As �ֲ���ý professors lined up for Convocation last week, we asked a few what they’re excited to teach this fall.

In sum, they told us about some things old, some things new, and some things renewed.

In his second year at �ֲ���ý, Assistant Professor of English José Villagrana is teaching a new course, “Milton and the English Civil War.”

John Milton, of course, is a canonical figure in literature. By looking at Milton’s writings through the lens of the English Civil War (1642–51), Villagrana’s students can make fresh connections to “timely discourses on revolution, armed conflict, and the role of free speech and censorship.”

In his second year at �ֲ���ý, Assistant Professor of English José Villagrana is teaching a new course, “Milton and the English Civil War.” (Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College)

Lecturer in Anthropology Kristen Barnett looks forward to teaching her two sections of “Introduction to Archaeology.” She began teaching the course three years ago and has completely overhauled it.

Now the course focuses more attention on concepts of social justice, ethics, and “tensions between Indigenous communities and the archaeological community,” she explains. The course will also delve into questions of how certain colonizing practices are “established and perpetuated through archaeology.”

A �ֲ���ý faculty member since 1991, Professor of Physics Hong Lin is trying something new this year: teaching one of the department’s upper-level courses, “Electrodynamics.”

“It will be my first time teaching this course, but I love the topic,” she says. Lin has taught a similar course, “Electricity and Magnetism,” which covers the material at a lower level. “It will be good to help students see the topic in more depth,” she says.

Lecturer in Anthropology Kristen Barnett has revamped the introductory archaeology course. (Jay Burns/�ֲ���ý College)

In one of 39 First-Year Seminars, which are geared toward the college’s newest students, Professor of Anthropology Elizabeth Eames will teach “Disney Demystified: Race, Gender, and Sexuality in the Magic Kingdom.”

Popular culture being what it is, “we all have a bit of Disney in us,” Eames says. In other words, “Disney is a cultural text. And from that text, we can discern America’s beliefs and values. And we can unearth the cultural politics embedded in Disney productions.”

Professor of Psychology Georgia Nigro is teaching “Community-Based Research Methods.” Offered in a variety of disciplines, methods courses give students a chance to exercise their emerging research skills.

This fall, Nigro says, her 18 students “are going to learn with a community partner, the .” The institute is working closely with the Lewiston School Department, which is seeking to infuse .

Professor of Psychology Georgia Nigro is teaching a course that will support efforts to introduce restorative justice practices in Lewiston public schools. (Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College)

“My students will look at data already collected from teachers, who are working to be more restorative in their practices,” Nigro says. Restorative justice tries to “replace the old-fashioned punitive disciplinary practices with practices that repair the harm.”

Raj Saha ’03, a lecturer in geology and physics, is eager to teach his First-Year Seminar, “The Living Planet,” and hopes his students are ready for a surprise.

Raj Saha ’03, a lecturer in geology and physics, is teaching a First-Year Seminar, “The Living Planet.” (Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College)

In its examination of intricate connections among the Earth’s living systems, the course sits “at the intersection of math, science, environmental studies, and social justice,” he says.

It might surprise these new �ֲ���ý students, he says, “that there is scientific basis for concepts that we often label as moral or ethical, such as the need for diversity, what diversity does in an ecosystem, and how you can translate these qualities to society in general — what makes us more resilient.”

Su Langdon, a lecturer in psychology, is excited to have more time to teach “Principles of Psychology.”

Drawing from the tenets of problem-based learning, the course uses “consider scenarios,” in which students look at real-life situations from psychological perspectives. For example, how do gymnasts and other athletes accomplish complex motoric tasks? Why do we feel “all gooey inside” when we think about someone we’re attracted to?

Having taught the course a “gazillion times,” Langdon wanted the flexibility to add a few more scenarios, including ones her students suggested. To do so, “I needed to reclaim some time,” she said. “To be more creative, I needed about a week.”

Working with the Accessible Education and Student Support office — to ensure that the changes met the needs of all her students — Langdon moved the course’s traditional in-class exams to online exams, outside of class.

And presto: A whole week of new time!

Text of the 2018 Convocation address, “Questions for �ֲ���ý,” by Associate Professor of History Joseph Hall, delivered on Sept. 4:

Good morning. Happy New Year.

I want to begin with a few words of thanks, first of all to Walter for such wonderful remarks. You have a gifted classmate.

I want to also thank the Wabanaki peoples and the homelands that we sit and stand on, and the people whose labor has made our conversation today possible, including the sign language interpreters who are turning the words that you hear into words that you can see.

I’d like to thank the Class of 2018 for nominating me for this opportunity to speak with you all. I’m sorry they’re not here for me to extend my thanks in person, but it is truly an honor, and I am grateful to them for it.

I’d like to thank two students in particular, Tim Larson from the Class of 2005, and Emma Soler, who’s from the Class of 2020, both of whom have done important research that makes a lot of what I’m going to be talking about today possible.

To Caitlin Lampman, Michelle Belden, and Pat Webber, who all work in the �ֲ���ý Muskie Archives and Special Collections, for providing access to the history that I’m going to be talking about. And last of all, of course, to you all for being here. It’s a pleasure to be here with you. I want to extend a warm welcome to all of you who are new, whether you’re in the Class of 2022 or new faculty or new staff. I hope your time here at �ֲ���ý is much more than you expect.

Although I am certainly grateful for the chance to be here to speak with you all, I have to admit that I’m a little bit frustrated by the conventions that bring us here.

We all decided to come to �ֲ���ý because it’s an institution that prides itself on small scale conversation, whether in our classrooms, dormitories, or departments and programs. Yet you as the Class of 2022 are going to begin and end your academic careers here dutifully listening to people garbed in velvet robes, standing behind large wooden lecterns, and not really having much of a conversation.

It’s not that I’m really opposed to velvet and wood. It’s not even necessarily that I’m opposed to lectures with large audiences. The problem is that what really excites me about being here with you all is the chance to actually to get to know you and to talk with you. The reason those conversations are particularly interesting is because within that intimacy, we have the opportunity to learn from each other but also, as in our mission statement, “to engage the transformative power of our differences.”

This kind of lecture, frankly, is not the kind of format where I’m expecting that we’re getting much in terms of intimacy or engagement. Let me just say right at the beginning, I don’t really care what you think about what I’m about to say. I am very interested in hearing what you want to do with what I have to say. What I want to do is think about questions, which are at the heart of any good conversation.

I’d like to think about what a question is — at its heart, it’s about a quest; that’s at the root of the word. The Latin quaerere, or quest, is at the heart of a number of words that we think about with questions, such as “query” or “inquiry.” The Latin quaerare means to seek or to inform oneself, to ask, but I want to think about “question” in terms of that idea of quest. When the Middle English used that word, they were invoking a certain kind of judicial understanding. You see that in the way we use the word “inquest,” or even “Inquisition.”

I’ll bet no one was expecting that. In asking questions, it’s incredibly important that we remember that a quest for knowledge should not simply be a quest to prove yourself right, a quest to conduct an inquisition that seeks to stamp out ideas that differ from your own. To be inquisitive, not inquisitorial, is what I’m talking about here.

I also want to make clear that I think every question has the potential to lead to something big, to have something big at stake. I’m a firm believer, as I think are almost all of my colleagues, that there is no such thing as a stupid question. I’m sure many of you have heard that injunction many times. Many of you might, in fact, not believe it, because you think you’ve heard stupid questions and maybe even asked a stupid question. But let me ask you to think about it this way: If a question is an adventure or a journey, if it’s a quest, and if every journey of 1,000 miles begins with one step, then the converse means that every step has the potential to begin a journey of 1,000 miles — which is to say, every question has the potential to hold some much bigger questions at stake.

Let me put this in terms of a question that I’ve been thinking about for a while. I’m going to need you to use your hands here.

How many of you have heard that �ֲ���ý College was founded by Oren Cheney, who was an abolitionist?

All right, so many of you have. If you haven’t, that’s totally fine, but now you have. Oren Cheney was an important founder of �ֲ���ý College. He was a Free Will Baptist. He believed deeply in the equality of all people, such that he believed that anyone should be admitted to what was, in 1855, the Maine State Seminary, regardless of their racial or gender backgrounds.

A second question. How many of you know that �ֲ���ý College is named after Benjamin �ֲ���ý, an industrialist who established the textile mills in downtown Lewiston?

All right, you guys are warming up. This is good. It’s in 1864 that Benjamin �ֲ���ý is going to give the first $10,000 of what would eventually be a $200,000 set of gifts to Oren Cheney, so that the Maine State Seminary could become a liberal arts college named after Benjamin �ֲ���ý.

