During the first-ever �ֲ���ý Curates event in March, faculty, staff, and students, and President Garry W. Jenkins, became “curators” as they gathered to select a new addition to the Museum of Art’s permanent collection.

Carrie Cushman, director of the �ֲ���ý Museum of Art, devised the idea for the event, which she hopes will be the first of many. 

“This program enabled us to start a conversation with the community about what it means to be a collecting institution in the 21st century,” Cushman said. “We were able to educate students, faculty, and staff on the strengths of our own collection and to build communal investment in its future.” 

The �ֲ���ý Curates event was centered around the museum’s recent exhibition Shellburne Thurber: Full Circle, which ran from October 2025 to March. Curated by �ֲ���ý Museum of Art Assistant Curator Samantha Sigmon, in collaboration with Thurber, the exhibition featured works from across the New England-based Thurber’s decades-long career as a photographer, primarily capturing images of homes and the people who occupy them.

“Thurber is known for crafting photographs of interior spaces that capture people’s personalities and presence,” Sigmon said.

Prior to the launch of �ֲ���ý Curates, museum staff had selected three works  — respectively titled “Phantom Limb: My Dresser Top at Night,” “Newtonville, MA: Blue Couch with Multiple Portraits of Freud,” and “Self Portrait Sitting on the Porch in New Hampshire” —  from the exhibition for potential acquisition, made possible by the Barbara Morris Goodbody Collection Endowment Fund, to the museum’s collection of 8,000-plus objects. But, they planned to purchase just one work — and that’s where the �ֲ���ý community came in. Cushman and Sigmon invited faculty, staff, and students to the museum for an evening to tour the exhibition and vote on which work they should select. 

“Everyone was visibly excited to take part in voting and hearing more about the artist and each of the three works,” Sigmon said. “The experience truly enlivened our galleries. I’m thrilled that we could lift the curtain regarding how our collections are built and include our audience in such an integral museum responsibility.”

Attendees were eager to learn more about the museum and offer their input on the selected photographs.

“�ֲ���ý Curates was an inspiring and creative way to connect the campus community with the art museum while showcasing its exhibitions,” said Krystie Wilfong, associate college librarian for collection management and scholarly communications. “Hearing Samantha speak about the identified works offered a fascinating behind-the-scenes perspective.”

The event was an opportunity to renew interest in the museum’s permanent collection specifically, while also “demonstrating accountability” to the �ֲ���ý community, Cushman explained. 

“I appreciated Carrie’s explanation that events like �ֲ���ý Curates were meant to be part of an intervention in the colonial practices that had shaped art collecting,” said Charles Nero, Benjamin E. Mays ’20 Distinguished Prof of Rhetoric, Film, and Screen Studies.

Though each piece received a similar number of votes, attendees ultimately selected Thurber’s “Self Portrait Sitting on the Porch in New Hampshire.”

“Knowing that an artwork I voted for will become part of the permanent collection makes the experience feel especially meaningful,” Wilfong said.

Featuring the photographer herself on a porch, harshly lit by a bright sun, the photo is distinctively different from Thurber’s usual compositions of interior spaces.

“The artist sits on the porch of her family lakehouse, a place incredibly entangled with her life and work. … She is not looking directly at the camera, and we see her in an everyday moment that captures her in a way a more polished portrait might not,” Sigmon said. “To me, it is as if we are right there next to Thurber in mid-discussion. Thurber’s power to transport us into the photograph really draws people in.”

“Self Portrait Sitting on the Porch in New Hampshire” nicely complements the museum’s preexisting repertoire of artist self-portraits and contemporary photography, Sigmon said. It’s also a unique holding from Thurber, who has rarely displayed her portraits of friends, family, and herself despite capturing many throughout her career.

“It was an honor to display this work and her other portraits at the �ֲ���ý College Museum of Art,” Sigmon said. “As the curator, I love that we get to keep a photograph that sets us apart from her previous exhibitions elsewhere.”

