As bleary-eyed seniors slowly arrived at Alumni Walk on Commencement morning, ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½ multimedia producer Theophil Syslo was there, inviting them to pose for slow-motion video portraits.

Slow no more! They stepped right up, exhibiting unfiltered excitement and pride as they posed, individually and with friends, in front of a backdrop set up on Alumni Walk.

The setting creates “a frame within a frame,” Syslo says. “It’s kind of like preparing a small stage for a performance and a fun way to engage with students for one last moment before they move on with their journey.”

This year’s Baccalaureate speaker is described as a “mythical wise wizard, like Gandalf the Grey — effusive and emphatically excited.”

That’s only partly why the Class of 2023 chose Christopher Schiff, the college’s reference librarian for music and the arts, as their Baccalaureate speaker. Mostly, it was for another quality described by Rev. Brittany Longsdorf, the college’s multifaith chaplain whose office oversees Baccalaureate. 

Schiff, she said in her introduction, is “simply a really, really good listener.â€�

At ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½, the Ladd Library reference desk sits right across from the front entrance of Ladd, so Schiff and his colleagues are familiar faces to ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½ students — not to mention friendly, helpful, and knowledgeable.

Like any good librarian, Schiff offers students the nuts and bolts of finding stuff, “wisdom on how to research, structure, and write about the arts and music,â€� said Longsdorf. 

Watch the ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½ Baccalaureate address by Chris Schiff on May 27, 2023:

“But he also has a boundless tender heart in helping students as they sift through challenging subject matter, which as we all know can often illuminate personal challenges in the process.�

As he took to the lectern on Saturday, Schiff told the seniors that the topics they’ve researched together “have been mind-boggling, everything from secret societies to sacred poetry to the genetics of the taste of cilantro.�

And it’s always been a joy. “I have loved learning from you, and loved even more those moments when you just stopped by to say ‘hi’ or made sure to wave hello across the lobby even though you were rushing to another appointment.â€� 

Schiff and his colleagues serve as reminders that knowledge begins and ends with human connection. “Over the last four years you have paid me the greatest honor that I will ever be paid: You asked me for help when you needed it most, and you put your faith in me that I would help you find the right answer,” said Schiff.

In his address, Schiff used a line from John Fowles’ postmodern novel, The Magus, as his theme: “Which do you drink? The water or the wave?�

“I suspect that you thought that getting an education was going to be like drinking water… sensible and predictable,â€� Schiff said. But of course it was not, mostly because of the tsunami that was COVID.

In high school, when Schiff was asked the water/wave question, he answered, “without any hesitation, that I was going to drink the water.�

And he did. “So long as you ignore the year in the punk band, and dancing in musical theater, and the year on a good old-fashioned assembly line, and the seven or so years washing dishes.”

Every time Schiff tried to reach for a metaphorical glass of water, “the next step in my planned and logical college career, it was a mirage. It would recede into the distance, and instead I would find myself facing chaotic turmoil: the metaphorical wave.â€�

Some of the waves that tossed Schiff about are similar to the ones that have crashed into ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½ seniors. “Lack of money, lack of focus, the need to help family members, a changing world that didn’t seem to value my contribution.â€�

But, he added, “I had it incredibly easy…. I lived in a world where there were answers to some of the difficulties — the waves — that I faced. My deadlines were flexible, so I could wait for my moment. I could call on family and friends for  help when I was out of resources. 

“The wave faced by you, Class of 2023, has been everything I faced plus a multitude of forces  much more powerful than any I have ever experienced.â€�

The lesson lies in realizing that “we don’t get to choose logical progression over chaos,� Schiff told them. “Chaos and turmoil are always around us.� Risk takers might enjoy the wave, but as human beings, we can’t survive on chaos and turmoil alone.

“The only answer to the question, which do you drink, the water or the waves, is that we drink both,� he said. Think of baccalaureate as the wonderful moment on the beach “when the waves crest and begin to break all around us.�

“Remember this feeling,� Schiff said, and paused for a beat.

“The wave is and will be here for you and it is the wave that brings water alive. Drink the wave.�

“A great, unpretentious, family-style Commencement!” is how a livestream viewer from Santa Fe, N.M., described this year’s ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½ graduation ceremony.

The 157th gathering of the ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½ family dawned bright and blue — soon to be hot, in the 80s — as family, friends, and loved ones began to arrive as early as 5 a.m. to secure seating. Graduates-to-be made their way onto Alumni Walk after 8 a.m., some bleary-eyed, some bushy-tailed, but all ready to step onto the Coram Library Terrace, their ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½ diploma awaiting before them.

Here’s how Commencement went, hour by hour, on May 28, 2023.

7:41 a.m. Taking wing

A flock of Canada geese wing their way across campus, a foreshadowing of the upcoming taking-off of the Class of 2023 from their ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½ nest.

7:45 a.m. Sorted, sorters

Associate registrar Zach Dumont (left) and registrar Megan McHenry do a pre-Commencement check on the diplomas, which wait, alphabetically, to be handed to members of the Class of 2023.

7:52 a.m. Early bird gets the… seat?

Hui Zhang, father of senior Zechen Zhang of Beijing, arrived at 5 a.m. to secure “the best place” to see his son receive his diploma. “Today is a big day for my family,” he said.

Nearby, Heidi Williams is also guarding seats in a shady spot, while knitting a baby blanket for a church fair. She knits for her grandchildren, too, including Jackson Williams ’23 of Cumberland, who will be processing across the Historic Quad in a few hours. “Four years went by very fast. It’s just amazing,� she says.

8:10 a.m. ‘Great friends’

A few rows across the Quad, Neil Delehey, father of Hazel Delehey ’23 of Camden, Maine, is sharing a rare in-person moment with Sean Ryan ’85, father of Katia Ryan ’23 of Amsterdam, N.Y.

The two have become friends during their time as ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½ parents. “Great friends,â€� says Ryan, and Delehey laughs.