Third question. How many of you know that the cotton textiles that Benjamin �ֲ���ý and others are weaving in Lewiston are going to be made, until 1865, from cotton that is grown by enslaved people in the south of the United States?

Okay, so maybe not as many. That is, in a sense, an indication of some of the ways we talk about our history in this country.

These three questions are at the heart of what I think is perhaps, by now, an obvious question: If Oren Cheney was an abolitionist, deeply opposed to slavery, and Benjamin �ֲ���ý was making his money weaving cotton grown by enslaved people, why was Oren Cheney taking �ֲ���ý’ money?

And what does that mean for us?

�ֲ���ý founder Oren Cheney

We can start with Cheney’s own diary, which, fortunately, you can find in the Muskie Archives. It’s really a wonderful little artifact. It’s about three inches by five inches, a small leather-bound thing that he could stick in his pocket. When you open it, on each page would be the seven days of the week — Monday through Wednesday on one side, then Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday on the other page.

There’s only one year of this diary that still exists, which for me, is a fascinating question. For a man who keeps a diary so often — and we know that he did keep other diaries — why is there only one still remaining? The fact is, because it’s 1864, we have a chance to find out a little bit of what he thought when he first talked with Benjamin �ֲ���ý about that first $10,000 gift that would make the seminary into a college. I want to read to you from that important day when Cheney and �ֲ���ý first talked about that gift, March 4, 1864.

“Have had a long and pleasant call on Mr. �ֲ���ý—says he will give $10,000—would rather have had another name—he cannot act as our agent as well as if on another name—but said it might be as well for us in the end—said should at some future time make us a donation. I asked, ‘Before your death?;’ He replied: ‘Perhaps so, I cannot say.’ Said now is the time to start subscription in Boston. Went to Concord, N. H. Stop with Bro. E. P. Prescott. Carrie and I called at the Millett’s.”

Hearing these words might seem rather unremarkable, but it’s extraordinary when you look at the diary, because here’s this incredibly small page, and Oren Cheney’s trying to fit all of these words on one third of it. You can see, as he’s writing, the penmanship gets tighter and tighter and smaller and smaller until he’s finally wrapping the words up around the page because he doesn’t have room to fit all the important things that Benjamin �ֲ���ý is telling him on March 4th, 1864. Cheney, in what looks like fairly spare prose, is really, really excited. $10,000: He was going around very happy when people would give $100 or $10, and here’s a man giving $10,000 and offering the prospect of much more.

But he doesn’t say anything about slavery.

We know that Cheney had opinions about slavery. He was a member of the Free Will Baptists, which was one of the denominations so radical as to believe that God offered salvation to all people. If that was true, then slavery was, as Cheney put it in an opening editorial to the abolitionist newspaper Morning Star, “a giant sin against God and an awful crime against man.” Cheney was so deeply committed to abolitionism that he left Brown University because, as a student, he did not see it as abolitionist enough. Cheney believe deeply in abolitionism.

It’s worth noting that abolitionism was something of a fringe at the time — it’s easy to say we’re all abolitionists now, but roughly 2 percent of Americans living in the north of the United States were abolitionists in the 1850s. Just so you understand, the Libertarian Party polled 4 percent in the national election in 2016.

When it comes to talking about money made, at least indirectly but still fundamentally from slavery, there is silence.

There was controversy surrounding �ֲ���ý’ establishment of this gift to make a college. The controversy lay not with slavery and money, at least as far as Cheney would remember it. The controversy lay in the fact that Cheney was accepting money to make a college in the first place. When Cheney established the Maine State Seminary in 1855, there were a number of Free Will Baptist seminaries in other parts of northern New England. All of them were thinking about becoming a college at some point, in a sense stepping up from being a post high school kind of school to being one that dealt more deeply in the liberal arts. Cheney actually assured a number of people, “Don’t worry, I’m actually looking into just establishing a seminary.” Yet here he is nine years later, looking for the money to make a college. A lot of people were incredibly unhappy with this. They were so unhappy that decades later, in 1907, when Emmeline Cheney, Oren’s wife, wrote a biography of her now-dead husband, she took an entire chapter to explain why it was that he had done what he did and to defend those decisions.

Cheney and his colleagues were also aware of the limits on the kind of money they could accept. Cheney’s successor and second president of �ֲ���ý, George Chase, recalled in the 1880s that Free Will Baptists, when they were thinking about establishing �ֲ���ý College, would have been reluctant to send their children to a college, “maintained by the fruits of slave labor.” What he was referring to specifically was that there had been a southerner, a plantation owner, who had offered money to an institution in New Hampshire. He had not actually followed through on that, but Chase was acknowledging that plantation owners, perhaps strangely, were interested in supporting an abolitionist institution, and that �ֲ���ý College would have probably been very uncomfortable with that fact, had that plantation owner been interested in giving a donation here.

Here we have a college that is aware of some controversial elements of a decision to become a college, and is aware that slavery is actually a controversial piece of a foundation of a college — and yet when it comes to talking about money made at least indirectly but still fundamentally from slavery, there is silence.

I find that silence intriguing because it suggests just how deeply this nation — not just south but north, south, and west — depended on the enslavement of millions. Abolitionists, including mill owners, failed to disassociate themselves from ties to slavery. Emma Soler has done some wonderful research on this fact, to show that even a mill owner in Rhode Island would be anxious about how he was going to continue being an abolitionist, while he continued to weave cotton grown by the people he wanted to be free.

This failure to acknowledge or at least directly address these compromises raises for me another set of intriguing questions, and I want to take another moment to think about it etymology. “Intrigue” is a wonderful word. It comes from the Latin intricare, to entangle or to confuse. It’s worth thinking about intriguing questions, because it is those kinds of questions that are questions in which you find yourself entangled. To put it differently: In what ways are you inextricably tied to the questions that you pose?

It’s with that idea of intrigue that I point out that I did not title this talk “questions for Cheney” or “Questions for Cheney and �ֲ���ý,” but instead, “Questions for �ֲ���ý.” My real interest is not questions for them, although I would love to sit down in a room with both of them, but it’s for us.

When it comes to slavery, abolitionism, and racism, there are many contemporary entanglements for us to consider. As Bryan Stevenson, the director of the Equal Justice Initiative, pointed out in his Commencement address last May, “I don’t think we’re free in America. I think we’re burdened by our history of racial inequality. It’s in the air in Maine, just like it’s in the air in Mississippi. It doesn’t matter where you go, there is this contaminant that we’re all breathing in.”

You can see some of that contamination in the life of someone like Julie Lythcott-Haims, the author of the Common Read for this year, who, in many instances, recounts how she was silenced by the racism of others. That silence is not something that she bore alone or something that she suffered alone, even though I think she suffered it more than the other people around her. Everyone who was with her suffered it for not being able to benefit from the wisdom that she could offer, the trust that she could build, with those who instead were inflicting great pain on her.

It’s in the face of these problems that people like Lythcott-Haims and Stevenson point out that I wonder, can talking more fully about Oren Cheney, his vision and his compromises, and also his silences, help us see a little better this contaminated air and perhaps even hear a little better our awkward silences?

There’s a problem with this, and that’s that my question, at least for what I want to do right now is just too big. The amplification is too loud. You’re all sitting here very quietly, nicely regimented in your rows, and I’m stuck behind this big wall of wood. I would so much rather talk with you all in a smaller group, as I was able to do in April, when I talked about this with a group of prospective students.

I would like some of you to ask me, as some of them did, “What role did African Americans play an abolitionism?” “Why are you talking just about white men?” And for that matter, “What role do you play? What role does your background play, as a white man, in asking these questions and seeking these answers?”

Associate Professor of History Joseph Hall urged the Class of 2022 to ask the questions that intrigue them. ”Your quest, your development, depends on your questions.” (Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College)

Of course, there’s another big problem here, and that’s that these are only my questions. Your quest, your development, depends on your questions. I hope you get some of those questions and answers from the people around you.

Consider, for instance, asking Frankie Urueta, a custodian in the basement of Pettengill — when he gives you a fist bump, you’ll know who he is — why he wants �ֲ���ý to host a powwow. Ask Michael Sergeant what he thinks about ranked-choice voting, or go and then ask him. Ask research librarian Christine Murray anything. If you have time, ask her about how birds communicate. Let’s talk about what intrigues us, and remember, there really are no stupid questions.

