Clarence Robert Clements ’31, ’72 (Hon.); P’71, P’75: A Memorial Minute

Upon the occasion of C. Robert Clements’ appointment as the George Albert Wentworth Professor of Mathematics in 1985, Principal Stephen Kurtz wrote, “You are living proof that ‘the school man,’ like the blue-footed booby you look for worldwide, is a species endangered but not extinct.” And while it is true that much of Bob’s career was spent teaching and caring for students at boys’ boarding schools, he proved himself to be the consummate school person during his tenure at Exeter following co-education after 1970.

In fact, during his tenure as chair of the department, Bob himself was most proud of hiring and retaining women: “We have been able to attract and hold good mathematics teachers…because of the quality of our program, because of the competence of our tenured members, and mostly, because of the generous collegiality embraced by all…During the past ten years [1978-88] half of the new members of the department have been women…Right now we are in a very strong position with a number of excellent women in the department. I hope we can maintain this trend.”

Born July 5, 1925, in New York City, Bob and his brother James essentially grew up in a group home in Hudson, NY because their parents needed help with their care. They lived there until high school graduation, while always remaining in touch with their parents. Despite this beginning, Bob graduated a year early as high school class valedictorian in 1943.

During World War II, Bob served as a navigator in the U.S. Air Force. After the war, he returned home and enrolled at Hamilton College, graduating with a B.A. in 1949 and taking a teaching position at Choate (now Choate Rosemary Hall). During the Korean War (1951-52), Bob returned to duty in the Air Force. Rejoining the faculty at Choate, Bob taught there for two decades, becoming Math Department Chair, before accepting an appointment at Exeter in 1969. Colleague Eric Bergofsky believes Bob’s military experience served him well, particularly in moments of crisis. Clem had a talent for keeping challenging moments in proper perspective. When, for example, a colleague or student was feeling unduly stressed, Bob remained calm. He had, after all, lived through Korean bombing missions. He had a knack for lowering the temperature of the moment and would often say, “Getting shot at over Korea while flying at 30,000 feet is a crisis, this is a problem we can solve.”

A veteran teacher, coach, and dormitory advisor, Bob immediately made a name for himself at Exeter as a versatile and brilliant mathematician, a colorful character with a sharp wit and unwavering devotion to the responsibilities of boarding school life.

When asked to contribute to this remembrance for Bob, the response from alumni was overwhelmingly positive and enthusiastic, many more than can be related here. The common denominators were clear: a favorite teacher, he was caring, down-to-earth, rigorous, funny, mischievous, kind, and generous. Michele Kreisler ’85 wrote, “Mr. Clements was the most outstanding mathematics teacher I have ever had… [He} held a lively class that was never boring, and many times felt like family…[he] made learning an abstract subject fun and easy.”

Bob had a talent for demonstrating the practical applications of math. Students recalled, for example, Bob’s gambling escapades: “I loved Mr. Clements’ math class and remember his love of gambling…he liked to play blackjack and… [he told us] he would pay someone to drag him away from a table after his winnings had reached a certain level,” (Philip Von Burg). Joseph Crowley ’77 remembered that “he showed us how to do a card trick that relied on doing a perfect shuffle (exactly one card at a time from each side of the shuffle). We solved math and geometry problems involving playing cards. Nevertheless, we mostly ended up on the right track in life.”

Many students credit Bob with influencing their choices of college major and career. Elizabeth Scout Joy ’90 wrote that “Mr. Clements’ sarcastic, dry humor, chalky tweed jackets, and robust ‘stache could be intimidating to some, but I thought he was funny…[he] helped me gain a confidence that put me on the path to be a math major in college and then enjoy a career in Finance.”

John A Koski summed it up well by writing, “Mr. Clements was truly a remarkable instructor and made such a significant impact on my time at Exeter and my education. He demanded excellence and rigor in the classroom, but all wrapped in a fun and engaging demeanor. His subject was mathematics of course, but the learnings from Mr. Clements’ classroom were broader and encompassed core skills of critical thinking and broad problem solving. He certainly represented the paradigm of the Exeter teacher…a union of goodness and knowledge.”

Bob Clements’ influence, however, went far beyond the classroom. Bob Morse ’89 wrote, “As a new day student…I was the only one in my French 11 class not to have taken a class in French before high school. I was completely lost. And so “clutching a generously graded ‘D-‘ test in hand, I sought out Mr. Clements in the Math Dept [room]…My thoughts ran along the lines of: What the heck is the chair of the math department supposed to do for a 14 year old failing French?…He told me how much he’d suffered in learning a foreign language in college, and how the thing that worked was to write out each new word five times and then just toss it in the trash. I don’t know why, but I felt like he’d given me the answer… I sat there copying words while he graded homework… We met several more times that fall. With his approach I passed French 11. Indeed, Lower year, I won second in French on Prize Day.”

Another story of Bob’s kindness and caring from Andrea Thomas who remembers being a late admit arriving after orientation and the start of classes, feeling “shellshocked and intimidated,” and having to take the math placement test. Clem gave her the test and left Andrea alone in an empty classroom. Unfortunately, she “could not figure out how to attack a SINGLE problem! Tears started flowing.” Returning to the department room, she silently handed the empty blue book back. “He opened it and looked at me and I burst into tears…He told me not to worry, that they would be able to place me in the right class without the test, that he was sure I was tired from the effort of getting to school…On a very challenging day, he put a young student at ease…I am forever grateful.”

Charles Neuhaus ’79 adds his memory of ending up in the infirmary with a broken arm and tooth, chagrined that he would be there for at least a week. He wrote, “Much to my surprise, a couple of days into my stay, Mr. Clements brought our entire math class to the infirmary, so I wouldn’t be left out… and fall behind in my studies. This gesture meant more to me than you can imagine… Mr. Clements was more than a math teacher; he was a good friend…”

Mr. Clements was truly a remarkable instructor and made such a significant impact on my time at Exeter and my education. He demanded excellence and rigor in the classroom, but all wrapped in a fun and engaging demeanor.

John A Koski

In 1981 in honor of his work in the dormitory, parents of a former Exonian who lived in the dorm with Bob and his wife Louise, established the C. Robert Clements Scholarship, a financial aid fund for handicapped students. Both Clementses held this award in the highest esteem of Bob’s “awarded honors” and corresponded regularly with the recipients. As a further tribute to their work, in 1976 Robert and Louise were voted Honorary Members of the Class of 1931. Richard B. Treadwell ’84 said it best: “The main reason Mr. Clements has such success is because he likes dorm life…The pleasure he gets from dealing with students and running a dorm is apparent in how smoothly the dorm operates and how content the students are.” Probably the steak and ice cream socials, affectionately called “The Nerd Party” dinners that he and Louise provided for dorm students who had no unexcused absences for a whole semester, helped as well!

