As Dr. Jack Corbett marks his final term at Portland State University, he doesn’t call it retirement. He calls it “unemployment” a sharp, fitting phrase for a scholar whose decades of service have been defined not by job titles or paychecks, but by restless curiosity, intellectual generosity, and a global approach to public service. “Retirement is for someone with nothing left to do,” he says. “I’m a very long way from that.”
From a student standing in the markets of Isfahan, Iran, translating between Farsi and French, to a professor guiding hundreds of students through fieldwork in Mexico and Canada, Dr. Corbett’s path has always led him into complexity. His work, both scholarly and personal, resists easy categorization. He never formally studied public administration, yet became one of its most dynamic educators at PSU, a university he joined not by hiring, but by merger, following a transfer of faculty from Lewis and Clark College in 1996. Ironically, the most reluctant participant in that merger is now the last to leave.
A Life Shaped by Immersion
Corbett’s passion for international and immersive learning began in that Iranian bazaar, and never let up. Whether negotiating cross-border policies, plowing a field with oxen in rural Mexico, or introducing students to Canadian dairy politics, his goal was always the same: to cultivate understanding across difference.
“Fieldwork teaches students about confronting complexity in ways we largely strip out of the classroom,” Corbett explains. While classrooms often focus on finding the right answer, the field is about learning to ask better questions. Through this approach, Corbett has led over 700 students across borders and disciplines, pairing American undergraduates with Mexican graduate students, and watching meaningful transformation unfold.
His commitment to place-based education is grounded in an unusual metaphor: spaghetti. “Immersion is a little like cooking a pot of spaghetti,” he says. “You can treat it as a mass of undifferentiated pasta, or take the time to understand the composition of the strands, the ingredients, and what you’re trying to create.” For Corbett, the details matter,and so does the process of slow, thoughtful engagement.
From Dissertation to Return: A Career That Circles Back
Now on sabbatical in Mexico, Corbett has returned to the village where he conducted his dissertation research more than 50 years ago. He’s exploring how economic integration, political change, and migration have reshaped the community while also asking what remained the same. “Continuity and change are central threads,” he says, noting how a lifetime of scholarship allows him to revisit old questions with new tools. “What have I learned that can extend the reach of my work?”
This blend of curiosity and humility also shapes his work in cultural heritage policy, especially in increasingly polarized political climates. “A central challenge today is whose culture and heritage do we manage?” he asks. “Do we address all cultures or only those of select populations?” For Corbett, the question is not merely academic; it cuts to the heart of a society’s moral vision. “The United States appears increasingly unable to manage its own complexity, forsaking the promise of its own founding document.”
Mentorship and Moral Certainty in an Age of Doubt
Perhaps Corbett’s most enduring legacy lies in the students he’s mentored. Over 54 years of teaching, he has encouraged risk-taking, ambiguity, and intellectual bravery. “Watching students manage the dilemmas of certainty and doubt has been a continuing source of inspiration,” he says. Referencing Davy Crockett, “Be sure you’re right, and go ahead” he emphasizes that being right requires both empirical grounding and moral clarity, balanced always with the humility of doubt. “A true democrat, or a true scientist, is always in doubt.”
It is this tension between certainty and questioning, between continuity and disruption that defines Dr. Corbett’s approach to public service education.
Not Retiring, But Reaching Further
As he leaves PSU, Corbett does so with characteristic irony and vigor. “My wife says my epitaph will be: ‘If he had only had until the end of the week,’” he jokes. He intends to keep writing, mentoring, and contributing for as long as possible “still owing someone one more manuscript, report, or letter of recommendation.”
In the end, Dr. Jack Corbett reminds us that education is not merely a profession, but a lifelong practice of inquiry, immersion, and unfinished business. His career, like the best fieldwork, is not about finding closure, it’s about continuing the work.
“Once more unto the breach, dear friends.” And off he goes.