Perhaps just as important, let’s find the space to do this. it’s so easy to say to stand here and say, “be curious, ask questions” when that does not help you get your homework finished. The dreams of September frequently wither under the obligations of October. If you are going to ask questions, ideally you’re going to have the space to do so in your classrooms. But there might be other questions that intrigue you that don’t fit in those spaces. I hope you do the work to make those spaces.

For my part, if you have a question for me, I’ll cut corners on my committee work right there. I might even cut some corners on my lecture for class tomorrow. For those of you who are in either of my classes tomorrow, you might see some of the effects of these questions in your syllabi. That’s not quite as much of a joke as I’d like it to be right now.

What it’s really about is you and the questions you want to ask. I hope I’m part of them. I hope others here are part of them. We have this wonderful opportunity in this wonderful environment to ask them.

I’d like to close with one last question: Does anyone have time to talk over lunch next week?

Thank you.

Text of the 2017 Convocation Welcome by �ֲ���ý College Student Government President Walter Washington ’19 delivered on Sept. 4:

Good morning, and welcome to the 2018-2019 academic year. Greetings to all, faculty, staff, returning students, and most importantly, to the Class of 2022. Congratulations. You’re all officially Bobcats.

Three years ago, I sat in the very seats you all are sitting in right now, captivated by feelings of excitement, anxiousness, and definitely a lot of fear. The most vivid memory I have about my Convocation three years ago — and some of the faculty may remember this — was that much like today, it was one of the hottest days I’ve ever experienced in the state of Maine.

But truly what was running through my mind was how in the world I was supposed to navigate these next four years: manage to play football, make friends, sleep, and find time to get involved. I’ll be honest, I had no idea how.

What became apparent to me was that not knowing was okay, and that it would take time to adjust. It won’t take long, but you’ll get acclimated to the classes, to the long readings, to the professors and their different policies on laptops in the classroom, and to the jungle that is 6 p.m. Commons.

Quite unexpectedly, while you’re acclimating yourself to each of those things, you will also discover that you’re acclimating yourself to the person that you’re becoming. Three years ago, I was simply a college student, but over time, the idea behind becoming someone who can effectuate change began to overtake the simplicity of just being a college student.

Today, I stand before you with the firm belief that your journey through these next four years is going to do the same. I believe that you are about to embark on an adventure that is going to make you an agent for change no matter your field of study.

I spent this past summer working for a legal aid provider in Maine, a firm that only represented people below 125 percent of the poverty level — the poor, the forgotten, individuals with mental disabilities and physical disabilities. I walked into a coalition of lawyers who were simply passionate about being compassionate.

They were determined to remember those forgotten within our current system. From what I saw, that seemed to be the driving force behind everything they did. This firm used the majority of its resources to focus on housing discrimination, illegal evictions, subsidized housing, and the bevy of legal issues that come along with that.

During the first week of my time working there, one of the lawyers who was working within the veterans unit came into my office quite frantic. He goes, “Walt, we’ve got an emergency. I’ll explain the car, but we gotta leave right now.” I got up kind of scared, and there was a sort of calmness about him, and I quickly understood that when he said, “We’ve got an emergency,” he meant one of our clients had an emergency.

In the car, he explained to me that a veteran he had been working with was served with an eviction notice because he had not been paying his rent. The reason this veteran had not been paying his rent was because of a bunch of problems with his apartment — mice, mold, no hot water for long periods of time.

This veteran, who was also struggling with some other disabilities, had gotten so fed up that he got all of his things, placed them in his truck, and decided to spend the night in the parking lot of a local Shaw’s grocery store. We traveled there to meet him.

As I sat there, listening to him explain the issues within his apartment and the aggressive conversations his landlord had with him, I began to get angry for him. I looked at the lawyer with this look that said, you know, we got what we need.

The next thing that came out of the veterans mouth was quite stunning. He said, “I don’t want to go to court. I need to get a shower and find a place for my cats, because I know no shelter is going to take them too.”

That moment, I felt so many emotions, because firstly, I wanted the landlord to pay for what he had done. But I also struggle to understand how someone who dedicated his life to defending his country felt that he couldn’t even defend himself, nor even see himself as worthy as being defended. We escorted him to a shelter, and I spent that day torn up with the fact that I couldn’t do more for him.

“We’ve got to spend more time getting closer to those forgotten within our society, spend more time placing ourselves into uncomfortable situations.”

A few weeks later, I sat in on a case meeting in which paralegals and lawyers discussed upcoming cases, next steps for clients, legal strategy. When the eviction cases came up, we noticed that a few of them were coming from the same trailer park, the same landlord, the same living conditions. One of the lawyers decided that she was going there to meet the clients in person, to gather some more information. I went along with her.

On that day, we visited four trailers. On that day, I realized I spent my entire life taking everything I had for granted. On the outside, there were tarps covering old roofs that had gone years without repair. On the inside, there were leaks. The floors and the walls had holes in them. Doors were broken, windows were shattered. We were given documents that confirmed their water was contaminated.

We heard stories where these people begged their landlord to fix things, and he had declined, and the only thing these people kept saying was that they wanted a safe place for them and their children, and they were struggling financially, so it’d be quite difficult for them to just up and move to a new place.

Before we left, I listened as one family member described more details about their living conditions. As he talked, he quickly stopped and asked me to turn around. It was their landlord. I watched this man on the porch of this beautiful well-kept home as he smiled and waved at us. I got in the car, and I was almost brought to tears at the thought of those children being forced to live in those conditions and the landlord’s blatant disregard for his obligation to keep his tenants safe.

Within the next three weeks, we were in court every Wednesday and Friday battling for these people, hearing after hearing, settlement after settlement. When it was all over, these people were in tears, thanking us for the help, but most importantly, just taking the time to listen and to care about what they were going through.

After those two instances, it became apparent to me that in order to effectuate the change that we want to see within this world, we’ve got to spend more time getting closer to those forgotten within our society, spend more time placing ourselves into uncomfortable situations that place us amongst the forgotten, because in a lot of ways, it was those people that showed me what true compassion, true equality and true justice were all about.

Honestly, as these realizations became clearer over time, I questioned how I cannot have noticed the things that I experienced right on this campus, where individuals passionate about change put themselves in uncomfortable situations in order to make long lasting impacts.

I watched a student by the name of Lydia Sullivan, who had the desire to transform our safe ride program. She had so many flourishing ideas, scheduled meeting after meeting with members of our administration. I watched this team challenge a system that had been in place for years, and with our hard work, her goal had been achieved, one that will benefit all students at �ֲ���ý.

I watched �ֲ���ý Student Action, a student led group on campus, organize for two weeks to hold a rally for gun control right outside of Commons, and, less than a month later, hold another rally to highlight the benefits and the cost of making a �ֲ���ý education truly accessible to all. I watched our student community go above and beyond each and every day, volunteering to help asylum seekers, local schoolchildren, victims of domestic violence, getting closer to those disenfranchised.

The true power of the �ֲ���ý experience lies within two distinct factors. The first is that we are a community that places value on respect and kindness — kindness not only towards each other but to those within our surrounding community and even those that may disagree with our mission. What I want to convey to you today is that the other true power of the �ֲ���ý experience is not that we were founded by Baptist abolitionists, not that we are one of the top liberal arts colleges in the country.

No, the true splendor of the �ֲ���ý experience is that no matter what you plan to do with your majors or your profession, here we challenge you to take your passion and to create ways to make your passion the driving force behind how you change the world.

�ֲ���ý does not define you. It gives you all the tools necessary to define yourself, to discover the very things that have been lying dormant within you. This class, the Class of 2022, each of you has the power to be a class unafraid to take action, that does not shy away from injustice but rather forcefully seeks out ways to abolish it.

Walter Washington ’19, the student government president, speaks to members of the Class of 2022, faculty, and staff at Convocation on Sept. 4. (Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College)

It was Michelangelo who said that every block of stone has a statue inside it, and the task of a sculptor is to discover it. I want you all to think of your next four years as that stone and everything you do, from this moment on, as you chiseling away at it until the next time you’re all here on this quad receiving your diplomas. Everyone will sit in awe of your statue that you’ve created. Each and every single one of you has a gift, a passion and the ability to transform the proverbial learning experience into a journey rooted in making a difference.

Fortunately, you are now part of a community where education and making impactful change are one in the same. I encourage you all today to spend this journey remembering those who are banking on you to discover your passion, to see this journey through no matter how difficult things may seem, and to dedicate your time to not only pursuing knowledge but to fostering an environment where strength, passion, equality and change are the norm, and that change must begin right here on this campus.

