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Follow the Money | AS STUDENT LOAN SCANDAL
SPREADS, DAY HALL PLAYS IT COOL
iN MAY, THE UNIVERSITY OF TEXAS, AUSTIN, FIRED ITS
associate vice president of student financial services. The
move came as no surprise--Lawrence Burt had been on
leave for six weeks since a wide-ranging investigation of student
loan practices by New York State Attorney General Andrew
Cuomo turned up improprieties. As news of the scandal spread,
the Department of Education launched an investigation of forty-four institutions,
and the New York State Legislature passed the
Student Lending Accountability, Transparency, and Enforcement
Act--the first law of its kind in the country. On May 9, the U.S.
House of Representatives passed a similar bill, the Student Loan
Sunshine Act, three Republicans shy of a unanimous vote.
As Cuomo turned up the heat, even schools that appeared to
be above reproach were getting jumpy. At Cornell, associate provost for
admissions and enrollment Doris Davis
prohibited financial aid staff from speaking to Cornell
Alumni Magazine in person or by phone, and the
University's press office responded to inquiries with
a three-sentence statement. "We have reviewed our
own performance in this area and can report that
Cornell University does not receive any favorable
considerations from any institution providing financial
loans to its student body," the e-mail read, in
part. "To ensure transparency and greater efficiency,
the university administration is evaluating initiatives
to streamline the current processes by which the university
and its fourteen colleges and schools interact with financial
lenders." Beyond that, details were tough to pin down. "I
can
assure you that we conducted an internal investigation," vice president
for financial affairs and university controller Joanne DeStefano,
MBA '98, wrote in an e-mail. "In addition, our audit committee
of the Board of Trustees also discussed this at our last
meeting."
Unlike reporters, students--50 percent of whom have University-
administered financial aid--received no such assurance.
"I would like to have heard from Cornell," says Amy Saltzman
'07, an Iowa native who graduated from the Arts college with
about $10,000 in debt. "I understand they're not implicated
in
these investigations, but it would have been nice to receive any
communication." Administrators say they've heard little from
students or parents since the scandal started making headlines;
most inquiries have come from the media and Cornell's senior
staff. Furthermore, they say, because most Cornell students
receive direct federal loans, and only a small percentage pursue
funding from private lenders, there were fewer concerns on the
Hill to start with.
Grayson Fahrner '08, a Syracuse native enrolled in the Ag college,
receives more than $7,000 annually in a private loan from
Key Bank. As soon as Cuomo's investigation hit the media, the
development sociology and applied economics major called the
University's ethics hotline, inquiring into the status of the financial
aid office. In particular, he wondered whether Cornell had
held itself to a higher standard than its peer institutions--including
Columbia, whose financial aid director, David Charlow, was
fired after it came to light that he owned stock in Student Loan
Xpress, a company that had received preferred lender status.
A month later, the junior was still waiting for a response. "I'm
comfortable with the ethical conduct that I see," says Fahrner,
a
student employee in Cornell's office of alumni affairs who ran
this
spring for a spot as a student-elected trustee. "The quality of
leadership
at Cornell with regard to ethics is good, but they've been
really quiet. If there were impropriety it should be publicized
immediately. Even if there was no wrongdoing, that should be
absolutely clear. It's an opportunity to stand out compared with
other schools that have screwed up."
Preferred lender list practices have received the most scrutiny in
the ongoing investigation, due to a variety of lucrative revenuesharing
agreements, expensive golf junkets for university administrators,
and other high-profile ethical improprieties. Until the
end of the 2006–07 school year, Cornell's preferred lender
was Key
Bank, a relationship that grew out of a competitive bidding
process close to a dozen years ago. Administrators say the University
never received shared revenues from the arrangement. "In
November of 2006, we began to hear rumors of rule changes
regarding preferred lenders and legislative proposals regarding
‘sunshine laws,' " director of financial aid Tom Keane
wrote in an
e-mail, referring to laws providing open access to information. "In
an effort to stay ahead of any concerns, as we planned our awarding
practices for 2007–08, we decided to eliminate any [single]
recommended lender." Instead, he wrote, students are directed to
a list of alternative financing sources.
