{"id":1434,"date":"2003-04-20T10:13:01","date_gmt":"2003-04-20T10:13:01","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/blogs.uakron.edu\/nojh\/?p=1434"},"modified":"2014-01-07T11:50:26","modified_gmt":"2014-01-07T11:50:26","slug":"academic-regalia-at-oberlin","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/blogs.uakron.edu\/nojh\/2003\/04\/20\/academic-regalia-at-oberlin\/","title":{"rendered":"Academic Regalia at Oberlin: the Establishment and Dissolution of a Tradition"},"content":{"rendered":"

By: S.E. Plank,\u00a0Oberlin College[1. I am grateful to my colleagues Robert Haslun, Secretary of Oberlin College, and Roland M. Baumann, College Archivist, for their kind assistance and encouragement. I dedicate this essay to the memory of Geoffrey Blodgett, Danforth Professor of History Emeritus at Oberlin and devoted chronicler of Oberlin history.]<\/em><\/h3>\n

[I]f any season is worthy of symbolical expression and emphasis, it is the Commencement\u00a0season, the initiation of new members into the international fraternity of educated men. . . .Viewed in this light all the formalism of college life assumes significance; it becomes an awe-full\u00a0thing to wear a cap and gown.<\/em>
\nThe Oberlin Review<\/em> (June 21, 1906)<\/p>\n

Styles of clothing carry feelings and trusts, investments, faiths and formalized fears. Styles exert\u00a0a social force, they enroll us in armies–moral armies, political armies, gendered armies, social\u00a0armies.<\/em>
\nJohn Harvey, Men in Black<\/em> (1995)<\/p>\n

Introduction<\/h4>\n

With the adoption of the Intercollegiate Code in 1895, American universities and\u00a0colleges embraced a uniformity of design in academic costume that has held sway until the\u00a0relatively recent proliferation of university-specific gowns.[2. For a summary of the Intercollegiate Code, see Hugh Smith,\u00a0Academic Dress and Insignia of the World<\/i>\u00a0(Cape Town, 1970), II, 1527-75. Smith observes that “by far the most interesting feature . . . of United States academic costume in the period from 1960 to date (1970), has been the deliberate attempt of certain of the best-known and most influential Universities to break away from the uniformity of the Intercollegiate Code. The result of this has been the creation of distinctive academic costume for some or all of the Graduates of at least the following Universities: California, Chicago, Columbia, Cornell, Fairleigh-Dickinson, Fordham, New York, Pennsylvania, Princeton, Tufts, Union Theological Seminary and Yale.” To Smith’s now outdated list may be added Adelphi, Arizona State, Boston College, Brown, DePaul, Illinois, Johns Hopkins, Loyola, Michigan, MIT, New Mexico, Rochester, Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute, Rutgers, Stanford, Temple, Washington, and Wayne State Universitites. A significant number retain the basic design of the Intercollegiate Code, though they alter the color scheme of the gown to create a robe of distinction.] Accordingly, studies of American\u00a0academic costume may find questions of usage a richer inquiry than questions of design and\u00a0development, questions of social history more compelling than a study of regalia as\u00a0autonomous objects unto themselves. A particularly interesting example is the usage and social\u00a0history of regalia at Oberlin College (Ohio), a usage established around the beginning of the\u00a0twentieth century as the college experienced a burgeoning interest in \u201ccollegiateness,\u201d and a\u00a0usage dramatically altered in the late twentieth century with the politicizing of the campus and\u00a0its ceremonial events.<\/p>\n

Oberlin College was founded in 1833 in the Western Reserve area of northeastern Ohio\u00a0as part of a new settlement about 20 kilometers south of Lake Erie. The founding fathers of the\u00a0community, Philo P. Stewart and John J. Shipherd, envisioned<\/p>\n

a colony of elect Christian families, bound together by a solemn covenant which\u00a0pledged them to plainest living and highest thinking. . . . A school also was to be\u00a0founded, combining various grades or departments, for the careful education of their\u00a0own children and those of their neighbors; moreover, to train teachers and other\u00a0Christian toilers for the boundless and most desolate fields in the [frontier] West. In\u00a0this seminary-to-be a hearty welcome should be accorded to women, and manual\u00a0labor should play a most important part.<\/em>[3. Delavan L. Leonard,\u00a0The Story of Oberlin<\/i>\u00a0(Boston, 1898), 21. Regarding the early history of the College, see also the standard work, Robert Samuel Fletcher’s\u00a0A History of Oberlin College<\/i>\u00a0from its\u00a0Foundation through the Civil War<\/i>\u00a0(Oberlin, 1943).]<\/p>\n

Explicit in the description is the evangelical focus of the early community, the austerity of its life\u00a0style, and its social liberality (the education of women). This liberal bent in matters of social\u00a0conscience was quickly and profoundly evident in the hiring of the college\u2019s first faculty, as\u00a0well; a number of them, including the famous evangelist, Charles Grandison Finney, radically\u00a0refused to accept positions unless the school was open to people \u201cof color\u201d as well.[4. Leonard, p. 141. In 1835 a resolution was adopted to the effect that “education of people of color is a matter of great interest, and should be encouraged by this institution.” (p. 144) Geoffrey Blodgett pointedly notes that this decision was “as daring and radical for its day as any modern counterpoint-possibly more so.” “Myth and Reality in Oberlin History,”\u00a0Oberlin Alumni Magazine<\/i>\u00a068, no. 3 (May\/June, 1972): 9.] Thus\u00a0Oberlin became the first four-year, degree granting American college to accept both men and\u00a0women and to teach African-Americans. This liberal social conscience has characterized the\u00a0college throughout its history. The modern college has moved far away from the evangelical\u00a0Christianity of its founders, although their idealism persists in high academic achievement and\u00a0activism.[5. As recently as 1999, College promotional materials asserted that “more of our graduates have earned PhDs in science and engineering than have graduates of any other four-year institution.”\u00a0Oberlin<\/i>\u00a098, no. 2 (1999): 8.]<\/p>\n

