Interview:
New Student Director
Likes School, Oregon
By JIM YARBRAUGH
When he was asked, “What do you think
of Oregon ?” his answer, “Why do you think
I came here?”, shows the kind of man that
is Donald M. DuShane. the University’s new
director of student affairs.
Another man might have said, “It’s won
derful. I think it’s a great state.” But not Mr.
DuShane. His being here is evidence that he
likes it. He is the kind of man who would not
go where he did not like to go merely because
he was offered a good job. *
Mr. DuShane’s picture shows what he looks
like. His beliefs and his actions show what
kind of an man he is. He says, with a sincerity
that convinces, that he believes a university
should exist for the students benefit, not for
the benefit of any other group. His approach
as a director of student affair has always
aimed to encourage students to shoulder re
sponsibility and gain maturity.
His past success in dealing with students is
shown by the high esteem in which he is Held
by the students of Lawrence college, Wis
consoin where he directed student affairs for
the past twelve years. Besides the usual part
ing banquets and gifts, Mr. DuShane was hon
ored by the dedication to him of the 1947-48
Lawrence college yearbook.
Even more an indication of his prestige
and popularity are the visits Lawrence gradu
ates continue to pay him. Since his arrival
here in June, he had had four groups of for
mer Lawrence college people look him up.
Mr. DuShane is eosy to talk to. He makes
friends quickly and easily. He greets visitors
with a smile and a handshake across his neat
desk. A visitor feels welcome. It’s easy to see
why former students still want to know about
the man they call “Duck”—the man for whom
one student drew a desk-sized duck cartoon.
That nickname is one reason Mr. DuShane
feels lie was well prepared to come to Oregon.
He was a duck before he got here. Even his
shiny new Studebaker fits. It's green. But the
friendly, cooperative attitude of the students
he met during his March visit to the compus
.did much to convince him to leave Lawrence.
Mr. DuShane’s spare time this summer was
spent pulling weeds and cutting gross around
his home in Eugene and—as associate director
for men. Virgil S. Eogdall, says—admiring
his new Studebaker.
Of Oregon’s weather, DuShane says his
March visit was a good introduction. He came
without a raincoat and didn’t get wet. He ad
mits that might have been because he seemed
to get places between showers. But he doesn't
believe it’s too wet here.
Asked about his special interests, DuShane
says, ‘‘If it can be called a hobby, mine is
reading. lie is a student of political science
and finds the current political scene a fascin
ating one.
lie didn't say whether pipe collecting is a
hobby, but, as he re-lit the one he clenched
between his teeth, lie mentioned that he has
more than ninety. Yet he thinks everybody
smokes enough, himself included.
Once Mr, DuShane was a reporter. Hfe
worked two years on a newspaper ond then
quit to go into business, lie says he still likes
journalism but would rather be an owner
publisher. After his business experience, he
went to Columbia university for graduate
work. He was there four years before going
to Lawrence.
Both lie and his wife were born and educat
ed in Indiana—he hesitated to call it "west.”
Now they are looking forward to a successful
career here, and Mr. DuShane, the “Duck,”
•says, "1 want to make college life more enjoy
able ond more productive for the students.
iThe University exists for their benefit."
The New Crop
The thousands of young men and women preparing to enter
American colleges and universities this fall need only scan
the headlines of any daily newspaper to realize that they are
beginning their higher education in certainly the most critical
period in world history. The peoples of the earth seem hovering
on the brink of a third world war. Everywhere pessimists are
throwing up their arms in despair. Civilization is doomed!
Never before, probably, have members of a freshman class
had more reason to cross over the threshold of college life with
a greater sense of hopelessness and dejection. The new draft
law will be to them striking evidence of the gravity of the world
situation. Many of the young men of the class will know thata
they must sooner or later don uniforms because true peace did
not come with the signing of the peace treaties following World
War II.
Yet, amid the gloom the boys with the wise money are bet
ting that this class of 1952 will be notable for its cheerful opti
mism. The reason? History, they point out, has shown that as
older generations have faltered, youth has always come for
word with new and bright hope. The greater the sense of de
feat among the former, the greater the optimism of the latter.
The collective degree of defeat among today’s older generations
could hardly be greater.
If these young men and women fulfill the predictions of the
railbirds it can be expected that a large portion of them will
select schools offering liberal, well-rounded educations. For
many years there has been a trend by students toward schools
offering greater and greater concentration in specialized fields.
This specialization has added greatly to the material wealth of
the world. (Its latest creation—the atom bomb.) But material
wealth can be of little value unless means of controlling and
distributing it are devised. The great thinkers of the day are
almost unanimous in their belief that the real hope for peace
in the coming years will rest with the college students who are
today getting their educations at institutions \};here liberal arts
courses receive the greatest emphasis.
To young men and women of college age who still believe
there is some hope for human salvation and the kind of a
world for which men have always longed, the University of
Oregon—-center of liberal arts studies for the Oregon State
System of Higher Education—extends a welcoming hand
this fall.
