Reader Responses to Father of the Open Curriculum

I’ve just now come to read the issue of BAM focusing on the 50th anniversary of the New Curriculum. Lockdown has jumbled my reading schedule—I’m reading now for the first time, as well, issues of the Arts section of the New York Times from November, and it’s eerie to know now what was unthinkable then. My life since Brown resembles my life at Brown. I have been an internationally published illustrator for more than 40 years and have written and illustrated numerous children’s books; written or co-written books about visual culture, two with fellow alumnus Bob Sloan; art directed the New York Times Op-Ed page; and directed the illustration program at Parsons School of Design (N.Y.) for seven years,  followed by 12 years as associate professor. I chose Brown because I wanted what the New Curriculum offered: the ability to design one’s own course of study, to explore disciplines that would normally be seen as incompatible, and do all of this without one eye always on my grades. I took courses in psychology, linguistics, creative writing, bibliography, Russian Literature, theater, fine art (with Richard Fleischner), and Italian. I acted in plays and radio theater and curated a show at John Hay Library of illustrated editions of Alice in Wonderland. I also was drawn to Brown’s relationship with RISD, where I studied drawing, graphic design, and bookbinding. 

In the spring of my junior year I took advantage of another of Brown’s innovations: the sanctioned leave of absence, during which I went to Italy, learned the language, and studied letterpress printing. I fell in love with the illustrator’s life and didn’t return, forgoing a university degree. But I didn’t miss out on a university education. The two and a half years I spent at Brown—the students and faculty I learned with and from, the understanding I came to of what education really means—could not, I contend, have been gotten anywhere else, at any other time. I’m glad I’m still on the mailing list for the Brown Alumni Magazine so I can keep up—even if I’m a few months out-of-date.

John Barresi ’63 (What Do You Think?, April/May) surely is right that students after him have been luckier in pursuing interdisciplinary interests. I entered Brown in 1970, the first year of the Open Curriculum, and like Mr. Barresi, found the requirements for those of us in science, engineering, or applied math left few slots for electives. (And I, too, was interviewed by Professor Morgan but not accepted.) But the Open Curriculum did make pursuing interdisciplinary (or multidisciplinary) interests easier. For aspiring Renaissance men and women, the effort continues throughout life because the world is just too interesting and our time on earth too limited.

I add my voice to the chorus of those praising George Morgan for what he taught, how he taught, and what he stood and stands for (“Father of the Open Curriculum,” January/February, 2020). He taught us, or perhaps reminded us, that dialogue starts with listening. He reminded us that doing the right thing necessitates courage and vigilance—particularly in times when leaders fail us. He reminded us that we may not turn our backs, or close our shutters, when we see things that must not be. Thank you, Professor Morgan. You changed my life.

I read with gratitude BAM’s January/February 2020 issue celebrating the 50th anniversary of the University’s Open Curriculum and interdisciplinary approach to education. Professor Emeritus George Morgan’s pioneering pedagogy has certainly improved students’ learning experiences as well as contributed positively to our broader community.

I graduated from Brown in 1999 with a degree in American Civilization- a department dedicated to interdisciplinary study. 21 years later, I am the mother of 2 sons with developmental and neurological differences. My interdisciplinary education at Brown serves me each day as I navigate the unexpected and humbling journey of caring for my 2 sons. It involves the integration of a variety of therapeutic and bio-medical interventions. There are many other children who need interdisciplinary interventions, but unfortunately they are not receiving them. Advocating and providing for them remains essential.