Bob Clements certainly met the challenge of Exeter’s triple threat: classroom, dormitory and athletics. He coached football, golf, track, and squash at Exeter. One year he was even “permitted to coach club baseball” [S. Kurtz]. Derek Stal ’89 remembered that as a tennis player making the transition to squash, his “interactions with Mr. Clements were among my most memorable at PEA. I can still hear him from the gallery above the courts, issuing somewhat nebulous coaching advice with daily frequency and great conviction, ‘C’mon, Stal, HIT the ball!’ He encouraged me to embrace the physical side of the game and not worry about the skills that I was obviously lacking.” Derek went on to describe how he chased “balls relentlessly until [his] more talented opponents either prevailed or ran out of patience and energy…Mr. Clements informally awarded us…with titles, mine being the ‘Biting Dog Award.’ As he explained, ‘Stal, you’re that annoying little dog that bites onto your ankle and never lets go.’ This is one of the awards of which I’m most proud. Try hard, never give up, and do what works for you.”

Despite his busy life in school, Bob filled much of the remaining time furthering his own education, and continually learning new mathematics, including pioneering computer use, and becoming the school’s first Computer Coordinator. Jack Heath, Dean of the Faculty wrote in 1985, “He is largely responsible for the breadth and depth of our mathematics curriculum. You name it, he teaches it…Of all our academic departments his is the most cohesive and professionally active…The teachers congregate in [the department] room during free periods and talk shop…Math teachers here develop by teaching, but also by hobnobbing with other math teachers.” Bob loved his department and colleagues and took immense pride in his role as a leader. The Math Department debated everything from the most elegant solutions to problems, to sports, politics, and especially school and departmental policies. No matter how heated or contentious arguments became, a democratic department vote always settled the issue and then Bob was off to play squash with the same colleagues he had just argued with.

Bob’s own education and training included the Harvard Academic Year Institute, followed by an Ed.M. from Harvard (1959), a Certificate of Advanced Study in computers from Wesleyan University (1964), a Klingenstein grant, and several NSF grants for further study. And he was continually and generously offering courses outside of Exeter in Advanced Placement Calculus and Probability. The head of the math department at Winnacunnet High School praised him for “the high quality of the presentation…[being] knowledgeable in the subject matter…and obviously well prepared…After a full day of teaching, we especially enjoyed our teacher’s excellent sense of humor.”

Colleagues at Exeter were similarly effusive and enthusiastic in their remarks. As a new hire in 1985, Joyce Kemp remembered her family being genuinely concerned whether their dog would be allowed in the dorm. In a phone conversation, Bob described how there had been major problems with dogs fighting and making trouble, and that a new rule was recently established that didn’t allow dogs (long, pregnant pause) in classrooms. He could probably hear sighs of relief all the way from Massachusetts. Stephanie Kay (now Girard) clearly recalled her first year at PEA, which was also the first year of the “new curriculum.” Bob was department chair, and when he handed Stephanie a copy of the weekly schedule and told her what formats and courses she was teaching, he said “If you can figure out where you are supposed to be when, you can have my job.”

Bob was a terrific self-taught golfer, who was head varsity golf coach for many years. In the ‘70’s, he helped create the end-of-year Faculty Golf Tournament, a tradition that lasted for many years past his retirement. It was open to all faculty and staff, and he particularly designed it so that everyone felt invited, whether a raw beginner or an accomplished golfer. There was always a nice party afterwards that included many humorous and fun awards. Bob himself won the championship many times and his close friend and math colleague Spruill Kilgore won the women’s title.

Tony Greene only taught with Bob for one year; however, he wrote, “Norma [Tony’s wife] and I saw a lot of him after his retirement because of our mutual involvement in duplicate bridge. When he retired, I remember him saying that he wanted time to pursue three passionate interests: birding, golf, and bridge. For at least 25 years after his retirement, Bob was a regular participant in national, regional, and sectional duplicate bridge tournaments. During this time, he reached the level of Gold Life Master, and he once won the New Hampshire state pairs championship…I took Bob’s probability course at the Exeter Math Conference. This was a field of mathematics he put to significant use both at the bridge table, and on his occasional visits to casinos. In 1991, while playing in Las Vegas at a national event, he once, in one day, played 4 sessions of bridge…finishing around 1 AM and then visited the casino for a few hours to unwind… Bob Clements was one of a kind.” And as Principal Steve Kurtz said, he was even “rumored among the students to be unwelcome in Las Vegas and Monte Carlo because of [his] penchant for breaking the bank.”

Bob’s passion for birding and traveling was also very well known. His daughter Joan said that he shared these “life-long loves” with his brother James “who was a world-renowned ornithologist, author of six editions of the book, “Birds of the World, A Check List.” Several of Bob’s photographs, faded by now, are still hanging in the department room. Dick Brown reported, “On one birding trip with Jim, the two crashed their small plane in the treetops of the jungle. Miraculously they were not hurt. Bob also loved to ski. Four faculty members (Bob, John Warren, Phillippe Turnysen and I) arranged our winter schedules so we did not have late morning class, allowing us to drive 1.25 hours to Gunstock for two hours of skiing.” The list of countries that Bob, and often Jim, traveled to included France, Germany, Peru, Botswana, Zambia, Argentina, Chile, New Zealand, Nepal, India, Sri Lanka, Paraguay, Bolivia, Venezuela, and Thailand.

Though Clem retired in 1990, he leapt at the chance to return to Exeter more than a decade later as a member of the Summer School faculty. Doug Rogers, who served as Summer School Director at that time, invited Bob to join emeriti instructors, Nita Pettigrew and Harv Knowles, as mentors to teachers new to Harkness pedagogy. Together, this dream team of Clements, Knowles, and Pettigrew represented over 162 years of teaching experience, the bulk of it, in Harkness classrooms. Clem was thrilled to return to New Hampshire, thrilled to be the eldest member of the Summer faculty. As he had for his entire career, Bob embraced his mentoring responsibilities with care, dedication, and a wonderfully wry sense of humor. Eric Bergofsky, director of the Exeter Mathematics Institute (EMI) at the time, recalls Bob enthusiastically being a member of a team of Exeter math teachers working with the Phoenix Public School teachers in the late 1990’s. Bob, now in his 70’s, taught his favorite probability course and was a big hit with the new generation of teachers half his age.

Visiting Bob In the community where he and Louise were living at the time, Joyce Kemp was not surprised to see Bob’s photographs of birds and travel locations adorning the hallways, and Bob himself preparing to give a talk that week to the residents. Always teaching, always entertaining, always learning.