A Walk with Many Men
The doy you sally forth clothed in cap, gown and dignity to
toss good-luck pennies into the lap of the Pioneer Mother, you’ll
probably he a different person than you are today. Oh, your
hair will be the same color, (unless a thread or two has turned
gray,) but you'll think differently than now about lots of things.
And you are what you think.
These big changes won’t always sprout from what you
learn in class, for you can go therugh course after course with
one ear marked Entrance and the other marked Exit. The
changes depend on what you do with your extra hours. And
what you do with these hours depends, in turn, largely on the
person with whom you spend them.
The people you can meet in a university the size of Oregon
are as varied as the bottles on the shelves of a large delicatessen
store. Go to the Side some morning about ten to eavesdrop, and
you'll know what we mean.
Girls will be talking about boys, and vice versa, “old dogs”
will be discussing the old days, ond o few students might even
be talking about we-don’t know-what in another language.
In the dark back booth of the back room several campusites
will he clustered arguing out Nietzche, or world federation or
Grecian pottery. You join them; you're bored at first, but
impressed by their seeming great knowledge. Bring your coffee
and sit with them again, and you begin to view them differently.
They seem so smart, but they complain at how little they know.
Even though they be mole-like in word and appearance, several
of them, you discover, are the campus’ more active citizens. And
you begin to wish you knew something about world federation.
That’s good. You begin to read, ask questions, to listen with
interest. Soon you are at that growing state where you can
talk world federation or the philosophy of Nietzsche and still
brood about how little you know.
Ton’ll begin to hunger for new ideas; you won't be afraid
talk with social butterflies, scholostic moles, people who don’t
share your ideas, ond students from foreign countries.
But whether your opinions on golf, philosophy, or Chinese
fpod change or grow stronger in the original pattern you won’t
give the credit for your versatility to yourself. For you have
walked four years with many men.—B. H.
Oregon if Emerald
The Oregon Daily Emerald, official publication of the University of
Oregon, published daily during the college yeor except Sundays, Mon
days, and final examination periids.
Entered as second-class matter at the postoffice, Eugene, Ore.
Member of the Associated Collegiate Press
Books:
Here's a Good One
For Summer Reading
By TERRY REVENAUGH
“ZOTZ!” Walter Karig. 268 pages Rine-,
hart and Co. $2.75.
Are YOU in the know ? About the atom
bomb, secret weapons and related problems?
Ability to discuss these questions is the cri
terion of good citizenship, good scholarship
and good standing with the Powers on camp
us, in classroom or anywhere.
“ZOTZ!” is a compact, fast-moving hand
book on secret weapons, spies, White House1
conferences, and the musty corridors of mili
tary departments where the fate of the world,
is decided. It is a crafty, malicious, satiric
comment on American political and bureacra
tic life. It’s fun to read, too. _
Professor John Jones, of St. Jude’s Theo
logical Seminary, is suddenly posessed of the
power to take human life by simply pointing
his finger and saying “ZOTZ!” This places’
him in the same position as the United States
with the atomic bomb. Professor Jones, a -
conscientious citizen, decides to use his power
for the good of his country and of the world, ,
Jones is a Man, too. He takes direct action by
trying to see only the President. Unfortunate
ly for Jones, even though he’s listed in Who’s
Who, it isn’t possible to just drop in on the
President.
Thus begins Jones’ two-year trek through'
departments of the FBI, the Democratic 1
National Committe, the departments of State,
Army, Navy and Air Force, and secretories of ,
the White House. There’s even a beautiful
librarian at St. Jude’s, suspected of voodooism
and espionage, who adds to Jones’ troubles.
“ZOTZ!” is told by Captain Walter Karig,
Navy Public Relations, who should know if ■
anybody does. He tried to get Jones in with
the top brass. He tried to warn them.
“ZOTZ!” is loaded with good phrases
handy to toss around in atom-bomb discus- .
sions. Such as “Quisling of the universe.” Or,
in the words of Professor Jones, “I am not
content to leave judgement to posterity. There
will be no posterity unless this generation ac
quires judgement for itself.”
The conclusion fo “ZOTZ!” will leave you
breathless even apprehensive, for Professor ■
Jones disappears. See that scholarly old
gentleman walking across campus? Don’t
dismiss him as just another professor. Yester
day I saw him watching a squirrel. The old
man raised his hand, pointed his finger and
.Well, it could happen here.
Summer Sidelights . . .
Last year's Emerald editor, Bob Frazier
has departed from the Oregon campus eight 1
years after his first wait in the registration
line. He is now wire editor on the Eugene .
Register-Guard.
Sallie Timmens and Larry Lau, Emerald
gossip columnist and man-about-town col- '
umnist, respectively, will be married on Sep
tember 4. The ceremony will NOT take place '
in the Shack.”
Lex and Barbara Gunn of Saturday Even
ing Post fame are presently guests of produ
cer Leland Hayward in California. They are '
negotiating to sell the movie rights to their
story on the life of the married veteran on the
University of Oregon campus.
STAFF THIS ISSUE l
BILL YATES
Editor
VIRGIL TUCKER
Business Manager
JO RAWLINS
News Editor
BARBARA HEYWOOD
Associate Editor
CARL CLUFF
Sports Editor
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