If you remember the 1960s, you remember the self-help book: I’m OK — You’re OK.

As �ֲ���ý students navigated a fall semester within COVID-19 protocols, another saying came to the fore: “It’s OK not to be OK,” said Kenza Nadifi ’21 of Bethesda, Md.

Besides being a “bizarre” semester, said Nadifi, it was, importantly, a time when “being extra careful with people is more vital than ever.”

The protocols stripped away many favorite pursuits while creating some high hurdles. There was no sit-down dining in Commons, no competitive sports, few in-person activities for clubs and organizations, and required physical distancing and masking nearly all the time.

Plus, there was a brand-new “module” course format. Instead of four semester-long courses, students took two courses for 7.5 weeks (known as Module A) then two more courses for 7.5 weeks (Module B), with courses covering the required material by meeting for more hours each week.

We asked seven students how it went. (Students have now departed campus before Thanksgiving and will finish their semester remotely.)

What we heard is that for every challenge or setback, they often found something that worked, something that felt “normal,” and someone who gave them a little help.

Mei Kane ’23 of New York City

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

Major: Interdisciplinary Studies with a focus in digital and computational and gender and sexuality studies

Challenge: An unexpected hiatus from humanities-focused classes

Mei says: As luck would have it, my two courses during Module A were both in digital and computational studies. During a normal semester, I would have also taken some humanities classes for balance, but I couldn’t because of the module system.

It was nice in some ways: My DCS classes overlapped a lot in material, and I was able to do an intense, deep dive into critical digital theories. One of the downsides is that I couldn’t practice my humanities-oriented academic skills for a long time. During Module B, I took a gender and sexuality studies course. When I had to write my first paper, I realized that I hadn’t had to use academic citations in six months.

So far, I’ve had Professor Anelise Hanson Shrout for four courses in my three semesters at �ֲ���ý. That’s been a bonus, to be able to explore an academic discipline with such continuity and stability and have her see me grow as a student.

In every class I’ve had with her, I’ve been challenged to learn in a different way. But I’ve also been able to work with the same sort of familiarity: I know how the syllabus is going to look, I know her different attendance policies, so it’s nice to have that mix of things in class.

Deon Custard ’21 of Chicago

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

Major: Theater and English

Challenge: A canceled fellowship and travel grant, then hope

Deon says: Last summer, I was going to do research for my senior thesis in London and Cambridge thanks to a Phillips Fellowship. That was canceled.

I was approved for a small grant to take a trip to the Folger Shakespeare Library in Washington, D.C., this fall. That was canceled.

What wasn’t cancelled is my production of Shakespeare’s “Twelfth Night” during the winter semester. Mounting a show during COVID-19 protocols, including physical distancing, creates logistical and technical setbacks, but I’m surrounded by an incredibly flexible production team that is taking even the most abstract ideas and turning them into concrete pieces of art to share with the entire community.

We’re setting this show around New Year’s Eve 1969. When a play is set in a time and place different from what we might expect — 1969 instead of 1602 — the text and the context need to reveal something deeper about each other in order to be an effective piece of storytelling. Otherwise, it’s just camp.

As someone studying the early modern period and the 1960s and ’70s from the historical vantage point that is 2020, it’s clear how history continues to repeat itself over and over. Our stories of revolutionary love and social resistance will always be worth telling.

Esme Goldfinger ’21 of Portland, Maine

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

Major: Psychology and Dance

Challenge: Making connections with �ֲ���ý alumni

Esme says: I am graduating this month, so I began this semester so anxious about what my job opportunities might be. What I’ve learned is that �ֲ���ý alumni are very generous and sympathetic to how COVID has affected our college experience. They are more than willing to speak to us about their career paths or offer any assistance that they can in helping current seniors get jobs after graduation.

I am particularly interested in the intersection between physical anatomy and psychological health. In the past week, with support from the Center for Purposeful Work, I’ve spoken to �ֲ���ý alums who graduated in 1985, in the ’90s, and even just a few years ago. They’ve been able to connect me not only with their labs and psych opportunities but also send me lists of other contacts.