The evolution of the college ethos has a number of visual manifestations. For example,\u00a0the chronological parade of presidential portraits in the main college library underscores a path\u00a0that has seen the formal replaced by the informal, the traditional by the new, and the collective\u00a0by the individual.[6. The “parade of portraits” begins with paintings of four men in formal poses, the first two in street attire, the next two in the black suit and white tie of formal evening dress. Only with the fifth President, John Henry Barrows (1899-1902) does academic regalia appear-Barrows impressively wears formal evening attire with doctoral gown and red hood. The next three portraits, covering 1902-1960, remain formal, and their subjects are attired in gown and hood.\u00a0 The portrait of the ninth President, Robert K. Carr (1960-1970) breaks the pattern with a casual outdoor scene and street clothes. Most casual-strikingly so in context-is the portrait of the tenth President, Robert Fuller (1970-73). Fuller appears in jacket and sweater with an open-collar shirt against a loud purple-blue background, etched with nervous streaks of black. Subsequent presidents have opted for informal poses and street attire, though none have embraced the pop-imagery inherent in Fuller’s portrait.] The history of academic regalia at Oberlin charts a similar course. In this\u00a0history, two time periods are of particular interest: the period between 1881 and 1907 when\u00a0traditional academic costume becomes established amid notable signs of general\u00a0\u201ccollegiateness,\u201d and the period between 1970 and the present day, during which time academic\u00a0dress has been rejected by some, embraced by others, customized, individualized and\u00a0politicized.<\/p>\n

We consider these periods in turn.<\/p>\n

The Establishment of the Cap and Gown: 1881-1907<\/h4>\n

The establishment of the cap and gown at Oberlin takes place at a time when the\u00a0trappings of collegiateness in general were on the rise. For example, the college \u201cyell\u201d–a\u00a0distinctive cheer for sporting events–was adopted in the late 1880s. A note in the student\u00a0newspaper, The Oberlin Review<\/em> confirms the date and eloquently bemoans a poor rendition of the cheer:<\/p>\n

Oberlin has had a yell for three years and has not yet learned how to give it. As<\/em>
\nrendered at the ball game Saturday, it sounded like a hymn tune in long meter, sung\u00a0at a funeral to an accompaniment of dropping clods and clattering coffin lids.<\/em>[7. The Oberlin Review<\/em> (hence\u00a0OR<\/em>), May 28, 1891.]<\/p>\n

Additionally, the Student Handbook for 1893-94 specifies colors for the College, the\u00a0Conservatory of Music, and each respective graduating class. Confirming the degree of interest\u00a0in such things, the handbook also includes a lengthy table of principal universities and colleges\u00a0with their distinctive yells and colors.[8. Oberlin College Archives 0\/00\/10, box 1. Handbook for Students 1893-94. The College colors were (and remain) crimson (or some form of red) and gold. The Conservatory here adopts green and pink, the latter an interesting anticipation of the Intercollegiate Code color for the discipline of music. The class colors are, to modern eyes, unusual: ’94 royal purple and heliotrope; ’95 puce and cream; ’96 mimosa and pactole; ’97 mousse and Absynthe.]<\/p>\n

In 1890, the college pin came into existence as a sign of \u201ccollege distinction.\u201d An\u00a0editorial in the Review<\/em> urged its development:<\/p>\n

Why not have an Oberlin pin or button? The last three years have seen the adoption\u00a0of college colors and of our unrivalled yell. The next step in the line of college\u00a0distinction should be a pin with appropriate device or a button in the college colors.\u00a0In several weeks the students will scatter widely for the Christmas holidays. It\u00a0would be pleasant to carry around with them some badge or emblem of the college\u00a0they represent, so that a discriminating public may distinguish them from \u201c the fast\u00a0set\u201d at Harvard: or from the glittering youth of the agricultural colleges.<\/em>[9. OR,\u00a0<\/em>Dec. 9, 1890.]<\/p>\n

The quickness with which the idea took shape was stunning. The very next week the Review<\/em>\u00a0printed a full-page advertisement for the pin:<\/p>\n

The CRIMSON and GOLD!<\/em>
\nWE HAVE A COLLEGE PIN!<\/em>
\n\u201cA Long felt Want\u201d Supplied.<\/em>
\nButtons for Gentlemen<\/em>
\nFor Ladies, Pins.<\/em>
\nNeat, Tasty, Elegant<\/em>[10. OR,\u00a0<\/i>Dec. 16, 1890. The editorial page in this issue also was enthusiastic about the “immediate fruit” of last week’s suggestion.]<\/p>\n

In the same academic year, a similar impulse led to the creation of emblems for the several\u00a0literary societies on campus. Interestingly, however, at this juncture the issue of expense and\u00a0the overtones of extravagance surface, as an editorial in the Oberlin Review<\/em> confirms.[11. OR<\/em>, March 10, 1891.] Given\u00a0this rising interest in \u201ccollege distinctions,\u201d it is not surprising that the issue of cap and gown\u00a0also arises at this time. Certainly it was an issue on other campuses, a development of which\u00a0Oberlin students were well aware. For example, one editorial in the Review<\/em> notes \u201cJust now a\u00a0great deal of interest is attached to the subject of cap and gown, in all the larger colleges.\u00a0Seniors at Yale will wear them during the entire spring term, and in most of the eastern colleges they will add to the dignity of the graduating class during commencement.\u201d[12. OR<\/em>, February 16, 1892.] And a few weeks\u00a0later the column \u201cCollege World,\u201d a regular feature of the newspaper that compiled news items\u00a0from other schools, noted that the mortar-board had been adopted by students at Rochester\u00a0(with different classes distinguished by the color of the tassel), and that at Dartmouth, seniors\u00a0would wear the cap and gown at commencement, although around a third of the class were\u00a0against it.[13. OR<\/em>, March 1, 1892.] Earlier, in 1881 when Oberlin students first adopted the mortar-board, the Review<\/em>\u00a0placed the innovation in the context of other colleges: \u201cOberlin is the last College on the long\u00a0list that has adopted the \u201cmortar-board\u201d and at the beginning of next term that venerable\u00a0covering of scholarly youth, will be seen for the first time in our College precin[c]ts.\u201d[14. OR<\/em>, December 24, 1881.]<\/p>\n

