March 10, 2014- chronicle.com

One Email, Much Outrage

How a seemingly simple message 
to students brought digital-age disaster for a 
Wisconsin professor


Courtney Perry for The Chronicle

Rachel Slocum, an assistant professor of geography at the U. of Wisconsin at La 
Crosse, 
found herself at the center of a firestorm after sending a brief email 
to students.

By Peter Schmidt

Rachel Slocum’s problems began with an email she sent at the end of long day.

It was Tuesday, October 1, and the federal government had partially shut down 
as a result of a budget impasse. The U.S. Census Bureau and Education 
Department websites were out of commission, leaving the students in her 
introductory geography class without access to data for an assignment.

"Hi everyone," she wrote to the 18 students in the online course. "Some of the 
data gathering assignment will be impossible to complete until the 
Republican/Tea Party controlled House of Representatives agrees to fund the 
government."

She urged her students to do whatever work they could. The rest, she wrote, 
"will have to wait until Congress decides we actually need a government."

 
Katie Johnson, 
a student 
in Ms. Slocum’s class and 
a political activist, 
helped spread her professor’s message via Facebook 
and Twitter.

At 10:23 p.m., she hit send.

Without knowing it, she had just put herself on a political battle’s front 
lines.

With the click of a button on her laptop, she became the focus of a national 
controversy that rattled her employer, the University of Wisconsin at La 
Crosse, and continues to threaten her career.

In an instant, the assistant professor of geography joined a growing list of 
college instructors whose lives have been thrown into turmoil when their words 
were relayed far beyond intended audiences via the Internet. Their ranks 
include professors whose provocative statements in the classroom were 
surreptitiously videotaped by students and posted online, professors who vented 
frustrations on Facebook or Twitter and then watched their posts go viral, and 
professors whose work-related websites were combed by advocacy groups for 
evidence of the political indoctrination of students.

All have had to face the uncomfortable truth that the digital age is testing 
many of the old rules governing what professors can and can’t say. The viral 
spread of controversies over college instructors’ speech has placed their 
employers under intense pressure to discipline faculty members, straining 
institutional commitments to academic freedom.

Ms. Slocum’s email popped up in the inbox of Katie Johnson, a senior who was 
taking the course while working as an intern at Americans for Tax Reform, an 
antitax advocacy group based in Washington.

Ms. Johnson had become politically active as a college freshman out of a sense 
that she needed to challenge the liberalism she found to be widespread among 
her professors and classmates at LaCrosse. To her, this email was exactly the 
kind of thing that crossed a line.

Thirty years ago a student bothered by something a professor said might have 
spoken directly to that professor or, at most, submitted a complaint to a dean. 
Ms. Johnson still had such options available, but she took a different route. 
She posted screen shots of Ms. Slocum’s message on Facebook and Twitter. "Can’t 
do my homework for class; govt. shutdown," she tweeted to her 3,000 followers. 
"So my prof blames Republicans in an email blast."

The posts, Ms. Johnson now says, were intended only "for my immediate network 
to see." If so, she, like her professor, would wake up the next day to a 
surprise.

On Wednesday, October 2, Ms. Slocum got out of bed, sat down to a breakfast of 
vanilla yogurt and coffee, and logged onto her laptop. Her inbox was being 
bombarded.

Vitriolic emails from strangers denounced the message she had sent to 18 
students the night before.

Some threatened to have her fired. Others described plans to lobby state 
lawmakers to stop giving tax money to her college.

"Clearly you have forgotten that the student is your customer," one person 
wrote. "They pay you for services rendered." Another told Ms. Slocum: "Quit 
your job because you are a worthless douchebag." By lunch, the professor would 
find herself up against an entire network of conservative organizations.

Those players—which include watchdog groups like Campus Reform, online 
publications, and local and national talk-radio shows—have sought to expose 
college professors for liberal bias and put colleges under pressure to rein 
them in. Activists on the left are similarly capable of protesting conservative 
speech they finds offensive, but they have not established organizations that 
monitor faculty speech, and campaigns demanding the firing of conservative 
academics are much less common than those directed at academics seen as liberal.