The elimination of preferred lender programs may address
the ethical concerns associated with free travel and questionable
stock holdings, but it also comes with a cost, says Keane. "Not
unlike the telephone or utility deregulations," he wrote, "more
choices mean more research on the part of consumers." Fahrner
says that wouldn't have been an issue for his family--his
parents
have the financial savvy to have assessed his options. Saltzman says
her family would have foundered."My parents haven't taken
out
lots of loans in the past," she says. "They don't deal
with large
amounts of money." Fahrner suggests a competitive service modeled
on online reservation services might be the way to go. "I'm
not sure if there's an Expedia.com for student loans out there," he
says. "That's a business idea, maybe."
Calvin Selth '07, a Los Angeles native who plans to spend the
next two years with Teach for America at a bilingual charter
school in Long Beach, California, racked up almost $50,000 in
debt over the last four years. The outgoing Student Assembly representative
says Cornell provided far more information about
financing options than many of the schools he considered as a
high school senior. But there's still room for improvement, Selth
says, and while the S. A. didn't tackle the topic this past semester,
it will when it reconvenes in the fall. "Cornell needs to strengthen
its position on such a public issue," says Fahrner. "The
campus
discourse is not as loud as it could be."
-- Sharon Tregaskis '95
Second Act | A HALF-CENTURY LATER, MILT
KOGAN '57
FINALLY GETS HIS SHEEPSKIN
fOR MANY COLLEGE STUDENTS,
the second semester of their senior
year is haunted by an unrelenting
question: "What are you going to do
with your life?" But Milton Kogan wasn't
a typical senior. He already knew what he
was doing with his life--in fact, he'd lived
most of it. A family doctor in Beverly Hills
and an accomplished actor (his many TV
appearances include the recurring role of
Officer Kogan on the series "Barney
Miller"), Kogan graduated from Cornell at
the age of seventy-one, two weeks before
his fiftieth class reunion.
Encouraged by his wife, Susan--and
inspired by his daughter's graduation from
the Hotel school in 2006--Kogan returned to the Hill this spring
to complete his
bachelor of science degree, fifty years after
he dropped out for financial reasons.
Kogan left the Ag college in 1957 at his
father's insistence, having been accepted
to osteopathy school after three years of
undergrad. "Initially, it was hard for us to
review his petition," says Pamela Torelli,
advising records coordinator for the college.
With a fifty-year gap in his studies,
the admissions office had to dig his
records out of microfiche files. "We have
had people return after twelve or fifteen
years, but this was the biggest jump I've
ever seen."
After transferring fifteen credits of
German he had taken at a community college in California, Kogan was twelve
credits short of a degree. In January, he
and his wife, as well as their cat and their
chocolate Lab, moved from their Beverly
Hills home to a rental in Cayuga Heights
to complete his senior year. "It's been a
long time since I tried to think like this,"
says Kogan, sitting on the Willard Straight
patio, clad in the classic student uniform
of jeans and a baseball cap. "As a physician,
people treat you with such reverence. Now
I'm like a putzy freshman."
As an interdisciplinary studies major,
Kogan took a wide range of classes, including
two communication courses, an introductory
animal science course, a horticulture
course, and a graduate level education
course in science and democracy. "He actually
took fifteen credits--more than he
needed," says Kogan's adviser, Toni DiTommaso,
an associate professor in crop and
soil sciences. "It does not surprise me; he
made it clear that learning never ends."
In addition to his osteopathy degree,
Kogan holds an MD from the University
of California, Irvine, and a master of public health in epidemiology
from UCLA.