The adoption of cap and gown in the early years of its usage at Oberlin took various\u00a0forms. It appears that initially things moved from the top downwards, beginning with the cap.\u00a0Students adopted the mortar-board as their student hat in 1881, with individual classes\u00a0distinguished by the color of the tassel.[15. Ibid.<\/em>] By the following year use of the mortar-board was\u00a0waning because of the advent of warm weather, though at the time some thought that this was\u00a0only temporary: \u201cwhen the cool days of another year come, we hope to see all the old oxfords\u00a0in full array, together with a goodly number of reinforcements, designating by some\u00a0appropriate color in the tassel, the members of [the class of] \u201886.\u201d[16. OR,\u00a0<\/i>April 22, 1882. It is ironic that in December of 1904 the Review would have occasion to note that “the seniors have abandoned the wearing of caps and gowns every Friday until warmer weather.” (emphasis added) OR,\u00a0<\/em>Dec. 8, 1904.] Apparently the interest did\u00a0lag, however, because in 1890 the student newspaper announced that the sophomore class had\u00a0chosen the mortar-board as their class hat: \u201cthe mortar-boards have been brought out from\u00a0their hiding places at last, as everybody knew they would be.\u201d[17. OR<\/em>, March 25, 1890.] The adoption of cap and gown\u00a0together was later in coming, with student interest running in advance of faculty sentiment. For\u00a0example, regardless of student opinion, the faculty rejected cap and gown for students at\u00a0commencement in 1892, and apparently did so hastily and without discussion.[18. OR,\u00a0<\/em>March 8, 1892.] However, by\u00a01896, the garb had been adopted by the senior class as their \u201cbadge of seniorhood.\u201d In 1898 the\u00a0Review noted:<\/p>\n

This year finds the seniors again in the dignified garb of cap and gown. [The class\u00a0of] Ninety-nine is now the third successive class to adopt this badge of seniorhood,\u00a0and it is accordingly felt that by the graduating classes to follow, this distinction will\u00a0be adopted without hesitation.<\/em>[19. OR,\u00a0<\/em>November 24, 1898.]<\/p>\n

And from this time forward there seems to have been a variety of occasions on which cap and\u00a0gown were worn by the senior class. Certain days of the week were so graced: sometimes\u00a0Fridays, sometimes Wednesdays before noon.[20. Cf. Fn 16 above. See also OR<\/em>, November 16, 1910, Forum.] Important social occasions were also marked\u00a0with the distinctive dress. For example, in 1901 seniors wore cap and gown to attend a Class\u00a0Day breakfast at a Professor\u2019s home: The local press reported:<\/p>\n

The senior class began their class day exercises by a breakfast in Professor King\u2019s\u00a0yard on East College Street. About seventy members were present, clad in cap and\u00a0gown, and greatly enjoyed the novelty of their last breakfast together as a class.<\/em>[21. The Tribune<\/em>, June 21, 1901.]<\/p>\n

Several years later, the college paper offered a description of the \u201cimpressive spectacle\u201d of the\u00a0Senior Prom:<\/p>\n

Seldom has Warner Gymnasium beheld a prettier or more impressive spectacle than\u00a0it did at the Senior Prom, on last Saturday evening, as Miss Chase led the long line of\u00a0Seniors clad in their distinctions–caps and gowns–while Miss Bullock led the\u00a0Juniors. After the Grand March the Seniors retired to the booths (fourteen in\u00a0number) which had been apportioned them, and there awaited their partners.<\/em>[22. OR<\/em>, April 25, 1907.]<\/p>\n

In the early 1900s, pictures of students in cap and gown appear in the college yearbook, Hi-O-Hi<\/em>:\u00a0for example, senior class pictures in 1905 and 1907; individual senior pictures in 1908; the\u00a0Glee Club in 1900.<\/p>\n

Modern American practice has found the academic procession the chief occasion for\u00a0academic regalia, and such processions are important parts of commencement, baccalaureate,\u00a0and inaugural ceremonies. At Oberlin, students wore caps and gowns at the spring\u00a0inauguration of College President Henry Churchill King, and this perhaps marks the first time\u00a0they participated in an academic procession so attired.[23. Donald Love,\u00a0Henry Churchill King<\/i>\u00a0(New Haven, 1956), 109-111. See also Robert Haslun, “Commencement and Tradition at Oberlin,”\u00a0Oberlin Alumni Magazine<\/i>, 69, no. 4 (July-August, 1973): 12-14.] A cartoon in the 1898 yearbook,[24. Hi-O-Hi\u00a0<\/em>(1898), p. 20.] however, shows begowned seniors, one of whom clutches a newly-received diploma. This\u00a0raises the question of whether the image is merely familiarly iconic or whether it represents an\u00a0(albeit satiric) representation of local practice. If the latter, we might speculate the student use\u00a0of regalia in processions prior to 1903. Faculty did not wear cap and gown in procession until\u00a01907.[25. OR,\u00a0<\/em>June 20, 1907, inter alia.]<\/p>\n

The establishment of this usage was controversial in some quarters, and the years under\u00a0consideration brought a number of views into play. In considering the issue of regalia from the\u00a0standpoint of contemporary reception, one finds that the discussions touch on the\u00a0impressiveness of color and spectacle, individualism, economy, gender, and with particular\u00a0weight, the relationship of the internal values to external display.<\/p>\n

Given the prominence of coeducation at Oberlin, it should not be a surprise gender\u00a0issues quickly arose. In 1881 with the introduction of the mortar-board for students, the faculty\u00a0was reputedly concerned with the propriety of a hat that would be worn by both men and\u00a0women. The Review<\/em> records:<\/p>\n

It is rumored that the Faculty propose to interfere to prevent the classical ladies from\u00a0wearing the mortar-board uniform of their respective classes, on the ground that the\u00a0caps would not be suitable as a head covering for both ladies and gentlemen. . . . For\u00a0our part we cannot see the slightest objection to the wearing of the caps by the ladies.\u00a0We do not believe that it would occasion any uncomfortable remark or scandal, or\u00a0that in any circles it would be regarded as unladylike. . . . [W]e believe that after a\u00a0week or two our most conservative matrons would regard them as \u201cjust the thing.\u201d\u00a0We trust that we have been misinformed about this matter and that the faculty never\u00a0entertained any notion of interfering with these concerns which belong exclusively\u00a0to the judgment and good taste of students.<\/em>[26. OR<\/em>, December 24, 1881.]<\/p>\n

The underscoring of this as a student matter, not one for the faculty, is echoed some years later\u00a0in the student resentment of faculty action against cap and gown for students in 1892:<\/p>\n

[W]hatever our opinion regarding the cap and gown, we question very seriously\u00a0whether the regulation of the commencement garb worn by the Senior class falls\u00a0within the sphere of faculty supervision at all; but, be that as it may, the question\u00a0was worthy [of] some careful consideration out of respect for the opinion which\u00a0many of the class had made known in regard to the matter.<\/em>[27. OR<\/em>, March 8, 1892.]<\/p>\n