Now Ryan is thinking about ways he can still stay connected to ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½, since “having Katia here always gave me the excuse to come back.” As for Katia? “She’ll be fine,” he says. “She did well here, I’m sure she’ll do fine in whatever comes next.â€�

8:35 a.m. Sunshine by delivery

Anita LaRue-McAfee, mother of Dylan McAfee ’23 of Washington, D.C., is carrying a cup of iced coffee for another parent in front of Coram Library. She just saw her daughter — the “best partâ€� of her morning so far. “We’re just overjoyed. Overjoyed for her, overjoyed for the class.” Like many of her classmates, “she’s had her ups and downs, but she’s doing well.

“Every single parent here is excited. They’re ready to do a jig!â€�

8:42 a.m. Bird in the hand

Neuroscience major Olivia Whittaker ’23 of Biddeford, Maine, holds her graduation cap, displaying the seal of Tufts University, where she’ll be attending medical school in the fall.

8:45 a.m. So far, so swimmingly

A group of swimmers take a selfie during the senior lineup. From left, Nathan Berry ’23 of Augusta, Maine, Abigail Gibbons ’23 of Westtown, N.Y., Dylan McAfee ’23 of Washington, D.C., and Liam Conklin ’23 of Newton Highlands, Mass.

8:47 a.m. Blue eyes, blue skies

These bright blue eyes belong to Rollo, a sociable 7-month-old corgi named after the first Duke of Normandy, a Viking said to be too tall to ride a horse. “His short legs were the inspiration for the name,� says his owner, Liya Simon ’25 of Durham, Conn.

Simon and Olivia Siegal are working on getting the pre-Commencement wiggles out of Rollo, rolling around in the grass.

Olivia is at ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½ to watch her sister, Annie Siegal ’23 of Brookline, Mass., graduate, and Liya is here to celebrate ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½ friends who are graduating. 

8:53 a.m. Roll call

Senior Associate Dean of Students Molly Newton is among the team making sure that the seniors are in alphabetical order as they line up on Alumni Walk for Commencement.

8:56 a.m. A little light reading

Eric Fleischmann ‘23, a double major in philosophy and anthropology from Chatham, Mass., reads Bertell Ollman’s Dance of the Dialectic: Steps in Marx’s Method while waiting to process on Alumni Walk. He’s reading it for pleasure, “a good introduction to Das Kapital,â€� he said.

8:59 a.m. Thematic tie-in

One senior sports a Bobcat-emblazoned tie, alongside a garnet ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½ College stole.

9:13 a.m. (Literally) sharing a bite

Alek Zelbo ’23 of New York City and Jaff Gao ’23 of Cypress, Texas, enjoy their last breakfast sandwich from Forage, a downtown Lewiston bistro, as they line up on Alumni Walk.

9:15 a.m. Custom stole

Track and cross-country letterwinner Owen Glover ’23 of Andover, Mass., got the idea to wear his track shoes with his regalia two days earlier, during graduation practice, as he was whiling away time with classmates. “Last time I will wear them,” he said. “Bittersweet.”

9:21 a.m. ‘Waiting for the storm to settle’

As the final roll call makes its way down the line of graduates, Kush Sharma of South Burlington, Vt., steps out of the sun and into the shade.

“There are a lot of emotions, and I think the processing part is going to come later. I’m someone who likes to process and reflect in real time as much as possible, but there has been no scope for that, so I’m waiting for the storm to settle down a bit so I can be like, ‘What the hell just happened?!’�

9:30 a.m. The procession commences

James Reese, associate dean of students for international student programs, joins junior class marshals Ella Blum ’24 (left) of South Salem, N.Y., and Emma Upton ’24 of Amherst, N.H., in leading the Class of 2023 on the traditional route from Alumni Walk to the Historic Quad.

“It’s kind of like a practice, you know?” says Blum. “It feels very surreal to be walking in a graduation that is not my own,” especially since Blum’s own high school graduation was pretty much wiped out by COVID. “But I’m really lucky. My best friend is a graduating senior, so to get to be here with her is really special.â€�

9:38 a.m. Lifting the mood

Professor of French and Francophone Studies Mary Rice-DeFosse carries out her role at the mace bearer, leading the academic procession past Gomes Chapel.

10:21 a.m. Job well done

Rishi Madnani descends the Coram Library porch after delivering his speech as the senior speaker.

“Definitely not running on much sleep right now, but we’ve got caffeine,” Madnani said earlier in the morning, after spending his final night as a ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½ student celebrating with friends, and then hiked Mount David for the sunrise. “It was nice, very emotional. This is surreal, I’m not really registering it yet, the gravitas.â€�

Professor of Rhetoric, Film, and Screen Studies Stephanie Kelley-Romano worked with him on his speech. “She helped me make it a little more speech-like, with structure and all that. I’m really happy with where it is right now.�

10:32 a.m. I heart you

Shankar Vedantam expresses his love for the ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½ community after being presented with an honorary Doctor of Letters degree by President Clayton Spencer.

10:38 a.m. Bend a little

Commencement speaker J. Drew Lanham crouches a bit as Professor of French and Francophone Studies Mary Rice-DeFosse adjusts his honorary doctorate hood.

10:43 a.m. All quiet on the Quad

A packed Historic Quad listens as Commencement Speaker J. Drew Lanham delivers his remarks.

11:12 a.m. 100 percent certified graduate

After returning to his seat, Mohamed Diawara ’23 of Philadelphia sneaks a peek at his diploma.

11:18 a.m. Tap for good luck

Imti Hassan ’23 of Portland, Maine, taps the Class of 1932 Sundial for good luck, a new tradition at Commencement. Hassan, a politics and history double major, is one of this year’s Fulbright Student award winners, receiving an English Teaching Assistant award for Taiwan.

Hassan’s interest in Taiwan began as a child in Portland, thanks to a Taiwanese neighbor, who introduced her to Taiwanese culture. Hassan became proficient in Chinese at Portland High School and continued her studies at ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½. “I hope to inspire students by sharing my family traditions, my language, and my hobbies.â€�

11:25 a.m. Pointed towards success

Ali Manning ’23 of Sydney, Australia, engages enthusiastically in the tapping tradition.