Early that day, Vicki McKenna, a conservative talk-radio host whose program 
airs in several Wisconsin cities, had posted a copy of Ms. Slocum’s 
government-shutdown email on a Facebook page for her listeners.

That got the attention of Ethan Hollenberger, a graduate of Marquette 
University whom Ms. Johnson had met through the state chapter of the College 
Republicans, which she assisted as social-media director. Mr. Hollenberger, who 
now worked as a research associate for Media Trackers, a Wisconsin-based 
conservative watchdog group, called Ms. Johnson and asked for her blessing to 
write a blog entry about the professor’s email.

She answered yes, but asked him not to name her as the email’s source. She 
assumed her professor had never gotten wind of her earlier Facebook and Twitter 
posts about the email and did not want Mr. Hollenberger to out her as the one 
who made it public.

Ms. Slocum could see early signs of trouble on campus.

Some of the angry emails to her had been copied to the geography department’s 
chairwoman, Cynthia Berlin.

Having been denied tenure the year before, Ms. Slocum knew her future at La 
Crosse was already limited. But early Wednesday afternoon, trying to get ahead 
of the situation, Ms. Slocum sent Ms. Berlin both a copy of her email to the 
class and a defense of it. "I didn’t think that was so partisan—everyone knows 
it’s the House that is causing the trouble," the professor wrote, "although 
students probably don’t get much news."

The campus’s chancellor, Joe Gow, had also been getting emails about Ms. 
Slocum. The senders included Mr. Hollenberger of Media Trackers and Mike 
Mikalsen, an aide to State Rep. Stephen L. Nass, a Republican.

Representative Nass, the chairman of the Wisconsin Assembly’s Committee on 
Colleges and Universities, had a reputation for perennially looking for reasons 
to cut state spending on public colleges. His aide’s message characterized Ms. 
Slocum’s email as "clearly partisan in tone" and evidence of faculty members 
using state resources to advance political agendas. It said Mr. Nass wanted a 
response.

Media Trackers published a brief article that Wednesday, with the headline 
"Wisconsin Professor Politicizes Partial Shutdown." Ms. Slocum, the story said, 
was "using the partial government shutdown to wage a sort of campaign in the 
classroom against Republicans."

Kidded by friends over the attention received by her Twitter and Facebook 
posts, Ms. Johnson, who had been a member of the La Crosse campus student 
government and a reporter for its student newspaper,  tweeted again. "I feel 
like I am stirring up more trouble on campus now that I am physically 
off-campus!"

What had been just a problem for Rachel Slocum now clearly loomed a problem for 
her entire university, exposing the complexities of dealing with the potential 
pitfalls of online communication.

Like many colleges, La Crosse is struggling to reconcile longstanding 
principles such as academic freedom with the revolution in communication 
ushered in by the digital age.

Nothing in its handbook had clearly barred Ms. Slocum from sending her 
government-shutdown email, nothing in its student code barred Ms. Johnson from 
distributing that email far and wide, and nothing in its policies spelled out 
an obvious response to the furor the professor’s words had caused.

Ms. Berlin, the department chair, told Ms. Slocum that afternoon that 
Chancellor Gow knew about the email. She suggested the professor follow any 
advice given her by Bruce Riley, dean of the university’s College of Science 
and Health.

Chancellor Gow told Mr. Hollenberger of Media Trackers that Dean Riley had 
called Ms. Slocum about the note, "pointed out the inappropriateness of the 
politically partisan language, and obtained the professor’s commitment to 
writing a follow-up apology to the class." When Mr. Hollenberger asked for a 
copy of any apology note, Mr. Gow suggested he file an open-records request.

Ms. Slocum says she does not recall the dean asking her to apologize, though he 
did say her email could be seen as partisan. Personally, she regarded it as an 
accurate summary of news developments based on mainstream media coverage of 
Washington.

She sent a second email to her geography students late Wednesday afternoon. 
"The email I sent you all about the government shutdown was not meant to be 
partisan, but it may have come across that way," she wrote. Her email offered 
what it described as "a more thorough, less annoyed version of shutdown 
events," providing new details about what was happening in Washington. It 
reiterated her bottom-line conclusion: Tea Party Republicans had caused the 
shutdown.