Just a few weeks earlier, an editorial note introduced the economic issue. After quickly noting\u00a0the virtues of cap and gown–\u201cadded interest to commencement season,\u201d class ties and variety\u00a0in college life–the writer concludes: \u201cThe real question is a practical one, whether it involves\u00a0unnecessary expense on the class as a whole, and on this basis it should be decided.\u201d[28. OR<\/em>, February 16, 1892.] In 1898\u00a0the question of economy proved no question at all to one writer in the college newspaper, who\u00a0seems unusually strategic in observing that economy of dress will better position the \u201caustere\u00a0senior\u201d to give more generously to the college:<\/p>\n

As the seniors of the future, following the precedent of the last three classes, adopt,\u00a0year by year, this distinction [of cap and gown], it will be found the least expensive\u00a0badge imaginable. And for this reason it will not be long before the graduating class,\u00a0in addition to wearing the cap and gown, will also feel able and willing to leave\u00a0behind it lasting monuments in the shape of useful gifts to the college…<\/em>[29. OR<\/em>, November 24, 1898.]<\/p>\n

Were cap and gown a threat to a healthy individualism? Though occasionally raised as\u00a0an issue, this seems to have been a concern with little weight. Most interesting, however, is\u00a0how the cause of individualism itself becomes a point of support for the trappings of\u00a0ceremonial; that is, if any individual derives meaning and profit from them, their significance\u00a0ought to be assured. In 1906, an impassioned defense of \u201cForms and Ceremonies\u201d appeared in\u00a0the Review<\/em>. Its author writes not only of individualism, but also enumerates a number of\u00a0common criticisms that undoubtedly had attached to regalia and the ceremonial life at the\u00a0college. It is an extraordinary document, as memorable in its phrasing as in its point of view,\u00a0and it bears extensive quotation:<\/p>\n

There has been no small number of rather scornful and supercilious objections to the\u00a0series of ceremonies which constitutes our Commencement week. . . .\u00a0They say that to those who are not blest with Catholic tastes(?)[sic], formalism is\u00a0barbaric and physical; that Virginia reel maneuvers are silly; that many of the\u00a0ceremonies are not properly symbolic, that is, that they possess no resemblance to or\u00a0connection with the matters which they are to typify; that phylacteries and\u00a0vestments[30. NB, just a few years earlier, choir vestments were introduced at Second (Congregational) Church (Easter Sunday, 1903), along with a processional and a recessional. These innovations were controversial. Reporting a few years later (1905) in the\u00a0Oberlin Alumni Magazine<\/i>, S. Eleanor Barrows observed, however, that “it is now universally agreed . . . that not only was unity, simplicity and beauty secured by the vestments but that the music actually sounds better!” (p. 37). A picture with the article shows a large choir in cassock and surplice preparing to enter the church.] are un-Protestant, un-Puritan, un-Saxon and therefore un-Oberlin in\u00a0spirit; that they have been long since forsaken at the fountainheads where they\u00a0originated, or are, at least , maintained only with careless tolerance; that ceremony\u00a0was but devised at first to set a gloss on faint and hollow deeds. . . .<\/em><\/p>\n

Rituals serve a double purpose. They express the sentiments and emotions of the\u00a0earnest and the sentimental. And they serve to impress a realization of the\u00a0significance of the time upon those who would otherwise not feel it. And if any\u00a0season is worthy of symbolical expression and emphasis, it is the Commencement\u00a0season, the initiation of new members into the international fraternity of educated\u00a0men; the \u201cnow get busy,\u201d after the issuing of work-instructions; the \u201cBon Voyage\u201d of\u00a0youth to manhood; the substance, also of things hoped for, the culmination of effort.\u00a0Viewed in this light all the formalism of college life assumes significance; it becomes\u00a0an awe-full thing to wear a cap and gown.<\/em><\/p>\n

The extent to which this pang of awe is inspired, however, varies with\u00a0temperaments. The fitness of ceremonies, like beauty, resides \u201cin the eye of the\u00a0beholder.\u201d It is simply a matter of taste; and the finest and greatest men have held\u00a0each view concerning it. If ceremonies have any significance to any person they are\u00a0justified. And it is certain that when ceremonies have no significance they fall of\u00a0themselves into innocuous desuetude. As long as anyone can be found to defend a\u00a0ceremony that very fact proves that it does possess significance and value.<\/em><\/p>\n

Therefore, just so long as there are students who desire caps and gowns and\u00a0processions, or who feel that a class ought by rights to present a comedy as the main\u00a0feature of the conclusion of its college course, just so long will these things be\u00a0impregnably justifiable as valuable and good.<\/em>[31. OR<\/em>, June 21, 1906.]<\/p>\n

The language of sectarian strife here, and the pitting of a Protestant, Puritan, Saxon Oberlin\u00a0sensibility against a Catholically inclined ceremonial one is perhaps born of the fervent views of\u00a0the founders, and suggests the close permeability of religious and academic concerns at the\u00a0college. That the newspaper piece is so strong a defense of individual sensibility in these\u00a0matters shows the degree, however, to which tolerance might be nurtured.<\/p>\n

Discussion of the hollowness of external, material things and the greater riches of\u00a0internal pursuits are sometimes intertwined with the consideration of regalia. An explicit\u00a0connection is made in a student editorial in 1882, the year following the adoption of the mortarboard.\u00a0Earlier we noted that the advent of warm weather had caused a waning interest in the\u00a0cap. In the passage below, we see that to some, however, the cap was a \u201cpursuit of the externals\u201d at the risk of losing \u201cthe inside meaning of life.\u201d[32. Cf. the modern view voiced by John Harvey in his provocative\u00a0Men in Black<\/i>(Chicago, 1995): “Our outer dress does inner work for us, and if clothes ‘mean,’ it is in the first place to ourselves, telling us we are or may be something we have meant to be.” (p. 14).] The anti-Catholic rhetoric seems\u00a0to anticipate the passage quoted above.<\/p>\n

