When she was so moved by a piece of literature—and she was so moved often—Mrs. Jarzab would pause her reading to solemnly note: “Power corrupts; absolute power corrupts absolutely.”

She was our dour, ironic 7th grade humanities teacher, and she did not suffer fools. She put a stop to bullshit and horseplay with trademark disdain and her icy glare. Smart contributions she rewarded with her solemn nod; especially intelligent comments merited her tight-lipped smile. She was a hard-ass whom we didn’t know whether to love or fear, and whose approval we craved.

She drew the same lesson from Lear, or The Good Earth, or Our Town, and she would prompt us: “Power corrupts; absolute power corrupts…”

We would dutifully shout back, “ABSOLUTELY.”

Mrs. Jarzab made skeptics of us, even if in part by leading us in repeating her dictum in unison. We were kids, after all. She may well have been a tyrant, but she didn’t wield absolute power. If a student managed to prove her wrong, she acknowledged and was proud of it.

Fortunately, no one—not even Lee C. Bollinger—holds absolute power over this balkanized University. Accordingly, Volume XIX Number II of The Blue and White features campus power brokers large and small.

Both of our Campus Characters—Sarah Darville, editor in chief of the Spectator, and Sam Warren, captain of the women’s crew—ruled over prominent student groups (p. 8). Naomi Cohen and Claire Heyison examine the tenure committees that hold the academic power of life and death, shedding light on the departure of one esteemed Barnard professor (p. 13). Daniel Stone recalls Papa Nubling, whose gentle jibes chastened John Jay residents’ misbehavior in the early 20th century (p. 20). Zach Hendrickson tells about the ten percent of your classmates blessed with perks you didn’t know existed, and how they were chosen (p. 32). And, as always, Campus Gossip helps the medicine go down (p. 43).

— Conor Skelding