Bob and Louise raised two daughters, Eleanor and Joan, through Exeter and college. Eleanor married John Bellinger and lived her married life in London. Louise, Eleanor, John, Jim (Clem’s brother), and Jim’s son Bob and grandson Jay predeceased Bob, who passed away on October 21, 2023.

He is survived by his daughter Joan Clements Francis, her ex-husband Greg Gilchrist, their children Sarah and Nate Gilchrist, Eleanor and John’s sons James and Sam Bellinger, great grandchildren Sophia, Louise, Evelyn, and Cameron Bellinger. The family on Bob’s brother Jim’s side remained close and active in his life until Bob’s death, including Jim’s widow Karen Clements, a nephew and his wife, Dan and Karen Clements, a grandnephew and his wife, James and Alex Clements, and one great-grandnephew, Griffen.

I move that this Memorial Minute be submitted to Bob’s daughter, Joan Clements Francis, and be spread upon the minutes of the faculty.

Respectfully submitted,

January 15, 2025

Joyce C. Kemp
Eric S. Bergofsky
Richard G. Brown
Stephanie Girard
Anthony W. Greene
Douglas G. Rogers

This Memorial Minute was first published in the summer 2025 issue of The Exeter Bulletin.

Second Acts: A conversation with Kristin Koval ’88

A conversation with debut novelist and former lawyer Kristin Koval ’88

Kristin Koval ’88 always wanted to be a writer but instead pursued a career in law. She attended Georgetown University and, after a year of travel, Columbia Law School. Traveling, Koval says, was “one of the best things I’ve ever done. … Travel reminds you that there are eight billion different worlds on this planet.”

A few years ago, she decided to focus on her writing. The result, Penitence, is an assured, accomplished debut novel, a compelling tale of tragedy and forgiveness in a small Colorado ski town. In the opening pages, 13-year-old Nora is arrested after fatally shooting her 14-year-old brother. Ultimately, the effects of the shooting encompass not just their parents, but also the lawyers — formerly close friends of the family — who take on Nora’s defense.

We caught up with Koval to hear more about her new book and transition to the writing life.

I love how your characters have messiness in their lives; each one is such a complete, humane person. How did you manage that?

It was really important to me to write the novel from different perspectives. I thought that readers needed to walk in each character’s shoes in order to develop empathy for them. You need empathy in order to have mercy, and you need mercy to land on forgiveness, and forgiveness is where I want readers to land at the end of the novel.

Why is forgiveness so important?

I have had really impactful experiences with forgiveness, with being forgiven and forgiving other people. There was one instance where I forgave a couple of people that I’d been trying and failing to forgive for a really long time. One day, it happened in an instant, and I felt this sense of calm and peace. It was such a great feeling; it changed my life for the better, so I knew I wanted to write about it.

How did this particular plotline come to you as a way to write about forgiveness?

I came across news accounts of juvenile fratricide and decided this would be the way to write about forgiveness: by opening the novel with that situation, you are putting the parents in both the very easiest possible position to forgive — because if they don’t forgive the second child, they will lose that child — and the hardest possible position to forgive, because that second child killed their first child. It enabled me to explore how messy and complicated and hard forgiveness can be, and yet how beneficial it is.

You captured small-town dynamics impeccably. Your characters are thoroughly entangled, yet there are aspects of estrangement too.

Well, I grew up in a very small town in central Pennsylvania. I also lived in New York City, which can have small communities within it, for eight years. Even schools can be small towns. I thought that placing the novel in a small town was a great way to show how judgmental and unforgiving people can be. I was also writing during COVID, and when I looked around at that time, it seemed like our world was very unforgiving. A small-town setting was one way to communicate the unforgiving nature of our world.

I didn’t want to wake up when I was 80 and say, ‘Gosh, I wish I would have tried to write that book.’

You were a lawyer. How did you make the transition to author?

I tried to write books several times before this one! The first time, I was on maternity leave with my first son, and I thought, “I have three whole months. Why don’t I just write a book?” As you can imagine, that didn’t happen. I was an overwhelmed first-time mother. Ten years later, with both kids in grade school, I tried again. But I did not have the energy to be a full-time lawyer, a full-time mother and a writer. I know that there are lots of people who can make that work, but I was not one of them. Then one day, when the kids were in high school, I happened into a free writing class, just a two-hour class in this little garden, and I came out of it totally rejuvenated. I realized that the reason I had been trying and failing for so many years was partly because I had never taken a creative writing class and didn’t have a writing community. So, while I was still a lawyer, I set about fixing that. I started taking evening classes, took the idea of a novel off the table, and focused on short stories. I realized that I could sit down on a Saturday and do my writing homework, focus for 12 hours, and be perfectly content. But if you took a picture of me in my office while I was lawyering, I was clock-watching all day.

A sign, perhaps?

I was at a point in my life where I needed to not be a lawyer anymore. I needed to do something different. I didn’t want to wake up when I was 80 and say, “Gosh, I wish I would have tried to write that book.” I wrote this novel pretty quickly: Start to finish, including my research, took about 11 months. I was ready. I had everything in my head, and writing was what I did that year.

Were there particular experiences at Exeter that shaped you?

So many! I recently came across a journal that I kept during a prep-year English class. (I did not save my chemistry and math notebooks, but I saved all my English notebooks.) In this journal, I had to write about something that was important to me, and I wrote about my grandparents’ basement, and I remember trying to be creative as I wrote. All my Exeter English teachers shaped my writing, my analysis of texts and my willingness to think creatively; that has been a huge help for my writing and my communication skills. And Exeter made me a very independent person. It shaped me into someone willing to take risks. You have to do that at Exeter: you’re on your own to some extent as a young person, and you have to make decisions, try new things. I pursued activities totally new to me, like water polo and weightlifting. Exeter was about making choices to always do something new.

Did your background in law inform your writing?

I was a trust-and-estates lawyer, not a criminal defense lawyer, so I had to do quite a bit of research to write the novel. That included perusing the websites of various juvenile detention centers and reading the handbooks they give to the juveniles they house. I connected with two criminal defense attorneys who represent juveniles — they answered question after question — and I watched the trial of a juvenile for assault. Also, my own legal work was complicated, so clarity was important — clarity and efficiency with words. I became known as the person who could cut more words than anybody else. I love words, effective words — that’s definitely been incorporated into my novel.

What are you working on now?