Today, I welcome you into the �ֲ���ý family. As you embark on this journey, I look forward to watching you grow. I look forward to watching you discover your passions, and more importantly, as a member of your extended family, I’m so excited to begin invoking those changes that we all want to see together.

Thank you.

The theme of making a difference in the world is standard issue in the ceremonies that open and close academic years.

At �ֲ���ý’ 2018 Convocation, though, that theme gained sharp new urgency thanks to some moving personal testimony, three thought-provoking questions, and a fresh visit to the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr.’s “arc of the moral universe.”

In her Sept. 4 welcome to the 550 members of the incoming Class of 2022, �ֲ���ý President Clayton Spencer used King’s famous passage to explore how �ֲ���ý helps students sort out their callings — and where the college’s social justice ethos fits into that.

Speaking during Convocation on Sept. 4, 2018, �ֲ���ý President Clayton Spencer welcomes the Class of 2022 to �ֲ���ý, and the entire campus community to the start of a new academic year. (Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College)

Also speaking were Associate Professor of History Joseph Hall, chosen by the departing Class of 2018 last spring to give the Convocation address; �ֲ���ý Student Government President Walter Washington ’19, greeting the new students on behalf of the older ones for the second year; and Multifaith Chaplain Brittany Longsdorf, who gave the benediction.

Spencer bookended her welcome with one of the most inspiring statements to come from the civil rights movement: “The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends towards justice.” (King adapted the theme from the writings of 19th-century Unitarian minister Theodore Parker.)

King’s maxim “expresses a thought that I once found reassuring,” said Spencer, “but now it feels dangerously like false hope, cold comfort, or a seriously misplaced sense of inevitability.” Is that arc, she asked, “really bending toward justice in Syria, in Venezuela, in Myanmar, in our schools, on our city streets, at our borders, in our public discourse?”

If Parker intended this thought as an “affirmation of hope,” Spencer continued, “I also hear it as a call to action — as did President Obama, who said that if the arc is going to bend toward justice, it’s not going to do it on its own. We have to get in there and use our best efforts to bend it.”

Why tell this to the college’s newest students? Because, the president explained, �ֲ���ý is a place to figure out “who you are and how you’ll make a difference in the world.” It’s a place whose own moral universe is codified by its mission statement, which reads, in part, “With ardor and devotion, we engage the transformative power of our differences, cultivating intellectual discovery and informed civic action.”

Mixed emotions are abundantly evident as the Class of 2022 lines up on Alumni Walk prior to Convocation. (Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College)

Ardor, devotion, and engagement with difference: moral practices to which Spencer added a fourth. “Intellectual discovery and informed civic action unfold out of a prior commitment to what I will call empathy,” she said, broadly defining that term as a way of “approaching ideas, people, or situations with a stance of curiosity and fundamental openness.”

Quotations from two American writers, one contemporary and one from the 1850s, expanded that notion of empathy. In his introduction to The Scarlet Letter, Nathaniel Hawthorne wrote that “it contributes greatly toward a man’s moral and intellectual health to be brought into habits of companionship with individuals unlike himself, who care little for his pursuits, and whose sphere and abilities he must go out of himself to appreciate.”

And Spencer cited a June 29 New York Times that likened art to empathy: “It expands the moral imagination and makes it impossible to accept the dehumanization of others. When we are without art, we are a diminished people, myopic, unlearned, and cruel.”

As they immerse themselves in �ֲ���ý, Spencer told the first-years, “figure out which questions compel you most deeply, which modes of inquiry stimulate your curiosity and begin to feel intuitive, and which forms of expression engage your creativity and help you shape your own unique worldview.”

Hornist John Boden performs with the �ֲ���ý Brass Quintet prior to Convocation 2018. The musical prelude included works by Sir Charles Hubert Parry, J. S. Bach, and Thomas Morely. (Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College)

But there was a caveat. “Paradoxically, this journey of self-discovery only works if you’re willing at every turn to get outside yourself, to engage with difference — and, much more important, to be prepared to be transformed by this act.”

“Do your part while you’re here to bend the arc.”

A compelling speaker, Washington ’19 exemplified Spencer’s charge to the new class. Returning to campus after a summer working for a firm that provides legal aid for disadvantaged people, he told the new students about helping to resolve two eye-opening cases in which landlords had made life intolerable for their tenants.

In one, the management of a trailer park refused to correct problems, including life-safety issues, with several units. In the other, a military veteran had been evicted because he had stopped paying rent — but he had stopped rent because the landlord wouldn’t fix problems with the apartment.

Washington first met the veteran in a parking lot where he was living in his car.

Speakers at Convocation 2018 lead the Sept. 4 processional: from left, Multifaith Chaplain Brittany Longsdorf (red gown), �ֲ���ý Student Government President Walter Washington ’19, historian and Convocation keynote speaker Joseph Hall, and �ֲ���ý President Clayton Spencer. (Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College)

“It became apparent to me,” Washington said, “that in order to effectuate the change that we want to see within this world, we’ve got to spend more time getting closer to those forgotten within our society, and spend more time in uncomfortable situations that place us amongst the forgotten.

“In a lot of ways, it was those people that showed me what true compassion, true equality, and true justice was all about.”

Hall used his time at the lectern to reflect on the role of questions as quests, as journeys in which small answers accumulate into major understandings.

“Ideally, you’re going to have the space to [ask questions] in your classrooms,” at �ֲ���ý, he said. “But there might be other questions that intrigue you that don’t fit in those spaces. I hope you do the work to make those spaces” — a process Hall then demonstrated, making space amidst �ֲ���ý’ Convocation to raise three thought-provoking questions about the college’s founding.

“How many of you have heard that �ֲ���ý College was founded by Oren Cheney, who was an abolitionist?” Hall asked the audience. More than half raised their hands, after some coaxing.

Associate Professor of History Joseph Hall delivers the 2018 Convocation address, titled “Questions for �ֲ���ý,” on Sept. 4. (Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College)

Hall recounted the story of �ֲ���ý’ founding by Cheney, a Freewill Baptist and abolitionist who “believed deeply in the equality of all people, such that he believed that anyone should be admitted to what was in 1855 the Maine State Seminary, regardless of their racial background or gender,” he said.

“How many of you know that �ֲ���ý College is named after Benjamin �ֲ���ý, an industrialist who established the textile mills downtown in Lewiston?” Again, a respectable show of hands. Hall explained that when Cheney wanted to remake the seminary as a liberal arts college, in the 1860s, �ֲ���ý the industrialist was a key financial supporter.

“Third question,” said Hall. “How many of you know that the cotton textiles that Benjamin �ֲ���ý and others were weaving in Lewiston were made, until 1865, from cotton grown by enslaved people in the South of the United States?” Fewer hands went up that time.

This troubling paradox, Hall explained, seemingly went unaddressed by Cheney himself, the deep-dyed abolitionist who damned slavery as “a giant sin against God and an awful crime against man.”

As members of the incoming Class of 2022 look on, mace bearer Michael Murray, Charles Franklin Phillips Professor of Economics, leads the 2018 Convocation recessional away from Coram Library. (Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College)

Yes, Hall pointed out, Cheney likely would have rejected financial backing directly from a Southern plantation owner. But, as a diary from 1864 revealed, he was happy to accept $10,000 from industrialist �ֲ���ý, whose wealth was derived in part from the unpaid trevails of plantation slaves.

Hall’s point was that such moral hopscotch — and the corresponding imperative to keep the questions coming — persists today. Quoting last May’s Commencement address by Equal Justice Initiative founder Bryan Stevenson, Hall said that Americans remain “burdened by our history of racial inequality.

“It’s in the air in Maine, just like it’s in the air in Mississippi. It doesn’t matter where you go, there is this contaminant that we’re all breathing in.” Hall wondered, “Can talking more fully about Oren Cheney, his vision and his compromises, and also his silences, help us see a little better this contaminated air?”

“These are only my questions,” added Hall. “One of the things that both Walter and Clayton made very clear is that your quest, your development, depends on your questions…and the answers I hope you get from the people around you.”

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

Opening Day for the Class of 2022 was Monday, Aug. 27, and the �ֲ���ý community turned out in friendly force to welcome and guide �ֲ���ý’ newest students.

Follow along as �ֲ���ý Communications photographer Phyllis Graber Jensen, teaming with writers Doug Hubley, Emily McConville, and Jay Burns, captured the day in words and images.

7:31 a.m.

Some of the first customers at Forage, a popular Lewiston coffee spot, were Belle Bernhoeft-Gutierrez ’22 and her parents, getting a leisurely start to what would be a packed day.