11:33 a.m. A space between moments

Spencer shakes the hand of Martha Reyes ’23 of Los Angeles.

Watching it all is the Rev. Brittany Longsdorf, the college’s multifaith chaplain, who will offer the benediction at the conclusion of Commencement.

“I get to really see each face as they get a diploma, and that’s just such a beautiful moment, one of my favorite parts of the whole year, the way they light up.�

In her benediction, Longsdorf spoke of the moment as “an intentional pause, a moment between moments. In this space between, I invite you to call to mind each soul who walked this journey with you — family, mentors, teachers, staff members, friends — and send them gratitude with a gentle smile and by taking a deep breath.”

11:33 a.m. Hip-hip, hurrah!

Family, friends, and loved ones gathered at one end of the Coram Library porch to wave and cheer at the new graduates as they exit the stage, diploma in hand.

11:42 a.m. Ending with a ‘Z’

Spencer shakes the hand of Leah Zukosky ’23 of St. Louis, the final ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½ graduate of her tenure as the college’s eighth president,

For the record, Spencer has shaken 3,728 hands at Commencements since 2013. Cutting into the total was virtual 2020 (no handshakes) and mostly-no-shake 2021.

The first graduate she congratulated, in 2013, was Hakimah Abdul-Fattah ’13, a Fulbright winner and now a Ph.D. candidate at the University of Pennsylvania.

11:52 a.m. Capping it off

Relieved and exuberant, members of the Class of 2023 toss their mortarboards in the air, punctuating the end of Commencement with a cheer.

11:52 a.m. Wrapping it up

Spencer turns to a camera during the Commencement recessional. At left is mace bearer and Professor of French and Francophone Studies Mary Rice-Defosse, and at right is Commencement speaker Drew Lanham.

12:02 p.m. Diploma: check!

Sam Jean-Francois ’23 of Medford, Mass., waves to family and friends, proudly waving a shiny new diploma.

Had Benjamin Mays not ventured north to ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½ to seek self-emancipation more than a century ago, Sunday’s graduation ceremonies would have looked much different, said ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½ Commencement speaker J. Drew Lanham.

The thought dawned on him this very morning, Lanham said. A world without Mays, the 1920 ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½ graduate known as the Schoolmaster of the Moment for mentoring Martin Luther King Jr., would today likely be a “world where I am not standing here now,â€� said Lanham, a scholar, author, and self-described “bird-loving Black kidâ€� who grew up in South Carolina.

Invoking Mays was a crowd-pleasing moment during Sunday’s graduation, which saw degrees conferred on 439 graduates who gathered in front of Coram Library with family and friends and ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½ professors and staff on a warm, sunny morning. 

But the nod to Mays was more than just a gesture; it was a central part of Lanham’s message about how we should live our lives with a shared pursuit of freedom and a full-circle mindset: “360-degrees around, beginning to end, me to you, and all that we connect to, every azimuth and degree in between, person to person, stranger to friend.�

The complete video of ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½ Commencement on May 28, 2023

At Sunday’s ceremony, Lanham, who holds the Alumni Distinguished Professorship in Wildlife Ecology at Clemson University and is the author of The Home Place: Memoirs of a Colored Man’s Love Affair with Nature, also received an honorary degree. He was praised in the degree citation as “expert on birds and an artist with words — dedicated to the proposition that the natural world we all inhabit is meant to be experienced fully and joyfully by all people — despite the barriers that too often prevent ³Ù³ó¾±²õ.â€� 

Lanham was joined by fellow honorands Michael Lewis, the award-winning author of such books as The Big Short, The Blind Side, and Moneyball; Julieanna Richardson, founder and executive director of The HistoryMakers, the preeminent archive of African American oral histories; and Shankar Vedantam, who is renowned for his Hidden Brain podcast and radio series.

This year’s 439 graduates represent 39 U.S. states and the District of Columbia and 38 countries. Eleven percent are the first in their family to graduate from college, and 44 percent studied abroad. Twenty-six seniors earned departmental honors for their senior thesis, and three seniors completed two honors theses each. Among the graduates, 47.2 percent were varsity athletes.

What’s next?

Only seven of the college’s 157 commencements have been hosted by a president in their final year in office, and this was one of them, as Clayton Spencer will step down as the college’s eighth president on June 30. 

In her welcoming remarks, Spencer acknowledged the connection that she and the Class of 2023 have, both heading out into something new and/or unknown.

“Everyone I run into has the same question: ‘What’s next for you?’â€� Spencer said. And like a senior being quizzed about their next step but not having a snappy answer, Spencer said she got “kind of stressed and a little irritatedâ€� that everyone seemed to expect that the outgoing ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½ president surely would be ready for her next act, even after running a college for 11 years, a stretch that included a global pandemic. “Don’t I get to just do nothing for maybe a summer?â€� she asked.

From a practical standpoint, Spencer suggested that “I’ve got a few irons in the fire� is often “sufficiently vague to deter the over-eager questioner.�

But in terms of the larger question, should a senior (or even Spencer) feel that they should have their life all figured out? “Emphatically, ‘No,’� she told the seniors.

“As you face the blank canvas of your 20s… resist the temptation to panic and grab for premature clarity or a narrative that sounds impressive…but really isn’t you,” Spencer said. “If you pause and look within yourself, I’m pretty sure you will find the confidence and patience to take things one step at a time and build your way toward your own true version of a life of meaning and purpose.”

Every step forward, however small or seemingly insignificant, “is a step you will learn from,� she said. “You will learn practical skills — like how to drag yourself out of bed in the morning and get suited up for work, or how to eat healthy meals when you can’t just swipe into Commons.�

There will be existential lessons, “like how to deal with difficult housemates or colleagues, how to cope with not being valued in a space, or not seen at all. You may learn, as well, that whatever you’re doing at any given moment is the farthest thing from what you want to do with your life. And the great news is, in the decade of your 20s, there is plenty of time for do-overs and re-invention.�

For the record, Spencer has shaken 3,728 hands at Commencements since 2013, with virtual 2020 (no handshakes) and mostly-no-shake 2021 cutting into the total. The first graduate she congratulated, in 2013, was Hakimah Abdul-Fattah ’13, Fulbright winner and now a Ph.D. candidate at the University of Pennsylvania. The final handshake today was with Leah Zukosky of St. Louis.

