Tributes & Reflections: 2024 Retiring Faculty (2024)

In 2008, my wife Kaye Brown and I left our professorial jobs at Duke and came to BU’s Department of Anthropology, where we were charged with the task of developing and anchoring a stable program in biological anthropology that would be distinguished for scholarly breadth, teaching excellence, and exciting research.  BU now has such a program.  I will always be grateful to the Anthropology faculty and to a succession of wise, generous, supportive, and honest administrators in the College of Arts and Sciences for giving me the opportunity to build it.

At Boston University I found my dreamland – with all the complexities that dreams entail.  With generous institutional support, I was given the chance of a lifetime to be the inaugural director of the Women’s Studies Program (presently, WGS).  Blessed with highly accomplished colleagues, we realized the Program’s broader goal of creating a collegial and scholarly atmosphere that has not only made the emerging WGS the hub of activities of Women’s Studies students, but also a much sought-after Program by other departments and colleges for collaborative events.  I am also grateful to have witnessed the intellectual growth of my department, Anthropology, as it diversified and became more inclusive of women and minorities. As I leave BU, I count my blessings to have had the chance to work, live, and thrive in this much desired world-class institution of higher education.

Thanks for this opportunity to think back over the thirty-six years I’ve been at BU. After I received my PhD I spent some years at Harvard’s Graduate School of Education, directing a particularly wild and crazy Dutch-sponsored study of apparently everything, but I kept my focus on Japan and through the kindness of a friend at BU, was suggested for a position in Sociology sponsored by the Japan Foundation. Why that discipline and not Anthropology at the time? I began, already Japan-prone, as an undergraduate in Anthropology because at the time, 1959, Japan was seen (by Harvard) as a developing country, not yet recovered from the War and thus would require the lens of anthropology… I took time off for journalism and an ABD in English literature, but Japan claimed me back in the early 1970s and I re-entered graduate school. By this time the country had achieved its “economic miracle” and so Harvard’s wisdom placed its study in Sociology, then seen as the study of “modern” societies. So I trotted off dutifully to that department from which I got my degree.

I won’t here go into the wondrous machinations of our then Chair of Anthropology who took me “home” to this department. I have dear friends in Sociology, but my work and style are quite evidently “anthropological.”

Of all the things I could say here about my time here, the most prominent in my mind, is our department’s collegiality. These are friend-colleagues, these are my people. This is a department where people burst into my office with ideas or a book to share, or a loaf of challah, or a summons to go to lunch. (The department is good at commensality especially when I bring the ice cream.) Where there are hugs in place of formal greetings. Where indeed a visiting committee could find only one fault: we were too friendly – this must mean a lack of diversity. No, there is no fault: we differ but are very tolerant of each other’s ideas and habits; we value congeniality and care for one another. I am very proud of our supportive care of undergraduate students as well, of our efforts to support graduate students whose lives are sometimes very difficult. I am very impressed by our productivity – the walls of our department offices are jammed with our framed book covers, including mystery novels and including the cover of my fortieth anniversary cookbook: celebrating each other in all pursuits.

Retirement then, for me, is a ritual occasion, and of course we value ritual, but I won’t be moving far in body or mind and intend to keep on, with the hugs, the ice cream and the celebration of intellectual achievements and above all, friendship.

I am overwhelmed by the prospect of reflecting on my 36 years at BU and so shall confine myself to a few vivid memories prompted by photos I’ve been looking through the last few days… A group of people posing for a photo

Description automatically generatedMy research at UPenn concerned a process in automated reasoning called “unification,” which I extended to account for algebraic forms of logic. Many other young researchers in France and Germany were working in this subfield, and my friend Franz Baader (wearing the Tender is the Night T-shirt) and I organized a workshop at the Schloss Dagstuhl, just north of Saarbrucken. The workshop presentations were held in the chapel of the former castle, and at the opening session, since the Reverend Sun Myung Moon and his “Moonies” were then in the news, we welcomed the attendees to the “Unification Church.”

This was the first year of my six-year appointment as a summer research associate at the Centre National de la Recherche Scientifique in Nancy, France. I would spent a month at the center, and then my wife would join me and we would travel in France and Germany for a couple of weeks in August. It was wonderful, but I did not look back when our two boys were born and I preferred to spend summers at home in Cambridge.

