#tim wolfe

Chubby Santa Bear, Tim Wolfe 1996

From CNN

Like millions of people do every weekend, I sat down to watch college and professional football this past weekend. Over the last few years, I have come to perceive this sport in a different light. While I still enjoy watching the game, new thoughts have emerged that have caused me to think about the larger, cultural aspects of America's new national pastime. Specifically, I have started to ponder the ways that colleges benefit from student athletes. On Saturday evening, African American players on the University of Missouri football joined in a protest to have the University of Missouri system president Tim Wolfe step down. The players declared that they would not play or participate in football related activities unless Wolfe resigned. (At the time of this post, Wolfe has stepped down.) There are larger aspects of this story that others have, and will continue, to explore. I want to take a minute here to look briefly at the football players's protest and its correlation to literature. To begin with, the Wall Street Journal notes that African Americans make up only 7% of the 35,000 students at the University of Missouri, 2,450 students. Of the 84 scholarships on the football team, African Americans receive 58 (about 70%).  This statistic caused me to think about watching football games, and most notably college football games, every weekend. As the cameras pan to show shots of the crowd, I notice the stands filled with a majority of white spectators, and it makes me recall Jason Whitlock's statements in 2010 comparing the NCAA to the "plantation" system. (I cannot find the original article online. If you have a link to it, let me know in the comments below.) The football coaches and other players supported the boycott.  

All of this, of course, is not new. In fact, when reading John A. Williams's Sons of Darkness, Sons of Light (1969), the topic arises, albeit in passing.  As Eugene Browning travels throughout the country to raise money for the IRJ, he stops  over in Chicago to meet with Bobby Odum, the Chicago Bears's fullback.

He had almost finished his book on discrimination in professional athletics, the book that would tell how black athletes were paid less than white ones (except in his case); how some college coaches, teamed with sharp attorneys, chiseled goodly portion of the monies offered by the pros to a promising college back; how white athletes and ex-athletes like Tarkentin, Cooz, Giff and Goldie Hornung got endorsements, but black stars (himself included) got nothing, not even Bill Russell, and Willie Mays had to make due with Alaga Syrup and Petrocelli clothes. Odum had backed the last Olympic boycott by black athletes. (74-75)

While white athletes receive the bulk of money and endorsements, in the period of the novel, African American athletes struggled after their playing days ended. One need only think of Jesse Owens to see an example. This reminds me of Troy Maxson's argument in August Wilson's Fences when he talks about Selkirk's numbers for the Yankees compared to his own. Near the end of the meeting between Odum and Eugene, Odum comments on the current state of affairs in pro sports specifically,  "But for all his game, Odum was a bitter man; if he had been white, or if the deals were fair, his life would have been different. 'What the average fan doesn't know,' he said, 'is that the plantation mentality is still present in pro ball'" (75). Even though some things have changed, the inherent structure that Odum comments on in Williams's 1969 novel remains today in conversations regarding college and professional athletics. 

I want to conclude this post with a little historical context for Odum's character. It appears that Williams based Odum on Cleveland Browns running back Jim Brown, who wrote his autobiography, Off My Chest, in 1964. In the book, Brown, according to Richard Crepeau, "wrote bluntly about his racial views and candidly assessed a number of football personalities, something that simply was not done by players, let alone black players" (80). Not focusing on the monetary discrepancies, Crepeau continues his discussion of African Americans in the NFL during the 1960s by mentioning Jack Olsen's 1968 Sports Illustrated article on racial discrimination in the league. Olsen noted that each team had quotas for the number of African Americans on their team, and that certain positions (quarterback, center, linebacker, and guard) were typically occupied by white players because of the "intelligence" need to perform well at those positions. African Americans occupied skill positions (running back and wide receiver) and defensive back positions. One thing we can take away from all of this in regards to athletics is that protest and sports have a strong relationship; think about the 1968 Olympics, Jackie Robinson, or other events. The players at the University of Missouri brought the issues on their campus to a national audience, resulting in the resignation of Wolfe. Money, no doubt, played a role in all of this because the school would have lost millions of dollars the longer the football team didn't play. Even with that aspect, though, the protests by the football players, coupled with others, serves to show us the powerful role of sports in our society. What are your thoughts on this? What other novels, plays, etc. tackle the same subject? Let me know in the comments below. 

TIm Wolfe Blames Black Lives Matter, Football Team For Resignation In Confidential Letter To Missouri Supporters

Former University of Missouri president Tim Wolfe is blaming some of the central figures involved in the unrest that brought the university to national attention in an email to people he confided in — labeled “CONFIDENTIAL.”

Wolfe stepped down from his position last November after a black student’s hunger strike led the controversy surrounding the treatment of minority college students.