The remarks which were made by the President [James H. Fairchild] at the opening\u00a0of the term, and which have been re-enforced since that time, in reference to useless\u00a0expenditures of various kinds, we think deserve more careful consideration than\u00a0they seem to have received. We have experimented with the mortar-board, and all\u00a0will agree that it has been a failure. It is fast becoming a rarity on our streets, and the\u00a0time is not far distant when the sight of one will create as great a sensation as it did\u00a0last January. Now that the novelty of this antique head-dress is worn off, we have\u00a0wearied of it, as children of their toys, and we are now, some of us, anxiously\u00a0looking for some new plaything with which to while away the next year at college.\u00a0There are persons who find it difficult to believe that they are college students\u00a0without some mark in clothing or general appearances to assure them of the fact. It\u00a0is an evil generation that seeketh after a sign. <\/em>There are persons who in their eager\u00a0pursuit of the externals lose sight of the real kernel and the inside meaning of life. [emphasis\u00a0added] We believe that they actually confuse the real objects of training, and regard\u00a0class caps, class socials and class canes as the essential mark of a college life, while\u00a0mental discipline is merely one of the \u201caccidents.\u201d These individuals extend to\u00a0mortar-boards and silk hats a share of that superstitious veneration with which\u00a0devout but illiterate catholics bow down to the image of the Virgin Mary. But let us\u00a0strive to remember that the essence of education no more consists in class insignia,\u00a0than religion does in the worship of images. We may feel assured that these things\u00a0add no more to our dignity than they bring credit to our good sense.<\/em>[33. OR<\/em>, October 21, 1882.]<\/p>\n

We may bring this issue into tighter focus by considering events in the administration of\u00a0Henry Churchill King (1902-27). King was inaugurated as president in May, 1903. On this\u00a0occasion, students participated in the academic procession in cap and gown, perhaps for the\u00a0first time. The faculty considered whether they should adopt regalia for the occasion, as well.\u00a0The disagreement was drawn on age lines, and although a majority were for the adoption, the\u00a0strength of the older faculty\u2019s opposition led to the motion\u2019s defeat. King\u2019s view was clear:\u00a0\u201cWe must remember the significance of the ceremony; we must keep it from degenerating into\u00a0mere show.\u201d[34. Love, p. 109.] Four years later, at the baccalaureate of 1907, the faculty appeared in cap, gown,\u00a0and hood for the first time. The Commencement Daily<\/em> was enthusiastic: \u201cThe brightly trimmed\u00a0gowns of the professors contrasted vividly with the green of the campus grass and trees, the\u00a0spectacle being one of the most brilliant ever seen at an Oberlin commencement.\u201d[35. OR<\/em>, June 20, 1907.] The Review<\/em>\u00a0noted that the faculty regalia was a \u201cdistinct and very real addition to the impressiveness of the\u00a0ceremony.\u201d And of considerable interest is that this editorial note also pointed out that \u201cthe\u00a0essence of ceremony might be said to consist in exciting inner sentiment by outer appeals.\u201d[36. OR<\/em>, June 20, 1907.] Amid an enthusiastic reception for the innovation, however, were a number of subtle and not so subtle reminders to keep the mind focused on the inner and immaterial, despite the material,\u00a0external display. King\u2019s sermon at the baccalaureate was entitled \u201cThe God of Hope,\u201d based on\u00a0St. Matthew 6:10. From the pulpit he declared that \u201cReligion, is therefore, first of all, no matter\u00a0of ceremonial. . . . No external<\/em> observance of any kind. A holy God of character can find\u00a0satisfaction in nothing short of inner<\/em> obedience.\u201d[37. Emphasis added. The sermon is reproduced in the\u00a0Oberlin Alumni Magazine<\/i>, 3, no. 10 (1907). See p. 370. Significantly, the commencement speaker, William Allen White, spoke of the “great problem of spiritualizing . . . material things.” SeeThe Oberlin Tribune\u00a0<\/i>(June 21, 1907).] Given the rhetoric of the passages quoted\u00a0above and the innovative ceremonial \u201cmaterial\u201d of the 1907 commencement–the novel external\u00a0trappings–one may assume King\u2019s remarks took on timely, local significance.<\/p>\n

Surely the most stunning reaction to the innovation took the form of altering the Biblical\u00a0text read at baccalaureate. The program specifies that Matthew 6: 5-15, 25-34 was read by\u00a0Professor Albert H. Currier.[38. Oberlin College Archives 0\/00\/14 box 3 Commencement Files 1902-1908. Currier was Professor of Sacred Rhetoric and Pastoral Theology.] The opening of the passage with its admonition to pray in secret,\u00a0not to make a display, seems also to invite associative meanings on the occasion of a newly\u00a0bedecked commencement. Apparently the subsequent reference to the scriptural glory of\u00a0Solomon\u2019s raiment was problematical, however. The Cleveland Plain Dealer<\/em> featured an article\u00a0with the grabbing headline: \u201cAlter Bible to suit costume\/Those in Charge of Oberlin Services\u00a0Change Text of Scriptures\/Wearing of Black Gowns by Pedagogues is the Cause.\u201d The account\u00a0continues:<\/p>\n

Biblical sentences had to be changed today at the services in connection with the\u00a0delivering of the baccalaureate sermon by President King, because the faculty of\u00a0Oberlin College wore black gowns.<\/em><\/p>\n

It was the first appearance of the pedagogical body in somber robes. Fearing<\/em>
\ninconsistency, those in charge of the services carefully abridged the Scriptures, so\u00a0that when the sixth chapter of Matthew was read the auditors scarcely recognized it.\u00a0All reference to Solomon in his glittering robes was left out and every phrase, clause\u00a0and sentence containing any allusion to brilliant raiment was blue pencilled.<\/em>[39. Cleveland Plain Dealer<\/em>, June 17, 1907.]<\/p>\n

It is not clear at this remove exactly what the specific alterations were, though one must imagine\u00a0that only gravest concerns might have prompted a community so foundationally devout to\u00a0engage in any alteration at all. The reporter for the Cleveland paper suggests that \u20acit was a fear\u00a0of inconsistency–the somber black robes and the splendor of Solomon–that prompted the\u00a0change. However, given the Commencement Daily\u2019s<\/em> description of \u201cbrightly trimmed gowns\u201d\u00a0and the brilliance of the scene–the professors were hooded, and thus colorful–it seems more\u00a0likely that the alteration was to remove the temptation to see one\u2019s new sartorial splendor in a\u00a0Biblically sanctioned light.<\/p>\n

Thus, like many American universities and colleges, Oberlin adopted the cap and gown\u00a0along with other manifestations of collegiateness in the late nineteenth and early twentieth\u00a0centuries. At Oberlin, in part due to the prevailing religious sensibility, the adoption of regalia\u00a0takes place in a context much concerned with the relative importance of inner values and\u00a0external, material things. However, the adoption of regalia for faculty and students alike at the\u00a0Academic Procession endured until 1970.<\/p>\n

