The Exeter Bulletin — Summer 2011

Collecting Life's Images

2011

Commencement Address

 

by Principal Thomas E. Hassan

 

Good morning, Exeter, and welcome to this very special occasion marking the Commencement of the 307 members of Phillips Exeter Academy's class of 2011.

As we celebrate the accomplishments of this graduating class, we should take a moment to appreciate those whose encouragement and sacrifices have sustained and nourished the students who sit here with me today. As Haider [Ghiasuddin '11] acknowledged, this Commencement also honors the families and friends of our graduates. Seniors, please stand and join me in thanking your supporters in this audience with a round of applause as an expression of your gratitude and affection.

It feels a little strange to have the senior class sitting next to me. I am so accustomed to looking out at them from the Assembly Hall stage. From our vantage point this morning, the seniors and I can observe hundreds of proud and happy faces, many of them behind a camera. Each click, each recording is an image that will become part of a memory of this milestone in the life of a child, and of a family.

When I was growing up, we took pictures to memorialize these landmarks and to simply remember particularly joyful or important times. Digital technology has, of course, made the taking and sharing of images an almost ubiquitous act. The photographs and videos from today will quickly be shared on Facebook pages, through email, on YouTube, or on smartphones being passed from hand to hand. Some of these photos may never be printed or saved in traditional albums as were graduation photos of the past. But the desire to record and share these images—to memorialize these rites of passage and achievement—remains with us. Markers are important.

I spent some time this spring looking through the Academy's archives and found several faded black-and-white photographs that commemorate earlier graduations.

• The oldest Commencement photograph I could find dates back to around 1904. Standing in front of the third Academy Building, which preceded the current building behind me, is a circle of young men in caps and gowns. Scattered over the lawn are groups of men and women. The ladies are wearing long gowns and large hats. There are no chairs lining the expansive lawn for the comfort of the proud parents and friends.
• I found another tattered Commencement photograph from the 1920s. The ceremony is once again taking place on this lawn, but the Academy Building is the one you see behind me. The picture appears to have been taken from that window. There is another circle of young men in caps and gowns, and another scattering of parents. This time the women's dresses no longer brush the ground and their hats are less ornate. . . . Still, no chairs . . . and aren't we pleased this morning that this tradition has changed? But what strikes me most forcefully is the fence along Front Street. It is identical to the one behind you right now. Some things at Exeter don't change.

Ageless moments, places and feelings are the subject matter of these iconic pictures. And there are more recent images, ones that will live forever in our minds and in our hearts:

• The worn marble stairs leading up to the Assembly Hall reminding us of the footsteps—and efforts—that have prepared and shaped this place for each successive graduating class;
• Twelve of you and an Academy teacher sitting around an oval table. If the photo had been taken this winter, snow or even ice may be falling outside, but the discussion is always warm or even heated;
• Exeter's traditional Georgian buildings, many of them built at the time of the Harkness gift. Their rich red brick and graceful, practical lines speaking to the substance and longevity of our Harkness method;
• The library lawn on a windy spring evening filled with boys in evening finery and girls in prom dresses, reminding us of the importance of personal relationships and celebration in the midst of difficult and important work;
• And a sea of hands waving in the air on a perfect day last fall at Andover's Phelps Stadium where Exeter's football team beat Andover's . . . for the third year in a row. Unity in purpose and a sense that you belong to something bigger than yourself can indeed be exhilarating.

I would like to share with you, members of the class of 2011, some of the special pictures I carry in my mind of your time at the Academy. This first set of photos flips by as if on an iPod screen. They are taken on a cloudless day, September 6, 2007:

• 176 of you as entering preps registering at the Phelps Science Center, nervously anticipating a new and big chapter in your lives;
• Your proctors and parents struggling up stairs under the weight of heavy boxes as you elect to chat with new friends, exploring how you will find a place here;
• Goodbyes being given with some parents looking like they are the ones being left behind—proud of their remarkable children while regretting the kind of separation that marks a parenting job well done;
• You blending in with other students in the Assembly Hall for the Opening Assembly. In the sea of new faces, there is one very, very familiar one. . . . Meg Hassan '11 is now a true Exonian.
• I will also admit to carrying with me an image that I especially treasure: Your warm endorsement in October 2008 when the Trustees announced my appointment as the Academy's 14th principal. Your sustained applause confirmed my feeling that I was, indeed, ready to lead Exeter.