I’m writing my next novel, and I’ve started a Substack about second acts because I’ve had so many people come up to me and say, “How did you have the courage to do something different?” I didn’t need courage; it was more that I would have been afraid to not do this new thing. I encourage people all the time to not be afraid of doing something in the second — or third, or fourth — act of their life. You can be 25 and decide, “I think I want to go down a different career path.” You can make that decision when you’re 38 or 47 or 55. Having that freedom to really grow and change and evolve — that freedom is a good thing.

Daneet Steffens ’82 is a books-focused journalist. She has contributed to The Exeter Bulletin since 2013.

This article was originally published in the summer 2025 edition of The Exeter Bulletin.

2025 Graduation Remarks

Members of the Class of 2025:

It is now my honor and privilege to deliver a farewell address.

First, parents and families, thank you for giving your children the opportunity to receive an Exeter education. You have given them a great gift. Along the way, you have made many sacrifices. Thank you for entrusting your children to our care, for supporting them during their time here, and for being here today to celebrate all that they have accomplished. You have every reason to be happy and proud of these young adults who are about to become the newest members of our alumni community.

One of my strongest memories from my own graduation was a brief conversation my father and I had with my lacrosse coach after the ceremony. Coach Seabrooke spoke about my contributions to the team and perhaps said something about my leadership. I don’t recall his exact words, but it meant a lot to me, and I think it meant a lot to my father who had never seen me play here. Parents, I hope you have enjoyed many similar conversations with teachers, coaches and other mentors over the last couple of days, and perhaps you will have more such opportunities during lunch after this ceremony.

And now, to members of the Class of 2025, let me say first – congratulations. You have seized every opportunity presented to you during your time here, and you have met every challenge. You have thrived in your classes, clubs, athletics, the visual and performing arts, community service, leadership roles, and in many other ways. In short, you have succeeded at Phillips Exeter Academy. Because of what you have learned and how you have grown, you are ready for what lies ahead, in college and beyond.

John and Elizabeth Phillips founded our school in 1781 because they believed youth was the critical period in a person’s development. They believed that if youth from every quarter were imbued with knowledge and goodness at this school, then they would go out and improve their communities and create a better world. We hold to that belief today. I believe that every one of you can and will find ways to make a positive difference in the world, on whatever scale you choose, and in whatever ways you choose.

There is no doubt that we live in a world where there is a pressing need for more citizens and leaders who focus on bringing people together, seeing our common humanity, finding common ground, and building a better world for all to enjoy. We see this need on every level – locally, regionally, and globally.

With that thought in mind, I would like to share three thoughts with you this morning that I believe will serve you well as you go forward in life.

1. Non Sibi

First, I hope you will always keep the words non sibi in your hearts and minds. These words were inscribed on our school seal in 1782 because they represent the very spirit and purpose of our school. Non sibi. Not for oneself.

We are an independent school with a public purpose: to unite goodness and knowledge and inspire youth from every quarter to lead purposeful lives.

We boldly proclaim that we seek to graduate students who are motivated by their concern for others and the world around them, and who understand that an Exeter education is an extraordinary gift to be used for the benefit of others as well as for oneself. We seek to graduate students who are motivated by this philosophy to confront the challenges of their day and who strive to make the world a better place not just for some, but for all.

You have demonstrated a commitment to non sibi during your time here, in the many ways you have contributed to the life of our school, and in the many ways you have supported each other. You have understood that when we balance our needs with the needs of others – that is when we are our best selves. You are ready to carry this forward.

Just as non sibi is the guiding spirit and ethos of our school, I hope non sibi will be a guiding principle for you in the years ahead and throughout your lives.

2. Humility and Kindness

Second, I hope you will stay humble and act always with kindness toward others.

Wherever you find yourselves next year, people will expect you to be intelligent and capable. They will be watching to see if you are kind and have humility.

One way to think about this is to understand that in life we tend to be known by our nouns, but we are appreciated and remembered for our adjectives. Our nouns are sometimes beyond our control. We don’t always get the job, promotion or award that we seek. But our adjectives are within our control. We can always be kind and humble. We can choose to persevere in the face of disappointment, and act with grace in moments of triumph. We can choose to be respectful toward others, and we can decide every day how we want to make others feel. In making these choices, we reveal our character. In making these choices, you will reveal your goodness.

You will recall that at opening assembly I talked about seeking complex truths. Humility is critical here as well, as it opens the door to listening to others with curiosity, empathy and respect; to being open to different points of view; to being comfortable engaging across differences and to having courageous conversations about difficult subjects. I described these as Harkness skills, and as goodness and knowledge skills. These skills, while essential to your learning at Exeter, also will provide the foundation for everything you do and everything you will accomplish in life.

Humility and kindness will make you more effective advocates for the kind of world you want to live in.

3. Gratitude

Lastly, I would like to offer a few words about gratitude.

I hope you leave here today with feelings of joy in all that you have accomplished. I hope you feel pride in being part of a school where hard work is valued, where teachers and coaches challenge you to be your best, and where students delight in each other’s successes and accomplishments. I hope you feel prepared for what lies ahead, and confident that the bonds of friendship forged here will endure for your lifetimes.

But on top of all that, I hope you leave today with a deep sense of gratitude. Gratitude for the education that you have received, for the many transformative experiences that you have enjoyed, and for the friendships gained along the way. Gratitude to all who have supported you during your time here – your families, teachers, advisers, mentors, and all others who have helped or cared for you in any way, including those who have worked largely behind the scenes.

I hope your gratitude extends to prior generations of teachers and Exonians who have helped create and shape the Exeter of today, and who have thereby made your experiences at Exeter possible. In this way, I also hope you will come to appreciate your place in the history of our great school.

While it might be hard to imagine today, in time you will have opportunities to help us consider and decide how Exeter needs to continue to evolve to be the best Exeter that we can be. Prior generations of Exonians have done this throughout the history of our school. This will be a form of non sibi born of your gratitude for your time here.

Non sibi, humility and kindness, and gratitude – one can readily see they fit together nicely. You will aim high in life, as you have aimed high in coming here, but

If you are motivated by your concern for others and the world around you,
if you act with humility and kindness toward others, and
if you remain grateful to those who have helped you along the way, and to those who have opened paths that you now travel,

then you will be well on your way to leading purposeful lives.

Acting in this way will not diminish the challenges of our day, which are considerable and many – we know that. These qualities will not shield you from disappointment, nor guarantee success. But they will strengthen your sense of purpose, help you confront the challenges that you see, and help you lift those around you who are in need.

You might ask: will doing these things really help me change the world that so badly needs changing? I say in return, start with the sphere of influence that you have. If you treat others with respect and gain their trust, your sphere of influence will grow. If you stay true to your principles, your sphere of influence will continue to grow, you will be asked to take on more responsibility, in time you will be asked to lead. You will have opportunities to make a positive difference in the lives of others, in ways that you cannot even begin to imagine now.