‘One of your own is our ´Ç·É²Ô’

Lanham started his address by expressing gratitude for the honor of being a Commencement speaker and honorary degree recipient, that “you would honor me, my family, and a long line of ancestors who worked, who toiled for hundreds of years by force and not choice for this moment.

“Their bitter sacrifice leads me to this sweetness, a bird-loving black kid with maternal roots and shoots in a little known and seldom seen place called Ninety Six, S.C.�

“Ninety Six Creek to the Androscoggin River. My Piedmont clay to your rocky shore. Full circle, ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½. I hope you’re beginning to feel that with me.â€�

Drew Lanham

The connection between ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½, Lanham, and Benjamin Mays has a nexus in that town, Ninety Six, where Mays himself was born and lived and was “my mama’s neighbor, a mile up the road,â€� Lanham said. Ninety Six “is where one of your own is our own.”

It’s all more than a coincidence, said Lanham. Mays, “a man who has come before me but whom I never knew but was close to me as family, speaks through me at this moment. Ninety Six Creek to the Androscoggin River. My Piedmont clay to your rocky shore. Full circle, ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½. I hope you’re beginning to feel that with me.â€�

For his theme and message, Lanham drew on one of Mays’ most famous statements. ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½, said Mays, “made it possible for me to emancipate myself, to accept with dignity my own worth as a free man,â€� a concept that is now baked into the ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½ mission statement, which promises that ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½ is dedicated to “the emancipating potential of the liberal arts.â€�

The emancipating potential of education, said Lanham, should teach us all that “what’s been done wrong should not be doubled down on by denial to repeat the sins again and again. That’s called ignorance. That’s the opposite of what you’ve been here to achieve. And so I know that what you will promote past this day is actually called education.â€�

At the same time, education means that “we don’t say what happened in the past and get over it. We acknowledge the truth to go forward. That is what I call critical fact theory,â€� to which the audience responded with a resounding cheer.

Freedom is “as an inalienable and emergent force, a seed inside each one of us waiting to burst forth and to grow.”

Drew Lanham

And if education has the power of self-emancipation and freedom, said Lanham, “the question that hangs out there then is, what does that freedom look like?�

For Lanham the ornithologist and naturalist, “it’s about wildness. It’s about finding these spaces unencumbered and untethered, where I can watch and not be watched to prosecutorial effect.â€� With wildness in mind, Lanham asked his audience to “think about freedom as an inalienable and emergent force, a seed inside each one of us waiting to burst forth and to grow.â€�

Thinking about freedom as an unalienable and emergent force, he said, means to “be able to look full on in the mirror without hesitation and love who is looking back. Freedom is that seed planted to form root and shoot, grown into a mighty oak. Freedom is that head and heart space that turns us loose to roam the hinterlands of our own imaginations. 

“Freedom is head to heart to hand and back again. That is full circle, ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½. It is a place where discovery lurks around the hairpin turns on life’s path. Freedom is curiosity’s valve stuck on full flow.â€�

“Freedom is also about being shoulder to shoulder, together with me to be more than we can be alone.â€� 

Drew Lanham

Freedom isn’t just reading banned books. “Freedom is reading a library full of them and then making sure those who would ban them get banned by vote from banning ever again,â€� he said, which prompted a round of applause. “Freedom is writing the book that others would ban if they could, but can’t.â€� 

“Freedom is building the library where there is none. Freedom is leaving me alone to be who I am, dress how I want, control my body’s being without outside interference. Freedom is also about being shoulder to shoulder, together with me to be more than we can be alone.â€� 

Lanham closed by asking the audience to embark on a shared mission, asking them to repeat a vow: “To be better, to do better, to bring my being, my community, the environment, humanity, and this world to better than it has been. To be an arc in the bigger circle. For without me, the circle cannot be.�

Senior Address

In his Senior Address, Rishi Madnani of Langhorne, Pa., gave a nod to Spencer by quipping, “Did we print Clayton a diploma?!�

Madnani used the metaphor of an in-vitro cell culture — controlled environments for growing cells — to describe the ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½ community. “As incoming stem cells, each of us brought a unique genetic and molecular profile to the table: our similarities, and our differences, brought us together to form an impressively cohesive socio-cellular infrastructure.â€�

Assisting in this cultural development, “certain growth factors were added along the way: whether they were the intellectual stimulation of anthropology class, the timeless enjoyment of a cappella, or the vehement sense of purpose instilled in us through student government. These molecules activated signaling pathways which have helped us differentiate into the specialized cells that we are today.�

Making those reactions possible were enzymes: faculty and staff, who “served as biological catalysts without which life would never be possible.� (Getting a laugh, he added, “we also ingested a few molecules that aren’t exactly the best for growing cells, but I’d be lying if I said we didn’t create incredible memories along the way.�)

But even as the cells in a culture differentiate, “the sequence of the DNA in their nucleus remains the same —  they never forget where they came from, and neither should we.â€�

For Madnani, his Indian heritage was his epigenetic signature, and early on at ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½, he missed the embrace of his culture. He considered transferring to a larger school with a larger South Asian population. “But before I sent in the application, I asked myself one question: what about the Brown kids that came to ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½ after me? I knew then that I had to stay, and I’m so happy to be standing here today.â€�

Unlike a cell culture in a lab, however, the cells in the ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½ culture were able to “influence the behavior of the experimenter watching over themâ€� — in this case, the ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½ administration — explaining how members of the senior class played a critical role in the successful creation of a course requirement focusing on race, power, privilege, and colonialism.

“As one of the first colleges in the nation to have such a requirement, our cell culture is constantly pushing the envelope and leading by example.�

What happens in a lab culture goes beyond a Petri dish, and what happens at ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½ does not stay within the confines of campus. “Insights and discoveries that we yield from an in-vitro cell culture… are taken and applied on a larger scale,â€� including important drugs and therapies that we use today. 

