Remarks of Weelcome to New Students and Parents
Matriculation Ceremony
Daniel F. Sullivan – Monday, August 23, 2004

Members of the Class of 2008, other new students, and your parents and families—a warm welcome to St. Lawrence University. We have been looking forward to your arrival for months. We are ready for you and anxious to get to know you. You new students are a remarkable group—expansive of mind, serious of purpose, generous in spirit, curious, creative, and warm-hearted. What fun we will have together in your time at St. Lawrence.

This matriculation ceremony marks the formal beginning of the Class of 2008’s St. Lawrence experience. In our program, Teresa Cowdrey, Dean of Admissions and Financial Aid and the person who leads the group who selected you from the second largest applicant pool in the history of the University, presents the new class to the faculty and staff. Dean Cornwell will accept you on behalf of the University and introduce and recognize two key colleagues: Prof. Steven Horwitz, Associate Dean of the First Year, and Dr. Marcia Petty, Vice President and Dean, who with her staff is responsible for student life. At the conclusion of this ceremony, you will be in their hands. They will teach you, learn with you, and help you discover how to live together in a learning community. Peter Snedeker, President of the Thelmothesian Society, St. Lawrence’s student government, will also give words of greeting.

You know, as I look out at you all—parents worrying about how it’s all going to go, students anxious to show their stuff, maybe even a little bit cocky—I can’t resist reading a poem I read my seven-year-old granddaughter this summer. It’s by Shel Silverstein, one of the great educational philosophers. You can find it in Where the Sidewalk Ends, and it is entitled “Smart:”

My dad gave me one dollar bill

‘Cause I’m his smartest son,

And I swapped it for two shiny quarters

‘Cause two is more than one!

 

And then I took the quarters

And traded them to Lou

For three dimes—I guess he don’t know

That three is more than two!

 

Just then, along came old blind Bates

And just ‘cause he can’t see

He gave me four nickels for my three dimes,

And four is more than three!

 

And I took the nickels to Hiram Coombs

Down at the seed-feed store,

And the fool gave me five pennies for them,

And five is more than four!

 

And then I went and showed my dad,

And he got red in the cheeks

And closed his eyes and shook his head—

Too proud of me to speak!

Any of you parents here today have children that smart?

Three Points

I have just three things I want to say to you members of our new class as you begin your undergraduate study at St. Lawrence:

• First, the world is an increasingly complex and difficult place, and the pace of change itself is increasing. One might be led to conclude from this that the challenges your generation faces outstrip the challenges of my generation and the challenges of our predecessor generations to an extent that our experience, and that of our elders, may not be relevant to the issues you face and will face. Why be an apprentice, this logic goes, to an elder who hasn’t had to face the complexity you will face?

I believe, however, that as the complexity of the issues we face and the pace of change have increased, so have our means for dealing with complexity and change improved. With technology and high-speed communication, we can literally get our arms around far more and keep track of it than could our predecessors. If the “challenge” of an age can be thought of as some combination of the complexity of the issues and our facility for handling complexity, I believe that today’s world is actually no more challenging than that faced by our predecessors in previous generations.

Let me give you a simple example. Like over a million other Americans I have read and greatly enjoyed David McCullough’s marvelous biography of John Adams. A fascinating part of the story involves Adams ’ diplomatic efforts, with Benjamin Franklin and Thomas Jefferson, in France and elsewhere during the Revolution. Can you imagine what it would be like to conduct international diplomacy in a time of national and world crisis using the means of communication available then? American leaders want to send instructions to their emissaries in London or Paris in response to a new development—new in the sense that they have learned of an important happening in a letter that took three months to get to them—so they write a letter in return and pack it off on a ship bound for Europe . The ship may not depart for six weeks and then maybe the ship makes it, and maybe it doesn’t; or maybe it lands in a different port than the one intended, and the letter must wend its way to its destination in a roundabout fashion. Perhaps it arrives in 2 months, perhaps 6 months, perhaps not at all. Meanwhile, the circumstances prompting the letter change and the instructions conveyed in the letter become moot or, worse, totally inappropriate. Yet they are instructions—perhaps even orders—and so must be implemented. Think of striking a bell with a hammer and not hearing the “gong” for several months.