And keep in mind, every time you change one person’s life, for that person, you have quite literally changed the world.

In closing, I want to say I have great affection for the Class of 2025. I have enjoyed watching you have fun, find joy, thrive, and make lifelong friends. It will be exciting to see what paths you choose in life and what adventures you enjoy along the way. I hope you will return often to share your stories with your teachers and future generations of students.

It will be deeply meaningful to your teachers and other mentors to be reminded of how they have impacted your lives during your time here. It will be equally meaningful to future generations of Exeter students to hear your stories and be inspired by your examples.

To the Class of 2025, I wish you success in all your future endeavors. You will always be the great Class of 2025. You will always belong to each other, and you will always belong here.

Congratulations!

                Family, friends and faculty celebrate graduating seniors in the Academy’s 244th year.

            

Spring sunshine bathed the Academy Lawn as Exeter parents, family members, friends and faculty gathered to send off members of the graduating class of 2025.

After Principal Bill Rawson ’71; P’08 opened the graduation ceremony, Ava Helbig, president of the senior class, expressed gratitude to family members of the graduates who had traveled to campus. She also thanked members of Exeter’s staff, including the facilities and dining teams, who supported senior week and graduation.

“To the class of 2025, congratulations,” Helbig told her classmates. “It may have been a long road, but we’ve made it.” She “expressed gratitude to family members of the graduates who had traveled to campus or were watching the ceremony online.”

In her address, Helbig spoke of the inevitability of change in life, and the human tendency to resist it. In the past weeks, she said, she had been conscious of doing various things knowing that it would be her last time doing them at Exeter.

“Why is it that we never treasure what we have until we’ve lost it?” she asked, then urged her fellow seniors to savor each moment.

“There is beauty in every soul on this lawn, [and] in every moment we get to live through,” Helbig said. “If you feel even a little bit brave, you might even join me in loosening the reins you have ensnared time in and — even if only for a moment — letting time pass.”

After Helbig’s address, Principal Rawson recognized the two retiring faculty members seated on stage: Kitty Fair, who joined the Modern Languages Department 41 years ago, and Dale Braille, who taught in the Science Department for 28 years.

Principal’s remarks

In his farewell to the class of 2025, Principal Rawson congratulated the seniors. “You have seized every opportunity presented to you during your time here, and you have met every challenge,” he said. “Because of what you have learned and how you have grown, you are ready for what lies ahead, in college and beyond.”

Rawson spoke of the Academy’s core value of non sibi, and how the seniors had demonstrated a commitment to this principle in how they contributed to the life of the school, as well in how they supported each other. “You have understood that when we balance our needs with the needs of others — that is when we are our best selves,” he said.

Rawson advised the class of 2025 to “stay humble and always act with kindness toward others” in their lives after Exeter. Such qualities, he said, would “make you more effective advocates for the kind of world you want to live in.” In addition, he said he hoped they would leave Exeter with a deep sense of gratitude, not only to those who had supported them during their time at the Academy but also to the earlier generations of faculty and Exonians “who have helped create and shape the Exeter of today, and who have thereby made your experiences at Exeter possible.”

Living by the values of non sibi, humility, kindness and gratitude, Rawson admitted, “will not diminish the challenges of our day, which are considerable and many.” But those values would, he said, enable seniors to better confront challenges in their own lives, help lift people around them and live the purposeful lives Exeter had sought to prepare them for.

“If you stay true to your principles, your sphere of influence will continue to grow, [and] you will be asked to take on more responsibility,” Rawson said. “You will have opportunities to make a positive difference in the lives of others, in ways you cannot even begin to imagine now.”

In closing, Rawson expressed his affection for the class of 2025, as well as his excitement to see what paths in life they would follow and hear the stories they would share with future generations of Exonians.

“You will always be the great class of 2025,” the principal said. “You will always belong to each other, and you will always belong here.”

"You will always belong to each other, and you will always belong here.

Principal Rawson

Honors and Special Awards

After Helbig’s welcome to families, Dean of Faculty Eimer Page P’22 and President of the Trustees Kristyn MacLeod Van Ostern ’96 presented this year’s endowed college scholarships, as well as the commencement awards and prizes. In what is believed to be a first, four students were awarded the Faculty Prize for Academic Excellence. The award is bestowed on the student of highest rank. The prize committee examined ways to make distinctions in the students’ course of study and found no clear separation between them.

The Faculty Prize for Academic Excellence: Alexandra Meyer, Dhruv Nagarajan, Jaansi Patel, Shiqiao Zhang

The Cox Medals: Alexandra Meyer, Dhruv Nagarajan, Jaansi Patel, Elizabeth Pratt, Shiqiao Zhang

The Yale Cup: Jaylen Bennett

The Ruth and Paul Sadler ’23 Cup: Grace Benson

The Perry Cup: Caspar Bailey

The Williams Cup: Byran Huang

The Eskie Clark Award: Jannah Maguire

The Thomas H. Cornell Award: Anna Holtz

The Multicultural Leadership Prize: Eliana Hall

Graduation program

A string quartet consisting of seniors Lucy Previn, Ethan Ding and Davido Zhang, as well as Evan Fang ’26, played during the prelude and processional that began the graduation exercises.

Before Rawson’s remarks, seniors in Exeter’s Concert Choir performed “The Road Home,” composed by Stephen Paulus. Led by Music Instructor Kris Johnson, the choral group included Samaria Benochi, Amelia Berger, Bryan Chen, Elizabeth Christiansen, Aymeric Dauge-Roth, Preeti Jain, Lucy Jung, Roy Liu, Max Mantel, Jordan McConnell, Emma Sordi, Benjamin Soriano, Paco Sze, Hemani Stallard and Kamara Williams.

Seniors Phin Gibbs, Lucy Jung, Roy Liu and Nettie Rattray helped Rawson hand out diplomas to the graduating seniors, while Class Marshals Rima Alsheikh, Max Albinson, Mya Scott and Altan Ünver escorted their fellow members of the Class of 2025 to their seats before the ceremony.

Read Principal Rawson’s full graduation remarks here.

Scenes from graduation 2025

A tradition of caring

It is our custom at Exeter to publish a Memorial Minute when an emeritus faculty member dies. These are read in their entirety in faculty meeting and published in condensed form in the Bulletin. You will find a Memorial Minute for Jack Heath, instructor emeritus in English, included in this issue.

These are deeply moving tributes. We often are surprised to learn about aspects of a former faculty member’s life that we did not know, and amused by the anecdotes that former colleagues tell. Perhaps more than anything, we are inspired by the stories alumni share about the way their lives were impacted by their former teachers.