“While we may not have set the foundation for a revolutionary pharmaceutical compound, our trials and tribulations at ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½ have allowed us all to make a number of discoveries about ourselves and our ability to make a difference in our communities.â€�

Honorary Degrees

In delivering this year’s honorary degree citations, Malcolm Hill, vice president for academic affairs, and dean of the faculty, noted that best-selling author Michael Lewis was an art history major. “Not a business or economics major, though he is perhaps best known for the books he has written about the world of high finance. Not a math major, though he has written about how statistics can win baseball games.â€� 

He wrote a senior thesis on Donatello, the Italian sculptor. And as a writer, Lewis “sees the faces in the stone, and wields words like a chisel, bringing unknown — though real — characters vividly to life for our eager consumption, entertainment, and edification. His writing, in short, helps us better understand the world in which we live and think more deeply about how we move through it.�

Hill noted that Julieanna Richardson, founder and CEO of the HistoryMakers, shares a profound connection with Alain Locke, the father of the Harlem Renaissance, in their commitment to empowering Black voices and preserving cultural legacies. 

Locke wrote, “Nothing is more galvanizing than the sense of a cultural past.â€� Richardson “frames a similar idea — the one that drives her immense contribution to the preservation of Black experiences in America — in this way. She says, “We want to reawaken memories, to reconstruct the history of a people who didn’t have time to capture it themselves.â€� 

Shankar Vedantam is the visionary behind Hidden Brain podcast, which seeks to explore “the unconscious patterns that drive human behavior and questions that lie at the heart of our complex and changing world.� This requires the capacity, said Hill, to “very consciously observe the world around them — then process what they see, synthesize meaning, and communicate findings. In other words, the skilled investigator of the unconscious must wield the precision tools of the liberal arts. Vedantam “is a master of this craft.�

This year’s ivy stone was designed by ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½ senior Abby Segal, who also happens to be a professional magician. But there’s no dazzling illusion involved in the design, just the brick-and-mortar sensibility of a senior trying to tell a story about her class and COVID.

Segal, a psychology major from Chelmsford, Mass., added design elements to the stone to reflect the determined forward progress of the Class of 2023 over their four years.

On the stone, Hathorn Hall’s bell tower is crowned with a Bobcat weathervane. The weathervane is rendered as an arrow pointing to the future. “I wanted it to reflect how we moved forward despite difficulty, and I wanted it to reflect ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½,â€� Segal explains. 

At the bottom of the stone, the numerals 2023 are both shaded and unshaded, representing the halting nature of life during COVID, filled with restrictions, eased restrictions, lockdowns, and back again.  

The arrow’s nock and fletching suggest a play/pause button — the pause that COVID placed on their academic and social lives, especially in March of their first year, when ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½ pivoted to remote learning. 

The arrow’s point suggests play, or even fast-forward, the way the class got on with their college life. At the top, an on/off button ties it all together, “reflecting the technological era� that defines the world that the class will graduate into.

Eager to see her design installed into the brickwork at Pettengill Hall, Segal joined ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½ mason Ron Tardif on a breezy recent Wednesday to set the newest ivy stone, continuing a ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½ senior class tradition that dates to 1879.

Tardif arrives with a bucket of mortar he mixed earlier in the morning, a few wooden wedges to hold the stone in place, and two tools: a rectangular margin trowel and a plasterer’s “hawk,� a flat sheet of metal for holding mortar while he works.

As Tardif starts plastering the interior sides of the square hole with mortar, Segal talks about her post-Commencement plans: more studying, but not the college kind.

Segal was one of two first-prize winners of the 2023 Bobcat Ventures competition with her pitch for funding her career in magic, specifically to inspire and encourage women to break into the male-dominated world of professional magic.

Toward that goal, she’s planning a magical summer, in the Netherlands and Sweden, to attend a few skill-building camps. The European magic scene is “very intimate and small,â€� says Segal. “It’s not as big as Chicago or L.A. or New York. But I like it because you get to know the magicians there. It’s intimate and kind of its own thing.â€�

Segal delivers closeup-style magic, steering away from fancy costumes and clouds of smoke, presenting herself as “a normal human being who also just happens to do magic.â€� 

That style lets her play off stereotypes of women in magic, as assistants or being cut in half. “The beautiful thing about women in magic is that there’s no stereotype for what a female magician should be,â€� she says.

This year’s Senior Address at Commencement will be offered by Rishi Madnani ‘23 of Langhorne, Pa., who came to ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½ in fall 2019 with two major expectations about his path forward.

Both were quickly upended, but neither because of the expected culprit, the worldwide pandemic, which very easily could have defined the Class of 2023. Their college experience was perhaps the most sidelined by COVID, starting with being sent home in March of their very first year.

Instead, for Madnani, the son of immigrants from India, the altered expectations had to do with his career and culture. In terms of the former, he planned to focus on theater at ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½. That changed. With the latter, he didn’t expect to miss the Indian culture he’d been bathed in since childhood as much as he did.

ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½ represented Madnani’s opportunity for a role reversal, a chance to be true to himself and the possibilities of self-evolution. He quickly found great purpose in pre-medical studies and the idea of being a researcher, physician, and advocate for change in the sciences. On Sunday, he will graduate as a biochemistry major with membership in Phi Beta Kappa.

He became an advocate for South Asian culture and inclusion on campus, founding and being president of a new program of student community, the South Asian Student Association. He served as a Student Government class representative and as a student liaison on the college’s Student Affairs Committee.

And he never stopped his engagement with the humanities and social science courses that instructed him on the big picture and his place in it.

Freddie Wright of ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½ Communications spoke to Madnani recently, and here is an edited selection of his remarks.

A basic question: Why did you want to give the senior address?

It’s been a dream of mine. I really love the Class of 2023, so it’s an incredible honor to be able to speak to all of our families and the faculty and staff who helped us get to where we are.

I’m also an actor at heart. I just love public speaking — I can’t lie. 

So tell us a little bit about that “actor at heart.â€� You came to ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½ thinking about theater, and now you’re graduating with a biochemistry major.