The Tradition Dissolved: 1970 to the Present Day<\/h4>\n

The familiar notion of the late 1960s and early 1970s as a time of youthful rebellion and\u00a0iconoclastic rejection of mainstream cultural forms and values finds a vivid (and ultimately\u00a0long-lasting) expression at Oberlin in the dissolution of the student use of cap and gown. This\u00a0takes place at a time in which the college commencement–arguably its most public exercise–also becomes an arena for explicit political expression. Both of these aspects endure to the\u00a0present day. It is perhaps no surprise that dress should take on political overtones. John\u00a0Harvey has observed that \u201cstyles of clothing carry feelings and trusts, investments, faiths and\u00a0formalized fears. Styles exert a social force, they enroll us in armies–moral armies, political\u00a0armies, gendered armies, social armies.\u201d[40. Harvey, p. 19.] And in 1970, American campuses across the country\u00a0were galvanized into just such \u201carmies,\u201d waging \u201cwars\u201d of moral, political, and social protest\u00a0and critique.<\/p>\n

In the spring of 1970, colleges and universities were thrown into turmoil, disruption,\u00a0and disorder as faculty and student bodies alike vehemently protested President Richard M.\u00a0Nixon\u2019s decision to send American troops into Cambodia as part of the war against North\u00a0Vietnam. At the campus of Oberlin\u2019s nearby neighbor, Kent State University, the protest took\u00a0on an unimaginable tragic tone with the death of four students killed by National Guard troops,\u00a0ordered to Kent to restore and maintain order. The death of the students triggered massive\u00a0campus response. At some schools, including Oberlin, administrators ended the spring\u00a0semester early, as part of a strike.[41. Indicative of the gulf between the Nixon administration and the university communities is the following report from\u00a0Time<\/i>: “Even as it widened the war in Southeast Asia, the Nixon Administration chose to further estrange itself from the nation’s campuses. Vice President Spiro T. Agnew, speaking to Republicans in Fort Lauderdale, Fla., unleashed another blunderbuss attack on colleges as ‘circus tents or psychiatric centers for overprivileged, under-disciplined, irresponsible children of the well-to-do blas\u00e9 permissivists’.” (May 11, 1970), 19.]\u00a0Time<\/em> reported in its May 11 issue that<\/p>\n

On campus the Cambodian foray brought new eruptions. At comparatively\u00a0quiescent Princeton, nearly 2,000 students immediately called a \u201cprovisional\u201d strike.\u00a0At New Haven, which was broadly advertised in advance as a new Chicago,\u00a0demonstration organizers cooled the crowds almost as rebuttal of Nixon\u2019s charge of\u00a0anarchy.<\/em>[42. Time\u00a0<\/em>(May 11, 1970), 10.]<\/p>\n

And in its next weekly issue, it brought Oberlin national attention:<\/p>\n

At dozens of campuses, university presidents supported student demands for an end\u00a0to the Cambodian venture and a withdrawal from Indochina. Oberlin College\u00a0President Robert Carr simply canceled final exams, gave all his students credits for\u00a0their courses and turned over the campus to antiwar planning<\/em>.[43. Time<\/i>\u00a0(May 18, 1970), 8. OR reported that the political circumstance made “emergency measures” necessary. The adopted plan stated that “students are to receive the grade in class as of May fourth or the corresponding credit\/no entry. Students and faculty will also be authorized to make any other educational arrangements that are mutually acceptable.” The canceling of classes was not unique to Oberlin. Boston, Ohio State, Brown, Yale, Princeton, and Harvard also closed. The move was not unanimously popular among students.\u00a0US News and World Report<\/i>\u00a0(June 15, 1970), 36 reported: “In a letter published in “The New York Times,” five students took the Harvard faculty to task for its vote on May 6 to allow students not to complete their academic year but get credit for their courses anyway. This action, the students said, constituted ‘a complete abandonment of academic standards by a university faculty previously considered among the world’s greatest.'”]<\/p>\n

Oberlin thus ended its semester two weeks early. During that time students and faculty\u00a0coordinated participation in protest rallies in Columbus and Washington, DC, and drawing on\u00a0Oberlin\u2019s musical prominence, performed Mozart\u2019s Requiem<\/em> in the National Cathedral in\u00a0Washington.[44. Over a thousand Oberlin students participated in the anti-war rally in the nation’s capital. See\u00a0OR<\/i>\u00a0(May 11, 1970). At the Washington rally it was also announced that Oberlin would host a “Kent-in-exile,” providing facilities for Kent students “to live, work, and struggle out of Oberlin.”] And the students also considered what to do about the forthcoming\u00a0commencement.<\/p>\n

At meetings on May 12 and 14, the senior class voted to hold the baccalaureate and\u00a0commencement ceremonies, though with a number of modifications that addressed the painful\u00a0contexts of the preceding weeks. Accordingly the procession at baccalaureate was canceled and\u00a0a silent, fifteen-minute vigil preceded the academic procession at commencement. Moreover,\u00a0silent reflection followed the benediction at the end of the commencement, and cap and gown[45. A traditional uniform that in February had been supported by 102 of 186 seniors voting on the issue. As in early Oberlin, economy entered the picture. “Paper gowns to replace the traditional gown rental has been under discussion by the class officers. The idea was discarded due to the impracticality of such material in the event of an Oberlin downpour. At present the officers are considering acetate gowns, which are also inexpensive, but less perishable.”\u00a0OR<\/i>\u00a0(February 10, 1970).] were rejected by the students. Regalia was optional for the faculty. Students, explicitly aware\u00a0that commencement was \u201can important symbolic event for many seniors, and, even more, for\u00a0the parents and families of many seniors\u201d decided that there would be, however, a \u201cbasic\u00a0uniformity of dress among those receiving diplomas in the Commencement ceremony\u201d: the\u00a0men wore white shirts, dark pants and shoes or sandals; the women, dresses.[46. See “A Statement by the Class of 1970” in the 1970 Commencement Program (Oberlin College Archives) and accounts in\u00a0OR<\/i>\u00a0(May 13, 1970 and May 15, 1970). The student decision made interestingly ironic an advertisement in the OR (May 23, 1970). Lawson’s Menswear featured a mortar-board with the message “Our Hats Off to Our Grads.”]<\/p>\n

The Oberlin News-Tribune<\/em> (May 28, 1970) featured a front-page picture of the academic\u00a0procession being formed. The caption is informative.<\/p>\n