Alumni describe how these faculty members demanded the best of their students, helped them grow in confidence, and in many cases helped them develop passions that they carried forward in college and beyond. I have contributed a few stories myself about the way Exeter teachers affected my life as a student. Fundamentally, the alumni stories included in Memorial Minutes show how Exeter faculty care for and about their students. We are moved by these stories, and we are inspired to do all we can to have similar impacts on the lives of our students today.

Teachers, of course, are not the only adults on our campus who influence our students in positive and profound ways. During my Senior year, my dormmates and I were told that Dunbar Hall would be closed midyear for renovation and that we would be distributed across several other dormitories. My group, headed for Peabody Hall, had just one question: “Who gets Mr. Johnson?” Mr. Johnson was our custodian, and it meant a lot to us when we learned that he would be working in Peabody with us.

For three years, Eddie Wilber handed me my gym clothes before every soccer, hockey and lacrosse practice, and he gave me my uniform on game days. Mr. Wilber knew my name and he knew my size. He made me feel good about myself, and good about being at Exeter. I think of him every time I see the plaque that bears his name by the equipment room in the gym.

Dr. Heyl stitched me up after I took a skate in the eye during my Lower year. To this day, I don’t understand how he managed to do that without leaving any visible evidence of a scar. It was a pretty serious injury, but he made me relax and feel as if everything was going to be OK. He did more than close the wound; he took all the worry out of the experience. He cared.

Alumni across all generations have similar stories to tell about adults who were important to them during their time at Exeter — teachers and other adults who touched their lives in important ways and who made them feel at home when far away from home.

Our school’s mission is to “unite goodness and knowledge and inspire youth from every quarter to lead purposeful lives.” The adults in our community — in whatever capacity they serve — lead purposeful lives right here, as they care for our students and prepare them to lead their own purposeful lives. New stories are created every year. It all starts with caring.

I, Too, Miss Rice

Finis Origine Pendet

Yoon moved into the room across from mine, the second international student in our dorm. I was the first; packed up my life in Shanghai and came here for boarding school two years ago. Yoon often sat alone at lunch, staring at the rotisserie chicken before returning it barely touched. One night, I ordered from Kaju and knocked on his door.

His desk was cluttered with empty Haitai chip bags.

“Kimchi soup and rice?” I asked.

The umami smell filled the room.

Yoon suddenly said, “I miss rice,” and burst into tears.

I nodded, shoving a chopsticks-full in my mouth.

Oscar Zhu ’27 is in his lower year at the Academy. This piece was originally published in The New York Times on February 13, 2025, as one of 20 winners in the paper’s third annual 100-Word Personal Narrative Contest.

This article was first published in the spring 2025 issue of The Exeter Bulletin.

John Bascom Heath: A Memorial Minute

John Bascom Heath was born in 1923 in Lawrenceville, New Jersey to Mary Darwin and Harley Willis Heath. Jack grew up on the campus of the Lawrenceville School from which he graduated and where his father taught science for many years. His undergraduate career at Yale was interrupted by a three-year stint in the military where he rose to the rank of Staff Sergeant in Patton’s Third Army and earned the Bronze Star. He graduated Phi Beta Kappa from Yale in 1946 and began his teaching career, first at Exeter in 1947 and then at Germantown Academy for one year, before returning to Exeter for good in 1949. For nearly 40 years, Jack certainly was a force for good at the Academy.

Principal Kendra Stearns O’Donnell described his exemplary service at Exeter as “rooted on traditional school ground: the classroom, the dormitory, the playing fields.” He was the “consummate school man.” History instructor Jack Herney recalls the figure Jack cut on campus: with his “rumpled sartorial style. . . he looked the picture of the absentminded, disheveled but wise savant.” Heath once wrote that “teaching, coaching, and doing dorm and committee work are demanding; but we do get good vacations, and ought to work hard in term time. The happiest people,” he continued, “work the hardest, or, to put it a better way, are the most involved, and I think the involvement causes rather than results from the happiness.” Jack was certainly involved at the Academy and in the Exeter community at large. By his own accounting, then, Jack was a very happy man, always looking to “put” the world he inhabited “a better way.”

Jack’s numerous titles at the Academy reflect the range of his contributions. He was appointed the Thomas S. and Elinor B. Lamont Professor of English. He served as English Department Chair from 1973-1983, the Dean of Faculty from 1983-1987, and Acting Principal for one year when Principal Stephen Kurtz took a sabbatical. From 1956-1971 he was varsity head coach of the soccer team, where his wing players would often hear him shouting “Gotta have it” from the sidelines, pushing them to hustle after every ball. He also coached basketball and baseball, serving as Commissioner of Club Baseball from 1962 1973. He spent the 1967-1968 school year teaching in Barcelona, Spain with the School Year Abroad program. Jack also served as adviser to the Exonian and on countless committees: the Academy Planning Committee, the Faculty Affairs Committee, the Appointments and Leaves Committee, and the Student-Faculty Committee on Student Life, to name just a few. He received the Faculty Prize for Academic Excellence in 1967 and the Rupert Radford Faculty Fellowship Award for distinguished and faithful service in 1988. It is no wonder that Jack was also an honorary member of the Class of 1952 and was recognized in 1991 with the Founders’ Day Award.

Jack was also a distinguished public servant in the town of Exeter, and he was once called “the most respected man in town.” He and his wife Patty ran the Cub Scouts for two decades. Jack brought soccer to Exeter, founding the first youth soccer program and introducing it to Exeter school system. He was a School Board member, spokesperson for the Exeter Voter League, president of the Rockingham County Trust, secretary and board member of the New Hampshire Farm Museum, and Secretary of the Exeter River Watershed Association. He served in the New Hampshire House of Representatives, as well.

For many summers he ran Kamp Kill Kare, a summer camp for boys in St. Albans, VT, where his father had also worked.

After those summers in Vermont, from 1979-1983, Jack worked as director of the Exeter Writing Project, a precursor to many of our summer institutes for educators. Barbara Ganley, an attendee who was also a former student of Jack’s at the Academy, describes his impact in that summer program:

And so once again I became his student, but this time of his secrets to teaching. How unexpected. How remarkable. He likened teaching to coaching sports, helping students learn to love the practice, to open up the sentence itself to learn about the full essay. Just as a pitcher throws pitch after lousy pitch day after day to get any good – a writer must stand out in that field to be struck by lightning.

