Jordan Leaves Gallaudet With Painful Goodbye
Former President's Legacy May Not Reflect His Tenure
I. King Jordan gives his inaugural address at Gallaudet University. He took the university's helm in 1988 after students demanded a deaf president.
(By Lucian Perkins -- The Washington Post)
Discussion Policy
Comments that include profanity or personal attacks or other inappropriate comments or material will be removed from the site. Additionally, entries that are unsigned or contain "signatures" by someone other than the actual author will be removed. Finally, we will take steps to block users who violate any of our posting standards, terms of use or privacy policies or any other policies governing this site. Please review the full rules governing commentaries and discussions. You are fully responsible for the content that you post.
|
Monday, January 8, 2007
When I. King Jordan announced in fall 2005 to a hushed and expectant crowd at Gallaudet University that he would step down as president of the school for the deaf, people gasped. Many burst into tears. Dozens stood in line to thank him or to sign "I love you."
That was then.
In the past year, he has faced an onslaught of protests over his support for an unpopular would-be successor, including effigies, a faculty no-confidence vote, insults and accusations, some lingering bitterly through the end of his term Dec. 31.
At Gallaudet, for going on two decades, Jordan's presidency inspired an intensity of feeling hard to imagine on any other campus. He came in as a hero, a charismatic spokesman who told the world, deaf and hearing, how much was attainable.
It has been a painful goodbye.
Jordan has said many times that the school changed his life, starting when he was a young man stricken deaf in a motorcycle accident who found an education, hope and purpose at Gallaudet. How he changed the private university as its leader is still up for debate.
Nearly everyone agrees that he beautified the historic campus in Northeast Washington, raised its profile and strengthened its relations with Congress. But in a wrenching final year, critics harshly questioned everything from race relations to academic integrity to the school's relevance.
Robert Davila, who began as interim president this week, takes on a troubled university.
Time will tell whether the controversy that flared up over Jordan's potential successor is soon forgotten or remains to redefine his legacy. One thing is certain: His tenure ended as explosively as it began.
A Powerful Symbol
Jordan rode in on a protest. In 1988, students were outraged that once again a hearing person had been chosen to lead Gallaudet. They demanded a "deaf president now," shutting down the campus, marching through the streets of Washington -- and they won.
Jordan immediately became a powerful symbol for a culture that wanted equal rights, not paternalism. Books such as "The Week the World Heard Gallaudet" were written. He was inundated with media and public speaking requests. And Jordan, who has a politician's ease in crowds and a ready laugh, was just the person to be spokesman.
"If anybody took advantage of a PR opportunity, it was King," trustee Ken Levinson said.



