
What began as one Fordham University professor’s personal reflection on an uncelebrated 80th birthday has grown into a wider conversation about institutional memory, academic labor, economic pressure, and the human cost of increasingly corporate university culture.
In a Facebook post dated May 21, 2026, longtime Fordham professor Dr. Mark Naison reflected on what he described as the painful contrast between the loving celebration he received from his family and the silence he experienced from Fordham University after 55 years of teaching.
“The contrast between what my family has done to celebrate my 80th birthday — buying me a new car and treating me to three days on the Pebble Beach Golf Course — and what Fordham as an institution has done, which is nothing, has been a big wake-up call for me,” Naison wrote.
His post was not simply a complaint about a missed birthday tribute. It became a pointed critique of what he called the “corporate university,” where long service, mentorship, loyalty, and devotion are not always publicly valued.
“After completing 55 years of teaching at the university, I would have expected some recognition of the occasion from an official body at the school. But none has been forthcoming,” he wrote.
Naison added that the silence from the institution came alongside another disappointment: the difficulty of getting students, former students, and colleagues to make small donations to the research project he directs, so that his successor can begin with support.
“If I loved my job less, this would force me into retirement,” he wrote. “But I am not going anywhere so long as the job gives me a platform to teach, do research and comment on the issues of the day.”
His strongest line captured the emotional center of the post: “Fordham is not my family.”
He described the university as “an educational corporation becoming more impersonal every day,” but also made clear that he still has work to do, students to inspire, and a legacy to build.
The public responses to Naison’s reflection suggest that his post touched a deeper nerve. Several commenters did not treat the matter as a private grievance, but as evidence of a broader social pattern in which workers, educators, and mentors feel increasingly unseen by large institutions.
Alec Shantzis responded by affirming Naison’s impact while connecting the issue to the depersonalization of modern work.
“I certainly celebrate you and I brag about you and tell people about things I have learned from you,” Shantzis wrote.
He argued that corporate greed and short-sightedness have produced a culture where people are overworked and undervalued, whether in fast-food drive-throughs, schools, or universities.
“Our humanity is not valued by large corporations or institutions,” he wrote, adding that his own experience in public education showed how digital paperwork and administrative demands increasingly drain teachers without benefiting students.
Another former student, Colleen Moira, apologized that Naison had not been honored as he deserved, but also offered a restorative explanation for why many former students may not have contributed financially to the Bronx African American History Project, known as BAAHP.
“I think that for me and other past students the lack of financial support is not a reflection on our love of you or the project but more the state of student loan debt, economic downturns and lousy job prospects plus surging inflation,” she wrote.
Moira, now a practicing attorney, said her financial limitations should not be mistaken for lack of gratitude. She said former students continue to honor Naison’s legacy through memory, community work, and spreading the word, even when they cannot always give financially.
“Happy birthday and happy work anniversary! Thank you for being you and working hard for all of us,” she added.
Tracey Wood Mendelssohn, who said she was not a former student or colleague, also responded by making a modest donation to BAAHP in Naison’s honor. She said she had learned from him simply by being connected to him online and remembered once being welcomed into his home for a gathering focused on an urgent public issue.
“I know 55 years is no joke. Nor is 80,” she wrote. “So congratulations on both milestones and have a blast on your golf vacation!”
Robert Robinson placed Naison’s reflection within a wider crisis in higher education, citing austerity cuts and the loss of longtime professors at The New School.
“I’ve been telling my students that universities are corporations that act and behave as profit centers,” Robinson wrote.
He said older models of workplace recognition, including honoring long service, have largely disappeared. In his view, long-serving workers are increasingly seen not as institutional assets, but as financial burdens.
“If you are employed X number of years you are making too much money and you have to go,” he wrote.
Robinson also thanked Naison for being one of the educators who helped him understand the cruelties of capitalism, writing, “I appreciate you!!”
Taken together, the responses show that Naison’s post did more than expose hurt. It opened a public conversation about recognition, gratitude, economic hardship, and the fragile relationship between institutions and the people who give them meaning.
From a Bronx perspective, this story is especially important. Fordham University is not only an academic institution; it is part of the borough’s intellectual, cultural, and community landscape. Professors who spend decades teaching, mentoring, researching, and building public projects often shape lives far beyond the classroom.
The Bronx African American History Project, which Naison has helped lead, is one example of scholarship rooted in community memory. It preserves stories, documents local history, and connects academic work to the lived experiences of Bronx residents. For supporters of such work, the discussion is not only about honoring one professor, but also about protecting community-based research from neglect.
A constructive response would not require turning this moment into a battle between one professor and one university. Rather, it invites Fordham and other institutions to ask a deeper question: how do universities honor the people who have carried their mission for decades?
It also invites former students and community members to reflect on the different ways legacy can be supported. Some may give money. Others may share testimony, preserve archives, mentor younger people, attend events, or publicly acknowledge the teachers who changed their lives.
Naison’s post ended not in withdrawal, but in renewed commitment. Despite his disappointment, he said he is not leaving the work.
That decision may be the most restorative part of the story. Even when institutions fail to recognize human service, the work of teaching, memory-building, and community truth-telling can continue. But the public response makes one thing clear: people want institutions to become more human again.
For universities in the Bronx and across the country, the lesson is simple but urgent. Recognition is not a luxury. It is part of how communities remember, repair, and remain connected to those who helped build them.