The family had flown in from São Paulo, Brazil, over the weekend, and Bernhoeft-Gutierrez, as an international student, was able to move in early.

“It’s the only time in life you feel so happy and so sad at the same time — and so proud.”

They’d tried to get their bearings on campus the day before. “People keep referring to things, and I just nod and smile for a little while,” Bernhoeft-Gutierrez said. They had marveled at the New England brick buildings, the Gomes Chapel, and the friendliness of the people.

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

“Everyone was really nice, from Security who helped me open my room to students that were walking by,” said Bernhoeft-Gutierrez.

As they ate Forage’s bagels and breakfast sandwiches and talked about the experience of dropping their oldest off at college, her parents, Carmen Bernhoeft and Gregorio Gutierrez, teared up.

“The best way I have found to describe it is, it’s the only time in life you feel so happy and so sad at the same time — and so proud,” Gutierrez said.

8:22 a.m.

As family cars bearing new first-years pulled up at Chu and Kalperis halls, the high energy among the Opening Day student helpers got a bump from loud pop music from tiny speakers, Dunkin’ Donuts Munchkins, and well-stocked hydration stations.

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

Milan Lemon ’21 of Plantation, Fla., said that the new-student influx had started right on time at 7 a.m., and about 40 first-years and families had arrived since then. Progress was smooth and the new students “were excited to move in,” he said.

It was a dancing move-in next door at Kalperis. “I think I’m more excited than some of the first-years,” said Nellie Breen ’21 of Pasadena, Calif., who danced to Camila Cabelo’s “Havana” as she talked to an observer. “I remember how excited I was when I got here.”

The music, she said, “adds some character and makes me feel excited just to be standing here dancing.”

8:22:19 a.m.

A few seconds later, there was a boisterous “Yay!” from student greeters as another family arrived. Half-a-dozen or so student, including Breen, descended on the arriving vehicle. The campus-wide goal for unloading each new student’s car was 15 minutes.

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

Another greeter, Alexia Sahue ’19 of Abidjan, Côte d’Ivoire, was fascinated by parents’ responses to the situation — “how nervous they are,” she said. (Coming from Africa, Sahue had first arrived at �ֲ���ý alone.)

She recounted an exchange between one dad and the younger brother of an arriving first-year: “‘In a few years that will be you.’ The brother had the scaredest look on his face.”

8:40 a.m.

Inside Commons, Stacia Poulin (right) of the college’s Dining, Conferences, and Campus Events office helped Gilleyanne Davis-Oakes ’22 of Vinalhaven, Maine, get squared away.

Her mother, Wanda Davis-Oakes, watched as Alex Campbell ’22 of Garden City, N.Y., waited his turn.

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

Nearby, Jenny Graves, business manager in the events office, reported about 30 students having signed in so far, from as far away as Hawaii and as near as the Maine towns of Falmouth and North Yarmouth.

Graves had started Opening Day greeting families as they pulled up outside Commons to drop off their students. One father told her, “�ֲ���ý has been so welcoming today.”

8:51 a.m.

Outside Commons on Campus Avenue, �ֲ���ý President Clayton Spencer joined the �ֲ���ý Welcome Crew — staff who help with Opening Day — greeting students as they were dropped off by family members.

She met Enrique Dolores ’22 of Hailey, Idaho, as he went to check in at Commons, joined by his godfather, Bob Knoebel. Dolores already had a good sense of where things were on campus — he’d been on campus for a week with the Bobcat First! program.

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

Bobcat First! supports first-generation students as they gain a sense of belonging and community on campus throughout their first year, starting with a pre-orientation program.

Dolores had especially enjoyed a ropes course, he said. “Besides that, we did a whole bunch of workshops, like time management. I thought that was really important, really helpful.”

8:56 a.m.

Director of Admission Darryl Uy was part of the garnet-shirted �ֲ���ý Welcome Crew on Central Avenue, outside Commons.

Central Avenue is the arrival spot for most first-years: They exit their vehicles, pick up IDs, and handle other check-in duties before rejoining their families (and gear) at their residences.

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

9:20 a.m.

The second that Michael and Carolyn Obel-Omia of Barrington, R.I., pulled up to Kalperis Hall, a group of student helpers, including junior advisor Milan Lemon ’21 of Plantation, Fla., swarmed the vehicle and grabbed gear, including a bike, to carry up to son Jackson’s second-floor room.

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

Jackson arrived from check-in a few minutes later, his newly issued �ֲ���ý ID on a lanyard.

After moving in, he planned to get ready for his late-week AESOP trip on the Grafton Loop Trail, see if he could change a course or two, and dive into his studies — maybe psychology, maybe sociology, maybe a natural science.

Of all the colleges he toured, Obel-Omia remembered �ֲ���ý as the one that was the most “together.”

“The main thing was just the one dining hall — that’s how I distinguish it,” he said. “It was the community.”

9:24 a.m.

Next door to Obel-Omia, Anna Landgren ’22 of Boxford, Mass., had pretty much finished decorating her side of the room, with the help of her brother Anders, 15, and her sister Lizzie, 8.

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

Asked what her favorite things about the room were, Lizzie pointed out a three-tiered rolling cart and two avocado-shaped pillows.

When Landgren first visited campus a couple of summers ago, she immediately thought, “This is where I want to go to school,” but her parents figured that would change after seeing other colleges. “But I was like, ‘Nope, this is where I’ll go to school.’ Truth be told, here I am.”

That didn’t preclude a little sibling sadness over leaving home for the first time. Lizzie said she was “half on the good side, because she’ll be close, but half on the bad side because she’s going to be gone on my birthday.”

“There’ll be lots of FaceTime, lots of letter-sending,” Anna said. “But I can’t wait to be here. I’ve been waiting for a long time.”

9:40 a.m.

As he assembled a storage cart in the hallway of Chu Hall, David Dimond identified himself as the father of, “and contractor for,” his daughter Olivia Dimond ’22 of Henrico, Va.,

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

9:45 a.m.

“Everyone’s very excited,” said Molly Newton ’11, assistant dean of residence life and health education, as she made the rounds.

Predicted temperatures that could hit 90 played a role in her planning for welcoming the new students, Newton said. “There’s plenty of water, we gave everyone the hydration talk, and we’re giving the greeters extra breaks.”

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

For Newton, Opening Day is its own reward.

“We put in so much preparation. And when the first-years and families finally start showing up, the campus comes back to life, and it reminds us why we love this work.”

9:52 a.m.

On the second floor of Chu Hall, Opening Day helpers, first-years, and parents darted back and forth between rooms, elevators, and staircases.

“I get so pumped, so excited, because the kids have so much to offer.”

Up came bedding, boxes, and storage containers full of belongings, mini fridges, and, in the case of Peter Philbin ’22 of Bedford, N.H., a double bass. Inside rooms, students made beds, hung up posters, and met roommates.

Philbin’s roommate, Noah Pott ’22 of Great Barrington, Mass., brought a keyboard to the room, complementing Philbin’s double bass. “It worked out well,” Pott said.

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

Nearby, Chu custodian Max Payne stood by a large container, happily greeting students and accepting their broken-down boxes.

“I get so pumped, so excited, because the kids have so much to offer,” said Payne, who’s worked at �ֲ���ý for 16 years. “I want to see them reach their goals. I want to see them come in safe, healthy, happy, and I want to see them go home the same way and do whatever I can to encourage them.”

Ashley Cleary ’19 of Albany, N.Y., a junior advisor in Chu, pointed out that things were calmer than they had been a few hours ago.

“I was telling one of my friends, ‘It’s like Christmas morning when there starts to be less presents under the tree, and you’re, like, no, I want it to last longer!’” she said.

10:15 a.m.

Amanda Becker ’22 (left) of Brooklyn, N.Y., had an extra set of hands to help her move into her room in Chu: her “�ֲ���ý mom,” Hannah Palacios ’21 of West Vancouver, B.C.

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

Becker stayed in Palacios’ room last October as part of Prologue to �ֲ���ý, which flies in students from underrepresented backgrounds and introduces them to campus for three days.

“She’s a huge reason why I chose �ֲ���ý.”

Becker and Palacios became fast friends, seeing each other at �ֲ���ý twice more and once at Becker’s home. “She’s a huge reason why I chose �ֲ���ý,” Becker said.

Becker, whose high school graduating class was about 40 students, was excited to meet new people and, she said, to learn for learning’s sake, diving deeply into her chosen subjects.