Description automatically generatedWhen my friend Jay Samons, during a break in our summer advising sessions, told me about Fish Worship, the blues band he played in with fellow Core professors Jim Jackson and Brian Jorgensen, I told him I had a harmonica in a drawer somewhere, and boldly suggested that maybe I could sit in some time? (Little did I know at the time this would lead to my full-blown obsession with blues harmonica, leading to lessons, trips to harmonica workshops, and a website full of my transcriptions of classic harp tunes.)

We played as an opening act for the plays the Classics department mounted every spring, for talent shows hosted by Al Marscher in the Astronomy dept, for the Core Pumpkin Drop, at the occasional bar—basically for anyone that would invite us. Eventually, Fish Worship grew, with Brian’s son Edmund on piano, Jay’s friend David on drums, and later James Uden joined us on acoustic guitar. We made a couple of CDs that we auctioned off for charity at our gigs, which we recorded in Jay’s attic office in Providence.

I am most grateful for the opportunity that Boston University afforded me to explore, conduct research, and contribute to policy formation in more than a dozen developing countries, notably in Africa, South and Southeast Asia.

This reflection was written with the support of his friends and family based on comments and interviews Michael gave over many years.

I have always been very passionate about progressive ideas, racial discrimination, civil rights, and social justice. No one describes me as shy about these things. I will always have fond memories of many people at BU people like Kevin Lang, Santiago Levy, Glenn Lowry, Larry Kotlikoff, Albert Ma, Robert Lucas, Christophe Chamley, Randy Ellis, Dilip Mookherjee, and James Iffland (Professor of Latin American Studies, 1979 Chair of the Faculty Council) who shared common ground with me and joined me the battles for academic freedom with John Silber. I am proud of my role in helping the department under Larry Kotlikoff transform from a sleepy parochial organization to an intellectual fermentation tank that was somehow also friendly, united in purpose, and without the factions that so often damage other places. With the support of the deans and the university administration, we made transformational hires of a large number of extraordinary junior and senior faculty that resulted in skyrocketing research output and substantial improvement of teaching. BU Economics has been a wonderful place for my passion for education and willingness to go all the way to challenge, nurture, and promote the advancement of those in training, locally and abroad. I’ve been lucky to have been surrounded by wonderful and stimulating colleagues who are also loving human beings throughout my 49 years of service at BU.

Susan Eckstein’s journey as a scholar has been marked by a deep fascination with Latin America, which began at the age of 10 when she visited Mexico with her parents. As Rachel Nolan, Assistant Professor of International History at the Pardee School, noted, “What Susan was really after is, how did the poor experience their lives?” This question has guided Eckstein’s research throughout her career.

In her own words, Eckstein explained, “For me, life begins at age 10 – my interest in Latin America. When I was 10 years old, I went with my parents to Mexico. I was fascinated by the women vendors in the markets with their children who wonderfully stayed with them all day, the beautiful crafts, and the indigenous festivals that opened my life to a different world. It was the poverty in which so many of the people live that also captured my attention. To this date, I have been interested in issues of poverty and inequality in Latin America and in U.S. policy that helps create inequalities.”

Eckstein’s first book, “Poverty of Revolution, the State and the Poor,” was born out of her dissertation research, where she learned “so much about Latin America writing that book, ‘Walking the Streets of the Low Income Neighborhoods of Mexico City,’ and trying to make sense of it, how they live, why they live the way they did, et cetera.”

Her research then expanded to the impact of revolutions, comparing Mexico and Brazil, and later focusing on Cuba. As she explained, “And of course there I learned so much about what really goes on in a communist country, which is of course very different than what you read in the papers, what you read, more importantly, very different than what you read by academics, with their own biases, and largely very anti-communist, and often by people who never went actually to Cuba.”

Throughout her career, Susan Eckstein has consistently challenged conventional wisdom and shed light on the lives of the poor and disenfranchised in Latin America, making significant contributions to the fields of sociology, political economy, and Latin American studies. In recognition of her outstanding contributions to the field of Latin American studies, she was awarded the Kalman Silvert Award for Lifetime Achievement by the Latin American Studies Association in 2023.

“I’ve spent a wonderful 25 years here, both in the International Relations Department, then Pardee School, and in the Political Science Department. I’ve had a phenomenal time and what’s been wonderful is to see the departments, the school, the College of Arts and Sciences, and the university grow and grow and grow into, you know, going from strength to strength, and it’s been fantastic to see that, to be part of it, and I feel quite humble as being part of this wonderful organization, this wonderful academic community.” – Vivien Schmidt.