When I realized that �ֲ���ý alums are willing to talk to me, I realized just how easy it is to connect and network with them and get a better understanding of different opportunities that I might have with my majors that I wouldn’t have otherwise considered.

Peder Bakken ’21 of Seattle

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

Major: Mathematics and Economics

Challenge: Getting timely feedback during the module format

Peder says: A lot of students, including me, struggled to adjust to the module format. Instead of having an entire semester to complete coursework, we had just half that time. Often, a paper or assignment might be due before you got comments on the last one. This was challenging because I typically adjust my work based on a professor’s feedback.

But faculty were very nice about always having office hours and availability to meet over Zoom. They were always available to have one-on-one discussions. For instance, I just had a meeting yesterday with my math professor about one of our quizzes. We were able to talk through a problem: what it means to be an open set or a closed set.

I had a few holes in my knowledge, and that that conversation filled them in a way that I don’t think I would have gotten from just getting the problem marked wrong on a quiz. Though it’s not something I’ve done as much as I should have over the years — talk to your professors during office hours — it’s what I tell the first-years on the soccer team to do now.

Muskan Verma ’21 of Shimla, India

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

Major: Theater and Rhetoric

Challenge: A death in the family

Muskan says: This semester, one of my close family members died unexpectedly. If it had happened any other year, I probably would not have gone home. But just the fact that I didn’t even have a choice — that hit harder. But support from people around me in terms of the staff and professors got me through it. They were so understanding. I immediately knew I could rely on them.

Academically, what changed the most for me was the course “Presidential Campaign Rhetoric.” Everyone in the course takes part in a mock presidential campaign, conducted all around campus, featuring the two major parties. I played “Muskan Zaveria,” a U.S. senator who was the Democratic presidential candidate.

This time, we couldn’t have as many in-person events or in-person debates, which usually happens. But that provided an added challenge: We had to come up with different strategies, including using social media. It was hard, but having that group to work with and talk with — we still have our group chat — kept me sane.

For my theater major, I did one of my two required performances this semester in a play entirely on Zoom, directed by Olivia Dimond ’22. I was not looking forward to it; I did not think I had it in me. I had to be my own stage manager, my own camera person, my own Zoom manager. Now I can add to my resume: “proficient in Zoom theater”! Not a lot of people get to say that.

It actually went really well — it was the first time my family saw me act, since it was online. There were some really hard scenes there — like when I get a panic attack and where I’m crying — and my Mom said, “Oh my God, just do happy plays, don’t do sad plays.” My family thought I was crying for real. I guess that means I did a good job.

Quinn Kiernat ’21 of Minneapolis

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

Major: Economics and Politics

Challenge: Finding a way for Zoom to replace in-person office hours

Quinn says: I’m a huge fan of in-person office hours to go over difficult concepts with a professor helping every step of the way. Adjusting to Zoom office hours has been difficult, but my professors and thesis advisers have gone above and beyond to help me succeed.

They hold extensive Zoom office hours, and in many instances they have dropped everything to hop on Zoom and help me, like 8 a.m. on a random Wednesday or right after their class or just really quick, like at 8 or 9 at night. They were so accessible. That gave me light at the end of the tunnel.

I was really worried coming in, especially writing two theses and thinking I wouldn’t be able to meet with my professors. I felt like I’d be really isolated on my own doing them. I have definitely not found that to be the case. If anything, I have probably met more with my professors. I think that goes down to availability on Zoom.

Kenza Nadifi ’21 of Bethesda, Md.

Phyllis Graber Jensen/�ֲ���ý College

Major: Politics

Challenge: Juggling academics, responsibilities, and stress

Kenza says:�� This semester was bizarre — in so many ways. Still, I can now confidently say that my expectations were exceeded by a pretty decent margin.

