Off the 'Cliffe And Into Harvard's Net

After a year of meetings, alumnae protests, media scrutiny and competing plans for the future, Cambridge's longest tango came to an end when Harvard and Radcliffe announced their intent to merge.

In a press conference at Radcliffe's Fay House on April 20, officials from both institutions revealed that Radcliffe would relinquish its "college" status sometime this summer to become the Radcliffe Institute for Advanced Study, a division of the University on par with the nine faculties.

"This really is the fulfillment of more than 120 years of a journey that Harvard and Radcliffe undertook together, but separately," said Harvard President Neil L. Rudenstine.

The Institute will combine Radcliffe's current educational and research programs with a new cadre of visiting scholars whose work will focus on a wide range of topics, including gender issues.

But it is unclear what the merger will mean for Harvard's undergraduate women. The Institute will not take a formal role in undergraduate education, and Harvard College will assume full responsibility for female students. The future of the undergraduate programs Radcliffe currently operate is unclear, and will likely remain so even after the legal merger is signed, sometime this summer.

In exchange for the title to Radcliffe's 20 acres of prime Cambridge real estate, Harvard will make a "contribution" of $150 million to Radcliffe's existing resources, thus forming a $350 million endowment for the Institute.

Harvard College will formally take over the Radcliffe Quadrangle, where it will continue to house undergraduate students. But the Institute will eventually gain full occupation rights of Byerly and Agassiz Halls, buildings the College currently uses as an admissions office and a performance space, respectively.

Sources say lawyers are working to meet a target date of June 30 for signing the full agreement, the same day Radcliffe President Linda S. Wilson will step down as Radcliffe's seventh and final president.

The makeover of the prominent women's college drew headlines nationwide. Some alumnae and current students said they would mourn the loss of their alma mater. But most said they were just glad the wait was over--and are excited about Radcliffe's new incarnation.

"I feel it's a great opportunity if Harvard is willing to take very seriously the mission and history that Radcliffe has represented in terms of advancing women in society," Lissa Muscatine '76 said the day after the announcement.

When the merger deal was made public, Radcliffe officials conceded the possibility that furious alumnae would retract gifts made to the college.

Instead, Radcliffe was able to point to $6.5 million in new gifts made in the three weeks after the announcement as proof that alumnae were on board.

But some alumnae criticized the lack of openness that had shrouded the merger process since its inception two years ago.

"None of us seem to understand why secrecy was essential," said Cecily C. Selby '46, who was a member of the Radcliffe Board of Trustees in the late 1970s. "I'll be loyal forever, but it'll be easier to be loyal now that there are no secrets."

The first public hint that Harvard and Radcliffe were in merger talks came in April 1998, when The Boston Globe reported that Radcliffe's "death" was nigh. Although Wilson and Chairman of the Radcliffe Board of Trustees Nancy-Beth G. Sheerr '71 had little comment, the revelation led to a flurry of media attention and a student rally to "save" Radcliffe.

Alums clamored for details, leading Wilson to embark on a month-long, 10-city whirlwind tour in October to visit Radcliffe graduates nationwide and hear their suggestions for the future. During the sparsely attended gatherings, Wilson offered little information regarding Radcliffe's internal talks.

"People were delighted [she] came; however, this is a very empirical crowd," said Judith A. Dollenmayer '63, who attended the Washington, D.C. tour stop. "They want to know the who, what, where, when and how."

As the months dragged on and the answers remained few, however, the fervor was replaced by malaise. Between June 1998 and February of this year, five top Radcliffe officials left the college. When Radcliffe advertised some of their posts as "interim," many saw an institution uncertain about its future form.

Radcliffe observers offered the college's Board of Trustees several formal proposals. A plan put forward by three alumnae leaders called for an activist Radcliffe Center, the focal point for all women's programming on campus. Another plan, by five female members of the Faculty, would have created an Institute devoted specifically to the study of women and gender. Undergraduates, meanwhile, clamored and still agitate for a "women's center" to offer services they felt neither Harvard nor Radcliffe were currently giving them.

The new Institute closely resembles the Faculty plan, but with some key differences. For instance, the Faculty plan called for moving the Women's Studies program in the Faculty of Arts and Sciences to Radcliffe Yard and funding new professorships in the committee.

The Institute, though, will have no ties to the Women's Studies program. In fact, the study of gender will be subordinate to a much broader focus on "the academic disciplines, professions and the creative arts"--in short, everything.

Dean of the Faculty Jeremy R. Knowles said Faculty members will be involved in the shaping of the institute's academic focus. But student leaders of some women's groups are more wary of how the deal will affect them.

Last month, the Radcliffe Union of Students (RUS) convened an "emergency" meeting to make sure that their group, which is funded by an extra term-bill fee imposed on female undergraduates, will survive the end of Radcliffe College.

They are also concerned that Title IX law and entrenched College policy prohibit programs like Radcliffe's externships and mentorships from being open to women only.

RUS leaders plan to petition Harvard administrators over the summer to make sure their demands do not go unheard.

"We can try to play our own form of hardball with them," said Amy L. Beck '00.