Colleague Kaija Schilde also reflected on Schmid’ts legacy at BU, acknowledging Schmidt’s extensive publication record, including award-winning books. Notable achievements, such as the Best Book Award and a French Legion of Honor, were highlighted, along with Schmidt’s affiliations with prestigious universities worldwide and her accomplishments as a fine art photographer.

Schilde reflected on Schmidt’s role as a mentor and friend, emphasizing her profound impact on colleagues and the Center for the Study of Europe. She expressed gratitude for Schmidt’s mentorship and outlined aspirations to honor her legacy. Among these aspirations is the establishment of a Vivien Schmidt library, a fitting tribute to her prolific literary contributions, to be housed in the upcoming Pardee School building. Notably, Schilde remarked, “There are certainly enough books authored by her to grace its shelves.”

As Professor Emerita, Vivien Schmidt has been elected to the American Academy of Arts & Sciences as one of the seven new political science members.

Founded in 1780, the American Academy of Arts and Sciences honors excellence and convenes leaders from every field of human endeavor to examine new ideas, address issues of importance to the nation and the world and work together “to cultivate every art and science which may tend to advance the interest, honor, dignity, and happiness of a free, independent, and virtuous people.”

Among the original members were John Adams, Samuel Adams, James Bowdoin, and John Hanco*ck. Although the astronomer Maria Mitchell was elected in 1848, women were not regularly elected until very recently.

As I look back on over four decades of my tenure as a full-time faculty member in Psychological and Brain Sciences at Boston University, I am filled with a profound sense of gratitude, accomplishment, and nostalgia. These years have been a journey of growth, learning, and contribution, both to the academic community and to the lives of countless students who have passed through the halls of our institution. Armed with a passion for understanding the complexities of the human mind and behavior through the lens of animal studies, I embarked on this adventure with enthusiasm and determination.

My journey at Boston University began in 1982, at which time the department was called Psychology. I brought to the department a fresh neuroscience perspective that permeated my teaching and research activities. Over the next several decades, our department grew steadily in the neurosciences to the point where it became clear that a change in the name of our department was needed to accurately reflect who we had become, namely Psychological and Brain Sciences. Throughout the years, Boston University provided a fertile ground for intellectual exploration and academic excellence. I had the privilege of collaborating with multiple esteemed colleagues both within and outside of Boston University. The insights and expertise of these numerous individuals enriched my understanding of the causes and treatments for substance use disorders. Together, we delved into diverse areas of research, from cognitive psychology to neuroscience and neurobiology, and from developmental psychology to clinical applications, always pushing the boundaries of knowledge and innovation. As the years passed, I also witnessed profound shifts in the landscape of academia and the broader society. Technological advancements revolutionized the way we conducted research, opening up new avenues for exploration and discovery. Societal changes brought forth fresh challenges and opportunities, especially in the area of substance use disorders, prompting us to adapt and evolve in our approach to teaching, research, and outreach.

One of the most rewarding aspects of my tenure has been the opportunity to mentor and guide aspiring scholars of diverse backgrounds. Watching undergraduate, graduate and post-doctoral students and trainees grow and flourish under my tutelage has been immensely fulfilling. Whether in the classroom, the laboratory, or during one-on-one interactions, I endeavored to instill in them a passion for inquiry, critical thinking, and ethical practice. Many of these students have gone on to make significant contributions of their own, carrying forward the torch of knowledge and shaping the future of psychological and brain sciences. As I bid farewell to Boston University after 41 years as a full-time faculty member, I am filled with a profound sense of gratitude for the experiences, opportunities, and relationships that have enriched my life. The memories of late nights in the lab, stimulating discussions with colleagues, and the joy of witnessing students’ “aha” moments will stay with me forever.

I retired from the University of Massachusetts (Boston; Medical School) on June 30th 2001 and on July 1st assumed my position as Professor of Anatomy & Neurobiology at BU Medical School, an opportunity which I owe to then Dean Aram Chobainian and Professor Mark Moss, who was Chair of the Department. I spent eight rich and productive years on the medical campus but as the only faculty member focusing on developmental clinical research, I missed having colleagues whose work was more closely aligned with mine. When, in 2009, the opportunity came to move to the Department of Psychology (now PBS) to head up a new program in Developmental Science I grabbed it!

