Orientation Dinner
Class of 2005: President's Welcome
Wellesley College
August 26, 2001
Diana Chapman Walsh
President
Wellesley College
A warm welcome to everyone. It's wonderful to see you
here at last. We've been waiting for you for what seems a
very long time. And many people have been anticipating this
moment. My thanks to everyone - students, staff, faculty --
whose creativity, commitment, and hard work has come
together in planning this opening day and the activities to
follow during this orientation week.
I want to say a special word of thanks to the students who
have come back early to get things ready: Orientation
Committee, Res. Staff, First-Year Mentors, Ask-Mes, others
here this evening. We're grateful for your energy,
enthusiasm and good work.
I want to thank the staff as well: members of the Student
Life Division, and all the front-line and back-stage people
who make this College run-who prepare, provide, and manage
the food, the buildings, the grounds, the technology-on and
on
many, many people performing many many overlapping
functions. We're akin to a small town in that respect-highly
dependent on one another for our comfort, our safety, our
satisfaction, our success -- and for ensuring the conditions
under which you can learn, we all can learn
the
reason we are here.
So
before we do anything else tonight, I want us to
think about all of those people-most of whom you haven't yet
met, some of whom you may never meet. I want to ask you to
join me in pausing to reflect on our debt of gratitude to
everyone who has worked to bring us here - and that includes
the folks at home: your parents, families, teachers,
friends. Would you pause with me for a moment of silence to
call to mind some of those people to whom you are grateful,
some of those people who have made it possible for you to be
here today (whether they are here with us or not).
[pause].
And now would you join me in a round of applause to thank
all the people who are here and who have been part of
getting you here and/or preparing the way for your arrival?
Thanks.
Now you may have noticed that I made a big deal of that and
you may have wondered why. It's because I want to encourage
you to hold this moment of thanks in your memories as a
reminder, throughout the year and indeed your whole time
here, a reminder to notice, experience, and express your
gratitude often -- to one another and to all who provide you
any help and support, however mundane, no matter how busy
you are, no matter how preoccupied, or needy, or
self-absorbed you may be when the help is rendered. Learn
the stories of the people who are serving and supporting you
here. You will be enriched and inspired if you will open
yourselves to others and if you will listen for the lessons
you can learn from discovering who they are, what you have
in common with them, how you and they are different.
This is important because the most essential thing we are
all doing here is creating and sustaining a community of
inquiry. Each of us has a role to play in that-there are
many different roles. We learn from our differences, and the
quality of the whole depends on the commitment each one of
us is willing to make to our collective exploration. We are
highly interdependent. The quality of life at Wellesley
during your four years here - the depth of the inquiry in
which we engage -- will depend very much on the attitude
each of you brings to each encounter. If you cultivate in
yourself the virtues of compassion, patience, tolerance,
gratitude, discernment, simplicity, then you will find those
virtues in others and the whole community will benefit.
I'm counting on all of you to do that and I am so delighted
to be welcoming to Wellesley College all of you who are
joining this community today for the first time -- transfer
students, Davis Scholars and post- baccalaureate students,
and the great green Class of 2005. I know we are going to
have a wonderful four years together-four years full of
wonder.
You, who bring us such a wealth of possibility and promise,
arrive at a promising moment in the history of this
institution. We have just completed the celebration of the
125th
anniversary of Wellesley College (a year-long birthday
bash), and last fall we also launched an ambitious five-year
fund raising campaign that will end just as you graduate
in 2005. You missed the birthday party, I'm sorry to say,
but you'll be part of what I'm sure will be an equally
exuberant celebration of the completion of the campaign at
the close of your senior year.
And along the way you'll be seeing steady progress on some
of the goals the campaign will enable us to pursue. Already
we've begun to create new internship and study abroad
possibilities, the
new Tanner Conference about which you'll be hearing a
lot this fall, new professorships and academic programs and
new facilities for teaching and learning, for technology,
and for athletics. We'll be planning a new
campus center as well and it probably won't open until
you're getting ready to graduate (it takes a long time to
design and build a complicated new center). The student
representatives on the bulding committee commented the other
day that they'll just have to have daughters and send them
to Wellesley because the building is going to be so cool -
and so slow to go up.
Our anniversary provided us many occasions to reconnect with
our mission and history and to look to the future. What we
observed were the impressive ways, ever since our
beginnings, that Wellesley College has been redefining what
constitutes effective leadership by making it truer to
women: to the gifts they have for the world and the hopes
they have for the future.
Madeleine Albright '59, who spoke at our
125th anniversary symposium last April, expressed her
hopes for you when she said: "I do hope that each of you
will use the knowledge you gain here at Wellesley to be more
than a consumer of liberty, but also a defender and enricher
of it, employing your talents to heal and help and teach."
You will, I am sure. You will bring your own distinctive
experiences, perspectives, and gifts to that task. We are
delighted to have you joining the sisterhood of powerful and
passionate Wellesley women who are making a difference in
the world - women who have made something noble of their
lives, as I know all of you will do, each in your own
way.