Leading up to the presidential election, I started to feel almost frantic: academics, internship work, the political divide, the environmental crisis. I remember lying on my bed and suddenly deciding I needed to journal for the first time in my life. I wrote two pages, accidentally dropped my journal behind my bed, and then became too busy to fish it out and continue my self-care journey.

The unfortunate fate of my journal is a metaphor for what’s happening to a lot of people now. �ֲ���ý students are so busy and driven that with all the added stress of the pandemic and the election, taking time to check in with ourselves was left in the dust (or behind the bed).

That’s why it’s so important to be open about the challenges you are facing, if you feel comfortable doing so. If I can help someone feel less alone simply by communicating my own struggles, then it is 100 percent worth it, to reach a mutual understanding that things are tough.

It’s important to recognize that it’s OK not to be OK. It’s also important to recognize some students carry the added weight of fearing for their rights and even their lives in our country.

Being extra careful with people is more vital now than ever.

How does �ֲ���ý love Lewiston? Let graduating senior Durotimi Akinkugbe count the ways.

An art and visual culture major and an animator and photographer, Akinkugbe details the food, beauty, peacefulness, and people that make Lewiston a great place to call home.

https://vimeo.com/270677158

The Plan extends a vision that respects valued campus qualities and provides future guidance to enhance the unique living/learning environment of the College. Phase I of the original Facilities Master Plan has been largely completed.

The College will update the Facilities Master Plan through a process that began in March and will be completed in January, 2010. The update will:

• Revisit the original Plan and review key assumptions
• Consider changes to reflect emerging needs or changing circumstances
• Provide more detailed studies of the choices ahead
• Confirm or revise the future phasing of improvements
• Establish the framework for improvements for the next five to seven years

The Update will be guided by the College’s Master Planning Steering Committee,composed of members of the administration, faculty and trustees. The planning process has been organized to be informative and inclusive, providing many opportunities  for discussion.

The entire �ֲ���ý community is invited to a Campus Forum 3-5 p.m. Wednesday, May 13 in Rooms 221-222 new Commons. Topics will include:

• Master Plan Update: Goals and Process
• Discussion of Key Issues
• Your Ideas: Opportunities for the Future

There also will be “open houses,” noon-1:30 p.m. May 13 and 3-5 p.m. May 20 in Rooms 221 new Commons

These sessions will provide an opportunity to:

• Meet the planning team
• Provide input on key issues
• Discuss your ideas

Three times a year, I receive a packet from the editor of this magazine, a packet that no one else receives. In it are the stories of 50 or 60 people, all part of the �ֲ���ý community in some way: alumni, faculty, staff. But they are united by more than being part of this community. They have all recently died.

It is my job to read through this packet and write obituaries for this magazine. I read through the factual material that the College records: academic majors and athletic awards, postgraduate degrees and marriages or divorces, places of employment and number of children. I read the newspaper articles and Class Notes and other bits of information the College has collected over the years. I search the Internet for any additional material I can find.

And then I try to read between the lines, try to figure out who this person was, what �ֲ���ý meant to them, and what they meant to �ֲ���ý. It is my job to capture all of that in just a few paragraphs.

I picture them hurrying across the Quad to class, watching the Hathorn clock tick off another minute. I see them climbing the stairs in Parker or Roger Bill or Rand. I know that each of them sat beneath the elms at least once during their years at �ֲ���ý, and walked down College Street in search of off-campus sustenance. I wonder if any of them lived in the same rooms I did in Page or Mitchell or Rand.

It always surprises me to read about the different lives people with a degree from �ֲ���ý lead. A math major works on the Manhattan Project. A French major ends up doing disaster relief for the Red Cross. The big jock is moved to write poetry. We walked the same path to shake hands with the College president and receive our degree, but after that our common path led us in thousands of directions.

Some of us lead lives of quiet contentment on a farm in rural Maine only a few miles from where we were born. Others thrive on the pulse of Wall Street. A teacher who never married amasses a small fortune, which he wills to �ֲ���ý for scholarships. Another amasses a small army of children and devotes her life to volunteering at their schools.