Yet after medical school, Kogan was
unsure he wanted to be a doctor. He
began taking acting classes from Leonard
Nimoy, best known as Mr. Spock on "Star
Trek." "He got me interested in acting as
an art form, an emotional way of touching
myself," says Kogan. "I'd been studying
in white walls. It was so sterile. Acting was
just the opposite. It really hit a chord for
me."Kogan soon made his way into commercials,
television shows ("Sanford and
Son," "Kojak"), and eventually films,
including The Sunshine Boys, The Lady in
Red, and E.T.
But Kogan says that earning so much
money as an actor made him feel guilty,
prompting him to serve three years as a
Peace Corps physician in West Africa.
After returning to the U.S., he joined the
National Health Service, becoming a doctor
in a small Montana town before settling
in Los Angeles. Despite all that life
experience, Kogan still felt competitive
pressure when he returned to the Cornell
classroom."Intellectual study is rigorous,"
he says. "These kids are so bright. I have
all these degrees and sometimes I didn't
know what the twenty-one-year-olds were
saying in class. And they were thinking,
This guy's a doctor--he must know."
Following his graduation and reunion,
Kogan and his wife moved back to L.A. to
await the birth of their second grandchild.
Though he has returned to his medical
practice and Hollywood career, he also
plans to grow grapes and make wine, skills
he learned in horticulture class."Maybe I
was getting too routine," he says of his
L.A. existence. "There are other things to
do in life; that's one of the reasons this has
been so exciting for me."
When Kogan decided to return to
Cornell, the partners in his medical practice
called him crazy. His kids--even
daughter Millay Kogan '06--thought it
was a joke at first. "If there's one thing I
learned here in my sixteen weeks, it's how
rich it is just to listen without having to
critically comment or give your opinion,"
Kogan says. "Processing what other people
think and say is something I haven't
been doing enough of over the last thirty
years."
-- Sherry Stolar '07
Talk Therapy | CORNELL COUNSELING DIRECTOR
GREG EELLS ON THE
VIRGINIA TECH TRAGEDY, AND WHY ANTIDEPRESSANTS
ARE ALMOST AS POPULAR AS ACNE MEDS
CAM: Let's get it on the record.
Is Cornell really the suicide capital
of America?
GE: It's not. The data nationwide says the
suicide rate is about one college student
per 10,000 per year, so about two at a university
of our size--and that's where we've
been.Historically, some suicides at Cornell
have involved the gorges; they've impacted
the community in public ways, which perpetuates
the myth.
CAM: Do you think it's harder to be a
college student today than it was a
generation ago?
GE: It's more complicated. So much
is coming at you, it's hard to step back
and ask, "What is important to me,
what are my values, what really
matters?" And technology has a
way of making us think we can
control what happens to us. If you
don't like the world around you,
put on your iPod; if you're lonely,
talk on your cell phone. That's not
very good conditioning for life.
CAM: Is it true that psychoactive
medications are among the most
prescribed drugs at college clinics?
GE: They're third, behind allergy and acne
medication.
CAM: How many students did Counseling
and Psychological Services (CAPS) see in
2006–07?
GE: We don't have all the data yet, but we
had about 2,700 the previous year and it
will probably go up to 3,000. Ten years
ago it was 1,500.
CAM: So demand has doubled over the
past decade.Why?
GE: Stigma has decreased, so people are more willing to seek care instead
of thinking,
I'm gonna suck it up and deal with it
on my own. And psychiatric treatment
has gotten better, so people are able to
attend Cornell where fifteen or twenty
years ago they may not have--yet they still
need support. Maybe they were able to
excel in a high school that gave them a lot
of structure, and then they come to a
university where the attitude is more
like,"Navigate the system. Good
luck."
CAM: What are students
being treated for these
days?
GE: Most are diagnosed
with some spectrum of
depression. Anxiety is
pretty big, as are eating
disorders and substance
abuse. Attention deficit seems
to be getting more common.
More students have suicidality as a
symptom. Self-injury, like cutting, is
also something we've been seeing more
of in the last ten years.