Maybe today’s world is much more complex and difficult, but the “challenge” faced by our predecessors was surely no less than we face today. We cannot use the complexity of the issues we face as an excuse to deal less successfully with our challenges than did leaders and citizens of the past. And we cannot dismiss out of hand the lessons history can teach us because we believe that the challenges of today have no parallels in the past. We at St. Lawrence believe we have much to teach you. That is my first point.

• A liberal arts education was critical to leadership in generations past. My second point is that a liberal arts education is at least as important today if not more important. But what is it? The faculty of the University has spent a great deal of time making clear the aims and objectives of a liberal education that we think are central. At some point in your exploration of St. Lawrence you may have seen these words in our catalog. They describe what we will be about together in the next four years:

A liberal education requires breadth, depth and integration in learning. It also requires the cultivation of those habits of intellectual and moral self-discipline that distinguish a mature individual. To these ends, St. Lawrence seeks to provide an education that fosters in students an open, inquiring and disciplined mind, well informed through broad exposure to basic areas of knowledge; an enthusiasm for life-long learning; self-confidence and self-knowledge; a respect for differing opinions and for free discussion of those opinions; and an ability to use information logically and to evaluate alternative points of view.

A liberal education frees students from the confines of limited personal experiences and limited knowledge of the physical, historical, social and cultural world. In return, this liberation gives an enlightened understanding of that which is singular, immediate and limited. Thus, a liberal education is always relevant to the world in which students must live at the same time that it attempts to maintain a certain detachment from that world.

The kind of education we’re describing in these aims and objectives is the kind of education I want those who are tackling the tough issues on my behalf to have: the diplomat who seeks to contribute to peace in the Middle East, the physician who is going to diagnose my illness, the mother and father who are going to bring children into the world and help them grow, the lawyer who is an advocate but also knows and pursues justice, the novelist whose insight will help me understand the human condition better, the manufacturer who is not just good at making things but who also cares about the lives of his or her workers and the environmental impact of his or her manufacturing processes and products. The kind of education we’re about at St. Lawrence is not just important—it is absolutely essential and totally practical: it is a means to the end of making a powerful and positive difference in the world.

• My third point is about what I will call “constructive civic engagement.” Constructive civic engagement is one of the definitions, I believe, of “making a powerful and positive difference in the world.” Among the books I read this summer is one of which you may have heard: Bowling Alone, by Robert D. Putnam. Putnam lays out in excruciating detail the data about how civic engagement has declined sharply in America since the early 1960’s: political, civic, and religious participation have all declined; people make fewer connections with others in the workplace, and the number of informal social connections the average person maintains has also declined sharply (such as, having friends over for dinner); altruism, volunteering, and philanthropy have also declined on a per capita basis; felt obligations of reciprocity, the level of honesty, and the extent to which people trust each other have also declined. Overall, he paints a very discouraging picture of America today.

Why has this decline in civic engagement occurred? He gives four reasons:

First, pressures of time and money, including the special pressures on two-career families . . . . . perhaps account for 10% of the problem.

Second, suburbanization, commuting, and sprawl . . . . . . . . . perhaps account for another 10% of the problem. While noting that the amount of time and the distance the average worker commutes have both gone up sharply, Putnam goes on to say that “each additional ten minutes in daily commuting time cuts involvement in community affairs by 10 percent.”

Third, the effect of electronic entertainment—above all, television—in privatizing our leisure time . . . . . . perhaps accounts for 25% of the problem.

Fourth, and most important, generational change—the slow, steady, and ineluctable replacement of the long civic generation by their less involved children and grandchildren . . . . . . . perhaps accounts for half of the overall change.

