The closure of the Rose Art Museum and the subsequent liquidation of pieces in its collection epitomize the University's pillars of academic excellence and social justice. The faculty and students of this University are valued above its buildings and its property, especially those that are luxuries.There was an utter lack of transparency on behalf of the Board of Trustees and the administration during this decision-making process, and for that both governing bodies deserve the harshest of criticism, but the ultimate decision was admirable. I did not hastily nor easily arrive at this conclusion. At first I was rather conflicted about it, but now I'm fully behind the dual decision to close the Rose and sell some art.

Closing the Rose is not, as one student suggested at the student-run sit-in at the museum this past Thursday, comparable to closing the University library.

And the University is not signaling abandonment of the fine arts, either. As Ingrid Schorr, program administrator to the Office of the Arts, wisely told students, "Maybe the fancy dining room is closing. But the kitchen is still open."

The University thrived in its 13 maiden years without the Rose. It's unreasonable to conclude that the University cannot continue to flourish independently of its Rose, as it once did.

To gain a more comprehensive perspective on the situation, it's important to look back at this University in the year that the Rose project was completed and opened to the public for the first time.

The front cover of the Oct. 24, 1961 issue of the Justice features what I initially considered to be a shocking editorial. Its title, "A Question of Values," lies just above a picture of the newly constructed Rose.

"This is the Rose Art Museum," the editorial begins. "It was built upon receipt of a donation of $250,000 by Mr. and Mrs. Edward Rose of Boston. For the same price, Brandeis University could have had nine fully endowed perpetual tuition scholarships, . two hundred one-year full tuition scholarships, . twenty-five students could have received complete college educations, ... and for the same price Brandeis could have had one fully endowed professorial chair, or about twenty different visiting professors for a year apiece."

That editorial acknowledges that the donation was given for that specific purpose alone. It then concludes by questioning "the system of values" that says "that bigger and better buildings are more important than such considerations as faculty salaries, student scholarships, and additional professors."

Former Justice editor in chief Stephen Slaner '64 said in an interview with the Justice that during his time at the University, some students "disparagingly referred to it as the 'Rose Art Supermarket.'" And some considered then-University President Abram Sachar to have "an edifice complex."

The following issue of the Justice, published Oct. 31, includes another, longer editorial, which expands upon that initial sentiment of misplaced priorities. The editorial board, in the second editorial, points out that the Rose "was a worthwhile addition to the University, and a facility which could be used to good advantage." However, "there must be certain priorities when it comes to fundraising."

Students staffing the Justice that year covered stories like the brutal assault by white men on Brandeis student Paul Potter and friend Tom Hayden, who were trying to register black citizens to vote in McComb, Miss. The editorial board took strong stances against topics such as the expansion of nuclear power. The editor in chief the year that the Rose was opened, Stephen Solarz '62, went on to serve in the United States House of Representatives for 18 years. These people were true activists.

An additional issue for those students in 1961 regarding the Rose rested with Sachar's inherent contradiction from 1953, when he stated that, "Once the 'must' buildings are up we will concentrate specifically on securing funds for scholarships and faculty salaries."

The Rose was not a "must" building in 1961. And it's not a "must" building in 2009.

Today we are privileged to attend a University that grants full financial aid to those in need and provides its faculty with significantly improved salaries from those of the 1960s. The exact issues that inspired students to criticize unneeded buildings on campus in 1961 have subsided. But the sentiment behind that criticism has not.

The editorial from Oct. 24, 1961 concludes by noting that "it is, after all, upon the quality of the people who are associated with the University that its worth is determined." This has not changed.

Another former Justice editor in chief, Martin Wiener '62, who currently chairs the History department at Rice University, told the Justice that that "My own feeling as an alum is admiration for the guts of the Board [of Trustees] and president, who faced a tough situation and made the right decision, though all the art world may be up in arms."

During a time when faculty salary quality, job security and student academic opportunity are threatened by a University financial crisis, we must not hesitate to part with our luxuries in order to save our fundamentals.

If the original donors consent and all proper legal procedures are followed, then the University should ignore the outcries from the art community and go ahead with the monetization of some of its art-even if the selling market isn't ideal. The absence of an art museum and some of the artwork housed in this University is upsetting. But that will allow us to preserve the most integral parts of the University: its faculty and its students.

And if that is not in the best interest of social justice and academic excellence, then I cannot imagine what is.