Usually, there are people whom I wish I had known, people who shared my interests or who did something so interesting that it sparks my curiosity. I have to remind myself that I have lost the opportunity to learn from him or her, or to share our interests. I wonder if our paths ever crossed.

It is my job to set aside my ruminations and concentrate on summarizing a life in a way that is meaningful to the �ֲ���ý community and to the deceased’s family.

The hardest obituaries to write are those of people I knew, people with whom I sat under the elms or climbed the stairs, or walked down College Street. I’ve learned to write those first, before I am paralyzed by their deaths.

Almost as hard to write are those about people for whom I have little or no information. Sometimes I gather my courage and call one of the deceased’s survivors. I hastily assure him or her that I’m not asking for money, that instead I am asking for some details about the person they loved. The call then turns into one of joy and relief, an opportunity for the bereaved to talk again about someone they have lost.

Only once have I been rebuffed, by a man’s mother. I knew the deceased had been a gardener and a cook, and that he was predeceased by his dear friend, a man. There was a hint of a hidden life there, but his mother refused to acknowledge it. And that is all that I have: only the barest details. I stare at the two or three lines I have managed to extract from those details, and only reluctantly move on.

But I have found that usually it doesn’t matter how much material I have about a person. It is the details in the material that matter. A pile of newspaper clippings gives me a fact or two, but a note scribbled in the deceased’s hand — “Now that the kids are grown, I have finally learned to sail” — tells me so much about the person.

Another packet just arrived. I sigh in relief that there is no one I know. But soon I will come to understand a bit about all of the people whose lives I will summarize, and I will find a few I wish I had known.

It is my job to write these obituaries. And it is my privilege.

By Christine Terp Madsen ’73, illustration by Marty Braun

Chris Madsen ’73 is a writer who lives in Olympia, Wash., but dreams of Maine.

Now, as community relations director at the software company Blackbaud Inc., Ehrenfried is able to foster her love of public service through Blackbaud’s philanthropic efforts.

One of the company’s core beliefs is that service to others makes the world a better place, and Ehrenfried helps the company and its employees live out that value. “I’m really having a whole lot of fun,” she said. “I’m able to maintain my public service roots while working in a corporate environment.” [More…]

Gomes, known as the “Conscience of Harvard,” is a graduate of �ֲ���ý College and Harvard Divinity School. He holds honorary degrees from 36 colleges and universities. [More…]

Lee Abrahamsen

Several years ago, students in Lee Abrahamsen’s 300-level virology course undertook a project for a hepatitis-C support group at a local hospital.

Members of the group craved information about everyday impacts the disease would have — “things like, ‘Can I share my towels with my family without infecting them?’ ” Abrahamsen explains. “The students developed this nice little booklet for them. It was a really neat project.”

That’s the kind of community orientation that won Abrahamsen, associate professor of biology, a prestigious award from the Maine Campus Compact. In April 2007, Abrahamsen was one of three Maine college educators to receive the consortium’s Donald Harward Faculty Award for Service-Learning Excellence (named for �ֲ���ý President Emeritus Harward). [More…]

A visit to the local Jewish cemetery taught Timothy McCall ’08 of Lawrenceville, N.J., a timeless lesson in history.

After spending the summer researching the livelihoods of Jewish merchants who arrived in Lewiston-Auburn in the 1870s, first from Germany and then from Eastern Europe, McCall decided to “fully connect with the community” by visiting the graves of individuals whose names he recognized from weeks of primary-source research.

McCall, a double major in History and German, had been comparing the history of the Jewish community to the larger economic story of the twin cities of the Androscoggin. “The Jews were very much dependent on the mills for their livelihood and the solvency of their businesses,” McCall writes. As the area’s once thriving textile and shoe mills disappeared, so too did the Jewish community shrink. “For the Jewish merchants, the closures meant their loyal customers were without jobs and without disposable income.” Read more here.