Acting was my childhood dream. I arrived undecided but thinking I wanted to be an actor. Freshman year I was in a production of LOVE/SICK. But I kept doing pre-med courses on the side. And once I took organic chemistry, it was like, “I can’t deny it any longer. I love ³Ù³ó¾±²õ.â€�

On paper, my progression looks like going from wanting to be an actor to wanting to be a doctor. People might think, “Indian parents. They probably told him, ‘Be a doctor!’â€� But they were very supportive of me. 

My parents are both physicians, and as the son of immigrants from India, there are certainly stereotypes imposed upon me. For the longest time, I wanted to go against the grain. I didn’t want to take the safe, expected route. I suppressed it: “I can’t be a doctor. I can’t do anything sciencey.â€�

But I realized that careers aren’t one dimensional; I don’t have to “give upâ€� acting. For example, there’s a definition of acting by Sanford Meisner: “Acting is the ability to behave absolutely truthfully under the imaginary circumstances.â€�  

If you think about it, that’s an effective definition for empathy. The ability to behave truthfully while imagining someone else’s circumstances and lived experiences is how I think about empathy, including clinical empathy.

What do you mean by clinical empathy?

Especially in the U.S., our healthcare system operates on a fundamental divide between provider and patient. That’s bound to exist because of the power dynamic that exists between those two parties. An effective way to bridge that gap and produce better patient outcomes is to use clinical empathy. You try to understand your patient’s life circumstances, their story, their background, their beliefs, and the advantages and disadvantages they face.

Essentially, you use the empathic skills that we all have as humans. My junior year, I took “Literature, Medicine, Empathy” with [Professor of English] Lillian Nayder, and a guest speaker was [Kelsey Professor of Neuroscience] Nancy Koven. Believe it or not, there is a neuroanatomical basis for empathy. Capitalistic and individualistic notions of thought and behavior might obscure it, but it’s there.

You’ve done Purposeful Work summer internships while at ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½. What would you say to a student about the value of an internship?

I interned in an OB/GYN research lab at Brigham and Women’s Hospital for two summers. Those were among the most formative experiences that I’ve had in my four years. And I can’t thank Purposeful Work enough — they were the ones who linked me with this lab and funded me for the first summer. Complementing my curriculum at ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½ with this real-world learning experience helped me refine exactly what I want to do, concretely and tangibly, in my life.

You have been active in diversity, equity, and inclusion issues at ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½, including starting the South Asian Student Association. What prompted you to start SASA? 

I was raised in a very Indian household, but for a lot of my life I had a conscious desire not to engage too heavily with my culture. I didn’t grow up in a large South Asian community, so I felt that I had to conform to what the media and society around me told me I should do, to look and act like the people around me. I didn’t see South Asian culture with the same beauty, brilliance, excellence that I do today. 

Coming to ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½, a lot of that got turned on its head. Once I was in an environment where I didn’t have my family and didn’t have this cultural context constantly surrounding me, I was like, “Shoot, I need that. That’s who I am.â€�

So on the one hand, freshman year, I was super deep into the ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½ community. I was really feeling it, loving it, having a great time. But at the same time there was something missing, a big part of who I am. How can I change that? How can I fill that gap for others who are feeling the same thing?

Truthfully, it was more than filling a gap. It was also advocating for ourselves and advocating respect for our culture. For example, maybe saying something about people practicing yoga in whitewashed and inauthentic ways. I think everybody can benefit from yoga, but did you know it was banned in India during British colonial rule? 

There’s been a lot of support from my peers and other South Asian students who’ve taken on leadership in the club. Last week, SASA had a mock wedding; all of my friends did a dance at the wedding. We had 200 people show up, including people you might put into a certain box and say, “There’s no way they would get down like that to Bollywood music.â€�

That’s the power of pridefully and unapologetically representing your community. Especially at ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½, people will happily engage with other people’s cultures and celebrate them, and create an environment where all of our backgrounds are valued. Perhaps I’m being overly optimistic, and there are of course still issues, but it’s been a great journey for SASA.

What characteristics have you come to value in the people around you? 

ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½ students have intellectual curiosity, a really fascinating lust for knowledge. They want to understand how the systems and structures around us dictate how our society works, how cultures operate, how religion influences people — all these different fascinating things. 

And professors lead us on this journey — the intellectual journey, the pursuit of knowledge, and how to contribute to the world in some positive way. These things are really valued here at ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½.

At ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½, you’re so intimately connected with the people around you. You see how your actions and words impact them — and you learn the little things you can do to make someone else’s day so much better. This collectivist framework of our community instills in us a genuine desire to give back and be positive citizens.

During COVID, you started to create a number of TikTok videos on brown racial identity that gained hundreds of thousands of views. How did you start that?

When I came to ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½ freshman year, there was a fundamental decision that I had to make. Do I put efforts into advocacy, or do I go with the status quo, blend in, and take the easy way out? 

Ultimately, I chose to put in the work. Doing all that work gave me the comfort to talk with people, to work with and against the ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½ administration, and to really demand space for myself and the people who look like me. It taught me resilience and the ability to speak up. 

Being Indian at a PWI forced me to grapple with the multidimensional nature of my racialized existence. On the one hand, my ancestors were subjected to atrocities under British rule, and on the other, Indians in the U.S. often have access to an immense amount of socioeconomic privilege. I was always somewhat conscious of these complexities, but taking social sciences and humanities classes at ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½ allowed me to explore them with a scholarly lens and better articulate my thoughts. And that’s really what the TikTok videos reflected. 

You expressed your goal to become a physician and scientist and to contribute to the revision and alteration of dated Eurocentric medical curricula, among other goals. How is medical curricula Eurocentric? How does that create harm?

Almost every profession and discipline evolved and grew through colonial practice, tradition, and belief. We define medical conditions, visualize them, and diagnose them largely through their presentations in white men. 

A really simple way to understand this is by thinking about dermatology and skin-based conditions. It’s very easy for anybody to understand how a skin condition would look different on white skin versus on dark skin. That’s something that is very real. 