It's a great pleasure, today, also, to welcome the families
of this class of 2005 to the Wellesley family -- to share
your excitement and pride in your accomplished
students-daughters, sisters, granddaughters, whatever your
relationships. With that well-deserved pride, I do also
recognize your feelings of impending loss, as you prepare to
say good-bye and watch these women set off on this new
adventure they've been anticipating for so long.
I want to say a brief word, first, to the families, and
especially the parents, here with us this evening. I know
from my own experience that many of you will be leaving here
not only with your cars still full of all the paraphernalia
that couldn't be jammed into those cramped dormitory rooms,
but also with a large lump in your throats as you say your
good-byes.
As the mother of an only child -- a daughter - who is now in
her late-20s, I still recall this transitional moment
vividly ... viscerally, although it was a decade ago (which
itself is hard for me to believe). In fact, I still remember
as though it were yesterday the feel of her hand in mine,
the crunch of the leaves under our feet, and the crisp
autumn air in our lungs, as we walked to kindergarten for
her first day of school some 25 years ago. Do you remember
that moment too?
Our own David
Pillemer, a professor of psychology here at Wellesley,
has written an elegant book about these kinds of vivid
memories -- they stay with us with a saliency that brings
back a flood of sensations and feelings. There will be
aspects of this day -- today -- that for many of you will
occupy such a place in your minds and hearts, an indelible
place as a major life transition for your family.
We all have our coping strategies when we need to sort
things out, and one of mine has always been to write. I
wrote a couple of poems that day my daughter left for
college. It's become something of a tradition for me to read
one of them on this occasion and I'll do that this evening
-- at the end of my remarks.
But first, I'm happy to be able to report -- from personal
experience -- the good news that your daughters will be back
to you (and not only for all that extra stuff you'll be
schlepping home today). They'll come back fresh with a new
appreciation and respect for all you've been and done for
them -- once they've had a chance to find and claim their
own passions.
One of the greatest joys in my husband's and my life right
now is the deep and rich relationship we have with our grown
daughter, who was married here in the college chapel in
June, the day after Wellesley's graduation (not exactly the
best day to squeeze a wedding into my calendar, but it was
the day that worked for her; she's a senior resident in
internal medicine at the MGH and a day off is a rarity).
We'll catch her for a rushed meal at some strange hour as
she rotates off a long shift, exhausted, and, as she says
"toxic" after an all-nighter, but those moments with her are
precious, and we do savor them.
At the same time, we try hard to strike the right balance
with her between intimacy and invasion of her space, between
silence and words. We try to be there for her when she needs
us, but not to impose our needs on her, at least not too
much. That's the delicate balance of parenting -- acting as
though we really accept the famous dictum from The
Prophet, that our children are not our children but
life's yearning for itself.
The new relationships you'll develop with your daughters
will evolve in surprising and delightful ways, so hold on to
that reassuring thought as you take your leave this evening,
and be patient with yourselves and your questions as the new
relationship unfolds. It will take time and there will be
peaks and valleys. Be patient with your daughters too.
We're deeply grateful to you for sharing these exceptional
women with us; we do know how lucky we are to have them for
a time, and we'll work hard to be worthy of your trust. We
thank you for it.
And now, to you incoming students -- the Class of 2005 --
first it's a real pleasure to add my words of welcome to
those you've been hearing all day long. As Wellesley women,
you already sense, I think, that much will be expected of
you, during the time you're here on campus, and throughout
your lives. I know you have high expectations of yourselves;
they brought you here.
Your task while you are here will be to discover what
matters most to you, what for you is most fully alive, the
places where you can be most passionate, most powerful,
engaged, and effective -- the places where "your deep
gladness and the world's deep hunger meet," Frederick
Buechner's evocative definition of vocation.
And then your task will be to find the courage to develop
the capacities, knowledge, and wisdom that will enable you
to shape your life from that wellspring of identity,
integrity, and commitment. That sounds straightforward
enough, but it is a life-long task. And you will succeed at
it. Wellesley women succeed.
You will succeed as Wellesley women by applying yourselves,
by taking advantage of the extraordinary opportunities that
lie before you here, by making learning your number one
priority during your four years with us.
This is the only time in your lives when you'll have in
quite such a concentrated form the luxury of investing so
directly in your own growth, surrounded by so many people so
committed to supporting and rejoicing in your intellectual
strides. I know you'll take every advantage of this unique
and precious time. Make a point of really getting to know
your professors every semester.
You'll succeed by being true to yourselves, by taking risks
(but not dangerous ones), by stretching your minds and
surprising yourselves, by experimenting with entirely new
ideas and new tests of your mettle, with different versions
of yourself, different ways of expressing your vision, your
promise, your voice.
