Prof. Sebastiaan Faber

At Oberlin we make stuff, things that last. This place is a factory of ideas, knowledge, art, and music. As it turns out, our annual output is actually quite impressive—and we are committed to sharing it freely with the world.

I've just had one of the most thrilling weekends of my life. And no, it's not because Ajax, my Amsterdam soccer team, won the Dutch league on Sunday (although that was pretty cool). I got to hand a $100,000 Human Rights Award to the Spanish Judge Baltasar Garzón.

The end of the academic year always brings a sense of loss, a kind of annual attack of empty-nest anxiety. We think about the graduating seniors and heave a sigh. "What are we going to do?" we ask each other. "We'll never get a bunch of kids as good as these ones..."

I've never liked the term "discipline" as a way to refer to what I teach and write about. It's harsh, forbidding, army-like. I much prefer to tell people that I work in a particular field --maybe because as a kid I wanted to be a farmer.

What exactly should every Oberlin graduate know and be able to do by the time they walk up to the commencement stage? How do we know that she knows? And how do we make sure that her coursework allows her to actually learn it?

Winter Term still has the delightful feel of space and possibility that I am sure it was designed to have by the brilliant, counter-cultural minds that came up with it some time in the 1970s.

Much of the cutting-edge knowledge about the world is out of reach for most of the people who inhabit that world. But access to knowledge is a good in and of itself.

Why do so many Oberlin students double or triple major? I really want to know.

My colleagues and I looked at each other in astonishment. No, we mumbled almost apologetically, we're sorry, but that is not a problem we tend to have.

I've always thought that leaving the country is one of the best ways to spend January.

January is supposed to be a quiet month, but as usual I've got too many things going at the same time.