FROM THE DESK OF JOHN HIBBS

PROUD TO BE A DUCK

by John W. Hibbs

At NAWeb 2002, hosted by the University of New Brunswick in Fredericton, I had an opportunity to give a keynote presentation which addressed some of the crucial questions that face those in the business of e-learning. Once more, again, I would like to thank the Chair of that conference, Rik Hall, for asking me to share my thoughts with his attendees. It was a proud moment and one which I shall cherish for a good long time.

Part of that presentation caused me to comment on the importance of the alumni to the university. And those thoughts, in turn, made me think a little more deeply about the University of Oregon, where I was graduated, class of '64. As the years have passed - now approaching four full decades - my love for Oregon increases. Nothing unusual in that. College is a unique experience. Few leave it without wonderful memories deeply treasured.

What is unique about Oregon, and what triggered some of my comments in the keynote, is Oregon's mascot...a Duck. Also known as a Web-Foot. It's an animal quite different than that chosen by our competitors in the Pac Ten.

Up and down the Pacific Coast those other universities have Bears and Beavers, Trojans and Huskies, Cougars, Wildcats and Sun Devils -- all of them muscled and fearless, toothy, tough and tenacious. On the field of play, what chance is there for a mere Duck? In the game of campus image - so important for athletic recruiting and student registration - how can a web footed quacker compare to a great white stallion under the reins of an armored, sword-waving Trojan? Or a cougar in a tree? Or a bear on the prowl?

Here's how.

At Oregon, the Duck message is simple - and lofty:

Come to Oregon and Spread Your Wings

It's a great message and a great concept --- one worthy of further contemplation; and proud salute. Here's why.

One can learn a lot from the study of ducks. The first thing one learns is there's about a gazillion varieties, every single one very different from every other one. The more you look at their faces, or their feathers, or the way they wiggle their tails, or stick their bills in the water, or splash in a pond, or zip to it, the more you appreciate the range of their diversity.

Which university doesn't pride itself for diversity? Which university doesn't encourage individuality? What better example for a campus than a bunch of ducks happily sharing the same pond -- but without one inch of surrender to its own special character? Now in the smarts category let's compare ducks to those other toothy creatures from schools in California, Washington and Arizona. Where the Bears the Beavers and the Cougars are resigned to adapting to cold winter or hot summer, and while the Dawgs are chained to the whip of their Seattle sled masters, our Oregon Duck is free to get up and GO.

All they have to do is spread their wings.

It's the chief lesson to which all free thinking intellectuals should aspire; for ducks it comes automatically, at birth.

There's more.

It's no good spreading your wings if you don't know how to navigate. Nobody's quite figured out how they do it, but there isn't a sailor alive who wouldn't like to have a GPS half as accurate as what those birds have built into their steering mechanism. Even for Einstein, Galileo and Copernicus, this was a mysteriously complex problem. So far, one without solution. But for ducks, it's all first grade simple.

Skillful navigation is well worth some very loud quacking.

Today all the talk is about the need to collaborate, made easy in a world all wired by the Net. With a duck, that's no big deal. For longer than man has walked upright, ducks have been beautifully, magically, winging together. They make intercontinental flights to prime destinations while perfectly content to share leadership positions and lookout responsibility.

You tell me a lesson more valuable than that one?

Well -- maybe there's is one -- and, maybe, it is this:

Even when a duck poops on your lawn or irritates you with their loud duck lips, you never get seriously mad at them. Sure. They walk funny and they talk funny and they look kinda silly drifting around on the water. But when they spread their wings, and take to the flyways, you know they are special. And so you wish them God speed. And hope they come back.

What could possibly be more important than that?

GO DUCKS!