Why does it matter? Because these declines in civic engagement are associated with declines in education and children’s welfare, less safe and productive neighborhoods, lower economic prosperity, lower levels of health and happiness, and less commitment to and success with democracy. The stakes, in other words, are huge.

How can we change it? Here Putnam makes several suggestions, and among them are some key commitments we have at St. Lawrence. He says:

A mounting body of evidence confirms that community service programs really do strengthen the civic muscles of participants, especially if the service is meaningful, regular, and woven into the fabric of the . . . . curriculum. . . . . . . . well-designed service learning programs . . . . improve civic knowledge, enhance citizen efficacy, increase social responsibility and self-esteem, teach skills of cooperation and leadership, and may even (one study suggests) reduce racism. . . . . . Volunteering in one’s youth . . . . is among the strongest predictors of adult volunteering. . .

Participation in extracurricular activities (both school linked and independent) is another proven means to increase civic and social involvement in later life.

These are things St. Lawrence supports and encourages in huge measure, and data we have comparing them to students at other selective liberal arts colleges show that St. Lawrence students are among the most engaged of any undergraduate students anywhere. You and we will have failed if, when you graduate from St. Lawrence, you are not among the leaders of a new generation of constructive civic engagement in America . That too should be a consequence of a liberal arts education. So, find a way to meet Anne Townsend, who directs our David Garner Center for Collegiate Volunteerism, and Prof. Ron Flores, who directs the St. Lawrence Service Learning Program. You won’t regret it!

I am here to tell you we are ready to do our very best for you. Getting the kind of education I’ve described is hard work—on our part and on your part. We’re going to be academically demanding and provide you with a rich array of academic opportunities, but we’re also going to give you hundreds of opportunities to develop yourselves in ways other than just the intellectual. In the end, it is my deepest hope that you will leave St. Lawrence having been challenged powerfully, and that you will have met the challenge. If this works the way we intend it, you will also leave St. Lawrence loving this place in a way that will last a lifetime. You will have been affected profoundly, and your attachment to St. Lawrence will be permanent and deeply meaningful.

So we welcome you, the Class of 2008, with the greatest enthusiasm. You are well prepared. We know you can do what is necessary to succeed here, and of course we know that you have chosen a marvelous university. The campus where you will spend your next four years is a beautiful monument to the aspirations you and we have for your education—quite unlike the one my St. Lawrence graduate son and I came across in Ireland a few summers ago. While we were reading on a bench next to a rural highway in Connemara , we looked across the road and saw a large monument of green marble. We got up and walked over to look at it. Inscribed on it were these words: "On this spot in 1897, exactly nothing happened!" I assure you that, if you do your part, the time you spend here will be very, very different. Thank you!

Dean Cowdrey, you may now present the class to the faculty!

Once again, let me say how great it is to have you here on this spectacular North Country day. Before we adjourn, I have a few announcements:

• First-year students: at the conclusion of the alma mater, I will ask you to stand and move toward the center aisle. As Dean Petty and Associate Dean Horwitz recess up the aisle, please fall in behind them to march out.
• First-year students should meet by their college sign after the recessional, where orientation leaders will direct you to your next event.
• Parents, please remain in your seats until after the recessional, at which time you can meet your sons or daughters under their FYP college sign in the grove of trees behind you in order to say “goodbye”.
• The Family Orientation Program is now concluded. Thank you for attending. Parents can and should go home!

And now please welcome the incomparable Laurentian Singers, led by Barry Torres!

Shel Silverstein, “Smart,” in Where the Sidewalk Ends (New York: Harper and Row, 1974), 35.

Robert D. Putnam, Bowling Alone: The Collapse and Revival of American Community ( New York: Simon and Schuster, 2000).

Ibid., Putnam, 213.

Ibid., Putnam, 283.

Ibid., Putnam, 405.