GMAT Preparation 56 – IBM – Financial Analyst – New York – 2009

Bill Sonnenschein, Haas communications professor, has passed away. He was 59.

He was special to me for a couple of the biggest reasons. He was one of my favorite Haas professors. He embodied the life that I thought was exemplary of a model citizen. He was a fresh face of among pretentious, self-serving and insecure professors and students alike.

He was one of the first Haas/Berkeley professors I had gotten to know when I took my first Haas class in summer of 05. On the first day of class, he asked for a volunteer to become a class representative. I looked around for a split second, and noticing that no one was taking the responsibility, I raised my hand. Frankly, I didn’t think much of it because I was the only one.

One of the first things he said was he won’t change his grading scale. This was in response to what he knew was quite unpopular grading process. If I remember correctly, it was something about not being able to give everyone in your project group a 100%. You only had enough points to give out so that having it evenly distributed meant everyone got around 85%. As a class rep, I was the liaison between the class and the professor. One day, I asked for 10 minutes before a class to talk to the students. They expressed unanimous discontent over the grading policy and didn’t think it was fair. I asked Professor Sonnenschein for 10 minutes after class for a meeting between him and me.

I went over some of the minute topics first, couple things about what couple students specifically wanted, more examples, less theoretical stuff, more engaging exercises, stuff like that. I then told him what he knew he wasn’t going to change: the grading policy. That students felt it needed to be changed. He said he knows it’s not the most popular thing and that he never changed it in all his years at Berkeley. I told him again that the opinion of the class was unanimous. He again said he thinks it’s fair, and that students learn to cope with the policy one way or another. I again said I understand but this was the only thing that the entire class expressed discontent about and that’s the only reason why I’m making it a big deal. He said he understands my sentiment but will not change his policy.

The discussion was never heated, even though it might sound like it got that way. It was a good one on one discussion, and neither one of us, I feel, felt that we were both being misunderstood. We actually walked out of the classroom together and spoke briefly about where we’re from and parted our ways into the night.

On the ensuing class 2 days later, I again asked for 5 minutes before class, and told them that I talked to Professor Sonnenschein about the grading policy but that I couldn’t change his mind. More than a few students exprsesed immense discontent about this. Professor Sonnenschein walked in 5 minutes later, asking me if I’m done and I took my chair. He opened the class by saying that he heard about the class’s discontent over the grading policy and that he’s thought a lot about it. I felt for sure that by that he meant he doesn’t want anyone to even bring it up anymore and I was afraid the class would look at me and say what have you done to us. Instead, he said he’ll change it. He continued by saying he’s never done this before so we’ll have to see how it works out. He’ll change it so that we write up why a person in our project should receive a certain grade or not, with no limits on points to give, but we had to substantiate our opinions.

Much of the class later on said they appreciate whatever it is that I said to Professor Sonnenschein to change his mind. But you see, it really wasn’t me. Even at his age of 56 in 2005, he wasn’t the type of person that set a certain way of doing things just because it was proprietary. Instead, he was still analyzing his every move, looking through every option in every decision. He was challenging himself more so than he was challenging us. Few months later, I wrote him a simple email asking him to write a letter of recommendation for me. Here’s what he wrote:

October 25, 2005
No problem, Elliot.

And of course I remember you!!!

What is the deadline? And please give me a few areas
you’d like me to emphasize.
Bill

And that’s why I will fondly remember him. He was never too unwilling to reassess his stance and treat everyone with respect. I do wish I had gotten to know him better, but I feel fortunate enough for having had the chance to have any interaction with him, as I did as a naive class representative.

This is the email that I received last weekend:
Below is a message from Dean Lyons that we wanted to share with our alumni & former students of Bill Sonnenschein’s.

I bear sad news. Our colleague Bill Sonnenschein, a senior lecturer at the Haas School, passed away on December 29. He was 59.

Bill died of heart failure after a brief gastric illness during a family vacation in Madagascar. His wife, Ericka Lutz, a lecturer and writing consultant at Haas, and their daughter, Anaya, were with him.

Bill was in Madagascar as a special advisor to President Marc Ravalomanana, helping set up an Office of Leadership and Communication for Sustainable Development. Bill was recommended for this appointment by one of his former students who went on to serve as the President’s chief of staff.

Bill has been an integral part of the Haas School’s leadership communications program since 1992. He was one of the first faces to greet our full-time MBA students every summer as they arrived for the communication workshop. He taught the leadership communication core course for the full-time and Evening & Weekend MBA programs. He also taught leadership communications in the undergraduate program and in the BASE summer program. In addition, he served as faculty director to the Young Entrepreneurs at Haas program and as a member of the YEAH Executive Board. At the College of Natural Resources, he taught in the Beahrs Environmental Leadership Program.

Besides teaching at Berkeley, Bill was an avid traveler. He consulted and wrote about leadership, communications, and diversity. Among his books was The Diversity Toolkit, a training tool for organizations and universities. He lived in Oakland.

We will miss Bill dearly. He was a close friend and inspiration to many of us within the Haas community.

Bill is survived by his wife, Ericka Lutz; his children, Aaron, Rachel, and Anaya Sonnenschein; his sisters Susan Sonnenschein and Sherry Alcala; his granddaughter Cordelia Sonnenschein; daughter-in-law Ruthie Crossley; niece Morgan Alcala; parents-in-law Arthur and Karla Lutz; and many cousins, in-laws, and friends.

The Haas School and the College of Natural Resources are planning a joint memorial service later this month. Bill’s family plans to hold a public memorial service for Bill in March.

In lieu of flowers the family asks that donations be made to Balls Without Borders, UNICEF, or Doctors Without Borders.

A Haas community memorial blog has been created in Bill’s honor at http://haasforbill.blogspot.com/. To share memories and tributes, please e-mail Elizabeth Kovats at Kovats@haas.berkeley.edu for posting access.

Yours,

Rich

______________________

Rich Lyons, Dean
Haas School, UC Berkeley

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