Dinner with the Prez

On Tuesday night I went to the Senior Class Dinner with President Wright, Dean Larimore, and numerous alumni. Every spring the Dean's Office hosts a dinner for the graduating class in the Daniel Webster Room of the Hanover Inn (a VERY nice restaurant) to congratulate the seniors on their upcoming graduation.

On Tuesday, President Wright wished us congratulations and reminded us to keep Dartmouth close to us throughout our lives. He quoted the Convocation (a ceremony you go through during Orientation week) speech he'd given to us back in September 2002 when he said, “In addition to the rewarding academic life that you now commence, today you also enter a classroom without boundaries, a course of study not circumscribed by time limits, a learning environment that is as much about people as about place. With few exceptions, never before and likely never again will you live and work in such a small, intimate twenty-four-hour-a-day community, with so many people so different from you.” He suggested that perhaps we had come to recognize the uniqueness of our Dartmouth community.

Many of the Seniors at the dinner were tearful at the end of his speech, and we all gave him a resounding round of applause. (President Wright has an exceptionally moving voice. It is low and melodious, and, what may sound trite coming from someone else, when declared by President Wright, becomes powerfully provocative.)

When he had finished speaking we began our dinner. Because at every table there was a least one alumnus, our dinner conversation was both mildly awkward and hugely amusing. I was sitting at a table with two of my housemates, a ’57, and two ‘06s I didn’t know particularly well. The ’57 regaled us with stories of his time at Dartmouth, the wooing of his bride, and the errant path he followed to finally arrive at his Philosophy Major. He had just retired from his position as Bishop of Michigan’s Episcopalian Church and had chosen to retire to Quechee, Vermont, a few towns northwest of Hanover. He asked us what our plans were for next year and our endeavors spanned three continents, one music industry, two post-graduate fellowships, and a large pool of uncertainty. He told us not to fear and through our crême-brûlée dessert reminded us with great fervor that each and every one of had the potential to do whatever we could put our minds to. Though not as convincing as President Wright, it was nice to know that amidst our anxiety and trepidation at least one person believed in what we could accomplish.