My graduate school mentor, Marilyn Gittell, passed away last Thursday night. Toni called me on Friday afternoon to give me the news, and I spent most of Friday crying.
I first met Marilyn in the fall of 1993 in her State and Local politics class. I signed up for Marilyn's class somewhat opportunistically. Another professor had
told me jealously that "Marilyn had all the money," and I
needed funding, since our school provided none. By the following semester, I was an employee of hers at the Howard Samuel State Political and Management Center, along with ten or twelve other graduate students. We conducted research for the Ford Foundation, CUNY, and other foundations.
I worked at the Samuels Center for six years doing research on the implementation of bureaucratic reforms in city government, the role of community organization in education reform, and dropout rates in higher education. Marilyn showed me how to conduct interviews and how to present findings. Still, a raw grad student, she pushed me in front of panels at the Ford Foundation to give presentations. I organized conferences. I wrote reports. I wrote academic papers with her and got a few published. I traveled around the country and went to tough neighborhoods to talk to community leaders in Chicago, Philadelphia, and Texas.
In addition to giving me these practical skills, Marilyn shaped my political and academic interests. Much of what I write about now came out of my time with Marilyn. Marilyn was interested in education policy. She firmly believed that educational inequity was one of the root causes of the continuing inequity in this country. She also believed that that increasing parental and community involvement in schools was key. She was one of the architects of the ill-fated New York City's school decentralization reform in the 1960s.
She believed in participation, diversity, feminism, and equality. She loved cities, single mothers, disadvantaged groups. She loved research with a political purpose. She saw herself as a scholar-activist.
She also loved a good meal and took us to many a fine restaurant during our Christmas office parties and on our travels. She loved her family and merged them into our lives. She brought her rag-tag group of students to her home on Sag Harbor for July 4th celebrations, and her whole family was there. I gave her grandchildren piggy back rides around the office.
She was a tough person to work for. She was often impatient and rushed, so I would plan out meetings ahead of time. I had to get to the point very, very quickly, or she would yell at me for boring her. She would criticize us to our faces and compliment us when talking to others. I still worry whether or not Marilyn is pleased with me. The line between mentor and mother was fuzzy.
Marilyn left a huge imprint on myself and hundreds of other students both personally and professionally.
Apt. 11d 