CAM: Is there a limit to the number of
counseling sessions?
GE: No, we base it on need. If someone
feels, "I'm pretty stable but I need years
of therapy to work through stuff with my
mother," that's not really our model, so
we'll refer to private practitioners in
town.
CAM: What was your reaction when you
heard about the mass murder at Virginia
Tech in April?
GE: My first thought was, thirty people--
how can that happen? And I thought, our
work will never be the same.We'll wonder,
any time someone is crying or angry:
are they going to be the next Seung-Hui
Cho?
CAM: Some people blamed the murders in
part on violent films and video games.
GE: Nobody does what Cho did because
of a movie. However, there's good evidence
that those things can desensitize
somebody. Exposure to violent images is
like getting the flu. You're stressed, your
immune system is weakened, you're
exposed to a bug--if you have enough of
them, you get sick. It's similar with violent
behavior. If there's hazing or bullying,
someone is socially awkward, there's
isolation, disconnection, exposure to violence,
availability of weapons--it all contributes
to what happened.
CAM: So how can you prevent that kind of
tragedy?
GE: The reality is, you can't. You can do
things to reduce the risk, to reach out to
students, but we live in a society that values
individual rights. Until someone acts
out, you can't just lasso them and take
them to a hospital. There are hundreds of
kids on every college campus that counselors
and academic advisers are concerned
about--their behavior is a little
odd, they make other people uncomfortable--
but they're not violent.
CAM: What about the case of the George
Washington student who sued after he
was expelled for admitting he had suicidal
thoughts?
GE: It's the other end of the spectrum. But
if you kick out people because they're
depressed or struggling with mental illness,
you're going to drive them underground.
If you look at the data, 70 percent
of the suicides on college campuses
are people who never sought counseling.
A lot of time people in the most serious
pain are the ones who are never going to
share it.
-- Beth Saulnier
Calling Fouls | AN ECONOMIST TRADES
SHOTS WITH THE NBA
most graduate students hope their work will see the
light of day, perhaps be published in an academic
journal or scholarly book. Many never make it that
far--let alone become the subject of a media frenzy. But that's
what happened to economist Joseph Price, PhD '07, when he
and a colleague did a study that found that racial bias by NBA
referees affects the number of fouls called--and, ultimately,
a game's outcome. "To have LeBron James call you stupid
or Kobe Bryant call you an idiot just aren't things you ever expect
to happen to you," says
Price, recently hired as an assistant professor of economics at Brigham
Young University.
Since Price's co-author--Justin Wolfers, an assistant professor
of economics at
Penn's Wharton School--presented their findings at conferences
last spring, both have
been busy defending the study in the media. After it was featured in
the New York Times
in May, it became a hotly debated topic in athletic and economic circles,
prompting
NBA commissioner David Stern to state in a press conference, "Racism
doesn't exist
in the NBA. This is a bum rap, that's all."
The authors used NBA data from 1991 to 2003 to determine the racial
make-up
of the three-person referee crews; they found that players got about
4 percent more
fouls when all referees are of the opposite race. Some have criticized
their methodology,
claiming that because they did not know which referee made which call,
their
findings are inconclusive; the NBA--which refused to identify the
race of individual
refs--published its own study refuting the bias claims. Price attributes
the vehement
reaction to the league's status as a diverse organization. "We've
always thought of the
NBA as the paragon of racial equality," he says. "It's
a place where a lot of the referees,
coaches, and stars are black. If anywhere, this is an organization where
racism
shouldn't be occurring. For us to say these implicit biases still
exist is upsetting."
Although Price is glad that their findings have been so widely debated,
he wants
the discussion to expand beyond sports. He hopes to conduct more studies
on how
subconscious biases affect decisions in settings like the classroom and
workplace.
"This reaction only proves how important these studies are," he
says, "because we
can't get rid of the 4 percent if we're not willing to acknowledge
it's there."
-- Liz Sheldon '09
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