She offered to create an online discussion board for the class to talk about 
the matter further. "But," she added, "please don’t forward my emails to 
conservative blogs or listservs."

Ms. Johnson couldn't resist.

"I felt like that was just inviting me to forward it to my friends," the 
student says. She passed the new email on to Mr. Hollenberger.

In the pre-dawn hours of Thursday, October 3, Ms. Slocum received an email 
requesting comment for an article by The College Fix, a national publication 
that grooms young writers for careers at conservative media outlets. She sent 
the reporter a copy of her second email with a request not to reprint it.

That day, Media Trackers published a new article citing the professor’s second 
email to her students. It quoted Chancellor Gow saying, "I share your concerns 
about the inappropriate use of the overly partisan phrase ‘Republican tea party 
controlled House of Representatives.’ "

The article revealed yet another way in which the digital age had exposed the 
professor to unexpected scrutiny: Mr. Hollenberger had combed through the blog 
she maintains for her online geography class. It linked, he said, "to liberal 
website after liberal website" and poked fun at Sarah Palin.

The weekend brought a lull in the media coverage, though not in the barrage of 
nasty emails. Ms. Slocum assumed the controversy would soon die down. "How 
interesting can this really be?" she recalls asking  herself.

Her answer came that Monday, with a new wave of attention.

The College Fix published an article in which an unnamed student—actually Katie 
Johnson—voiced concern about Ms. Slocum indoctrinating impressionable freshmen. 
Its comment field brimmed with outrage. One commenter offered up Ms. Slocum’s 
email address.

The Daily Caller, an online publication founded by Tucker Carlson, a 
conservative pundit, carried its own article: "Leftist geography professor at 
taxpayer-funded university rails at students over shutdown." Ms. Slocum, it 
said, had "used a required assignment in one of her courses to wage a campaign 
against Republicans." It was reprinted in Free Republic, a conservative online 
forum, and by Yahoo News.

Ms. Slocum received a new torrent of emails. "Grow up," one scolded. "You are 
what’s wrong with this country," said another. A third told her to blame the 
shutdown on her "stupid empty suit Muslim curious George president."

A colleague whom she later accused of acting out of malice mailed a link to the 
Yahoo News article throughout her geography department and to the graduate 
school of geography at Clark University, where Ms. Slocum had earned her 
doctorate in 2001.

Ms. Slocum, losing sleep from stress, ignored an interview request from a 
reporter for Fox News. She tweaked the privacy settings on her course-related 
blog to close it off to anyone not in her class.

Her chancellor received an ominous email that day from Mr. Hollenberger. "I 
have a feeling things are about to get much more busy for you on Rachel 
Slocum," it said.

He told the chancellor that people "are asking me if any discipline will be 
done to Slocum." He had filed an open-records request, he added, seeking Ms. 
Slocum’s contract, benefits information, and class schedule.

Katie Johnson tweeted: "Soooo some professors are reluctantly famous. I guess 
they’d better start watching what they email/post!"

Ms. Johnson herself became reluctantly famous the next morning. The Tuesday, 
October 8, edition of the La Crosse Tribune covered the controversy in an 
article identifying her as the student who first tweeted Ms. Slocum’s email.

"I would think the university would want to discourage that behavior," Ms. 
Slocum said in email that day to Mr. Riley, her dean.

The denunciations kept pouring into Ms. Slocum’s inbox, and she learned from 
her campus’s information-technology department that she was the subject of 
open-records requests from Media Trackers and from a local NBC affiliate, WEAU. 
The television station sought her emails using the terms "Republican, Tea 
Party, government, shutdown, apology, and website." Campus officials planned to 
offer up the documents.

The controversy had found Chancellor Gow in an especially sensitive position as 
a result of his own recent lesson on the dangers of digital-age communications.

About a month earlier, he had become the target of outrage by religious 
conservatives. Someone had forwarded an email to the campus’s employees in 
which the chancellor expressed concern that his public institution had appeared 
to endorse a religion by allowing students to construct a September 11th 
memorial in the shape of a cross.

