Viking_Yearbook_67

44-45 Balconies holding gasps of glass suspended in cement tension enclosed part of the Science Department this year. Old Main still held a majority of classes, but the new building gave science space for some expansion. The elevator stuttered a t each floor, but the offices, one lecture hall, labs for upper division classes, and more adequate space for equipment were reasons for welcoming the structure. 46 At last the animals have a home. Rats share the pent­ house of this six-story building with sundry mice, chipmunks, ducks, chickens, sometimes rabbits and cats, a few snakes and a fly colony—all under the care of the animal caretaker, a position new to the department this year. Cleaning three animal rooms presents the problem of garbage. Unaccountably, the nervous, new structure has no incinerator, and janitors are decidely against handling the possibly infectious remains from experiments. Scientific solution: don’t burn the debris; freeze it. After two weeks of cold, killing all dangers, it receives a warm welcome a t the Old Main incinerator. 47 A more serious application of scientific ingenuity is found on the fifth floor, which is devoted to private research. Here the scientists weave together some of their segmented knowl­ edge in their various disciplines and, thus, create. An example of this artistry is the work of Allen Berntzen who has developed a mechanical device in which he can re­ create and hold constant any environment. A parasite is placed in a genuine-imitation of the living conditions provided by its usual host—say the environment of an intestine. There, the parasite lives and grows as it would in a real animal, and more realistic studies of host-parasite interrelationships are possible. Controlled culture is a sensitive system which, because of the intricate balance of factors, remains, like life, constantly in process, constantly dynamic. Only a synthesis of knowledge in biology, chemistry, physics made possible the creation of such a unique process. 48-49 For the first time this year, freshmen were focused on a new approach to science which may help them cultivate the researcher’s ability to cross scientific border-lines and draw freely from the several disciplines. The vehicle is the core­ course, offered mainly for science majors. It is an experimental course which combines the material covered separately in the introductory courses of biology, chemistry and physics into a unified, two-year sequence (six hours per term for six terms). Lab and lecture topics fluctuate readily. The thirty PSC stu­ dents involved are perhaps the first in the nation to be in a course of this nature. Further developments in curriculum, research, and general lab facilities await the legislative approval of a second new building in 1968. Eventually (1980), a complex of five build­ ings will stand. Hopefully, the rest will have incinerators. 50-51 What do you see? A poor, little, forlorn child? A po­ tential swinger? A future motherhood USA? Human development is a process we all have endured, but one which few observe objectively. However, in Psy 311, Human Development, students observe and compile notes on the behavior of a child no older than ten years. The approach must be scientific—no preconceptions. Sharpened perceptions are the necessary tools for precision. So . . . What can a blue dress tell about a child? Is the dress dirty? Is it freshly ironed? Are her eyes blue, too? Does someone maybe care? Do her socks clash with the color of the dress? Is she wearing socks? Are her shoes scuffed? Is she barefoot? What do shoeless feet say of a small girl’s pastime? Perhaps she likes to run. How does she show her anger and frustration? Is she constantly with others or does she play alone? The collected observations answering these questions won’t provide conclusions about her future. But a statement will he made defining her present state of development. 52-53 “Every day is anthropology day in the Anthropology Department.” Anthropologists roam. For example. Assistant Professor D. Scheans spent 1963-64 in a Philippine village studying kinship and social organization. Various other department members have lived with Papago and Navajo Indians, people in India, Chile, Japan, South Africa, or Mexico. Home a t PSC, the department members dwell this year in a house which seems ordinary from the outside. But inside— the basemented anthropology labs have forehead-level ceilings and a magnificent pipe decor. “We are suggesting a new pre­ requisite for our majors—either a height limited to 5' 5" or a pronounced stoop,” said the anthropologist lowly. Upstairs, each office is equipped with its own bare 200 watt bulb, placed centrally in the ceiling. But the anthropologists are a bright lot. They adjust. 54-55 Law Enforcement executed the plans of a new modus operand! this year. Although the course has served time in the PSC catalogue since Vanport, its progress has been held up. However, encouragement from the 1965 legislature to line up a four-year program, plus the help of a two-year, $81,000 grant from the Office of Law Enforcement Assistance, clarified and expanded this one-time fuzzy program. Graduating in law enforcement doesn’t warrant a badge. Rather, the program investigates and testifies to the facts of enforcement, arresting attention upon new, more efficient methods of enforcement. The books can make the theories known, but only experi­ ence can make a police officer. 56-61 Arts and Letters, frivolous and fine, graphic and graf­ fiti, found its own media as “handwriting on the wall” came into vogue like free soup and bananas. The temporary walls along South Park Hall’s east side recorded doodles that often amounted to epigrammatic manifestos. Some were merely silly signs that students, alas, got maximum use out of the building —they could even write on it! Coincidental it was, since most of the scrawl reflected what the four-floored complex held—a division that tried to direct a new voice, vitality, and maybe even a vision or two, toward the life that is Art. Someone wrote “A naked body is nature’s way to saying ‘Hi!’ ” Sketching classes armed themselves with charcoal and returned the greeting with a nude model who must certainly have felt she’d never left nature (studios being somewhat artistically out of key with the heating system, as fresh and cold as all outdoors). Clay, plaster, stone, wood or metal- fledgling artists attacked them all in the creative study of all aspects of sculpture. Media was the message. David Falconer, Oregonian pho­ tographer, offered the first professional class in the tact and technique of communicating with a camera. Relating the relevant to functional art forms (everything’s relevant!) and stressing practical design application in advertising, easterner Gerald Kilborn showed students the significant currents in graphic art. In the advanced design course, Arvid Orbeck took classes beyond that. Media marched on as Orbeck taught the tactics he uses with almost sleight of hand finesse, that made him one of Portland’s finest graphic artists. The Speech Department held out for the spoken word! The department’s Forensic and symposium activities brought home an impressive array of awards. With the aid of several federal grants, the Speech and Hearing Science program grew, and