I took this wonderful course, “Natural Products and Secondary Metabolites as Drugs,â€� with [Assistant Professor of Chemistry and Biochemistry] Colleen O’Loughlin. She gave us so much information on the health disparities and poor clinical outcomes that exist in the U.S. When you really zoom in on those stats, you’ll see that these disparities reflect deplorable inequities on the basis of race, gender, class, and sexuality.  

Addressing those kinds of disparities and clinical outcomes sounds like a big goal. Does it feel daunting?

I have a lot of big goals, that’s for sure! It’s something that I struggle with, wanting to be a physician / scientist / policy maker. It’s like three to four lifetimes worth of work. So we’ll see what I actually get around to. But you know, now is the time to be ambitious! 

Can you tell me about your thesis and what it was like working with your thesis advisor?

My thesis advisors are professors Jen Koviach-Côté and Colleen O’Loughlin, both of whom are incredible scientists and enthusiastic professors. Their joint project looks at compounds called pyrazinones produced by staphylococcal bacteria that might have a role in regulating their virulence, their ability to cause infection.

I got to play a small role in that research, but I mostly got sidetracked to a project involving computational protein modeling, but still within the scope of their larger research question. With Colleen’s advice and guidance, I went to Peter Schlax, who is a ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½ research librarian with a Ph.D. in biophysics. He’s incredibly understated, but a brilliant guy. 

He guided me through an amazing project where I was able to use an artificial intelligence–based technology to predict the structure of the protein that makes those pyrazinones in the bacteria, then use that structure to simulate the binding of substrates to that enzyme. I’m so proud of the work that I was able to do with everybody. And now I have this really strong interest in biophysics that I didn’t know I had.

You received the department’s award for research excellence in biochemistry just this past month. What does that mean to you? 

It means the world to me. I remember that when Jen presented the award, she read a little section from my thesis about the ideological implications of my project. I connected my thesis work to the Cyborg Manifesto by Donna Haraway, which is something that I was exposed to in an anthropology course, “Art, Power, Politics,â€� taught by [Visiting Assistant Professor of Anthropology] Josh Rubin. He’s just amazing. 

I had him freshman year for cultural anthropology, and that class pushed me so hard to think about the ways that my identity — racially, culturally, religiously — shapes my experience in this country, and the ways I exist and behave in relation to the structures around me. So in my last semester I had to come back around and take “Art, Power, Politics.�

Professors will often meet you where you are. If you want to learn the material and you’re excited about it, they’re excited to have you. And that mutual excitement is what I love about ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½. 

I wrote a paper about how my thesis project kind of subverts the distinction between nature and technology, which is a lot of what Donna Haraway writes about. I figured I should take some of that thinking and put it at the end of my biochemistry thesis because it’s so relevant. For me, that interdisciplinary thinking and engagement defines the beauty of the ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½ education.

We hear that a lot about the value of interdisciplinary thinking.

At ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½, you have your major, but you can pretty much take anything and be welcomed with open arms, even if you are a significant outlier, for lack of a better word.

There are classes where you don’t meet the prerequisites, but sometimes all it takes is an email to the professor saying, “I’m very interested for these reasons. I think I can do well because of ³Ù³ó¾±²õ.â€� And professors will often meet you where you are. If you want to learn the material and you’re excited about it, they’re excited to have you. And that mutual excitement is what I love about ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½. 

Your class was sent home in March of your first year, and sophomore year was lived under great restrictions. What was lost?

I think we lost “tangentialâ€� friendships. Maybe those friends aren’t your core group of friends, but they’re important. They represent wider connections and intermingling within the community. Freshman year, you create so many lighthearted connections. You see them in Commons, you’re like, “Hey, how are you? What’s going on?â€� 

They’re the people you like to see at parties, to catch up, feel a good vibe. If we didn’t have those, everyone would just be in their circles, kind of isolated. And that’s what happened with COVID. But those relationships have made a comeback in the last two years. So that feels good.

On the bright side, in my sophomore year I was academically locked in, and really forced to confront the important questions. What do I want to do? What calls me? Do I want to go into acting? Do I want to go into politics? What do I want to do? And then biochemistry called my name. And I just got swept away.

Do you have any advice for incoming students? 

Speak up. The words you say here can have a large impact, simply as a result of them being a proportionally larger component of collective discourse compared with those same words being said at a large school. To me, that’s empowering. It pushes you to do more because you can — you have the ability to make this place better. 

What’s up for next year?

I’m in the midst of applying to medical school for fall 2024. So in the gap year, I’ll be doing research at the same lab at Brigham and Women’s Hospital. 

I’m especially excited because every summer we get two ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½ interns from the Center for Purposeful Work. I’ll be able to teach these students and hopefully help them understand the career that they want to have, and whether they want to be a physician, scientist, or both.

ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½ connections are very tight. ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½ students and alumni, for lack of better words, really ride for each other. They want to give back to the students that come after them.

I really do believe that this community has an incredibly formative impact on everyone within it. So I’m going to give back starting this summer, and after that who knows? We’ll see what’s in the cards.

J. Drew Lanham, Alumni Distinguished Professor of Wildlife Ecology at Clemson University, MacArthur Fellow, and author of The Home Place: Memoirs of a Colored Man’s Love Affair with Nature, will deliver the ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½ College Commencement address on Sunday, May 28.

Lanham, who will receive an honorary Doctor of Science degree, will be joined by three other honorary degree recipients.

• Michael Lewis, the award-winning author of such books as The Big Short and Moneyball, whose meticulously crafted narratives help us understand the forces that are shaping our world, will receive a Doctor of Letters degree.
  
• Julieanna Richardson, the founder and executive director of The HistoryMakers, the preeminent archive of African American oral histories, housed in the Library of Congress, will receive a Doctor of Humane Letters degree.
  
• Shankar Vedantam, the acclaimed journalist and bestselling author renowned for exploring the inner workings of our minds and the ways we make decisions for his Hidden Brain podcast and radio series, will receive a Doctor of Letters degree.