Cultivate curiosity and interest in many things, but
don't spread yourselves too thin. Do as many things as you
can do well at any one time. Learn to amuse yourself -- to
find your muse. Try to notice something every day that
delights you and takes you by surprise -- and try to
surprise others. Notice what inspires you. Find out what it
is you love, and do more of that, however hard it may
be.
You'll succeed here if you let yourselves grow toward the
sun (as you certainly will), and I hope you'll make the time
to mark and observe that growth. If, as a child, any of you
periodically marked your height and the date on the door jam
to your room, or in the closet, or somewhere else, just to
have a record, then you'll sense what I mean.
You won't be growing much taller here -- and most of us
would just as soon not expand a lot in girth -- but you will
be growing in every other vital respect, if we're all doing
our jobs. And I strongly encourage you to take time, with
some regularity, to mark where it is you are --
intellectually, socially, spiritually -- to assess and to
consolidate the personal growth you will surely
experience.
Keep a journal, meditate, take long walks, sit by the lake,
write poems or letters to yourself (or to someone else and
keep a copy), save quotations or writings or other works of
art that speak to you, share your struggles with friends --
use any and all touchstones that work for you -- from your
own culture or (even better) from a new one you'll encounter
here.
You'll succeed by asking yourself what you need from this
College to develop into the finest, wisest, deepest person
you can be. Ask yourself that question from time to time and
then make sure you get what you need. And let me or someone
in the administration know if you're not finding it. We
don't promise that we'll be able to fix everything, but we
do promise to listen. Because the best way -- the only way
-- Wellesley can make a difference in the world (our most
fundamental purpose) is to graduate women who will - and you
will be such women.
It won't always be easy. I trust you know that. There will
be times of struggle and distress, times when you will feel
lost and overwhelmed. That is an inevitable part of the
journey on which you are setting off. Trust yourselves
through those times. When you hit the wall or find yourself
lost in a cul de sac, don't take that as evidence that
something has gone terribly wrong or that you are failing.
More than likely it means that you are taking a major new
step.
There's one other obligation we all share -- one other
measure of our individual and collective success. We must
all ask ourselves not only what we as individuals need from
Wellesley College, but also what each of us can bring to
make this the best learning community it can possibly be --
for everyone.
I ask you, please, to ask yourself this question from time
to time: What personal, intellectual, cultural, creative
contributions am I bringing this community? Is there more I
can do to make this a vibrant, inclusive, challenging place
in which we all can learn from each other? Am I being
constructive? Am I being creative? Is my impact
positive?
As you do these things, as you ask these questions, as you
are mindful in these ways, as you act, always, as though
what you do makes a difference (because it does), then you
will surely succeed ... at Wellesley and throughout your
lives.
So -- there is serious and important work we will be doing
together -- learning, questioning assumptions, shaking loose
of prejudice, supporting one another in community-building
and intellectual-inquiry. I know you'll do this work
faithfully and well. I know we can count on you.
I know, too, from eight years of visits with Wellesley
alumnae across the country, around the world, and down
through the generations, that among the greatest treasures
you will take from this College -- and cherish for the rest
of your lives -- will be the deep and enduring friendships
you will nurture here. And some of the most lasting ones
have begun this very day.
So please savor your friendships, guard your spirits, and
save some time for fun. As important as our serious work is,
it is equally important that we not get so bound up in it
that we miss the joy along the way. "If you miss the joy of
it," Robert Louis Stevenson said, "you miss it all."
Let's make a pact together then -- on this memorable day as
we contemplate the next four years together. Let's agree to
work hard, to be disciplined and respectful, to take
seriously our commitments to ourselves, to one another, to
this special community, and to the powerful legacy of this
College.
And let's promise, too, to save some time for laughter,
levity, and love. When you catch me walking around the
campus with a distracted or worried look on my face (I'll
probably be thinking about all that money I have to raise),
remind me to lighten up -- and I'll do the same for you.
Welcome to Wellesley and the very best of luck to each and
every one of you. We are delighted, and we are privileged,
to have you here.
Now the poem. I wrote it a day or two after my daughter went
off to Stanford as a first-year student in September of '91.
As hard as my husband and I had tried all that summer to
change her mind, she was resolute that she wanted to fly
alone to California. She said it was going to be hard enough
and this would make it easier for her. So we said our
good-bys at Logan airport. This poem describes the moments
just after we put her on the plane.
Shall we watch the plane take off?
You ask as I try not to cry.
I shake my head no,
And we walk to the car
Unburdened except for the pain.
It's not as though there wasn't time
To see this coming, you say
Cautiously, half question-half joke, as if to help.
But I am blinded by a loss
Beyond envisioning.
We come to the car, just two of us now.
No child to sit in the back ...
Empty electric chair at the end of death row.
Let's go back, I blurt. Gently, you say
No. It's time to go on.
So ... now is it's your time to go on. Safe journey and God
speed to you all.
Your daughters are going to thrive here and make you even
prouder of them, if that is possible, than you are at this
precious moment. Thanks again for the confidence you have
placed in us.
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