“I’m excited to do that with very specific classes rather than just, here’s 100 years of history you have to go through,” she said.

10:20 a.m.

After getting everything squared away at his room in Page Hall, Nathaniel Badger ’22 of Edwards, Colo., and his father, Lance, stopped by the bookstore to pick up a T-shirt for his little sister.

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

10:56 a.m.

The Bibro family of Cornish, Maine, were making good strides on unpacking, and all three — Camden ’22, mom Sandy, and dad Ed — helped make his new bed.

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

“At first, I always wanted to go to technical school,” says Camden. “But then I started looking at liberal arts schools — it was only like last year, during my senior year, and I had a teacher who went to Bowdoin.”

After interviewing at �ֲ���ý last year, he “just fell in love with everything that was offered. It just seemed to fit my character. That’s why I chose �ֲ���ý.”

10:57 a.m.

Marissa Bale ’19 (right) of Northford, Conn., and fellow helpers carried gear up the stairs at Parker Hall. “The first-years seem super-excited to move in,” said Bale. “It’s pretty high-energy, which is nice.”

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

Lucy Faust ’19 of Piedmont, Calif., agreed. “People have been buzzing around campus since 7 a.m. sharp., and it’s a really fun day to be a Bobcat.”

The pair were impressed by the smooth flow of first-year intake at the other end of Alumni Walk, in Commons. “Very organized, streamlined,” said Faust. “Well-oiled machine,” Bale agreed.

“You get your IDs, and your mugs, which we didn’t have freshman year,” said Faust.

She added, “Some dad told me that this wasn’t his first rodeo, and this is the best move-in experience he’s ever had.”

“It’s a major opportunity to savor my final lap.”

Helping newbies move in got Faust and Bale thinking about their own arrivals at �ֲ���ý.

“We moved in near each other freshman year, so it’s kind of full circle now,” said Bale. She was feeling a little nostalgic. “I’m remembering all the excitement and nervousness of freshman year, and now we’re going into senior year. It’s pretty crazy.”

“It’s a major opportunity to remind myself how fast those three years have gone by,” Faust said — “to savor my final lap.”

11:11 a.m.

Opening Day features a resource fair in Pettengill Hall’s Perry Atrium. There’s no cotton candy at this fair, but instead a suite of information about various �ֲ���ý offices programs.

Soaking in the new information were, from left, Yueh Qi Chuah ’22 of Petaling Jaya, Malawi, Mathieu Moutou ’22 of Vacoas, Mauritius, and Ognyan Simeonov ’22 of Novi Pazar, Bulgaria.

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

11:48 a.m.

The buffet lines weren’t the only things moving swiftly during the Family and New Student Barbecue.

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

1:05 p.m.

As 1 p.m. approached, international students and families filed into Commons’ Fireplace Lounge for a welcome session with James Reese, associate dean of students for international student programs.

There, Reese greeted Biruk Chafamo ’22 of Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, as Ella Fischer ’22 (second from left) of Raleigh, N.C., and Niharika Tuladhar ’22 of Kathmandu, Nepal, waited their turn.

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

Joining Reese in greeting the first-years were Francesca Biondi Morra ’20 of Santa Ana, Costa Rica, and Ahimy Soto-Garcia ’21 of Trenton, N.J.

The pair directed the first-years to pick up a sheet of paper with the Concord Coach Lines schedule and a recommended cab company. Members of the International Club, they had been helping Reese welcome the international students since yesterday.

“It can be very overwhelming with a new culture, new country, new everything,” Biondi Morra said. Her goal was to help the new people “settle in and see some familiar faces, and know that if you have any questions, we’re the people you can come to.”

1:26 p.m.

Lacrosse head coach Peter Lasagna does something similar every year. After the Athletics Welcome for prospective Bobcats and their families, Lasagna gathers his new players for a heart-to-heart outside Alumni Gymnasium.

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

While their sons listened to their coach, Tim Farrell and Michael Kim, fathers of John Farrell ’22 and Maxwell Kim ’22, chatted on the side. They had met over the summer at a lacrosse tournament in Massachusetts, to which the first-years were invited.

The team’s involvement of new students and parents impressed and reassured the dads — particularly Farrell, whose three older children were athletes at other colleges.

“That’s the beauty of a smaller school.”

“Having a built-in infrastructure and having an adult that’s coached at Brown and coached here for 18 years — he’s got experience,” Farrell said, referring to Lasagna. “I’m really happy about that.

“I’ve been looking forward to this meeting. It was nice of the athletics department to let you know what’s going on right away. I have not had that with any other school.”

“That’s the beauty of a smaller school,” Kim added.

1:41 p.m.

Outside the Chase Hall headquarters of the �ֲ���ý Outing Club, Peter Griffin ’20 of Beverly, Mass., an AESOP assistant coordinator, helped distribute loaner gear to first-years in preparation for the annual three-day, student-led outdoor trips.

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

AESOP leaders handed sleeping bags, mats, plastic dishware, and other gear to students lined up on the loading bay of Chase Hall.

“I love �ֲ���ý so far, and I’m very excited.”

Oliver Barrera ’22 of Waukegan, Ill., picked up a sleeping bag and mat for his upcoming trip to Nezinscot Farms. He and his fellow AESOPers would participate in farm life and eat Nezinscot’s popular homemade food.

Barrera was also gearing up to explore his interests in rhetoric and film, including his First-Year Seminar, “Lorraine Hansberry and James Baldwin: Young, Gifted, Black, and Queer,” taught by Charles Nero, Benjamin E. Mays Distinguished Professor of Rhetoric, Film, and Screen Studies.

“I love �ֲ���ý so far, and I’m very excited,” he said.

2:40 p.m.

And there was time to just sit and relax on the Historic Quad, outside Hathorn Hall.

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

2:41 p.m.

Besides leading one of the AESOP outdoor trips later in the week, Jake Atwood ’19 of Natick, Mass., is an assistant for a First-Year Seminar, “How Do You Know That?” taught by Benjamin Moodie, a lecturer in sociology.

Preparing for his work, Atwood found a shady spot in the Historic Quad to read The Knowledge Illusion: Why We Never Think Alone, by Philip Fernbach and Steven Sloman.

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý Collegel

3:11 p.m.

The Gomes Chapel porch affords a view of the comings and goings on Opening Day.

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

3:16 p.m.

With Opening Day moving toward its close, Margaret Flynn ’22 of Gambrills, Md., sat with her parents, Tonya Flynn and Roger Flynn, on a bench on the Historic Quad.

Mom and Day said that it was a “few last moments” to spend with their youngest child. “Who’s going to take care of us at home?” they said with a laugh.

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

3:39 p.m.

“It’s easier now than when I’ll be home, close the door, and pretend he’s still there,” said Afton Disunno as she, her son Dylan ’22 of East Hampton, N.Y., and husband Chris Disunno took seats on the Historic Quad for the traditional college welcome. “But we know he’s in a great place.”

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

4:28 p.m.

Dean of Admission and Financial Aid Leigh Weisenburger kicked off the college welcome, held in front of Coram Library. “The record-breaking Class of 2022 has arrived,” she said, prompting cheers and applause.

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

The Class of 2022 was selected from a record number of applications, 7,685.

“We are so proud to welcome you and to support you as you learn and grow,” she said. “Congratulations from the entire college: faculty, staff, students and alumni.

“You should be very proud.”

4:36 p.m.

Alixandra Zabin ’22 of Milford, Conn., sits between parents Amy and Steve Zabin as they react to President Clayton Spencer’s welcome address.

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

4:38 p.m.

“I love this moment,” said President Spencer as she took to the lectern in front of Coram Library to welcome students and families of the Class of 2022. “You bring such energy and excitement to campus. It makes up for the end of summer!”

Opening Day, she continued, “is when humans emerge from admission statistics. It’s been a long chrysalis period, and now the butterflies are right here. It’s our own butterfly effect here at �ֲ���ý.”

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

4:40 p.m.

Some parents were seeing �ֲ���ý for the first time on Opening Day. Others, like Steve Brackett ’85, were returning to the embrace of alma mater.

Steve and his wife, Kathryn, are the parents of Stephen ’22, and they were accompanied on Opening Day by their younger children, Maeve and Michael.

An active �ֲ���ý alumnus and volunteer, Steve has been back to �ֲ���ý dozens of times since his graduation.

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

Judging by tears welling in his eyes as he and Kathryn said their goodbyes to Stephen, this was a lot different.

