Hartwick College
Most educators would like to know how the lives of their former students (or at least most of them) proceeded. Former students are incomplete stories. It is of course impossible over decades in education to remember then all but the names and images of a remarkable number do stick, I guess for life. Those in memory are associated with academic performance, some particular event or had a facet of personality that was engaging. I would like to know what came next - how did they play the hand life dealt them.
There are many former students about whom I know what happened. Wit * for instance was a fine undergraduate - intelligent and conscientious. I remember him sitting in my office explaining how he would deal with a particular project and thinking, "My God but he is organized!" Wit was also an extremely nice guy. In our last meeting at Hartwick College he informed me he had been accepted into a training program with the Small Business Administration. I congratulated him and we parted company. After more than 30 years we reconnected for lunch. At SBA Wit had just retired from a position that gave him responsibility for a hunk of the north eastern seaboard. I met his wife, we reviewed the decades and it was fun. Wit was still the fine person I had known. For me it was most satisfying.
There are many about whom I know nothing and am enormously interested in discovering - what happened? A few examples: Gerry sent me a note post marked Saudi Arabia during Operation Desert Shield. He informed me that after graduation he had joined the Army and was sent to language school to learn Arabic. Now armed with a liberal arts education and basic Arabic he was assigned to a 101st Airborne unit. There job was to establish roadblocks and Gerry's job was to be one of the first soldiers to board a stopped bus for inspection. Gerry wrote, (paraphrase) "Professor I want you to know that I am sometimes nervous, careful, but I treat EVERYONE on board with GREAT RESPECT!" Knowing Gerry I could not imagine him doing otherwise. But how did his tour end? What did he do next?
Chris graduated and joined the Peace Corps. After training he was assigned to a nation in West Africa. One day he took time to write me a note, (paraphrase) "Dear Professor John O, - It is hot as hell. I am sitting on the ground in the shade of a hut writing. I have just completed an exhausting morning helping people make mud bricks. How did I get into this situation? I think I hold you partially responsible!" But what did Chris and his friends do with those mud bricks? What did Chris do after Africa? Keith, another graduate also went to West Africa in the Peace Corps. A reserved young man he had a sense of humor similar to Chris, Keith was assigned to teach sex education. "Observea vous! "La condom!" I do know that Keith became a great public school teacher.
I did not know Taylor well. He was a first year student I selected to participate in my New York City program. He came from a small community on Oneida Lake in central New York State. Taylor was a smart, quiet product of upstate. The program was ten weeks in duration and the twenty-five students were housed in a five story dorm on East 72nd Street owned by the about to be extinct Finch College. This was Taylor's first visit to "The City". It did not take him long to adjust. An afternoon four weeks after arrival I emerged from the Lexington Ave Subway station near our residence. There was Taylor leaning against a nearby wall - his new leathery look suggested the shops of East 8th Street in Greenwich Village and in his ear a silver loop. Taylor was involved in a discussion - providing lengthy subway directions to an upscale couple. I was momentarily shocked by his new found understanding of the NYC subway system and yes, his attire. We nodded as I passed. Clearly New York had launched a refurbished and confident Taylor. At the end of the term Taylor transferred from Hartwick to a college on the west coast with a visual arts program. Two years later a piece of his work was part of an exhibition at Hartwick's Anderson Center for the Arts. Where is Taylor today and what is he doing? Where are those tourists? Are they still trying to find a way out of the subway system?
Deborah, a black student, intelligent, engaging personality and beautiful - Halle Berryish - she had it all. Shortly after graduation in May I was driving down Dietz Street in Oneonta, N.Y.. On the sidewalk to my right I saw the back of a GI walking along totting a duffel bag. As I drove by I heard "Professor Lindell! Professor Lindell! - Goodbye! Goodbye!" I glimpsed over and saw Deborah in camouflage fatigues, field cap and duffel bag.
"She's in the ARMY!" I slammed the brakes to avoid a crash - then continued through an intersection. For the rest of my life I shall regret not turning that damn car around, going back and offering her a ride to the bus station. And what came next for Deborah?
* In my classes over the years I referred to students individually as "Mr. surname", "Mrs.", "Miss" and in later years "Ms".
I liked the formality and respect conveyed. Now in pieces that refer to former students I use only first names for privacy reasons. In addition I might use the wrong name. For over 30 years I kept a careful paper record of the performance of each student in every class; test scores, research grades, attendance. For off campus programs there were additional notes for each student - how each performed in the USSR, Japan, New York and a flood disaster research project in New York State's southern tier. Around 1995, an administrative department at Hartwick College asked to borrow my student file. I agreed. The department took my files, used them and then had the files shredded. I had no duplicates. Some may cheer especially privacy advocates. But if in a past, present or future piece I use a wrong name I have no one to blame but my own naivety, lack of foresight or failing memory.