Friend…

In a scathing letter sent to prominent donors, former University of Missouri President Timothy M. Wolfe rips into current university leaders, looking to correct the record on “unconscionable behaviors” that he says led to his resignation in November.

Wolfe says he stepped down in order to avoid another Ferguson-like scene on campus, fearing that the situation could have soon become dangerous. But he assigns the bulk of the blame for problems — including the escalation of racial tension — to others, chief among them, R. Bowen Loftin, the former chancellor of the Columbia campus.

“As I have stated, I am willing to accept some of the responsibility for what happened,” Wolfe writes. “I made the mistake of hiring Bowen Loftin and I trusted the Board of Curators to support my decisions and to do what is in the best interest of the University of Missouri System rather then to cave in to politicians and special interest groups with agendas that are contrary to the mission of the university.”

Wolfe stepped down amid demonstrations calling for his ouster, a student’s hunger strike and a pledge by university football players not to take the field again until Wolfe left office.

Students were upset over Wolfe’s perceived indifference to a number of racist incidents on campus. Critics say Wolfe refused to talk to protesters when confronted about the incidents.

Wolfe has been quiet since stepping down, refusing to respond to interview requests. The letter is the first glimpse into his thinking two months after he became a national example of how student activism can disrupt the highest reaches of a university.

In the letter, Wolfe casts himself as a fall guy. He suggests a number of campus leaders could have defused the protests. Instead, he argues, student anger was unfairly directed toward him.

But the letter might best be described as Wolfe’s plea to influential donors to support him in negotiating a severance package. At the end of the letter, he explicitly asks recipients to contact university board members on his behalf.

“My call to action for each of you is to pick up the phone, or at a minimum send an email to the board members … and express your concern over the current situation and tell them to resolve my contract negotiation,” Wolfe writes.

Wolfe paints himself as someone waging wars on different fronts — fighting off meddling board members and fending off legislators trying to influence university policies. He singles out Missouri Sen. Kurt Schaefer, R-Columbia, for meddling in matters related to a campus controversy concerning Planned Parenthood.

Wolfe vs. Loftin

The letter sheds further light on the power struggle that was already taking place within the system even before the campus protests, namely the hostility between Wolfe and Loftin.

Wolfe takes aim at Loftin on a broad range of issues: for “angering the Greek community, pressuring health system Vice Chancellor Hal Williamson to retire, stripping graduate assistants of their benefits and caving to members of the Legislature as lawmakers tried to restrict Planned Parenthood operations in Missouri.”

Wolfe accuses Loftin of shifting the focus of student anger over the racist incidents away from himself and onto the president.

For those reasons and more, Wolfe said he should have fired Loftin, but did not get the support he needed from the board.

On Wednesday night, Loftin said he hadn’t seen the entire letter, but wanted to respond to the part where Wolfe accused him of engineering student behavior.

“To imagine that I had the ability to manipulate students like they’re puppets is ludicrous,” he said. “They are bright people. How could I get them to do anything?”

In the days leading up to Wolfe’s resignation, he came under fire from protesters after refusing to get out of his car when confronted by student activists at a homecoming parade. Later, in speaking on the issue he appeared to blame black students for having a victim’s mentality.

Some of the same protesters said online Wednesday they targeted Wolfe because as president, he had more power than Loftin.

Faculty Council Chairman Ben Trachtenberg questioned the truthfulness of some parts of the letter, specifically where Wolfe accuses Loftin of directing student anger toward the president.

“That’s insulting,” Trachtenberg said. “These are intelligent people.”

Gas on the fire

Wolfe criticizes Mizzou’s Director of Intercollegiate Athletics Mack Rhoades and former football coach Gary Pinkel for failing to tamp down anger expressed by members of the football team.

Protests had been building for much of the fall, but they didn’t get national attention until the team threatened to strike.

“The football team’s actions were the equivalent of throwing gasoline on a small fire,” Wolfe writes. “Coach Pinkel missed an important opportunity to teach his players a valuable life lesson.”

Instead, Wolfe writes, officials wanted to avoid losing $1 million if players forfeited a nationally televised game with Brigham Young University.

“In hindsight, the $1 million penalty associated with forfeiting the game against BYU would have paled in comparison to the more than $25 million in lost tuition and fees MU will realize with reduced enrollment this Fall,” he wrote. “It’s also a pittance of the threatened loss of state funding that could be as much as $500 million.”

Wolfe does not explain in the letter how he arrived at those estimates.

Officials on campus have long known about Wolfe’s anger toward Loftin and Pinkel, but it caught some off guard that he also took a shot at Interim President Michael Middleton, who has long been involved in university diversity and inclusion efforts.

Wolfe charges that Middleton had a “long-term” relationship with Jonathan Butler, the student who went on a nearly weeklong hunger strike calling for Wolfe to step down.