Pomp and Circumstance were at a minimum among members of the Oberlin College\u00a0Class of 1970 as they lined up, awaiting the beginning of the academic procession at\u00a0the commencement on Monday morning. Faculty members and other dignitaries\u00a0stuck it out with traditional caps and gowns. O[berlin] C[ollege] officials report that\u00a0reaction to the new informality from visiting alumni and parents of graduates was\u00a0sympathetic. TV coverage was favorable too and both Lorain County daily papers\u00a0featured photographs of a hound dog lolling on the ground while the honorary\u00a0degree party marched by rather than the novelty of a graduation without the\u00a0standard regalia.\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

The commencement novelty made national news as well, with a picture in Time.<\/em>[47. Time<\/i>\u00a0(June 8, 1970), 12. The text noted that “at Oberlin College, graduates wore street dress, having donated their cap-and-gown fees to a city youth program.”]<\/p>\n

The abandonment of cap and gown by the senior class was multivalent in its\u00a0effectiveness. The refund money from the gown rental could go to the student, to the Strike\u00a0Fund (in support of the antiwar activities), or to a class gift fund in support of local community\u00a0projects.[48. OR<\/i>\u00a0(May 13, 1970) and “Letter from the Class Gift Committee” in Oberlin College Archives, 0\/00\/14 box 11 Commencement Files 1966-1971.] The dramatic contrast from traditional expectation vividly underscored that given\u00a0the extraordinary circumstances of May, 1970, \u201cbusiness as usual\u201d was an impossible response.\u00a0Certainly the innovative dress brought wider attention to the issues of the day and to the school\u00a0itself. And despite the specific political trigger for the abandonment of the tradition–the Kent\u00a0State events–the new mode of dress was certainly nurtured in a larger cultural sense by\u00a0pervasive discontent with social norms. In a description of Degas\u2019 painting \u201cThe Cotton\u00a0Market, New Orleans,\u201d John Harvey underscores that the black that the men wear is tied to\u00a0formality, position, and the impersonality of expertise.[49. Harvey, 9.] These qualities are easily transferred to\u00a0traditional academic costume as well. That is, in rejecting the black gown, the students also\u00a0rejected the formality and status of the mainstream. Given Oberlin\u2019s radical reputation at the\u00a0time,[50. Oberlin’s reputation was a problem for college admissions. Then Assistant Director of Admissions, Carl Bewig, observed: “When a lot of people think of Oberlin, they envision long-haired hippies, Communists, and political activists. The image keeps away conservative kids and others from conservative backgrounds whose parents are concerned about their poor little innocent daughters.”\u00a0OR,\u00a0<\/i>January 30, 1970.] such a move is unsurprising.<\/p>\n

The 1970 commencement marked the dissolution of a tradition, but simultaneously gave\u00a0birth to the elements that are now seen as traditional parts of the Oberlin commencement. One\u00a0is the perpetuation of the commencement ceremony as a forum for political protest. Black\u00a0balloons, colored ribbons, armbands, and a mock funeral procession have all been employed in\u00a0the protest against the Solicitor General of the US,[51. Erwin N. Griswold, Solicitor General of the U.S. and College Trustee since 1936, was the commencement speaker in 1971. Four hundred black helium balloons were released and a cortege of three coffins-“The War Dead,” “School Children,” and “The Poor”-made its way to the speakers’ platform.\u00a0The Elyria Chronicle<\/i>\u00a0(May 24, 1971).] US involvement in El Salvador (1981),\u00a0actions of the College Administration (1984), South African investment (1986), and military\u00a0action in Kosovo (1999). Since the mid-1980\u2019s, students have also amended the line of march of\u00a0the academic procession. The official procession moves beneath a memorial arch\u00a0commemorating Oberlin missionaries killed in China during the Boxer Rebellion; the unofficial\u00a0line of march finds students walking around<\/em> the arch in support of Asian American sentiment\u00a0on the issue.[52. Cleveland\u00a0Plain Dealer<\/em>, May 28, 1985.]<\/p>\n

Of more prominence is the diversity of costume, now deeply entrenched in the college\u00a0culture. In the year following the \u201cKent State\u201d graduation, the senior class voted to make\u00a0commencement dress entirely a matter for the individual student\u2019s discretion, thus rejecting not\u00a0only the cap and gown, but also the uniform dress of the class of 1970. The faculty has persisted\u00a0in wearing traditional regalia, regardless of the student dress. The Oberlin Alumni Magazine<\/em>\u00a0dubbed this a \u201ctradition\u201d right away, and celebrated the resulting color of the event.<\/p>\n

Following a \u201ctradition\u201d started last year when seniors did not wear caps and gowns,\u00a0this year\u2019s graduates also marched and received degrees attired in non-academic\u00a0clothing. Whereas last year men wore white shirts and dark trouser and women\u00a0wore dresses, outfits this year ran the entire fashion gamut, ranging from quite a few\u00a0jackets and ties and dress outfits to bib overalls, shawls and long peasant skirts.\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

The result was colorful and many in the audience were casually clothed. Not being\u00a0restricted to white shirts, the males showed more variety in their attire. One male\u00a0student wore jeans and cowboy boots, but most looked well groomed…Girls\u00a0seemed partial to long dresses and there was one big, floppy brimmed hat.<\/em>[53. Oberlin Alumni Magazine<\/em> 67, no. 6 (July\/August 1971), 13.]<\/p>\n

Thirty years later, press accounts of Oberlin commencements still underscore the unusual\u00a0nature of the commencement dress as one of its leading characteristics.<\/p>\n

Student interest in cap and gown does persist, however. In 1980, for instance the Oberlin\u00a0Review<\/em> reported \u201cone of the strongest movements in several years to revive the tradition of\u00a0academic costume at graduation.\u201d Ultimately the student vote went against regalia, 292 to\u00a0124.[54. OR<\/em>, February 26, 1980.] Prior to the vote, a newspaper article outlined the spread of opinion: some note a\u00a0\u201cspecial\u2019 quality about caps and gowns and that conventional costume was important to the parents who would attend the ceremony. The counter view stresses individuality: “Dress other\u00a0than robes brings out the individual characteristics of each graduate.\u201d[55. OR<\/em>, February 15, 1980.]<\/p>\n

Addressing the individuality issue and comparing it to curricular reforms that would\u00a0also restrict a measure of free student choice, student Justin Hughes offered a point of view\u00a0against these signs of \u201cincreasing conservatism.\u201d<\/p>\n

With \u201cpomp and circumstance\u201d ringing in their ears, seniors will be voting this week\u00a0on whether or not they want caps and gowns as part of the 1980 Commencement\u00a0ceremony. The proposal to reinstitute caps and gowns shares a lot with recent\u00a0proposals to reinstitute distribution requirements; both are pertinent to getting that\u00a0little piece of paper they call a degree; both are anathema for most Oberlin\u00a0students….<\/em><\/p>\n