In fact, the tears came because he felt something familiar. “It just keeps reoccurring. A feeling of comfort,” he said. “Now, it’s the feeling of comfort knowing that my son belongs at �ֲ���ý.

“It’s hard to let go. It’s going to be tough heading down the turnpike. But I know Stephen is with family.”

4:46 p.m.

The president’s welcome concluded, it was time for families to say their goodbyes, and time for Neeshi Hullavarad ’22 of Fairbanks, Alaska, to get a big hug from little sister, Esha.

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

4:48 p.m.

Jamari Amrham ’22 of Richmond, Calif., had his eyes on his mom, Cherie Hill, as she took a selfie. She planned to be in Maine for two more days, looking forward to the quieter pace of Maine in late summer.

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

5:00 p.m.

Stella Santucci ’22 and her younger sister, Chloé Santucci of Falmouth, Maine, hugged and laughed as they said goodbyes.

Their parents, Jacques and Patricia, are Mainers by way of France, settling in the Portland area in the early 1990s.

They noted how the French language, once spoken widely in Lewiston by residents who had emigrated from Canada, was making a comeback thanks to recent immigrants from French-speaking African countries.

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

5:11 p.m.

For Emily Dewey ‘22 of Sudbury, Mass., next up on the schedule was dinner with her Frye House residents and their junior advisor. Then a walk up Mount David to watch the sunset. Then fun class events until late in the evening.

But first things first: hugs for her father, Will Dewey ‘88, and her mother, Susan Luther Dewey ‘88.

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

A �ֲ���ý celebration that kicked off in January, prompted by a record number of applications for admission, peaks on Monday when the 550 members of the Class of 2022 arrive on campus.

After morning move-in, a noontime picnic, and early afternoon information sessions for parents, the Class of 2022, whose members were selected from the largest applicant pool in �ֲ���ý history, will gather with their families on the Historic Quad in front of Coram Library.

“This class represents �ֲ���ý College history,” says Dean of Admission and Financial Aid Leigh Weisenburger, who, along with President Clayton Spencer, will formally welcome the new students and their families on Monday afternoon. “So that’s the moment I’m most anticipating: When we can, together and in person, celebrate their achievement as the most selective class in �ֲ���ý admission history.

“I want them to know just how talented and diverse they are, and how deserving they are of their opportunity.”

During an April reception to welcome newly admitted students to campus, a prospective member of the Class of 2022 joins other admitted students and their families for the short but steep hike up Mount David. (Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College)

In the admission field, the journey from prospective student to newly ensconced Bobcat is known as the funnel. In the digital age, the top of the admission funnel is larger than ever.

During the past admission season, �ֲ���ý was able to reach some 5 million prospective students and families worldwide through stories and photography shared on �ֲ���ý social media platforms and email; through traditional print publications and mail; and through face-to-face interactions around the world with �ֲ���ý Admission staffers and Alumni in Admission volunteers.

+The 2018 Admission Season by the Numbers

These strategic and amplified efforts, combined with the college’s decision to eliminate the supplemental essay requirement, created the historic surge in interest: The record total of 7,685 applications is a 45 percent increase over last year’s 5,316 applications. (The previous high-water mark was 5,636 in 2014–15.)

For Weisenburger and her team, the huge influx posed an equally large question: Would the 2,300 additional applications be quality ones? Would they be, in marketing parlance, quality leads?

Dean of Admission and Financial Aid Leigh Weisenburger welcomes first-year parents and students on Opening Day for the Class of 2020 in 2016. (Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College)

“As an admission team, you ask the same questions each and every time you read an application. Does this person know �ֲ���ý? Have they done their homework? Are they prepared for the rigors of the �ֲ���ý classroom? Do they want a �ֲ���ý education?”

As the Admission deans performed their usual close scrutiny of the thousands of applications, “over and over, the answer was ‘yes,’” Weisenburger says.

“The pool was historically strong academically. They had done their research: They knew �ֲ���ý,” Weisenburger says. “It was a very self-selecting applicant pool, just as it always has been. The only difference was that it was 45 percent larger!”

“The numbers are dazzling, but the story is human.”

Additional proof of the pool’s quality came in the spring as students around the world, many with multiple offers of admission, made their final college decisions by the traditional May 1 deadline.

This year, that important “yield” rate — the percentage of students admitted by �ֲ���ý who accepted the college’s offer — increased to 24.4 percent, up 2 points from last year. “The increase in the regular-decision yield is another indication of the college’s market strength,” Weisenburger says.

+Class of 2022 Demographics

The 550-member class also retains historically strong rates of diversity in race and geography and continued strength in first-generation-to-college students, financial aid recipients, and students who attended a public high school, says Weisenburger.

“The numbers are dazzling, but the story is human,” she adds. “Growing our applicant pool means lowering barriers to admission among talented students everywhere. It means attracting students whose talent and interest in �ֲ���ý are commensurate with the excellence that �ֲ���ý offers. It means, eventually, producing �ֲ���ý alumni who champion the values that have defined �ֲ���ý since its founding.”

Monday’s Opening Day kicks off a seven-day Orientation that comprises events intended to help new students get their �ֲ���ý bearings. They’ll learn to navigate the campus, get a sense of student-facing programs and offices, and tour downtown Lewiston-Auburn.

+A Few Facts About Students in the Class of 2022

A taste of �ֲ���ý academics comes early. The day after move-in, new students have their initial First-Year Seminar class session. Later in the week, the Annual Entering Student Outdoors Program offers three-night trips off campus, from camping/hiking/canoeing excursions to local opportunities for community engagement.

Last August during Orientation for the Class of 2021, Assistant Professor of History Patrick Otim collects hand-made nameplates following the first meeting of his First-Year Seminar. “I know you are making the transition from high school to college,” Otim told the first-years. “The most important thing is to believe in yourself.” (Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College)

This year, the Common Reading selected for the class is Real American: A Memoir by Julie Lythcott-Haims. The new class will have several chances to dig into the themes of the book, including a Common Read Brunch on the morning before classes start and a book-focused debate offered by the famed Brooks Quimby Debate Council. The book will also figure in the college’s annual Martin Luther King Jr. Day book discussion on Jan. 21, 2019.

The Common Reading for the Class of 2022 is Real American: A Memoir by Julie Lythcott-Haims.

Besides teaching the basics, Orientation helps students leave their high school mindset behind, however much it’s helped get them this far.

Orientation comes to a close on Sept. 4 when, with the campus community, the new class gathers for Convocation, the ceremonial opening of the new academic year.

Following an introduction and overview of the new �ֲ���ý year by President Clayton Spencer, Associate Professor of History Joseph Hall, chosen to address the incoming class by the Class of 2018 last spring, will offer his remarks, “Questions for �ֲ���ý.”

At the start of their child’s college hunt, parents tend to speculate about their children’s prospects for career and happiness.

But in the weeks and days before the start of college itself, they start drilling down to the basics.

Carrie Murphey ’06, assistant dean of students for first-year experience and housing, is a prime mover in the activities during and around Opening Day and Orientation. When she hears from parents and family members of new students during the summer, it’s often about issues like, “’They’ll need to know how to do laundry!’ or ‘What if they need a snack and the dining hall is closed?’”

Such concerns only make sense. “They’re watching their child live at home, and then feeling like, ‘Well, what will that look like at college?’”

Nevertheless, there’s only one answer to questions like that, Murphey says: “Their students won’t know until they’re here, and they can begin figuring it out for themselves.”

A prime mover in the activities during and around Opening Day and Orientation, Carrie Murphey ’09 (left) poses with Molly Newton ’11, assistant dean of students for residence life and health education, on Opening Day in 2016. (Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College)

In fact, of all the ways parents can support their newly fledged students, one of the most valuable is easing back and trusting them to figure college out — and to trust schools like �ֲ���ý to help them do that.

In her chats with family members, Murphey says, “I’ll try to include phrases like, ‘What I would tell your student if they called,’ or ‘What your student might hear from me is —.’”

“It’s important for parents to step back so that their children can develop their own strategies for problem-solving.”

The important point is that “the developmental process of college is students emerging further into their self-advocacy. There shouldn’t be anything that a parent or family member can get for their student that the student can’t get for themselves,” she explains.

“We recognize and embrace parent and family members as integral to the experience” — but it’s “really as support for their student’s experience.”

�ֲ���ý parent Genny Allard agrees. “It’s important for parents to step back so that their children can develop their own strategies for problem-solving.” More instructive than supplying answers, she continues, is “encouraging them to find the resources they need on campus to make their own decisions.

“Acting as a guide on the side is really the role of a parent of college kids.”