“The board and Michael have to answer the following questions,” Wolfe said. “Why did the Board of Curators decide to hire the leader who had failed miserable (sic) in his capacity as the longtime leader on diversity issues on the MU campus?

“Why did Michael Middleton choose not to stop the growing protest in spite of his relationship with Jonathan Butler and the minority students on campus?” Wolfe continued.

Trachtenberg, the faculty leader, called Wolfe’s comments disappointing.

“It’s too bad,” Trachtenberg said. “When Tim Wolfe resigned, he gave a nice speech about doing what’s in the best interest of the university. But when you send a message like this letter, it’s not at all good for the university.”

Trachtenberg also defended Middleton as someone who worked hard to broker conversations between students and university officials at the height of the protests.

“Michael Middleton was doing tremendous work,” he said.

TARGETING CURATORS

Wolfe’s complaints didn’t end with university administrators. He also criticizes the Board of Curators, the governing body for the university’s campuses in Columbia, St. Louis, Kansas City and Rolla.

“A few of the members of the board of curators consistently called subordinate staff and faculty members to dig up dirt and use their curator role to further personal agendas,” Wolfe said.

Wolfe ultimately says he decided to resign to keep the campus safe. He said stepping down was motivated by a “pending event that was to occur on the campus” the day of his resignation.

A number of law enforcement agencies including the FBI were aware of a “significant Ferguson protestor” on campus and the threat of several more arriving later,” Wolfe wrote. “So as to prevent injury and further embarrassment on our campus, the only way to relieve the pressure and stop the momentum was for me to resign.”

CURATOR RESIGNS

Wolfe’s letter became public on the day of continued leadership changes at the university.

Curator Yvonne S. Sparks, who had been named to the board in November after Wolfe’s departure, wrote a letter of resignation Wednesday to Gov. Jay Nixon.

Sparks had yet to be confirmed by the Missouri Senate. She said that after “careful consideration” she could not devote the time necessary to the position.

Also on Wednesday, Mizzou’s new interim chancellor, Hank Foley, delivered his State of the University address.

Without directly mentioning Wolfe’s letter, Foley said Mizzou needs to adapt and address racial tension brought to light during protests.

He urged those who protested in the fall and those who were embarrassed by the national attention the protests garnered to find common ground.

“Whether you’re driven by enthusiasm for progress, equity, for movement, or by the desire to protect and preserve great traditions and a world-class reputation, what each of you expects and wants is an even stronger and better university,” Foley said, “and we can do that, together.”

Jack Suntrup of the Post-Dispatch contributed to this report.

Tim Wolfe, Mizzou, and the Tigers

[Note: Drew Laurens will continue his interview with Jacob Sumners in his next installment on December 20th.] By Drew Laurens It is my belief that once a university invests heavily in a sports program, then the moral compass of the institution needs to be retuned. This is because all too often the lesson being taught at places whose sports teams have greater import than educational programs is…

”Create a problem then protest your false problem.....Classic tacitic of hate groups. Create a cause when none exists.”

There are many comments I could post here that I’ve read about the Mizzou protests but this one stood out to me. The one that calls black students a hate group. 

I am outraged at the response of the general public regarding the Concerned Student 1950 movement. Outraged. 

You are denying the problem, denying the voices of these students, but most of all, deny reality.

I’m sorry that you haven’t seen enough concrete evidence to prove that racism exists. I’m sorry that students yelling slurs from trucks, people drawing extremist symbols on campus property, administrators denying systemic disadvantages, community members talking about shooting black people online, aren’t enough for you to realize why people of color are angry. 

For those of you claiming that these students are irrational or abusing the power of free speech: you are hypocritical. These students are well aware that universities can’t cater to every need and whim of the student body. They aren’t asking for protection from people who say offensive things. They are spreading a message letting their school know that this has to end. Tim Wolfe, while I’m sure an admirable man, did nothing to address these concerns and even claimed black students have the same opportunities as everyone else. 

Racism on college campuses doesn’t have consist of someone being sprayed with a high-power fire hose to be real. Discrimination today is the fact that I usually only have one black student in my college courses. It’s the fact that fraternities turn away females because they aren’t hot white girls. Racism is when my classmates ask me why we have to have African-American studies or Black Student Associations. It’s manifested in every American who complains about affirmative action. It’s the video of the Mizzou homecoming parade where white students cheer as black protestors are forcibly removed from the scene.

The students at Mizzou have one goal: to inform the university and general public of their plight and encourage change. They do not intend to shame the majority or complain that they have it harder than everyone else. The system has improved, but it hasn’t been fixed, and it will take more than one white student claiming “they’re not a racist” to fix it.