntoradze - April 27, 2010 at 02:21 pm
Sgt. Lynch,
There was a series of events over three days, and many students were unaware of the whole series. Like the fog of war, "things happened" and communications were not good.
It started with a night time brawl on a friday night downtown composed of drunks, bikers and others, how many students was unclear. They broke windows, threw bottles at cops, etcetera. It reached a crisis point Saturday (next day) with the arson of the ROTC building that was scheduled for demolition. The arsonists were unknown. During that fire, a group of students (size unclear, but not large) threw rocks and bottles at firefighters and police.
Some students went downtown on Saturday to help clean up the mess and were forced back onto campus by guardsmen and police. National guard troops bayoneted students and arrested them on Saturday night after staging a peaceful sit-in protest asking to talk to the mayor. In a better world, that sit-in would have resulted in some kind of discussion instead of bayonets.
The rally planned for the next day had a couple thousand students. A few of them threw rocks when told to disperse and threw tear gas cans back into the guardsmen. Guardsmen advanced with fixed bayonets and drove the students a back. The Guardsmen walked themselves into a cul-de-sac, and then retraced their steps. After retreating, they turned and fired. The students they fired on were far away, not the ones closest to them, nor the small group advancing on them from the side.
The guardsmen killed four students, 3 women and one man. Two were clearly students going to class, Sandra Scheuer was an honors student killed at 130 yards. William Schroeder was in ROTC, 127 yards away and shot in the back. A third, Alison Krause, shot at 120 yards, was an honors student, and her participation or not is unclear.
Only one of those killed had clearly participated in the protests, William Miller, shot at 82 yards. Of the four, he threw a tear gas canister back at the national guard troops some time before. One of the guardsmen was reported to have "drawn a bead" on Miller, who was shot through the mouth.
I remember reading an interview with the leader of the Black Panthers on campus about that event. The antiwar protest leaders had approached the Panthers on Saturday to get them to participate. But the Panther leader remarked something to the effect of, "We saw the guard, their guns and bayonets. N-'s know the man ain't playing around. So we stayed away."
The result of those shootings by the guard on students was to create martyrs who crystallized the anti-war movement. It was a turning point that led to the success of the anti-war movement turning the national feeling against the war.
21. johntoradze - April 27, 2010 at 07:01 pm
Did I write 3 women and one man? I did. Mea culpa. Two of each.
22. maa0162 - May 01, 2010 at 10:15 pm
The comments on both of these Kent articles in the CHE are a fascinating read. I appreciate all of them because they are very different than the usual stuff seen here.
My questions are, and I ask only because I know someone out there knows:
How many American boys in Viet Nam were killed that day?
How many Americans were killed during an armed robbery that day?
How many Americans were killed by a drunk driver that day?
How many American police officers were killed in the line of duty that day?
How many Americans have the unfortunate memory of death that day?
Is the importance placed on the memory of Kent appropriate to its larger context?
23. owlwise12 - May 04, 2010 at 09:37 am
I've never felt that that the war in Vietnam was to protect my freedom. My freedom was never threatened by the Vietnamese people. The war was illegal & immoral, accomplishing nothing but death & destruction ... for what? What would we have "won" if America had won that war? What would have constituted winning, for that matter? Nixon seriously considered using nuclear weapons; thankfully it never came to that horror. God knows it was horrific enough.
Why can't we just admit that? There comes a time when patriotism & honor & service are simply a gloss for something terrible & menaningless, because we've somehow got to justify the complete waste of so many lives. I salute those who fought to stop that monstrous evil, which devoured millions of Vietnamese & a generation of young Americans who should have lived long & full lives, rather than fighting & dying for something so useless. If only we had learned from it!