The new furor over Ms. Slocum’s email had donors threatening to withhold money 
and parents announcing plans to enroll their sons and daughters elsewhere. 
Later, in an email to a La Crosse faculty member, Chancellor Gow would say he 
felt a need to distance himself from Ms. Slocum’s "needlessly partisan" 
comments because they threatened his efforts to persuade the university 
system’s regents, state lawmakers,  and the public to give his university money 
to increase employee salaries.

At the close of the business day, he sent a message to his institution’s 
students, staff, and faculty members in which he apologized to anyone offended 
by Ms. Slocum’s "highly partisan political reference." The reference did not 
deserve the protections of academic freedom, he argued, because it added 
nothing to the educational experience of her students and might have caused 
discomfort for people with different views.

"We will continue to do all we can," he said, "to ensure that a similarly 
inappropriate reference does not occur in the future."

With Ms. Slocum’s prospects of long-term employment La Crosse already gone 
because of her tenure denial, she had wondered what more her university could 
do to her. Now she had her answer. The chancellor’s public rebuke, she says, 
left her "utterly mortified." She wondered: How could she face her students?

Some of her peers came to her defense. Donna M. Anderson, a professor of 
economics and women’s studies at La Crosse, accused Chancellor Gow of throwing 
Ms. Slocum under the bus to save his own reputation.

"You had no right to send your email: There is a process," she told him in an 
email. There is nothing inappropriate about a professor offering her political 
views to students, she said, and she told the chancellor he should have 
expressed any concerns to Ms. Slocum privately.

Chancellor Gow, noting that Ms. Anderson had copied several other professors on 
their back-and-forth, wrote, "I’m not sure what is private or public on the 
Internet."

In the following days, Chancellor Gow agreed to let Ms. Slocum respond to his 
email with an open letter sent out to the university community. In it, she 
defended her initial email on the government shutdown as an accurate summary of 
events, and described politics as an appropriate subject to discuss in a 
geography course. She argued that students need to have their views challenged 
and protested that the chancellor had undermined her as an instructor and left 
her fearful to communicate with students online.

"Chancellor Gow’s email is a signal to students that the university approves of 
their efforts to publicly shame professors with whom they disagree," she wrote.

Chancellor Gow’s handling of the controversy also came under fire from the 
Foundation for Individual Rights in Education, a free-speech advocacy group, 
and in emails and public statements from faculty members at the La Crosse 
campus.

In a new email to the campus’s faculty and students, sent October 13, the 
chancellor argued that his actions were in keeping with decades-old guidelines 
from the American Association of University Professors that say faculty members 
should avoid bringing up controversial topics having nothing to do with what 
they teach.

With trust between Ms. Slocum and Ms. Johnson having been severely damaged, 
administrators gave the student the option of continuing to take the class as 
an independent study or being graded by another instructor. Because she already 
had enough credits, Ms. Johnson chose to drop the class. She graduated in 
December, after the controversy over the email had subsided.

Ms. Slocum says she remains worried that her high-profile rebuke by the 
campus’s administration has hurt her prospects of getting a new tenure-track 
position. Asked if she has focused her search on colleges she perceives as more 
protective of faculty speech rights, she says, "I don’t think I can be picky 
because it is really difficult to get jobs these days."

Mr. Gow says Ms. Slocum is being "very overdramatic" in saying he publicly 
shamed her.

"If," he says, "faculty and staff are going to have the freedom to say what 
they want to say, then the administration should also have the freedom to 
comment publicly on that."

Ms. Johnson has a new internship, handling new media for Americans for 
Prosperity, a free-market-oriented advocacy group [read: rightwing group].

Looking back on the episode, she says she regrets that Ms. Slocum became the 
target of uncivil attacks. Talking directly to her professor probably would 
have been a better course of action, she now says, than  creating a public 
controversy.

Nevertheless, she says she is glad she might have inspired friends "to be more 
bold if they see political bias."

She also takes comfort, she says, in knowing professors have been made "more 
aware of political speech and what they shouldn’t say."

































----------------------------------
s. e. anderson
author of The Black Holocaust for Beginners
www.blackeducator.org
www.blackeducator.blogspot.com
If WORK was good for you, the rich would leave none for the poor. (Haiti) 
--------------------------------------------




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