Part of Oberlin\u2019s tradition is its individuality and there\u2019s no reason to compare our\u00a0ceremonies with those of any other institution. Gowns create streams of uniformly clad\u00a0young people lining up to accept degrees with their faces barely visible beneath\u00a0cap and tassel. It hardly puts the stress on the individual.\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

If the seniors are going to dress up, I\u2019d rather see everyone come in costumes\u00a0representing their major. Classics majors could come in togas, government majors,\u00a0both international and American, could come dressed as Karl Marx and George\u00a0Washington respectively. Dual degree candidates would have a chance to appear in\u00a0two outfits, and, of course, individual majors could design their own costume, much\u00a0as they designed their own major.<\/em><\/p>\n

This costume-commencement would have the same effect as gowns; indeed, it\u00a0would be showy, photos of it would be worth keeping, and parents would be awed\u00a0if not impressed. Unlike gowns, everyone would retain their individuality and it\u00a0would certainly make Oberlin unique in yet another field.<\/em>[56. OR<\/em>, February 19, 1980.]<\/p>\n

In 1981 interest was again keen. The class president said that \u201cMore people seem\u00a0genuinely interested in it. There was a big push for mandatory caps and gowns that got a lot\u00a0more people interested who were opposed to them.\u201d Ultimately the \u201cnew\u201d tradition prevailed\u00a0once again.[57. OR<\/em>, April 4, 1981.]<\/p>\n

Optional dress has not precluded cap and gown; it is one choice among many. In 1982\u00a0around 45 seniors donned the traditional robes; in 1983, the African-American students wore\u00a0them as a group, a tradition that they have maintained.[58. OR<\/em>, April 29, 1983.] In 1999 the Cleveland Plain Dealer<\/em>\u00a0reported that \u201cmore than half of the graduating class of 1999 donned traditional caps and\u00a0gowns for the ceremony.\u201d[59. Cleveland Plain Dealer<\/em>, June 1, 1999.]<\/p>\n

The adoption of the gown by African-American students coincides also with the\u00a0development of a Black Parent Appreciation ceremony during commencement weekend. This\u00a0specific acknowledgment of the parents\u2019 presence on campus may also nurture the use of\u00a0regalia, as there is a popular notion that the traditional garb is particularly important to older\u00a0family members. One may also relate the adoption of regalia by blacks to common experiences\u00a0of church dress in black communities. One recent writer observes that<\/p>\n

Black Americans, especially those of us born after World War II, often speak with\u00a0bemusement of a collective black experience, \u2018that no matter where we were raised,\u00a0when it came to how one acted or dressed in church, our parents preached a\u00a0\u2018common gospel.\u2019. . . [the older generation believed] wearing fine clothes, from head\u00a0to toe, was how mortals showed reverence to God and that God\u2019s house,–a place that\u00a0had given blacks hope in times of despair and the dream of heavenly salvation that\u00a0sustained us for so long, deserved our respect.<\/em>[60. Lena Williams, cited in Gwendolyn S. O’Neal, “The African American Church, its Sacred Cosmos and Dress” in\u00a0Religion, Dress and the Body<\/i>, ed. Linda B. Arthur (Oxford, 1999), 125.]<\/p>\n

Perhaps it is a short step from the temple to the temple of learning. Moreover, African-\u00a0American students in adopting cap and gown have given themselves a high visibility as a\u00a0group, marked by distinctive ornamentation of the gown–a stole of kente cloth or a vee-shaped\u00a0stole in the red, green, and black colors of the African National Congress–that renders its\u00a0wearing, to a degree, political.[61. Cf. O’Neal, p. 127. “Traditional robes worn by preachers in Christian denominations are often modified in the Black Church by using panels of fabric with African motifs or the narrow strip palliums made of kente cloth.”]<\/p>\n

The lack of constraints that characterize commencement costume in modern Oberlin has\u00a0given a free reign to ornamentation and customizing of one\u2019s apparel. Sometimes–though\u00a0rarely– this has been conservative and historical. For instance, one physics professor who was\u00a0also an Anglican cleric took particular delight in wearing a Cranmerian Canterbury cap with his\u00a0Harvard crimson gown. Similarly, one ecclesiastically-minded student, the organist of the local\u00a0Anglican parish wore cassock and surplice, Canterbury cap, and bachelor\u2019s hood to his\u00a0graduation. Other ornamentation has been markedly playful, such as that of a small group of\u00a0faculty who in the last decade or so have embraced vintage hats of all sorts to wear with their\u00a0conventional gown and hood. This playfulness is also reflected in the diversity of student attire.<\/p>\n

In the end, the \u201cnew\u201d tradition must be seen as a colorful display of individuality\u00a0combining formal academic regalia with both formal and often decidedly informal street attire.\u00a0To some, the loss of the older tradition will inevitably represent a severing of community with\u00a0sister institutions and a loss of continuity with the earlier history of Oberlin itself. And in so\u00a0colorful a display of individuality, the communal sense of the institution will be veiled.\u00a0However, the new practice is so deeply entrenched in the college culture, that it has become\u00a0iconic of the school itself, and remains a distinctive visual manifestation of Oberlin College.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

By: S.E. Plank,\u00a0Oberlin College[1. I am grateful to my colleagues Robert Haslun, Secretary of Oberlin College, and Roland M. Baumann, College Archivist, for their kind assistance and encouragement. I dedicate this essay to the memory of Geoffrey Blodgett, Danforth Professor of History Emeritus at Oberlin and devoted chronicler of Oberlin history.] [I]f any season is … Continue reading Academic Regalia at Oberlin: the Establishment and Dissolution of a Tradition<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1622,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[39854],"tags":[43962,41842,43974,43970],"class_list":["post-1434","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-volume-1-issue-2-spring-2003","tag-1-2","tag-article","tag-oberlin","tag-s-e-plank"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.uakron.edu\/nojh\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1434","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.uakron.edu\/nojh\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.uakron.edu\/nojh\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.uakron.edu\/nojh\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1622"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.uakron.edu\/nojh\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1434"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.uakron.edu\/nojh\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1434\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1446,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.uakron.edu\/nojh\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1434\/revisions\/1446"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.uakron.edu\/nojh\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1434"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.uakron.edu\/nojh\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1434"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.uakron.edu\/nojh\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1434"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}