“This year’s class of honorary degree recipients embody the very best of the liberal arts — bringing to their work deep curiosity, rigorous inquiry, and sincere dedication to forging connections and creating something that serves the wider world,� said President Clayton Spencer. “We are so pleased to be able to share their stories with our graduates and their families at Commencement.�

This year’s Commencement ceremony begins at 10 a.m. and will be held outside, rain or shine, on the college’s Historic Quad and available via livestream on the ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½ College website and .

J. Drew Lanham

J. Drew Lanham is an ornithologist, wildlife ecologist, professor, and writer whose work builds connections between people and place. He is an advocate for the natural world and for direct human experience of nature, and often addresses the barriers Black Americans can face when seeking to claim this experience and find joy in wild spaces. His essay “9 Rules for the Black Birdwatcher,� published in Orion magazine in 2013, begins with: “​​Be prepared to be confused with the other black birder,� adding, “yes, you will be called by his name at least half a dozen times by supposedly observant people who can distinguish gull molts in a blizzard.�

Raised in Edgefield County, South Carolina, Lanham received his undergraduate and master’s degrees in zoology at Clemson University, then earned a doctorate in forest resources, also from Clemson. He holds an endowed chair as Alumni Distinguished Professor at Clemson and was named an Alumni Master Teacher in 2012. He serves on many conservation boards, including the American Birding Association, and is a member of the North American Association of Environmental Education. He was named a MacArthur Fellow in 2022 for “creating a new model of conservation that combines conservation science with personal, historical, and cultural narratives of nature.” Lanham’s 2016 memoir, The Home Place: Memoirs of a Colored Man’s Love Affair with Nature, won the Southern Book Prize and the Reed Award from the Southern Environmental Law Center. Mixing prose with poetry, his first book was Sparrow Envy: Field Guide to Birds and Lesser Beasts, which began as a chapbook and was reissued in hardcover in 2021. Another book is forthcoming from Farrar, Straus and Giroux.

Michael Lewis

Writer Michael Lewis is a masterful storyteller and explainer. He has an uncommon talent for constructing narratives that are at once vividly specific and broadly compelling, from the inner workings of professional sports to the shortcomings of America’s response to COVID-19. The author of many New York Times bestsellers, Lewis tells stories that reveal truths about ourselves and our society in the Information Age.

Moneyball (2003) chronicles the data-driven efforts of baseball’s Oakland A’s to build a winning team on a shoestring budget, sparking important conversations about the role of data in sports and other industries. The Blind Side (2007) explores issues of race, class, meritocracy, and social mobility by documenting the evolution of one position on a football team, the left tackle, and focusing on the experience of one player, Michael Oher. The Big Short (2010), which won a Los Angeles Times Book Prize, follows the stories of individuals to explain the intricacies of the subprime mortgage crisis of 2008. All three books were adapted into successful movies. Lewis has won multiple Gerald Loeb awards, considered business journalism’s highest honor. His most recent book, The Premonition (2021), indicts the U.S. pandemic response, describing a “bureaucratic disease of under-reaction [that] runs deep in America’s fragmented, underfunded health system.� Authentic, character driven, and meticulously researched, his books transport a reader “through a winding road of anecdotes and eccentricities provided by the character or characters,� writes the Los Angeles Review of Books, “all the while shearing and honing these stories for salience and readability.�

Julieanna Richardson

In 2000, Julieanna Richardson interviewed Black radio executive Barry Mayo for the first interview for The HistoryMakers, which is now the nation’s largest African American video oral history archive, an unprecedented collection of interviews, photos, and biographies telling the stories of more than 3,500 African Americans as well as the history of the U.S.

Richardson’s interest in African American oral history was inspired by her liberal arts education at Brandeis University, where an independent research project on the Harlem Renaissance led her to the Schomburg Center for Research in Black Culture. She earned a J.D. degree from Harvard Law School before working as a corporate attorney for the firm Jenner & Block. She founded her own TV and video production company, started a regional home shopping channel, Shop Chicago, and served as C-SPAN’s local production arm, before focusing on The HistoryMakers, now housed permanently at the Library of Congress and used for research and instruction by faculty and students at almost 200 colleges and universities. Richardson serves on the Honors Council of Lawyers for the Creative Arts and has received honorary doctorates from Howard University, Dominican University, and Brandeis; a Black Enterprise Magazine Legacy Award, its highest recognition of women’s achievement, in 2014; and a Pioneer Award at the Heroes and Legends Awards in 2016. As the preeminent digital repository for the African American experience, The HistoryMakers, which includes numerous ÀÖ²¥´«Ã½ alumni, honorands, and Martin Luther King Jr. Day speakers, is about “telling our story,â€� said actor Danny Glover, “and about correcting American history before it’s too late.â€�

Shankar Vedantam

Shankar Vedantam is an acclaimed journalist and bestselling author renowned for his podcast, Hidden Brain, which receives more than three million downloads each week. Vedantam uses science and storytelling to explore human behavior and decision making, with particular emphasis on the ways in which our decisions are influenced by factors of which we are un-self-aware.

He founded Hidden Brain while working at NPR as a social science correspondent. He previously served as a national correspondent for The Washington Post, authoring the “Department of Human Behavior� column. His books include an eponymously named The Hidden Brain (2010), The Ghosts of Kashmir (2005), and, as co-author with Bill Mesler, Useful Delusions: The Power and Paradox of the Self-Deceiving Brain (2021). Vedantam, who has received an Edward R. Murrow Award for outstanding achievement in journalism, holds a master’s degree in journalism from Stanford University and has been a fellow of the Nieman Foundation for Journalism at Harvard University. He has earned a World Health Organization Journalism Fellowship and a Rosalynn Carter Mental Health Journalism Fellowship, and has served on the advisory board of the Templeton–Cambridge Fellowships in Science & Religion and as a senior scholar at the Woodrow Wilson International Center for Scholars. Vedantam’s 2022 TED Talk, “You Don’t Actually Know What Your Future Self Wants,� has more than 2.5 million views.

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Want to show your Bobcat pride? Celebrate your graduate with these lawn sign designs. Just download and order through your local copy & print business. Download the printable PDF to see the complete collection.

Printable Lawn Sign for 2023 Families

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