Jason Seeger ’21 of Belmont, Mass., embraces his mother, Kim Seeger, following the Farewell Reception and Family Goodbye for the Class of 2021 last August. (Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College)

In three words, Angela Church, the mother of Maya Church ’20 of Atlanta, conveys the  internal conflict that parents feel. On the eve of Maya’s matriculation, she said that she and her husband felt “proud, thrilled, and nervous.”

The first two words were because Maya would venture far from the familiar South for the school of civil rights leader Benjamin Mays, who graduated from �ֲ���ý exactly 100 years before Maya’s anticipated graduation date. And “nervous” because she wondered “how Maya would manage the cold weather and when she would get homesick.”

So Angela and her husband responded by looking outward and inward, “by calling Maya everyday, sending special care packets, flying her home for holidays, and most importantly, praying that Maya would have an outstanding college experience.”

Even as a child gains independence and maturity, parents often still see the vulnerabilities and uncertainties that remain. For Ed Walker ’02, who was a �ֲ���ý student when his daughter, Tiauna Walker ’21 of Millbury, Mass, was born, he saw the things that “that I’ve spent her whole life trying to shelter her from,” such as the dangers of alcohol.

Ed Walker ’02 speaks during a Q&A session for parents held in April during an Admitted Student Reception in the Mays Center. At left and right are parents Missy Moreland and Genny Allard. (Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College)

To allay those worries, Walker has learned to “trust. She is a young woman now, and I’ve had to come to terms with that. And I have strong comfort in knowing who she is as a person,” he says.

As Tiauna looks ahead to her sophomore year, that trust has “allowed our relationship to get stronger,” Ed says. “She talks to me much more openly now, I think. She still checks in with me often and she solicits my advice on a lot of things regarding her academics and just her personal life.

“Most importantly, at least to me, is that she still shows the utmost respect to herself, which was a foundational lesson for her. As long as she’s doing that, there’s not much more I can really ask for.”

College as a developmental process for parents and students alike is also on the mind of Rebecca Fraser-Thill, a member of the psychology faculty and the director of faculty engagement and outreach for Purposeful Work at �ֲ���ý.

Rebecca Fraser-Thill delivers the college’s Purposeful Work message to new parents on Opening Day in 2016. (Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College)

She says that the “guide on the side” concept dovetails neatly with the goal of Purposeful Work: helping students gain self-knowledge that can enable them to align who they are with work that will satisfy them — and bring them happiness after college, every parent’s hope.

Now beginning its fifth year of implementation, Purposeful Work has a parent focus. The first year in college, and even the first weeks, “are about setting students up for feeling purpose and meaning in their work,” says Fraser-Thill.

Encourage your student to range around — and be sure to reflect back to them the things that worked and those that didn’t.

That process requires exploration. “This is the time to try out different clubs. It’s to try out different courses — don’t zero in on a major and take four classes in the same topic the first semester.”

She says, “Something that, often, is a tension point early on is when parents encourage narrowing, by and large, faster than we as a liberal arts institution would encourage it.” Instead, encourage your student to range around — and be sure to reflect back to them the things that worked and those that didn’t.

And while you’re being encouraging, help yourself to some of that too, Fraser-Thill suggests. “Being easy on yourself as a parent is really key to the whole process as well — understanding that it’s a developmental journey for you, as much as it is for your child.”

Allard recalls the time, a few weeks before she launched her son, Jack, on his college career in 2012, that she got a phone call from the mother of a �ֲ���ý senior. It was a welcoming phone call, initiated by �ֲ���ý as a way for veteran �ֲ���ý parents to reach out to new ones — but it was also a call that Allard welcomed as she contemplated her concerns about sending Jack off.

“She honestly alleviated any silly concerns I had,” Allard laughs. “He was only going to Maine, not the moon.”

She and the caller “talked honestly about the concerns mothers have for their children who head off to Maine to college,” says Genny, who teaches at a New Jersey high school.

“This mother was also from New Jersey. She informed me that buying him L.L.Bean boots would be a good investment for the Maine winters.”

Allaying Allard’s fears about the distance from New Jersey to Maine, “she assured me that that the college was equipped to assist Jack if he needed anything.”

On Opening Day in 2015, Daniel Fichmann ’19 of New York City gets out of the family vehicle as parents Jose and Barbara drop him off at Commons on Central Avenue. (Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College)

“She honestly alleviated any silly concerns I had,” Allard laughs. “He was only going to Maine, not the moon.”

Allard’s daughter, Katie, followed Jack to �ֲ���ý three years later. Genny adds, “I’ve had confidence in them to strategize solutions. We always let our kids know we were here for them if they needed a sounding board, but that they were ultimately the ones who had to make the choices.”

An active volunteer with the college’s Parents and Family Association, Missy Moreland has been on the giving end of those �ֲ���ý phone calls. Her son is Ned Moreland ’19 of Monkton, Md., and while he’s been a self-starter at �ֲ���ý, she satisfied herself that �ֲ���ý could deliver top-notch services, especially academic and career advising.

“The faculty advising is critical to a good start for students, and I’ve seen a lot of wonderful things that �ֲ���ý has done that have really eased my level of anxiety there,” she says.

“We are there to help and support Ned. And if questions come up, we always bring it back to, ‘Have you utilized the services available to you at �ֲ���ý?’”

A record number of prospective students have applied for admission to the incoming �ֲ���ý College Class of 2022.

The 2017–18 recruiting season saw first-year applications from 7,688 prospective students — by far the most ever and a 45 percent increase over last year’s 5,316 first-year applications.

“We are meeting more prospective students where they are and telling a story that is more compelling and relevant than ever,” said Dean of Admission and Financial Aid Leigh Weisenburger.

The previous high-water mark was 5,636 in 2014–15.

Dean of Admission and Financial Aid Leigh Weisenburger.

“When we tell �ֲ���ý’ story — about our unwavering commitment to the emancipating potential of the liberal arts, to creative and rigorous scholarship, and to the transformative power of our differences — using traditional admission outreach paired with new-media strategies, the results speak loudly and clearly.”

Among applicants, across-the-board increases in important demographic categories — including geography, first-generation-to-college students, and students of color — “move the overall pool, and thus our incoming class, in the right direction,” she added.

The record level of interest in �ֲ���ý comes as the college launches The �ֲ���ý Campaign, which seeks to raise $300 million in the coming years with a strong focus on endowment for academics and financial aid.

In addition, �ֲ���ý continues to expand its innovative Purposeful Work program and lay the groundwork for a new and fundamentally inclusive Digital and Computational Studies Program.

The 2017–18 recruitment season saw an increase in travel, both nationally and internationally, for the �ֲ���ý Admission team, including new joint travel with fellow colleges of the American Talent Initiative, of which �ֲ���ý is a founding member. Supported by Bloomberg Philanthropies and with a target date of 2025, ATI seeks to expand by 50,000 the number of low- and moderate-income students attending 270 top U.S. schools.

In the digital realm, �ֲ���ý’ expanded suite of web, social media, and email communications and strategies now features a new virtual-visit platform that expands prospective students’ access to one of the most important ways to get to know �ֲ���ý: the campus tour.

The immersive virtual experience is particularly helpful for students who might find it difficult to visit in person. It also helps to educate potential applicants while guiding them toward various “micro-conversions” that are important in the recruitment process, such as watching a �ֲ���ý video, clicking a link to an academic department, or scheduling a visit.

�ֲ���ý has simplified the application process in another way. Effective this year, the college has eliminated the application requirement of a supplemental essay.

“We have found that the essay is an unnecessary barrier in the path of a talented student who deserves access to an excellent education,” said Weisenburger. “Just as �ֲ���ý was the first to show that standardized testing can narrow the door of college opportunity for talented students, we have made this move to reflect our leadership in creating greater access to higher education.”

A deeper look at the 2018 applicant pool and a comparison to the average applicant pool over the prior five years shows a 56 percent increase in applications from first-generation-to-college students; 40 percent from African American students; 27 percent from Asian American students; and 68 percent from Latino students.

�ֲ���ý also expanded its U.S. geographic reach in 2018, with more applicants from the West (30 percent over the five-year average), Midwest (49 percent), South (53 percent), and West (30 percent), as well as New England (14 percent).

International applicants increased by 105 percent, driven by triple-digit increases from China, Pakistan, India, and Ghana.

The incoming class will be finalized this spring. �ֲ���ý notifies applicants of admission decisions on April 1, and the deadline for accepted students to notify �ֲ���ý of their intention to enroll is May 1.