Forty students from 10 Capital
Region high schools will become pollution investigators in the fictional town
of Willow Creek on Friday, April 2, from 9
to 11:30 a.m. in the F.W.
Olin Center
and Science and Engineering complex at Union
College.
Teams of students will analyze
samples and do some detective work to determine the type and source of
pollution that has affected the town's water supply. The exercise is part of Union's
second annual Irving Langmuir Chemistry Laboratory Competition, an event
designed to expose students in Regents-level chemistry courses to the
excitement of doing chemistry.
Participating schools are Ballston
Spa, Colonie, Guilderland, Hoosic Valley,
Mechanicville, Mohanasen, Saratoga Springs,
Schenectady, Shaker and Stillwater.
The students will use their
laboratory skills to solve the make-believe case, using real samples they test
to determine which business or industry in Willow Creek is the culprit. The
students will use Union's laboratories and a variety of
chemistry analytical techniques. They will be assisted by Union
College chemistry students.
The Irving Langmuir Chemistry
Laboratory Competition was organized by Union's
chemistry department with support from Albany Molecular Research Inc., GE
Global Research Center, and Schenectady International Inc.
This year's program was developed
by Joanne Kehlbeck, assistant professor of
chemistry, and a number of local and retired high school science teachers.
“The Langmuir competition is
designed as a fun way to get the high school students to make creative use of
some of the things they have been learning in their Regents chemistry courses,”
said Kehlbeck. “At the same time, this is a great way to introduce them to the
fun of doing chemistry.”
Irving Langmuir, a GE research
chemist who taught at Union, was the first industrial
chemist to win the Nobel Prize. His discoveries included the gas-filled
incandescent light bulb, atomic hydrogen welding and cloud seeding. Langmuir
was the inspiration for Dr. Felix Hoenikker, the central character in Kurt
Vonnegut's Cat's Cradle, in which the
scientist developed “Ice-Nine” that turned water into a solid.
China's most famous rock musician,
Cui Jian (pronounced “tsway jen”), will kick off a North American
tour with a free concert at Union College's Memorial Chapel on Friday, April 9,
at 8 p.m.
The concert by the man called
“the Bruce Springsteen of China”
is open to the public. Sponsored by Union's East Asian
Studies program, the concert is made possible with support from the Freeman
Foundation.
The pioneer of rock music in China,
Cui has sold more than 10 million records. He became a pop culture icon during and
after the Tiananmen Square incident in 1989 and starred
in the subculture classic Beijing Bastards (1993). His two most recent
albums, Balls Under the Red Flag and The Power of the Powerless, received
governmental criticism at home and critical acclaim outside of China.
Cui has worked for years under a
de facto performance ban in China,
his gigs limited to a few bars in Beijing.
His work explores the Chinese national character, a subject of chronic
sensitivity for the Chinese authorities. Cui has toured in Asia,
Europe, and North America.
Receiving wider government approval more recently, he was scheduled to open for
the Rolling Stones during their 2003 China
tour, cancelled because of concerns about SARS.
Cui Jian was to have performed at Union
last spring, but the concert was postponed because the musician and his band
members could not get visas from the U.S. State Department in time for the
show.
Cui and his band last month
completed a tour of Europe.
After opening at Union,
their one-month North American tour will include stops in Toronto,
Philadelphia, New York
City, Boston, Vancouver,
Seattle and Los
Angeles.
An op-ed piece by Kelly Herrington '96, associate dean of
admissions, appeared in The Washington Post on Sunday, March 28. Titled “I Laugh, I Cry,
I'd Love to Admit Them All,” the piece is based on Herrington's reading of
about 1,000 college applications a year for the past six years.
They tell me their greatest
accomplishments. They discuss their life goals. They say who inspires them.
They address their weaknesses. They make me laugh. They cause me to shed a few
tears. And they consistently evoke my admiration.
I am not their parent. I am not
their teacher. I am not their coach, sibling, grandparent, best friend or
religious leader. I am a college admissions officer, and “they” are
my applicants.
I know that for thousands of them
the mystery of selective admissions provokes immense anxiety. But they should
rest assured that their files are being read by admissions counselors who are
both humbled and exhilarated by what they find inside. Every winter, when I sit
for hours at a stretch at the small desk in my apartment reading the
applications, I find myself entering a world of hope, hard work, resiliency,
accomplishment and promise.
I learn about students like Sarah,
whose college counselor describes her as a combination of “Jane Goodall, Mother Theresa, Diane Sawyer and Jodie
Foster.” I'm intrigued by essays from students like Matt, who begins,
“The person I admire most in life is a convicted felon.” (The felon
turns out to be an international human rights advocate, and Matt's ultimate
goal is to become a human rights lawyer.) I review college interview reports
that describe students like Dave explaining how their classroom experiences
have been “transformed” by teachers who “dress up as Einstein to
make physics cool.” I smile when students like John send articles about
contests they have won. “The six hundred crazed students crammed into the
gym were incredibly loud,” John explains. “The training was endless,
but the war would be decided in an instant. I vied for the crowd's undivided
attention and nothing would stand in my way. In two short minutes I stood up
and proclaimed victory. I won East High
School's Pie Eating Contest.”
“Reading
season,” as that time of year is called, allows those of us in college
admissions access not only to outstanding students, but also to altruistic,
artistic, athletic, ambitious and downright zany young men and women. We spend
our days with students, teachers, communities and families at their best.
If only it would last. But reading
season culminates inevitably in “decision time.” The delight I have
just found in students and educators quickly evaporates. Parents force their
children to make last-minute visits to campuses before deposit deadlines.
Principals proudly tout the numbers of their students who were admitted to
select institutions, thereby devaluing the rest. Admissions deans rave to their
trustees about the increased SAT averages in the admitted applicant pool, yet
gloss over the creativity, leadership and commitments to community service
unmeasured by standardized test scores. Journalists run articles about the
stress related to making “one of life's most important decisions.”
It is at this time of year, in the
dreaded month of April, that I long to return to the cocoon of my apartment.
And I want to invite the world to join me there. I would like the panicked
parents, the sensationalizing reporters, the worried students and the
SAT-obsessed admissions deans to sit down and read the applications of the
students I have spent several months admiring.
Oh, I know that in the competitive
college marketplace, where the supply of talented applicants far exceeds
openings, the students I must reject will often include some of my favorites.
But I would like others who have a stake in the process to understand that,
whatever the outcome, the work ethic, kindness and, yes, creative craziness
these students have already shown will continue in college and for the rest of
their lives.
Keep that in mind this spring and,
if you know a few college-bound seniors, please congratulate them not on where
they are headed in the fall, but on what they have accomplished so far and will
undoubtedly achieve in the future.
Union admitted 47 percent of about 4,100 applicants (the second-largest pool ever) for the Class of 2008. The average SAT score was 1,300 (640 verbal, 660 math). About half of the admitted students applied for aid; the college pledges to meet all of their need for four years. More than a third of accepted students are from New York. Others are from 37 states, Washington, D.C., and 27 foreign countries.