 

There is another set of photos captured just two months later in December 2008:

• The campus looking both beautiful and dangerous as ice encases trees, buildings and electrical wires, and our remarkable facilities and dining services crews, who have left their own families, ensuring that you are fed and safe and the campus functional;
• Our iconic Harkness tables still having eager students around them but the overhead lights don't work. You managing your exams in stride, even helping faculty reproduce a single edition of an exam on cell phones;
• You and your dorm mates spending the evening studying for final exams with flashlights and in front of fireplaces because our campus, as well as 1 million households in New Hampshire, is still without electricity. I toured those dorms that night, wondering if this is what a typical evening looked like here some 200 years ago.

Class of 2011, you certainly have been tested by several of nature's challenges, from that ice storm during your lower year to the H1N1 virus outbreak last year, and to this fall's appearance of a few bedbugs. Not to mention the rain this spring! Throughout your time here, you have kept your cool and your sense of humor.

During your final year at the Academy it seems the picture-taking has gained momentum, exponentially it seems, leading to a vast number and array of images for us to sort through and consider.

And your Senior Week activities are sure to add a special spice to any photo collection. Won't it be fun to explain to others the true meaning of the Ninja Circle shot? And how about all those folks covered with clothespins?

You and I have a wealth of images from your time here, but your lives ahead will produce many more. What will your collection of pictures be like when you return to campus in five, 10, 50 years? What will you have accomplished, experienced and recorded?

For some of you, Exeter has been a place where you have honed an existing vision. You came here with particular, recognized gifts and you will continue to progress along the path of nurturing and sharing these gifts. Your photo collections, at least at your early Exeter reunions, may include images of you reaching one marker or threshold after another in your chosen field.

Others of you came here as budding generalists, demonstrating a significant ability to hold your own in many settings or to ease the interactions of diverse groups of people. You will record markers of your own, perhaps in a series of venues.

And some of you find your comfort and confidence in quiet, private moments—and more meditative expressions of your proficiency. Today, your path may still be unclear, at least to you. And your photo collection upon your return to Exeter may be less predictable—and that is what will make it interesting.

Over time, you will all learn to value a varied and extensive collection of images. The set will most likely begin with those that feature you, and then, over time, a spouse or partner, friends, children—your own or someone else's—other family members, and colleagues. Value these images, not just for the memories they invoke, but also for the lessons that they will come to teach. A moment of valor on the playing field can be a reminder that good health is a great and sometimes fleeting gift; awards for professional achievement can seem diminished in light of a lingering disagreement with a colleague. 

And the collection should, over time, include images from the larger world—which will help to shape you, and build or reinforce your vision and goals. Regardless of how or where you choose to engage with the world, the path you travel—the way you travel it—will make a difference. As your collection grows, take the time to review it and learn from it, and vow to add to it or change its composition when you need to—inevitably you will.

Our lives never follow a single or planned trajectory, and our collections will be enriched if we have the courage to step from the established track. World citizen, playwright and former President of the Czech Republic Václav Havel advises us, "Vision is not enough; it must be combined with venture. It is not enough to stare up to the step; we must step up the stairs."

You may also be offered opportunities and possibilities that you have to put aside. Don't abandon them. As the philosopher and theologian Søren Kierkegaard said, "It is very dangerous to go into eternity with possibilities which one has oneself prevented from becoming realities. A possibility is a hint from God. One must follow it." Review your collections for those unfinished projects, for those untested possibilities, and for the regrets that, unattended, can overwhelm you. In the future, having done so will result in a collection you are pleased to share with your classmates, but most importantly one you will reflect upon with pride.

Now comes the time that I must say farewell to the members of the class of 2011, and, in doing so, I offer you my customary charge. I hope it is as helpful for you to hear it as it is for me to read it: First, you have been given the gift of a Harkness education. Use the voices you have developed around our oval tables to speak up, to speak your own mind and to draw out others around you. But more importantly, help those who cannot speak up for themselves.

In the words of Proverbs 31:8, "Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves, for the rights of all who are destitute. Speak up and judge fairly; defend the rights of the poor."
Second, you have learned well the lesson of uniting knowledge and goodness. Go forth and give of yourself to your communities and to this world, and in the process, do so for others and not for yourself alone.

Remember the words of Mahatma Gandhi: "I shall pass through this world but once. Any good therefore that I can do or any kindness that I can show to any human being, let me do it now. Let me not defer or neglect it, for I shall not pass this way again." And I add the words of someone with whom you are most familiar, Dr. Seuss [from The Lorax]:

"Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better. It's not." 

And, finally, remain connected with each other and to our school. Take the connections and special friendships you have formed at Exeter with you, and nurture them in years to come. To reinforce that thought, I leave you with the words of the Greek philosopher, mathematician and religious scholar Pythagoras: "Friends are as companions on a journey, who ought to aid each other to persevere in the road to a happier life."

Goodbye, class of 2011. Godspeed, class of 2011. God bless you, class of 2011.