From the start, BU has been a welcoming home, one that has encouraged and supported my multidisciplinary research on autism. I loved the students I have had the good fortune to teach and mentor in my lab. And I have loved my colleagues – not only from my program and department but many others from across the University. Above all, I have most appreciated that BU encouraged me to collaborate across departments and colleges with colleagues to both teach and conduct research. I have learned so much over the past 23 years from so many people; these relationships will remain with me even after I eventually end my career here as Director of the Center for Autism Research Excellence. I cannot imagine a better institution to have made my home – BU is at the heart of everything that I have achieved over the last quarter century for which I will be ever grateful.

After teaching my last class at BU this fall, I stood by the Charles and cried quietly. When I later told the story to a favorite student, she pointed out that I also cried at the end of last term. Maybe this is just a sign of a weepy personality – I cried when I left the Minneapolis potato processing plant, a summer job in 1973 – but leaving BU does not feel like going gentle into that good night.
For one thing, I cannot believe that I get paid for this fun and interesting job, as I learn as much or more from my students and amazing younger colleagues as they learn from me! It is wonderful to observe how scholarship has developed in our field, and I am so grateful for getting to watch the evolution at close range.
My younger son tells me that my students are just nice to me because I grade them, but I still so appreciate their insights and gestures of appreciation, such as when a student wrote that I was the “best boomer ever,” granted a dubious honor, but I know that she meant well. Even the teaching evaluation digs – “she’s not as funny as she thinks she is” – have often been a source of amusem*nt. It has been particularly fun to teach during the past decade, as our students have become more engaged, aware, and passionate about the distressing challenges of our times. To my mind, the Gen-Zs are the new greatest generation.
Universities today are pressed to do so many different things and I worry sometimes that these admittedly important ventures can distract us from our core work product: teaching and research. Hopefully Boston University will continue to place a priority on and invest in its remarkable faculty, and will sustain the vibrant diversity of people, ideas, and talents that is the calling card of this institution.

I joined Boston University in 1986 and, as I retire after 38 years of service, I keep wonderful memories of the colleagues and staff, within the Physics Department and beyond, with whom I worked all these years, of the people in the University Administration who supported my activities as Director of the Center for Computational Science and departmental Chair, of the researchers with whom I collaborated, and of the many students whom I advised and taught. I love to teach: for me teaching is like walking onto a stage. I have many anecdotes from my teaching, but I will tell just one story. One day I was teaching freshman physics to a medium size calss at 2PM. It was a beautiful, sunny day and at some point I noticed that several students, way more than usual, were dozing off. So I interrupted my lecture, which caught the students’ attention, and with a stern voice I said “I noticed that many of you are dozing off” and paused for a moment. After that I continued “… and I fond this so heart-warming, because it is what happens to me when I attend a seminar in the early afternoon and I thought it was because of my age. But look at you, you are not even twenty and are falling asleep. So it has nothing to do with my age.” There was a burst of laughter and everybody stayed awake and attentive for the rest of the class.

I came to BU in 1980 as a new Ph.D. in French from Yale, where Pierre Capretz had developed his notable audio-visual method of language teaching. The excellent BU language lab was up-to-date with the changing field, and I could slip easily into teaching language classes here. We had textbooks and workbooks, good language-lab audio materials, a bit later French-language film videos, and for handouts, mimeograph machines (how many people know what they are?). In class, we would review the grammar at the beginning of class and any readings that were assigned, then a mimeo handout would serve as a conversation exercise for students in groups of two or three. Two other faculty members and I got a grant to go to France to create a video of life on a goat farm in Southern France. It was a wonderful experience and I still have the video.

So much changed over the next decades. Now there are Xerox machines, on-line films, Power-Point presentations, Word programs that correct spelling and grammar in just about any language. Teaching French literature changed as well with these materials and machines. Although we would still read French novels in physical books, more and more materials became available electronically, and I stuck with the book form as long as it wasn’t an financial burden for students. There is something special about holding a book in your hands and turning the physical pages as you advance in the story.

I have had so many varied and amazing colleagues in Modern Foreign Languages and Literatures (MFLL), which split up and became Romance Studies for French, Italian, Portuguese, and Spanish. My favorite story is about the faculty-staff softball league and our combined Math and MFLL team. As you might imagine, we didn’t have a lot of foreign language teachers who had played softball. I became the pitcher, although I had been a field-hockey player in high school – I think the skills I gained from bowling with my family as a teenager may have helped with the underhand pitching. However, we did have one faculty member on our team who had experience playing baseball, and he essentially played from shortstop through third base. Even though we had team members playing those positions, he simply swept up behind them when they missed. We were really good, and made it to the final playoff game against the Building and Grounds team. We lost (in large part because I made a running error) but I will never forget that season and our dual department team.