The price of inspiration

Wildcat File Photo Arizona Daily Wildcat Scott Andrew Shulz

Mr. Rizzo was my first real elementary school teacher. After always teasing me in front of the class, I would run home in tears to my parents to tell them what a horrible man he was. Looking back now, however, I realize that he was only trying to teach me self-confidence. By placing me before my peers, he taught me never to be afraid in public situations or to back down from proclaiming what I believed. That was nearly 10 years ago, but I will always remember those lessons.

Likewise, Ms. Shaddy and Mr. Harrington were high school English teachers who helped me realize that teachers truly care about their students. When Ms. Shaddy was not busy telling me how horrific my writing was, she would meet in and out of class to make sure that life at home was all right and that I knew someone cared even when it seemed the rest of the world had given up on me.

Mr. Harrington did the same, sitting outside his classroom each and every morning with a yardstick in hand, he would openly approach you with inquiring questions about your life. It did not matter that you had completed his English class years before, he never forgot you and you could always count on him to listen.

I would imagine that you can also recall at least one teacher or professor who stands out as having sincerely inspired you in one way or another. There is someone you can thank for teaching more than just addition and subtraction, but for also opening your eyes to the world and giving you the confidence and desire to capture it.

Teachers are quite simply more than just entertainers who are hired to stand before us and preach the words of boring texts. Believe it or not, many professors care about us as individuals and want to see us succeed in life. They set up meetings outside of their normal office hours for the chance to explain what you did wrong on a paper and how you can change it for the better. They give you their phone numbers to call if you ever have a problem, and they stay after class to talk rather than escape to their shrinking office spaces. Most importantly, these teachers strengthen our character through their advice, their wisdom and their willingness to make their lives less private and convenient for the chance at making our lives more rewarding.

But, unfortunately, fewer and fewer of us will have the opportunity to be inspired by teachers who really understand how to do their jobs. The citizens of our community have turned their attention away from education and convinced our state Legislature that money needs to go toward the building of prisons and hiring of more police officers. The belief has been that education can take care of itself; that universities such as our own can find funding through grants and private funds.

This has led to less money budgeted to the UA and even less for the UA faculty. Why is this?

Education has taken a backseat to other aspects of university life. For instance, while the average professor makes $68,000 dollars a year, the UA Athletic Director Jim Livengood will take home $1.45 million in the next five years. Even more extreme is the fact that the coach of the men's basketball team, Lute Olson, has an annual salary of approximately $528,000 a year. Where have our priorities gone?

The effects of these statistics will be made more obvious in the coming years. As the UA offers lower salaries to its qualified faculty, those professors will move to peer institutions, such as the University of Washington or the University of Michigan, and the UA's competitive edge will dull at an incredible pace. Excellence will give way to inferiority and what remains will be the shell of a university, a framework with no substance.

This could be justified however, as long as the UA still has a championship basketball team.

Education in the 1990s will best be remembered as a time when proficient teachers were replaced by tight budgets based upon principles of insatiable greed and ignorance. In turn, the first few years of the 21st century will be described in one of two ways. Teachers might once again be recognized for their incredible abilities as educators and believers in humanity.

Or these years might possibly reflect the mistakes we are making today and be guided by a form of ignorance that is taking shape now, only to be passed down from generation to generation.

Scott Andrew Schulz is a communication junior and can be reached via e-mail at Scott.Andrew.Schulz@wildcat.arizona.edu. His column, Millstone, appears every Wednesday.