One of my colleagues in graduate study was active in student politics during his undergraduate studies in his native Iran. The only student group was one sanctioned by the government, and organizing workshops to discuss democracy meant risking expulsion or imprisonment. Against this, the manufactured political intrigue of the lower JDUC seems quite trivial.
That students in Iran or Burma or Venezuela take to the streets to protest oppression, corruption and inequality exhibits a university’s the core purpose: to dream of a better society. This mission is no less relevant for our universities and student movements.
I have been asked to write about student representation in advance of the AMS elections. I have departed from Queen’s and am distant from the campus pulse. What I can offer is comment on challenges for Queen’s and the essential role of a student movement. These challenges, really relevant to all of higher learning, are the following: access, innovation and engagement.
It’s easy to discount the relevance of student representation. Indeed, certain aspiring student politicos take themselves far too seriously. Yet although campaigns may feed cynicism with debates over the Queen’s Pub budget or the latest AMS discount card, the student movement has an important role to play. Student-run pubs and cafes enhance our sense of community, but student societies’ real role is representing students within university education.
Universities are, now more than ever, critical to Canada’s social progress and economic prosperity. They are focal points for technological innovation and cultural interaction. Every level of government is increasingly recognizing the importance of academia and investing in universities. Moreover, universities provide invaluable cultural blenders that mix students from a diversity of economic, ethnic and geographic backgrounds. For Canadian pluralism to move from ideal to reality, it must find expression in real communities.
Queen’s casts itself as one of Canada’s truly national universities. This sales job is increasingly difficult. Canada is urban and multi-ethnic. Universities such as UBC, York and McGill actively reach out to newcomers to Canada and their progeny. That Queen’s does not reside in a major immigrant-receiving metropole is not an excuse for homogeneity.
Especially recognizing its geographic handicaps, Queen’s historic emphasis on student financial aid, once boasting the highest per-student bursary funding in Canada, cannot be allowed to slip. A vibrant university community requires a diverse student body, and adequate bursaries are therefore more important than multi-million dollar sportsplexes.
Visit any large, research-intensive university and you will appreciate just how unique Queen’s is. Few other institutions can so well leverage a tight-knit academic community to blend teaching and research. These two missions are often presented in tension. However, my overwhelming experience is that truly frontier researchers emphasize mentorship and excel in teaching, propelled by their passion for their field. It tends to be mediocre academics who brush off interested students. University education isn’t about memorizing facts but understanding the creation and dissemination of knowledge. Therefore, it’s not a choice between undergraduate learning and research excellence, but rather a question of how we construct our academic community.
Universities must engage with their communities. Queen’s is notoriously insular. Although many students rightly aspire to public service, more flock to Ottawa for Queen’s Model Parliament than would attend a council meeting at Kingston’s city hall. Although we rightly challenge the state of student housing, a walk north of Princess Street or a visit to Tyendinaga Mohawk Territory would reveal much deeper deprivation. To say we value community means little if we blind ourselves to issues outside our privileged bubble.
So how should Queen’s student societies contribute? Firstly, by making university education its core mandate, not just printing photocopies and pouring pints; secondly, by promoting engagement in local and global communities, not simply reinforcing the student bubble; and, thirdly, by providing forums through which the student community can deliberate Queen’s values and direction, not just approve policy at AMS Assembly.
We often focus on student government hierarchies as the only means for participation. It’s election time, after all. But this is incorrect: democracy is not just a vote; it should be an ongoing conversation about a community’s values and direction. In the intoxication of a campaign, it’s easy for aspiring student politicians to forget this. Democracy is impaired when elections are more competitions of egos than conversations about ideas. Foremost, real leadership requires being a servant to one’s community and not basely serving one’s own ambition.
A graduate student at the University of British Columbia, Grant Bishop served as Engineering Society president in 2002-03 and as rector from 2004-06.
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