On the practice field of Jack’s English classroom, students encountered a teacher who pushed and encouraged them to stand out in that field day after day. He held his students to high standards, and his compassion guided them to become more competent writers and more perceptive readers. Philip H. Loughlin ’57 credits Jack for instilling in him a lifelong love of literature. And Tom Gross ’70 shares that Jack “was always very kind to me and seemed to take a genuine interest in trying to help a not-very-good student.”

Reflecting on her time as a Prep in Jack’s English class, Barbara Ganley shares: “Without him, I wouldn’t have made it through my Prep year much less go on to teach writing or to become a writer myself. . . . [A]s I sit at my writing desk, I remember his urging me to reach for a sentence as clean as a bone. To work for it. And of his quiet encouragement that of course I could do it.” Vinson Bankoski ’81 recalled similar guidance.

“Mr. Heath’s English class,” he writes, “helped me identify what Exeter was really about and why I was really there.” After reading aloud in class a draft of a paper he had written about his grandfather who recently passed away, Vinson took in Jack’s feedback and sat down to work at his revision:

Jack’s son Sam relates the experiences of author Dan Brown ’82 his Lower year in Jack’s class. On Dan’s first composition, alongside the red C-minus, Jack had written in all capital letters “KEEP IT SIMPLE.” This was Jack’s “essential philosophy,” Sam explains. You can hear echoes of that philosophy each fall when Dan Brown speaks to the Prep class about writing.

“Sometimes,” Jack wrote in 1956, “when a class is just right – the boys are attentive, even the silent member of the class has something to say, and the bell rings unnoticed, [I am] sure there is no better way to make a living.” Other former students recall Jack’s sense of humor. David Lamb ’58 visited campus on a whim while passing through in 1981, twenty-three years after he had been kicked out during his senior year for running a gambling ring in his dormitory. David, a successful journalist at the time, was invited to sit in on a faculty meeting. He writes: “Several heads, now covered with gray hair or little hair, turned toward my seat in the back of the room. ‘Why, Lamb,’ said my former English teacher, Mr. Heath, as though he had seen me only yesterday, ‘I thought you’d be at the dog track today.’”

I loved and respected him, not for the 'A' but for making me realize how hard and important it is to write well.

That sense of humor served Jack well in his administrative roles. Former counselor, Mike Diamonti, remembers his interview for a faculty position in 1983: “Knowing I had no prior boarding school experience, Jack explained the core teaching, coaching, and dorm responsibilities. I replied that although I liked sports I had never coached and wasn’t sure I could take on that responsibility, even at the club level. Jack replied by saying, ‘there are only two things you need to know about coaching. When you win you say, coaching shows, and when you lose, you say coaching isn’t everything.’

Former Chief Financial Officer Jim Theisen spoke about working with Jack in the year when Principal Steve Kurtz was on sabbatical, leaving the Academy in Jack’s capable hands. Jim went to Jack on a delicate personnel matter. “Jack listened intently and confirmed it was a big issue,” Thiesen explains. “He said let us both sleep on it and confer tomorrow. I left and slept like a baby knowing it was now on his plate. Returning the next day I could tell him the problem resolved itself and did not need his help. He said, ‘Good, I forgot you talked to me.’ It was the best MBA management lesson I got…and from an English teacher!” Jack Herney confirms that Jack’s style was to “never rush into any decision. He made decisions based on the evidence he had at hand, and he didn’t look back or second-guess himself.”

A father-figure to many students and a mentor to many colleagues, Jack was also a devoted husband and father to four boys. In 1947, he married his beloved wife Patricia Espy Kreutzer. All four Heath sons (Jeffrey ’67, John ’70, Samuel ’72, and Harley ’75) attended the Academy and played varsity soccer. Jack served as dorm head of Wheelwright Hall for twenty-three years. When Jack dug out a piece of lawn in front of the faculty entrance to plant irises, he may have been the first faculty member to plant a garden on campus. Colleagues marveled at his green thumb and stewardship of natural spaces, qualities that guided his work on the first piece of property he ever owned – a house and nine acres in Newfields where the family moved in 1968. “People would be amazed,” Jack once told his son Sam, “at what happens when you put a seed in the ground and you water it.”

One of the seeds that was planted for Jack in his youth was the power of community. He lost both of his parents by the time he was eighteen, and the Lawrenceville School community was there for him. As you have heard this morning, Jack brought his full self to serve the Academy community. One Thursday morning as he neared retirement, Jack opened up to the community in a Meditation delivered in Phillips Church on December 10, 1987. He spoke of his relationship with death, referring to himself throughout in the third person:

I have a dear friend who all his life has known that he is going to die. At age twelve he learned that mothers die of breast cancer, and at eighteen that fathers die of strokes. By the time he was eighteen, two of his high school classmates had already been shot down flying in the Canadian Royal Air Force. . . . A man in his sixties is a fool not to realize he is going to die. Most of the time my friend. . . knows it logically but not emotionally. He does not constantly or often think about death in the abstract or even of his impending death. For example, on the day he suddenly and soberly realized that he had lived longer than his father, he went out into his woods as usual, as he had done four or five times a week for ten years, even in winter, and worked for an hour or two by himself chain-sawing red-oak logs and hauling them out by hand one at a time to the sunning place. He is a quiet but serious woodsman—a pure amateur who believes in self-sufficiency without land-abuse, and in silent, solitary meditation….. But now when he is about to go out in the woodlot to cut and haul firewood he tells his wife that he is going out. Or, if she is not home yet, he leaves a note on the clipboard in the kitchen: ‘in woods sawing 2:45.’ He could not have done that ten years before. And even now he thinks it more considerate than practical. She worries about chainsaws.

Whether he was caring for his family, students, colleagues, town, country, or for the land, Jack committed his whole self. He believed, Sam tells us, that we “must accept people as they are” and “hold everyone,” including ourselves, “to the highest standards of integrity.” In closing, an image of Jack moving between the work that he loved seems fitting. This, too, comes from his son, Sam: “How many times did I watch him come home between classes, switch into muddy overalls, and hoe a few rows of beans or take down a couple of trees before putting back on his khakis, tying his bow tie, and returning to campus for a 5:25 class. He never raced, he puttered, with purpose, and he finished what he began.”

Jack died May 28, 2018, at the age of 95. He is survived by his sons Jeffrey, of Ann Arbor MI and Bobo-Dioulasso, Burkina Faso; Samuel, of Exeter, with Sandra del Alczaar and their children Aymara and Santiago; and Harley, of Wolfeboro NH, with Stacey Lessard and his children Rory and Addie.

I move that this Memorial Minute be spread upon the minutes of the faculty and a copy sent to the family.

Respectfully submitted,

Brooks Moriarty

This Memorial Minute was first published in the spring 2025 issue of The Exeter Bulletin.

