My “sabbatical” in Amherst was magnificent, certainly in retrospect if not, at particular moments, while living it. Normally, a sabbatical is only one year, the seventh, when one rests from labor, a remembrance of the time when the Israelites allowed their fields to lay fallow, when the land was returned to God, and forgiveness abounded. However, my sabbatical consisted of the entire seven years when we resided in Massachusetts, and I experienced a truly academic life, albeit not one of being a faculty member and professing a scholarly discipline. Many professors would maintain that administration is not an acceptable option; it is to be endured as a required, temporary duty when called upon to be a chairman or head of a department. A year-long faculty sabbatical is a time of renewal. My seven years were a time of pleasure. I miss them. I am thankful to have experienced them.
I enjoyed being “Dean Camerino.” I enjoyed being an administrator who helped faculty accomplish the research they desired to do, by providing modest funds, directly, or information about how to receive them in more meaningful amounts. I would have preferred to have had more direct relations with students, both undergraduates and graduate fellows, but the close friendships I developed with faculty compensated for those I did not have with younger scholars.
While at Baylor College of Medicine, I was never completely sure of what the expectations held for me by other administrators and the faculty might be. Neither Dr. Butler, the BCM President to whom I originally reported, nor Dr. Alford, the Dean of the College, who became my immediate supervisor, ever had a conversation with me about what I was expected to do as I reviewed faculty appointments or signed off on research applications submitted to external sources. Dr. Tony Gotto, chair of the Department of Medicine, for whom I performed, on his behalf, the day-to-day administration of the department never indicated what he really wanted me to do. He, did, however, authorize substantial, annual increases in my salary. For some, these may have been ideal roles: to do whatever I wanted to do without any instruction on what or how I was to do it. However, I missed the collegiality of Umass where discussion occurred before I did what I thought I should be doing, until Warren Gulko came along.
If only the politics of academe did not exist, university life would be perfect. A time for engaging in conversations that mattered, undertaken for pleasure, rather than for a mere exchange of information. I miss the discussion of ideas and the exploration of culture: plays, dance, and the fine arts. These topics are preferable to the current issues of my retirement years, which seem to involve gossip and “organ recitals of the elderly!” I prefer a lunch in the Umass Faculty Club to one in the student dining hall or in my office, the usual sites for those in my days at Baylor Med. My friends and acquaintances in New England were closer and more numerous than those I found later in life.
I also enjoyed, and miss, the “ambience” of Amherst: its campus clothed in autumn foliage or winter snows, breathtaking whenever I took the opportunity to gaze at them and really breath them in! The quiet paths, except on the hour when they were filled by students moving to their next classes, were enjoyable ways to move quietly from one building, ivy-covered or glass-plated concrete, to another during midday or twilight.
Life in a medical school in a large city is not the same, not as “charming.” There is no downline for pondering the day, when confined to hallways joining one building to another, even if they are air-conditioned. A walk downtown to the post-office or an aged grocery store is more satisfying than a drive to the local Kroger’s. There is nothing enjoyable about an hour-commute by car, or a ninety-minute one by public transportation, with the smell of the nail-polish remover in use by the woman sitting next to you or with the sound of anyone across the aisle with a cellphone.
I was in love with our home on Sheerman Lane and the landscape both at a distance and the one I had created in my own backyard. When I had to leave them, I made a decision not to become as attached to my physical surroundings in my new life as I had been in Amherst. At the time, I thought we would be in Houston for the usual five to seven years, before moving on. I did not want to hurt the same way, again, by becoming overly enamored of the place where I resided. I never would have believed that we would live in Texas for almost a half-century!
I enjoy the history and culture of New England to that of the Gulf Coast of Texas. There are interesting encounters here, but I still have not adapted to the conservative-progress of this, formerly independent, Republic. I am better in tune with those of a Commonwealth. A bay-state is more comfortable, for me, than is a gulf-state. Both a nor eastern and a hurricane exhibit devastating winds, but the rolling hills and mountain ranges do have an attraction that open skies and bayous lack.
If funds were unlimited, the best-of-both worlds would be my desire. What could be better than a winter and spring in Houston and summer and autumn in Amherst? Where should I spend my next sabbatical? However, it’s unlikely I’ll ever have another.