Professor Morgan’s moral imperative for an interdisciplinary education deriving from the tragedies of the Holocaust (as expressed by Cooper-Nelson) remains critical today: one should never be so disciplinary focused (like Nazi doctors) that morality and humanity are sacrificed. Sadly, people with disabilities remain highly vulnerable to practices and treatments that disregard their dignity and humanity. Last December, the Iowa Department of Public Safety began an investigation of a center that treats intellectually and physically disabled people, including children. They are looking into claims that the population was subjected to human experiments related to optimal hydration and sexual arousal. In addition, in Massachusetts, the painful practice of GED electric shock aversive conditioning is legal. In 2018, a Massachusetts court ruled to allow the GED electric shocking to continue at the Judge Rotenberg School in Canton, Massachusetts. Students wear a backpack containing the shocking device, with electrodes constantly attached to their skin. Staff can shock students at any point during the day, as many times as the staff deems appropriate. At present, the FDA is trying to outlaw the GED electric shock devices. However, policies allowing the restraint and seclusion of children with disabilities remain widely accepted and commonplace across America. Providing effective interdisciplinary treatment for these children could ensure their safety and progress far better than these immoral practices.

Unfortunately, these are only a few examples of the inhumane experiences to which differently abled people are vulnerable. Brown alumni must continue to use our valuable interdisciplinary educations to promote humanity and morality. Anna Susman Johnson ’99 MAT ’00, head of the Wolf School (and  one of the school’s first teachers 20 years ago) in East Providence RI, exemplifies a Brown alumna positively employing her Brown education to help children with developmental, neurological and/or learning differences. The Wolf School’s Immersion Model (Copyright) provides innovative interdisciplinary therapeutic special education to help children, like my son, succeed.

For fifty years, Professor Morgan’s influence on Brown’s Open Curriculum and interdisciplinary education has touched many minds and hearts. We can and must continue the legacy.

I entered Brown in 1959, hoping to get a degree in Applied Mathematics. Little did I realize the straight-jacket that I was getting myself into and how it would ruin my life at Brown. The Applied Math program was highly structured, so that the courses we were required to take were heavy on mathematics, hard sciences, and engineering courses. As a result, we had few electives outside of the sciences, and even within, we were limited. I eventually became an academic psychologist, but psychology was not viewed as a hard enough science in applied math at Brown, so I was not allowed to choose it as an elective. I did get to take a few interesting courses in other areas over the years; An intro philosophy course, a course in intellectual history in the U.S., and an eastern religions course, all of which had excellent teachers and opened my mind to these areas. But one big disappointment was that in my fourth year at Brown, I could not get into any of the interdisciplinary university courses then available that attracted me. I was interviewed by Professor Morgan for his class on Modes of Experience, but was not accepted into that highly popular class. It was only after leaving Brown that I could pursue the many interdisciplinary interests that were stimulated there in me, but which I couldn’t pursue there, due to the straight-jacket curriculum that Brown had at that time. Fortunately, later students have been luckier.

Loved reading about Prof. George Morgan in the January/February issue of the Brown Alumni Magazine. I had the privilege of taking two classes with Prof. Morgan and was impressed with how he empowered students in his class and modeled lifelong learning. After covering a few foundational readings for a course, he would assign topics in the syllabus to students. Our task? To research the subject in depth and figure out how to teach it. What readings would we assign? How would we make use of the class time alotted to us? The energy, creativity, and effort our peers put into curating the reading lists and making the most of class time made the coursework engaging and rewarding. Equally inspiring: Running into     Professor Morgan in the reading room at the Rock as he studied the material you or your classmates had assigned. 

Professor Morgan also had rules governing class discussion that I still try to apply in any group meeting: 1) Acknowledging or reacting to the previous speaker’s remarks before switching to a new topic and 2) directing comments to everyone around the table, not just the Professor or person with the most perceived authority. Thank you, Professor Morgan.

Professor Morgan was one of the greatest men in my life, I have included papers from my class in 1978 in my book Sand Stone (which is available on Amazon). As I reread them and this account of his life, I too, feel so blessed that he was there to guide me to who I am today (“Father of the Open Curriculum,” January/February ’20).

Enough already! New Curriculum – Open Curriculum.  It has been around long enough to call it what it is, the Brown Curriculum.