Spring break, world edition

Students expand their horizons and perspectives on travel trips

All told, 85 students plus faculty members traveled together over March break to learn and grow.

One group explored Andean culture in the Secret Valley of Peru while another headed to the nation’s capital to learn about programs that address poverty, food access, housing and homelessness. In Alabama, a group studied civil rights, justice and the ongoing legacy of slavery. Latin and Greek students visited the ancient cities, temples, amphitheaters and markets of Sicily and Campania where the primary Latin and ancient Greek authors they study lived or worked.

But the most vocal group of Exonians of them all was the Concert Choir. Thirty-nine students and Music Instructor Kris Johnson made a weeklong trek through Northern Italy. Stopping in Florence, Verona, Mantua and Venice, the group performed in stunning venues along the way — all while exploring both historic and contemporary Italian art, cuisine and culture. Hear their voices and see more behind the scenes from the trip on their Instagram – @PEA_Choir_Italy.

In total, five groups traveled to Washington, D.C., Montgomery, Alabama, Northern Italy, Sicily and Campania and Machu Picchu, Peru. Swipe through to see photos from the trips.

This article was originally published in the spring 2025 edition of The Exeter Bulletin.

Behind the scenes of the winter term musical

“New England winters are tough,” says Lauren Josef, chair of the Theater and Dance Department. “We need joy. We need weird.” Exeter’s performance of The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee brought all that and more to The David E. and Stacey L. Goel Center for Theater and Dance. The fast-paced and riotous musical featured six “middle schoolers” and audience participants who spelled their way through vexing vocabulary while sharing hilarious and poignant personal stories.

“I think one of the reasons this show has felt so special is because early on we said, ‘This is not going to be a traditional show,’ ” says Josef, the production’s director. “We told the students: ‘You’re going to be interacting with the audience. You might be throwing things. You’re going to be in character preshow and bringing everybody into this environment.”

Delivering such an immersive experience took creativity and collaboration. Here’s a behind-the-scenes look at the way the show took shape.

SETTING THE SCENE

Instructor in Theater and Dance Anthony Reed, the show’s technician, set designer and lighting designer, created an immersive environment outside and inside the Goel Center’s mainstage theater. “The phrase that we were working off of was ‘absurdity that looks like reality,’ ” he says. “Everything is just a little bit cartoonish, almost like a long-form SNL skit.” Reed designed the set to look like a middle school gym with lighting fixtures, a basketball court, even a Lost and Found bin. He also created the Screamin’ Squirrels mascot for the fictional school.

Student actors interact with the live audience.

AUDIENCE IMMERSION

Some attendees were seated onstage (on bleachers hauled in from Hatch Field) and called to participate in the spelling bee. Student performers walked through the theater seating area, breaking the “fourth wall.”

CREW WARDROBE

Working with Instructor in Art Heather Hernon, Reed designed and screen-printed T-shirts for the crew.

STAGE

To make the stage look like a basketball court, Reed built a center circle that extended into the audience. He also hand-painted the floor to resemble hardwood. Visiting alumna Emma Aldrich Jordan ’17 pitched in to help. As a student, Jordan was a stage manager. She is now a scenic painter and props artisan.

MUSIC

With audience seating in the orchestra pit, Instructor in Music Kristofer Johnson and six musicians performed on stage. Computer monitors streamed live video of Johnson’s conducting so the actors could follow his direction. “The characters needed to be able to know when to sing or when to stop,” Reed says.

SOUND

“Each student actor has a body mic, so there are 22 mics,” Josef says. “ We have one student [Audrey Dent ’25] who is mixing. Audrey has to listen carefully. If one student is being especially quiet during a scene or especially loud, she is live-mixing that. And then we have another sound person backstage, Angelina Wang ’27. If something malfunctions, if we need to fix a microphone, she fixes that.”

APPLIED SCIENCE

“A lot of the work that we do relies on computer science, on physics and these different technologies that students are learning about in the classroom,” Reed says. “In theater tech, they get to see how the light at a different angle is going to cast a pool of light on the stage and how big that pool will be. These are real-life applications for a lot of things they are learning.”

LIGHTING

Light operator Jiayu Wang ’25 was tasked with about 200 lighting cues: visual indicators to the performers that specific actions are supposed to happen at precise times. During the performance, actors rely on prompts to hit their marks and keep the show running smoothly. “So much of the storytelling in this show relies on lights,” Josef says. “Tony has a really stark difference between what the lighting looks like when you’re in the real world and in the character’s mind.”

Instructors in Theater Lauren Josef and Anthony Reed stand in the lighting and sound booth.

By the numbers

hours to paint a gym floor onstage

cast and crew members

body microphones

200

lighting cues

minutes running time

Inside the classroom of Meg Foley, the Michael Ridder, class of 1958, distinguished professor in history

You would forgive Meg Foley if at some point during the next academic year she started her workday by walking to the northeast corner of the Academy Building — and into somebody else’s classroom. That kind of muscle memory develops from teaching in the same space for nearly two and a half decades.

But in July, Foley will transition to a new role, dean of faculty, and away from her corner room with the views into two quads. “I’ve had the chance to switch rooms over time, but I’ve always stuck with this room because I love the classic features,” she says. “And I love the vantage point. As people are leaving the building, especially after assembly, students or colleagues from other departments will pop in to chat. I’ll really miss that.”

Foley says she’ll also miss those moments of connection around the Harkness table, where — for 50 minutes each class — everything outside Room 030 fades away and meaningful discussion takes over.

“There are various tributes to my home state of Minnesota sprinkled around the room. I’ve got the ‘Purple Rain’ cover of The New Yorker from when Prince died, the Minnesota Twins Homer Hanky and Boundary Waters prayer flags.”

“These maps are so old; this one is from 1954. The country borders have changed, of course, but when you’re teaching history, that can be useful! They’re so fragile, I’m always worried that they’re going to rip.”

“I like to have a few little toys out that kids will sometimes play with or just hold while they’re talking or at the table. I started the course Why Are Poor Nations Poor? and a student who lived in Bangladesh came back from winter break and brought me this tiny rickshaw. She told me all about the marketplace where she bought it and the artisan who had made and sold it to her. So much of her story aligned with themes in the course.”

“These are document readers for two courses, one from 1998 and one from this year. With our teaching, there’s kind of a lineage to it. You start by working with somebody off of their syllabus and then you make changes and adjustments and slowly it becomes your own. Or maybe you make a radical break and it becomes your own suddenly. Then someone else starts teaching the course and you share your syllabus with them and they make their additions and you add some of their additions to your own. When you look back at these readers, you can see that lineage.”