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THE University of Virginia's charter—if that term can be used in this context—is a report of a planning conference convened by Thomas Jefferson in the summer of 1818. The group met for four days at Rockfish Gap, a break in the Blue Ridge Mountains through or over which one still passes en route to Charlottesville from the west or north. Jefferson had called the meeting, we are told, essentially to persuade the others in attendance of the wisdom of his already fairly well formed views on the institution he hoped someday to found. He had clearly in mind a true university, not simply a divinity school or a technical or trade school. Basic to his plan were the languages. In fact, the subjects he listed first were the ancient languages (Hebrew, Latin, and Greek), followed by the modern languages (French, Spanish, Italian, German, and—almost as an afterthought—Anglo-Saxon).
One key paragraph of the “charter” best describes the import of his plan for the university; it deserves reading in full.
The considerations which have governed the specification of languages to be taught by the professor of modern languages were, that the French is the language of general intercourse among nations, and as a depository of human science, is unsurpassed by any other language, living or dead. Spanish is highly interesting to us as the language spoken by so great a portion of the inhabitants of our continents, with whom we shall probably have great intercourse ere long, and is that also in which is written the greater part of the early history of America. The Italian abounds with works of very superior order, valuable for the matter, and still more distinguished as models of the finest taste in style and composition. And the German now stands in line with that of the most learned nations in richness of erudition and advance in the sciences. It is, too, of common descent with the language of our own country, a branch of the same original Gothic stock, and furnishes valuable illustrations for us. (qtd. in Adams 92)
Then follows a discourse on the social value of learning one's own language. Jefferson's commitment is superbly evidenced by his own words in this document.
Happily, I can report that we have adhered faithfully to the Jeffersonian precepts. Today we teach not only the four languages to which he drew the attention of the other founders; we offer in addition a wide range of languages from other parts of the world—some of which were known in his day but would not have appeared on his list and others that simply did not exist at the time or at least had not been discovered and appreciated by Western scholars. The foreign language departments that today form a major part of the University of Virginia are in every sense Jefferson's legacy.
In fact, the Jeffersonian model was not so easily implemented as its designer would have hoped. The first faculty members he lured from abroad proved less than popular with an essentially frontier student body. Even during the last year of his life, the first that the university was in full operation, he was deeply grieved by a series of protests—fairly turbulent even by modern standards—aimed at the allegedly alien influence of the charter faculty. While students eventually came to terms with faculty members from other lands, conditions were less than hospitable for some time. In this respect at least, Jefferson's vision for his new university may have proved a bit too ambitious. Also unduly ambitious was his hope that students would be learned in all the languages he listed; by 1832,
it was concluded that the subjects of the School of Modern Languages were too numerous to require that graduation in all should be necessary for a diploma. The course was, during this year, divided into two classes; the Romance and the Teutonic. There were, in the instance of each, a junior and a senior year. The literatures of all the four nations embraced were the topics of triweekly lectures. … The members of each class were furthermore permitted to receive private instruction in any one, or in all of the tongues taught in the school, on condition that it should be given by a native Frenchman or Italian, Spaniard, or German, who was willing to be governed by the rules laid down for him by the Faculty. (Bruce 91—92)
The university's early years thus show a curious ambivalence toward foreign teachers—initially resisted by the students and later embraced by the faculty as supplementing the regular language instruction. I am struck by how far we have traveled since that time. Our hospitality to foreign visitors to the university grounds is in fact quite remarkable. During a relatively brief period last summer and early fall, we had here the president of the French National Assembly, the ambassador of the People's Republic of China, the chief justice and other members of the Italian Constitutional Court, and delegates from all four of the German-speaking nations for the dedication of our Max Kade House. I have never been at any other university that would be likely to welcome as distinguished a group of foreign visitors in such a short period.
Yet, we recognize that more need be done to achieve the Jeffersonian vision of the truly international university. It is for that reason that we have created the position of dean of international studies. In that new office, which we hope soon to fill, we will bring together responsibility for foreign students and visitors, exchange programs, overseas study programs, and the coordination of our international area studies programs. We will also, through the appointment of such a dean, provide for the first time a single voice for international studies in the university's highest councils. By the end of the decade, we hope, these steps and several others now under way will have moved us considerably further along the path that Jefferson charted during those four days at Rockfish Gap.
Let me conclude with a few remarks about the future of international studies and foreign languages. I offer several thoughts, arranged in no special or logical order, about areas in which we might strengthen our activities.
First, I would emphasize the cooperative development of library collections. Latin American librarians have successfully pooled their efforts, but much needs to be done in other areas. Despite new library technologies, there is needless duplication—and I would cite as a prime example the parallel efforts of the On-line Computer Library Center and the Research Libraries Group to develop Chinese-Japanese-Korean bibliographic systems. Let us hope that the further development of systems in non-Western languages will be more collaborative and that RLG, by assigning primary collection responsibility, will facilitate the sharing of materials in other languages.
Second, I would suggest that foreign language departments become increasingly receptive to overtures from other parts of every university. While there has been little or no resistance to working with music departments in, for example, operatic instruction, the same cannot always be said about overtures from business schools for new programs in international business. Perhaps my view may seem overly eclectic or even opportunistic, but I would be willing to collaborate freely with any other part of the university that shows a genuine desire to study and understand another language.
Third, I would urge closer integration of overseas study programs and on-campus instruction—not, of course, to limit the foreign experience to language majors but, rather, to find new and imaginative ways of blending the preparation of students and their options after their return with the regular offerings in the language and literature of the country in which they study.
Fourth, I would seek more inventive ways of employing the foreign students in our midst—not only as language instructors but also as participants in our institutions' varied international enterprises. I hesitate to suggest ways beyond those available through international houses and the like, but it does seem to me that we miss opportunities to make better use of the invaluable international resource that such visitors offer us.
Fifth, I believe we could be more vigorous in seeking corporate support for foreign language programs. I note with interest a major emphasis on federal and foundation support, but I would expect more recognition of the stake that multinational companies have in maintaining and improving the foreign language instruction at our colleges and universities.
Sixth, I believe organizations such as ADFL can do more to publicize both the good and the bad news in language teaching and study. At least it should be clear that people eagerly read about American emissaries' faux pas when dealing with an unfamiliar language—witness Secretary McNamara's embarrassment in Vietnam and President Carter's debacle in Warsaw, following his triumph in Mexico. There is keen popular interest in the subject of foreign languages and international communication, even among those who know not a single word of another tongue, and it seems to me we should capitalize on that interest.
Finally, I would urge a greater involvement of language departments in the current debate about the undergraduate curriculum. I have seen that debate on the boards of the Carnegie Foundation for the Advancement of Teaching, the Association of American Colleges, and the Educational Testing Service, as well as in other ways, and I am increasingly struck by a sense of opportunity missed when more is not said about the role of languages.
This comment brings me to what I hope is a natural and logical conclusion. If any group can enhance appreciation and understanding of the role of foreign languages in our educational system and our society, it is the ADFL. Thomas Jefferson would indeed be pleased to see such an effort in his “academical village.”
The author is President of the University of Virginia. This article is adapted from the keynote address delivered at the ADFL Seminar East, 4–6 June1987, in Charlottesville, Virginia.
Adams, Herbert B. Thomas Jefferson and the University of Virginia. Washington: GPO, 1888. Vol. 2 of Contributions to Educational History. Ed. Herbert B. Adams.
Bruce, Philip Alexander. History of the University of Virginia , 1818–1919. Vol. 2. New York: Macmillan, 1920.5 vols.
© 1988 by the Association of Departments of Foreign Languages. All Rights Reserved.
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